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Completed [LP] Bleed for your Kingdom, officer! Codex plays Guns of Infinity
- Thread starter Lithium Flower
- Start date
2.
LordTryhard
Novice
- Joined
- Jul 7, 2018
- Messages
- 55
Don't forget drinking with the upjumped commoner, after saving his unit of bandits and poachers.
1.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
oh fuck I am supposed to be updating this
"I share your sentiments, gentlemen, but we must remain patient."
"Patience cannot keep our commands from deteriorating, sir," Sandoral grouses. "A day of rest for six of patrol in the heat of high summer isn't nearly enough. They must be given some relief soon, or they are like to collapse."
"Ain't rest they need," Lord Renard replies. "It's blood. Give 'em the scent of a good fight, they'll play up like hounds on a fox, wot."
"No amount of inspiration can allow man or horse to transcend hard physickal limits, limits which we are in grave danger of reaching." The bespectacled officer shakes his head. "If His Majesty intends to keep the current state of affairs for more than another month, then I shall hope his grand plan will not require any cavalry, for he shall by then have none fit for service."
-
A glance at your watch tells you that time is short; Sandoral is due to depart with his patrol in less than half an hour.
Leaving fruitless speculation behind, you spend the next few minutes outlining patrol orders, an activity perhaps just as fruitless, seeing as they remain unchanged from the week before, and the week before that, with only the details of the routes changed.
When you dismiss the meeting, Sandoral, with only ten minutes left to get his horse tacked up, is out the door almost immediately. More slowly, your other two lieutenants follow him out, leaving you alone with your work once more.
-
The weeks continue to pass, the patrols grind on, and the Antari summer somehow continues to inexplicably get even hotter.
Your squadron flags under the constant strain which the King's pitiless orders put them through. Men and horses both begin to sicken. It is not uncommon for your dragoons to return from their sorties all listless with heat exhaustion, atop mounts on the verge of collapse.
The men recover quickly enough; you are able to get even the worst-affected back up to fighting trim by replacing them with a fellow from one of your reserve troops for a few days. The horses are another matter; not all can be saved, and every week, you must set out to the quartermaster's office to replace your lost mounts.
You return from one such trip to find a fresh stack of mail upon your desk. The first three letters are hardly worth noticing.
The fourth is stamped with your family's seal.
You tear open the wax as you sit down at your desk, wondering what new way your arrogant wretch of a father will find to anger you this time.
You read the first sentence.
No, that cannot be right.
You read it again as clammy fingers climb up your spine and grip your mind with cold, impossible certainty.
"Sir?"
The sound of your Staff-sergeant's urgent voice pulls you out of your dire, galloping thoughts. "Staff?" you manage to reply. "What is it?"
"His M-Majesty has called a staff m-meeting," Hernandes reports, sounding even more nervous than usual. "I-I think we're going to attack, sir."
CHAPTER IX
Wherein the CAVALRY OFFICER is made aware of several MOMENTOUS developments.
My Lord Alaric d'al Ortiga,
I regret to inform you that your father, the Baron of Ezinbrooke, has passed away from an aberration of the heart.
As the eldest son, you remain sole inheritor of all properties associated with the position of the head of the noble and ancient House of Ortiga, as in accordance with the Act of Inheritance of 481.
These properties include the title of Baron Ezinbrooke and the style of Lord Ezinbrooke, as well as the right to sit in the Cortes as a Peer of the Unified Kingdom. These properties also include all debts and assets accrued in past by heads of the House of Ortiga.
Naturally, as the properties aforementioned are attached to a noble title, this inheritance is contingent upon the swearing of an oath of fealty to the Crown in the presence of His Tierran Majesty and the assembled Cortes in Aetoria.
Should any further questions or problems be made apparent, do not hesitate to reply to this letter.
I remain as always, your obedient servant,
Master Efraim Saundersley, Solicitor-on-Retainer to the Noble House of Ortiga
-
Slowly, carefully, you fold up the letter again and slide it back into the pocket of your jacket as Thunderer shifts underneath your saddle.
You don't know how many times you've read the travel-weathered sentences on that one piece of paper in the two and a half days it's taken the King's forces to march north to Mhillanovil, but its words have been etched into your mind. Through the long hours of riding flank guard for the long, ponderous columns of Line Infantry, you have been able to think of little else.
"Sir?" an unfamiliar voice says from behind you. "Are you all right?"
1) I'm not all right at all; my grief over my father's death is all but incapacitating.
2) My sorrow is great, but I might still do my duty.
3) I shall be fine as soon as I get my mind off my father's death.
4) I shall be all right, having accepted that all men must die.
5) I am quite well, now that I am free of that miserable scoundrel.
Personal Information
Unit Information
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline:39%
Morale:38%
Loyalty: 45%
Strength: 85%
Persons of Importance
IAGO D'AL BLAYLOCK
(Born 588 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon Regiment. Noted duellist. Baneblood.
GLEN D'AL BUTLER
(Born 594 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon Regiment. Baneblood.
LOUIS D'AL ENGLESSEY, EARL OF CASTERMAINE
(Born 558 OIE) General-of-brigade in the Tierran army. Commands an infantry brigade in the King's Army. Baneblood.
SIR CAIUS D'AL CAZAROSTA
(Born 585 OIE) Lieutenant in the King's Army. Commander of Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons. Knight-Companion of the Order of Saint Joshua. Illegitimate son of the Countess of Leoniscourt. Deathborn.
SIR JOHANNES D'AL FINDLAY, DUKE OF CUNARIS
(Born 556 OIE) Colonel-in-chief of the Royal Dragoon regiment. Knight-Grandmaster of the Order of Saint Jerome. A sitting member of the Cortes and head of the noble house of Findlay.Commander of the cavalry brigade in the King's Army. Lost the use of his legs at Blogia. Married with three children. Banecaster of the eighth calibre.
ULRIKE ECKHARTS
(Born 458 OIE) An Intendant of the Takaran Empire, assigned as an observer to the Duke of Wulfram's army prior to the Battle of Blogia.
LORD DAVIS D'AL ELSON
(584-607? OIE) Captain of the Royal Dragoon regiment, eldest son of the Baron of Hawthorne, a poor but politically influential Cortes noble. Former commanding officer of Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons. Missing and presumed dead after the Battle of Blogia. Banecaster of the third calibre.
LORD RENARD D'AL FINDLAY
(Born 594 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon regiment, eldest son and heir of the Duke of Cunaris. Baneblood.
EDMUND GARING
(Born 575 OIE) Master gunsmith and junior partner in the Aetorian firm of Garing, Gutierrez, and Truscott. Baneless.
WINTHROP D'AL HARTIGAN, VISCOUNT OF HUGH
(Born 580 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the 5th Regiment of Foot. Related by marriage to the Elsons of Hawthorne. Banecaster of the second calibre.
ARTHUR D'AL HAVENPORT, DUKE OF HAVENPORT
(Born 573 OIE) Lieutenant-general of the Tierran army. Succeeded the Duke of Wulfram as Councilor-Militant and Lieutenant-general. Baneblood.
LORD MARCUS D'AL HAVENPORT
(Born 588 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Kentauri Highland regiment. Younger brother of the Duke of Havenport. Baneblood.
LORD CASSIUS VAM HOLT
(Born 527 OIE) Takaran ambassador to the court of King Miguel of Tierra. Eldest son and heir of Richsgraav Maximilian vam Holt.
MAXIMILIAN, RICHSGRAAV VAM HOLT
(Born 399 OIE) Senior member of the Takaran Richsenaat. Secretary for the Ministry of Barbarian Affairs. Close personal friend of Aldkizern Reskin vam Paulus ai Takara. Former Colonel-in-chief of the Takaran Imperial Life Guards. Father of Lord Cassius vam Holt.
LORD ROLAND D'AL KEANE
(Born 571 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Royal Dragoon regiment. Baneblood.
PRINCE BOLESLAW OF KHARANGIA
(Born 533 OIE) Antari lord of Kharangia. Allied with Prince Mikhail of Khorobirit. Banecaster of the second calibre.
PRINCE MIKHAIL OF KHOROBIRIT
(Born 573 OIE) A powerful Antari nobleman and the League of Antar's greatest general. Defeated the Tierran army decisively at Blogia in 607 OIE. Baneblood.
CEDRIC LEWES
(Born 577 OIE) Sergeant-major in the 8th Regiment of Foot. Holds a brevet commission as a Lieutenant of the Experimental Corps of Riflemen. Baneless.
LORD KAROL OF LOCH
(Born 569 OIE) An Antari Church Hussar sworn to the service of Prince Mikhail of Khorobirit. Baneblood.
ROBERT MARION
(Born 581 OIE) Corporal in the Royal Dragoons, bat-man to Captain Alaric d'al Ortiga. Baneless.
HARLANDO D'AL MARRAS, BARON OF MARRAS
(576-607? OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Royal Dragoons, formerly second in command of the Regiment. Missing and presumed dead after the Battle of Blogia. Baneblood.
HIS TIERRAN MAJESTY, KING MIGUEL OF HOUSE RENDOWER
(Born 586 OIE) Reigning monarch of the Unified Kingdom of Tierra, as well as Duke of Aetoria. Young and impetuous, but capable. Baneblood.
ALEJANDRO D'AL NEILLE
(Born 580 OIE) Major of the Kentauri Highlanders. Baneblood.
HELENA VIZTELAS
(Born 471 OIE) Captain of the Takaran Imperial Guard. Military attache to Intendant Eckharts.
JAMES D'AL SANDORAL
(Born 592 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon regiment. Baneblood.
"STRELLYK"
(Born ???) Antari freeholder turned partisan. Commands a small group of irregulars raiding the Tierran-controlled stretches of the Imperial Highway. Baneless.
ELEANORA D'AL WELLES, COUNTESS OF WELLES
(Born 587 OIE) Tierran noblewoman and civil servant. Currently in Antar at the behest of Grenadier Square. Orphaned by the death of her father at the Battle of Blogia in OIE 607.Baneblood.
SIR ENRIQUE D'AL HUNTER, VISCOUNT OF WOLFSWOOD
(577-607 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Grenadiers. Knight-Captain of the Order of Saint Jerome. Former commanding officer of 2nd Battalion, Grenadier Guards. Killed at the Battle of Blogia. Banecaster of the ninth calibre.
HECTOR D'AL CANDLESS, DUKE OF WULFRAM
(542-607 OIE) Formerly commanding officer of the King's Army in Antar and Duke of the northern duchy of Wulfram. Killed at the Battle of Blogia. Banecaster of the sixth calibre.
State of War
EARLY SPRING, 610:
Reports indicate that Prince Khorobirit's army is once again on the move, this time towards Havenport's division and Kharangia.
AUTUMN, 609:
Lurid accounts of the sack of Kharangia shock the courts of the Infinite Sea. In Varsovia, the Takaran Richsenaat once again votes to send an observer to the Tierran Army in Antar; this time, a full ambassador.
LATE SUMMER, 609:
A comprehensive report on the Battle of Blogia is published for general circulation. The competence and ability of the late Duke of Wulfram becomes a matter of fierce public debate in Tierra. With the Crown now nearly 40 million crown in debt and no end in sight, criticism quickly spreads from the Duke of Wulfram's conduct to that of the entire army.
Assisted by a battery of experimental siege guns, Kharangia's walls are breached. The city is taken by storm.
SUMMER, 609:
The Duke of Havenport's army begins to lay siege to Kharangia. Initial progress is slow, with Havenport's artillery proving inadequate for the task of breaching Kharangia's walls.
The King's division takes the town of Solokovil on the northern edge of the Great Forest, facing Khorobirit's army.
SPRING, 609:
The army in Antar splits into two divisions. The King's division, consisting of 12 000 men, is to head north, while the Duke of Havenport's division of 11 000 men is to advance west and take the fortified Antari port city of Kharangia.
Two regiments of line infantry, three companies of engineers, and the Experimental Corps are dispatched from the Duke of Havenport's division to reinforce Fort Kharan, an extant outpost at the northern crossing over the River Kharan.
Prince Khorobirit moves his army to the town of Mhillanovil in preparation for the year's campaigning.
WINTER, 609:
The Earl of Weathern is able to assemble a temporary coalition between the various factions of the Cortes for the duration of the war. Rumours abound that both Lord Barithorne, the head of Royal Intelligence in Aetoria, and the Queen-Dowager Gwyneth d'al Havenport were heavily involved in negotiations.
Major Victor d'al Reyes of the 8th Regiment of Foot submits a proposal for the creation of a small force of foot skirmishers armed with rifled muskets. The King responds positively to the proposal and orders the creation of a temporary Experimental Corps of two hundred men, under Major Reyes's command.
SUMMER, 608:
Still mourning the death of his father, Ewen d'al Candless, the new Duke of Wulfram makes his first appearance in the Tierran Cortes. The young Duke aligns himself with the peace faction, throwing the precarious balance of power into disarray.
A board of inquiry is commissioned by Grenadier Square for the purpose of investigating the events of the defeat at Blogia.
AUTUMN, 607:
With the onset of the autumn rains, Prince Khorobirit retreats to winter quarters near the fortress of Januszkovil, on the southern edge of Antar's southern plains.
King Miguel orders the temporary reinforcement of line infantry regiments serving in Antar with men from marine complements serving on-board the ships of the Royal Tierran Navy. The move proves deeply unpopular with the Tierran Admiralty, but it serves to help replenish the Army's depleted ranks with hardened veterans.
Faced with the spectre of food riots an order of magnitude more severe than those of the year before, the Cortes, led by the Earl of Weathern, implements a grain subsidy. With Tierra starved of Antari grain by the war, Tierrans must now buy their grain from Kian merchants, who do not hesitate to raise prices to meet increased demand.
SUMMER, 607:
The Duke of Havenport is officially appointed Lieutenant-general and Councillor-Militant, to replace the late Duke of Wulfram.
Prince Khorobirit begins to send raiding parties south to probe Tierran defences. Anxious to avoid making plain the weakness of his position, the Duke of Havenport orders the Tierran cavalry, under the command of the Duke of Cunaris, to intercept these raids with utmost vigour.
LATE SPRING, 607:
Leading the bulk of Tierran forces in Antar, the Duke of Wulfram fights a larger Antari army led by Prince Mikhail of Khorobirit in a set-piece battle north of the town of Blogia. The Antari score a decisive victory, killing the Duke of Wulfram, many of his senior staff, and nearly three thousand Tierran soldiers.
The battered remnants of the Duke of Wulfram's army retreats to Noringia. King Miguel of Tierra arrives in Antar to take personal command, leaving the Earl of Weathern to lead the government in his stead.
Starved of supplies and reinforcements by the machinations of his rivals within the League Congress, Prince Khorobirit is forced to halt his advance on Noringia.
For the purposes of replacing the men lost at Blogia, the King orders the beginning of limited conscription. Vagabonds, debtors, and the unemployed are now liable to be forced into the army by recruiting agents in Tierra, to be sent to Antar.
"I share your sentiments, gentlemen, but we must remain patient."
"Patience cannot keep our commands from deteriorating, sir," Sandoral grouses. "A day of rest for six of patrol in the heat of high summer isn't nearly enough. They must be given some relief soon, or they are like to collapse."
"Ain't rest they need," Lord Renard replies. "It's blood. Give 'em the scent of a good fight, they'll play up like hounds on a fox, wot."
"No amount of inspiration can allow man or horse to transcend hard physickal limits, limits which we are in grave danger of reaching." The bespectacled officer shakes his head. "If His Majesty intends to keep the current state of affairs for more than another month, then I shall hope his grand plan will not require any cavalry, for he shall by then have none fit for service."
-
A glance at your watch tells you that time is short; Sandoral is due to depart with his patrol in less than half an hour.
Leaving fruitless speculation behind, you spend the next few minutes outlining patrol orders, an activity perhaps just as fruitless, seeing as they remain unchanged from the week before, and the week before that, with only the details of the routes changed.
When you dismiss the meeting, Sandoral, with only ten minutes left to get his horse tacked up, is out the door almost immediately. More slowly, your other two lieutenants follow him out, leaving you alone with your work once more.
-
The weeks continue to pass, the patrols grind on, and the Antari summer somehow continues to inexplicably get even hotter.
Your squadron flags under the constant strain which the King's pitiless orders put them through. Men and horses both begin to sicken. It is not uncommon for your dragoons to return from their sorties all listless with heat exhaustion, atop mounts on the verge of collapse.
The men recover quickly enough; you are able to get even the worst-affected back up to fighting trim by replacing them with a fellow from one of your reserve troops for a few days. The horses are another matter; not all can be saved, and every week, you must set out to the quartermaster's office to replace your lost mounts.
You return from one such trip to find a fresh stack of mail upon your desk. The first three letters are hardly worth noticing.
The fourth is stamped with your family's seal.
You tear open the wax as you sit down at your desk, wondering what new way your arrogant wretch of a father will find to anger you this time.
You read the first sentence.
No, that cannot be right.
You read it again as clammy fingers climb up your spine and grip your mind with cold, impossible certainty.
"Sir?"
The sound of your Staff-sergeant's urgent voice pulls you out of your dire, galloping thoughts. "Staff?" you manage to reply. "What is it?"
"His M-Majesty has called a staff m-meeting," Hernandes reports, sounding even more nervous than usual. "I-I think we're going to attack, sir."
CHAPTER IX
Wherein the CAVALRY OFFICER is made aware of several MOMENTOUS developments.
My Lord Alaric d'al Ortiga,
I regret to inform you that your father, the Baron of Ezinbrooke, has passed away from an aberration of the heart.
As the eldest son, you remain sole inheritor of all properties associated with the position of the head of the noble and ancient House of Ortiga, as in accordance with the Act of Inheritance of 481.
These properties include the title of Baron Ezinbrooke and the style of Lord Ezinbrooke, as well as the right to sit in the Cortes as a Peer of the Unified Kingdom. These properties also include all debts and assets accrued in past by heads of the House of Ortiga.
Naturally, as the properties aforementioned are attached to a noble title, this inheritance is contingent upon the swearing of an oath of fealty to the Crown in the presence of His Tierran Majesty and the assembled Cortes in Aetoria.
Should any further questions or problems be made apparent, do not hesitate to reply to this letter.
I remain as always, your obedient servant,
Master Efraim Saundersley, Solicitor-on-Retainer to the Noble House of Ortiga
-
Slowly, carefully, you fold up the letter again and slide it back into the pocket of your jacket as Thunderer shifts underneath your saddle.
You don't know how many times you've read the travel-weathered sentences on that one piece of paper in the two and a half days it's taken the King's forces to march north to Mhillanovil, but its words have been etched into your mind. Through the long hours of riding flank guard for the long, ponderous columns of Line Infantry, you have been able to think of little else.
"Sir?" an unfamiliar voice says from behind you. "Are you all right?"
1) I'm not all right at all; my grief over my father's death is all but incapacitating.
2) My sorrow is great, but I might still do my duty.
3) I shall be fine as soon as I get my mind off my father's death.
4) I shall be all right, having accepted that all men must die.
5) I am quite well, now that I am free of that miserable scoundrel.
Personal Information
As of the Summer of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era.
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 393
Income: 15
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 393
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 24%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 72% Cynicism: 28%
Ruthlessness: 33% Mercy: 67%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 24%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 72% Cynicism: 28%
Ruthlessness: 33% Mercy: 67%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Unit Information
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline:39%
Morale:38%
Loyalty: 45%
Strength: 85%
Persons of Importance
IAGO D'AL BLAYLOCK
(Born 588 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon Regiment. Noted duellist. Baneblood.
GLEN D'AL BUTLER
(Born 594 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon Regiment. Baneblood.
LOUIS D'AL ENGLESSEY, EARL OF CASTERMAINE
(Born 558 OIE) General-of-brigade in the Tierran army. Commands an infantry brigade in the King's Army. Baneblood.
SIR CAIUS D'AL CAZAROSTA
(Born 585 OIE) Lieutenant in the King's Army. Commander of Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons. Knight-Companion of the Order of Saint Joshua. Illegitimate son of the Countess of Leoniscourt. Deathborn.
SIR JOHANNES D'AL FINDLAY, DUKE OF CUNARIS
(Born 556 OIE) Colonel-in-chief of the Royal Dragoon regiment. Knight-Grandmaster of the Order of Saint Jerome. A sitting member of the Cortes and head of the noble house of Findlay.Commander of the cavalry brigade in the King's Army. Lost the use of his legs at Blogia. Married with three children. Banecaster of the eighth calibre.
ULRIKE ECKHARTS
(Born 458 OIE) An Intendant of the Takaran Empire, assigned as an observer to the Duke of Wulfram's army prior to the Battle of Blogia.
LORD DAVIS D'AL ELSON
(584-607? OIE) Captain of the Royal Dragoon regiment, eldest son of the Baron of Hawthorne, a poor but politically influential Cortes noble. Former commanding officer of Third Squadron, Royal Dragoons. Missing and presumed dead after the Battle of Blogia. Banecaster of the third calibre.
LORD RENARD D'AL FINDLAY
(Born 594 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon regiment, eldest son and heir of the Duke of Cunaris. Baneblood.
EDMUND GARING
(Born 575 OIE) Master gunsmith and junior partner in the Aetorian firm of Garing, Gutierrez, and Truscott. Baneless.
WINTHROP D'AL HARTIGAN, VISCOUNT OF HUGH
(Born 580 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the 5th Regiment of Foot. Related by marriage to the Elsons of Hawthorne. Banecaster of the second calibre.
ARTHUR D'AL HAVENPORT, DUKE OF HAVENPORT
(Born 573 OIE) Lieutenant-general of the Tierran army. Succeeded the Duke of Wulfram as Councilor-Militant and Lieutenant-general. Baneblood.
LORD MARCUS D'AL HAVENPORT
(Born 588 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Kentauri Highland regiment. Younger brother of the Duke of Havenport. Baneblood.
LORD CASSIUS VAM HOLT
(Born 527 OIE) Takaran ambassador to the court of King Miguel of Tierra. Eldest son and heir of Richsgraav Maximilian vam Holt.
MAXIMILIAN, RICHSGRAAV VAM HOLT
(Born 399 OIE) Senior member of the Takaran Richsenaat. Secretary for the Ministry of Barbarian Affairs. Close personal friend of Aldkizern Reskin vam Paulus ai Takara. Former Colonel-in-chief of the Takaran Imperial Life Guards. Father of Lord Cassius vam Holt.
LORD ROLAND D'AL KEANE
(Born 571 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Royal Dragoon regiment. Baneblood.
PRINCE BOLESLAW OF KHARANGIA
(Born 533 OIE) Antari lord of Kharangia. Allied with Prince Mikhail of Khorobirit. Banecaster of the second calibre.
PRINCE MIKHAIL OF KHOROBIRIT
(Born 573 OIE) A powerful Antari nobleman and the League of Antar's greatest general. Defeated the Tierran army decisively at Blogia in 607 OIE. Baneblood.
CEDRIC LEWES
(Born 577 OIE) Sergeant-major in the 8th Regiment of Foot. Holds a brevet commission as a Lieutenant of the Experimental Corps of Riflemen. Baneless.
LORD KAROL OF LOCH
(Born 569 OIE) An Antari Church Hussar sworn to the service of Prince Mikhail of Khorobirit. Baneblood.
ROBERT MARION
(Born 581 OIE) Corporal in the Royal Dragoons, bat-man to Captain Alaric d'al Ortiga. Baneless.
HARLANDO D'AL MARRAS, BARON OF MARRAS
(576-607? OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Royal Dragoons, formerly second in command of the Regiment. Missing and presumed dead after the Battle of Blogia. Baneblood.
HIS TIERRAN MAJESTY, KING MIGUEL OF HOUSE RENDOWER
(Born 586 OIE) Reigning monarch of the Unified Kingdom of Tierra, as well as Duke of Aetoria. Young and impetuous, but capable. Baneblood.
ALEJANDRO D'AL NEILLE
(Born 580 OIE) Major of the Kentauri Highlanders. Baneblood.
HELENA VIZTELAS
(Born 471 OIE) Captain of the Takaran Imperial Guard. Military attache to Intendant Eckharts.
JAMES D'AL SANDORAL
(Born 592 OIE) Lieutenant of the Royal Dragoon regiment. Baneblood.
"STRELLYK"
(Born ???) Antari freeholder turned partisan. Commands a small group of irregulars raiding the Tierran-controlled stretches of the Imperial Highway. Baneless.
ELEANORA D'AL WELLES, COUNTESS OF WELLES
(Born 587 OIE) Tierran noblewoman and civil servant. Currently in Antar at the behest of Grenadier Square. Orphaned by the death of her father at the Battle of Blogia in OIE 607.Baneblood.
SIR ENRIQUE D'AL HUNTER, VISCOUNT OF WOLFSWOOD
(577-607 OIE) Lieutenant-colonel of the Grenadiers. Knight-Captain of the Order of Saint Jerome. Former commanding officer of 2nd Battalion, Grenadier Guards. Killed at the Battle of Blogia. Banecaster of the ninth calibre.
HECTOR D'AL CANDLESS, DUKE OF WULFRAM
(542-607 OIE) Formerly commanding officer of the King's Army in Antar and Duke of the northern duchy of Wulfram. Killed at the Battle of Blogia. Banecaster of the sixth calibre.
State of War
EARLY SPRING, 610:
Reports indicate that Prince Khorobirit's army is once again on the move, this time towards Havenport's division and Kharangia.
AUTUMN, 609:
Lurid accounts of the sack of Kharangia shock the courts of the Infinite Sea. In Varsovia, the Takaran Richsenaat once again votes to send an observer to the Tierran Army in Antar; this time, a full ambassador.
LATE SUMMER, 609:
A comprehensive report on the Battle of Blogia is published for general circulation. The competence and ability of the late Duke of Wulfram becomes a matter of fierce public debate in Tierra. With the Crown now nearly 40 million crown in debt and no end in sight, criticism quickly spreads from the Duke of Wulfram's conduct to that of the entire army.
Assisted by a battery of experimental siege guns, Kharangia's walls are breached. The city is taken by storm.
SUMMER, 609:
The Duke of Havenport's army begins to lay siege to Kharangia. Initial progress is slow, with Havenport's artillery proving inadequate for the task of breaching Kharangia's walls.
The King's division takes the town of Solokovil on the northern edge of the Great Forest, facing Khorobirit's army.
SPRING, 609:
The army in Antar splits into two divisions. The King's division, consisting of 12 000 men, is to head north, while the Duke of Havenport's division of 11 000 men is to advance west and take the fortified Antari port city of Kharangia.
Two regiments of line infantry, three companies of engineers, and the Experimental Corps are dispatched from the Duke of Havenport's division to reinforce Fort Kharan, an extant outpost at the northern crossing over the River Kharan.
Prince Khorobirit moves his army to the town of Mhillanovil in preparation for the year's campaigning.
WINTER, 609:
The Earl of Weathern is able to assemble a temporary coalition between the various factions of the Cortes for the duration of the war. Rumours abound that both Lord Barithorne, the head of Royal Intelligence in Aetoria, and the Queen-Dowager Gwyneth d'al Havenport were heavily involved in negotiations.
Major Victor d'al Reyes of the 8th Regiment of Foot submits a proposal for the creation of a small force of foot skirmishers armed with rifled muskets. The King responds positively to the proposal and orders the creation of a temporary Experimental Corps of two hundred men, under Major Reyes's command.
SUMMER, 608:
Still mourning the death of his father, Ewen d'al Candless, the new Duke of Wulfram makes his first appearance in the Tierran Cortes. The young Duke aligns himself with the peace faction, throwing the precarious balance of power into disarray.
A board of inquiry is commissioned by Grenadier Square for the purpose of investigating the events of the defeat at Blogia.
AUTUMN, 607:
With the onset of the autumn rains, Prince Khorobirit retreats to winter quarters near the fortress of Januszkovil, on the southern edge of Antar's southern plains.
King Miguel orders the temporary reinforcement of line infantry regiments serving in Antar with men from marine complements serving on-board the ships of the Royal Tierran Navy. The move proves deeply unpopular with the Tierran Admiralty, but it serves to help replenish the Army's depleted ranks with hardened veterans.
Faced with the spectre of food riots an order of magnitude more severe than those of the year before, the Cortes, led by the Earl of Weathern, implements a grain subsidy. With Tierra starved of Antari grain by the war, Tierrans must now buy their grain from Kian merchants, who do not hesitate to raise prices to meet increased demand.
SUMMER, 607:
The Duke of Havenport is officially appointed Lieutenant-general and Councillor-Militant, to replace the late Duke of Wulfram.
Prince Khorobirit begins to send raiding parties south to probe Tierran defences. Anxious to avoid making plain the weakness of his position, the Duke of Havenport orders the Tierran cavalry, under the command of the Duke of Cunaris, to intercept these raids with utmost vigour.
LATE SPRING, 607:
Leading the bulk of Tierran forces in Antar, the Duke of Wulfram fights a larger Antari army led by Prince Mikhail of Khorobirit in a set-piece battle north of the town of Blogia. The Antari score a decisive victory, killing the Duke of Wulfram, many of his senior staff, and nearly three thousand Tierran soldiers.
The battered remnants of the Duke of Wulfram's army retreats to Noringia. King Miguel of Tierra arrives in Antar to take personal command, leaving the Earl of Weathern to lead the government in his stead.
Starved of supplies and reinforcements by the machinations of his rivals within the League Congress, Prince Khorobirit is forced to halt his advance on Noringia.
For the purposes of replacing the men lost at Blogia, the King orders the beginning of limited conscription. Vagabonds, debtors, and the unemployed are now liable to be forced into the army by recruiting agents in Tierra, to be sent to Antar.
Last edited:
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Ok, no spoilers from now on. Sorry bros but this is a little bit retarded to deal with every time. Here come 'yuge text dumps instead.
4.
4. A shock to the system, but nothing more. In time, we will even feel elation at the passing of the cold, somewhat miserable wretch of a man who could not stomach us in life. Perhaps we shall be able to stomach his memory in death. Pitiable is the father who cannot feel love for his son.
LordTryhard
Novice
- Joined
- Jul 7, 2018
- Messages
- 55
Last edited:
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 28,351
Bugger.
4
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
You have seen enough of the world to know that nothing is eternal, be it nations, sentiments, or the lives of men.
There is no living thing in creation that does not die, and your father had been no exception. To have sunk yourself in pointless grief and self-pity over it would have been as useless as to rail against the sunset.
Your father is dead; you remember him, but you will not shame him by clinging pitifully to the last strands of his memory.
"Yes, I am quite all right," you reply, with only the barest hint of self-deception.
You turn in your saddle to see the source of the intrusion: a young man in the white and blue of the Lancers, lieutenant's pips fresh on his collar.
"His Majesty's compliments, sir," he reports as he offers you crisp a salute, one that you quickly return. His fingers reach into his jacket to hand you a piece of folded paper. "Your battle orders, sir."
With one hand, you take your fresh orders as you keep the reins in the other. Your thumb flicks open the wax seal with a practised motion. "Thank you, Lieutenant," you murmur as you begin to read. "Carry on."
You barely notice the lancer as he spurs his horse away. Images of the King's plan take shape in your mind as you read through the short, terse words outlining your duty. Thoughts of the battle to come push the lingering sentiments of your father from your mind.
Today, you will have rather more pressing concerns.
-
"The challenge we face today is a simple one, gentlemen," you announce to your officers as you lead your squadron off the road and into your position on the right flank of the army's formation."That is to say, an easy one."
The nature of that challenge is displayed in open daylight before your eyes; eight hundred paces before you, beyond a stretch of open ground, lies the remains of a vast camp. Khorobirit and his mighty army stayed there for nearly two years. Now, out of the vast arrays of tents and pavilions, only a small fraction remain: a skeleton of a camp to serve the skeleton of an army that Prince Khorobirit left behind to guard his route of supply.
"It is estimated that the enemy numbers three to four thousand," you continue, gesturing at the dark figures huddled in the shadow of the bare earthworks which surround the emptiness of the mostly abandoned camp. "They've little cavalry and no artillery; I doubt they will give us much trouble. In any case, the Line Infantry and the Lancers will be the ones to see them off; we have a rather different job."
Your hand shifts, no longer pointing at the enemy or their camp but beyond, where the River Kharan flows swift and blue before the outskirts of the town of Mhillanovil. Your finger homes in on a series of low, rectangular shapes, moored to a makeshift dock on the near bank: barges, not the proper river barges so common on Tierran rivers but flat-bottom ferries moored to a line, each one loaded down with cargo heavy enough to make the ungainly craft sit low in the water.
"Those barges are our objective," you explain. "While the main body of our forces tie up the majority of the Antari, we are to pierce the enemy's defences at their extreme flank. The King wants whatever's on those barges, intact if possible, destroyed if necessary."
"We shall have to move swiftly then," Blaylock notes. "If this cargo is as valuable as it seems to be, the enemy will seek to deny it to us the moment we show any sign of getting our hands on it."
"I am rather more concerned with holding the ferry barges," Sandoral replies. "We shall be behind the main body of the enemy, and while our force as a whole outnumbers them, even a quarter could easily overwhelm us."
"The Lancers will be riding to support us as soon as they break through the enemy on our left," you answer. "We shall not be isolated for long."
Their orders explained and with all pressing matters addressed, you can do nothing but send your subordinates to their respective commands and make your last-minute preparations for battle.
1) I shall be wanting to fight this battle in armour.
2) No armour, not this time.
Personal Information
As of the Summer of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era.
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 393
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 24%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 65%; Cynicism: 35%
Ruthlessness: 33%; Mercy: 67%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Unit Information
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 39%
Morale: 38%
Loyalty: 45%
Strength: 85%
There is no living thing in creation that does not die, and your father had been no exception. To have sunk yourself in pointless grief and self-pity over it would have been as useless as to rail against the sunset.
Your father is dead; you remember him, but you will not shame him by clinging pitifully to the last strands of his memory.
"Yes, I am quite all right," you reply, with only the barest hint of self-deception.
You turn in your saddle to see the source of the intrusion: a young man in the white and blue of the Lancers, lieutenant's pips fresh on his collar.
"His Majesty's compliments, sir," he reports as he offers you crisp a salute, one that you quickly return. His fingers reach into his jacket to hand you a piece of folded paper. "Your battle orders, sir."
With one hand, you take your fresh orders as you keep the reins in the other. Your thumb flicks open the wax seal with a practised motion. "Thank you, Lieutenant," you murmur as you begin to read. "Carry on."
You barely notice the lancer as he spurs his horse away. Images of the King's plan take shape in your mind as you read through the short, terse words outlining your duty. Thoughts of the battle to come push the lingering sentiments of your father from your mind.
Today, you will have rather more pressing concerns.
-
"The challenge we face today is a simple one, gentlemen," you announce to your officers as you lead your squadron off the road and into your position on the right flank of the army's formation."That is to say, an easy one."
The nature of that challenge is displayed in open daylight before your eyes; eight hundred paces before you, beyond a stretch of open ground, lies the remains of a vast camp. Khorobirit and his mighty army stayed there for nearly two years. Now, out of the vast arrays of tents and pavilions, only a small fraction remain: a skeleton of a camp to serve the skeleton of an army that Prince Khorobirit left behind to guard his route of supply.
"It is estimated that the enemy numbers three to four thousand," you continue, gesturing at the dark figures huddled in the shadow of the bare earthworks which surround the emptiness of the mostly abandoned camp. "They've little cavalry and no artillery; I doubt they will give us much trouble. In any case, the Line Infantry and the Lancers will be the ones to see them off; we have a rather different job."
Your hand shifts, no longer pointing at the enemy or their camp but beyond, where the River Kharan flows swift and blue before the outskirts of the town of Mhillanovil. Your finger homes in on a series of low, rectangular shapes, moored to a makeshift dock on the near bank: barges, not the proper river barges so common on Tierran rivers but flat-bottom ferries moored to a line, each one loaded down with cargo heavy enough to make the ungainly craft sit low in the water.
"Those barges are our objective," you explain. "While the main body of our forces tie up the majority of the Antari, we are to pierce the enemy's defences at their extreme flank. The King wants whatever's on those barges, intact if possible, destroyed if necessary."
"We shall have to move swiftly then," Blaylock notes. "If this cargo is as valuable as it seems to be, the enemy will seek to deny it to us the moment we show any sign of getting our hands on it."
"I am rather more concerned with holding the ferry barges," Sandoral replies. "We shall be behind the main body of the enemy, and while our force as a whole outnumbers them, even a quarter could easily overwhelm us."
"The Lancers will be riding to support us as soon as they break through the enemy on our left," you answer. "We shall not be isolated for long."
Their orders explained and with all pressing matters addressed, you can do nothing but send your subordinates to their respective commands and make your last-minute preparations for battle.
1) I shall be wanting to fight this battle in armour.
2) No armour, not this time.
Personal Information
As of the Summer of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era.
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 393
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 24%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 65%; Cynicism: 35%
Ruthlessness: 33%; Mercy: 67%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Unit Information
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 39%
Morale: 38%
Loyalty: 45%
Strength: 85%
1. Wearing platemail is just asking for death by drowning. Although I suppose with our Soldiering skill we could avoid a situation like that.
1 Let's just hope that we are good enough to avoid falling into the water.
Tigranes
Arcane
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2009
- Messages
- 10,350
But Fred just wants to take a bath
(2, I have a feeling that if anything goes wrong in the camp side, we are going to have to flee creatively and quickly)
LordTryhard
Novice
- Joined
- Jul 7, 2018
- Messages
- 55
1. True Ironborn do not fear drowning!
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Not ten minutes later, the battle opens with the rolling thunder of cannon.
To your left, the three dozen artillery pieces of the King's division roar one by one, hurling smoke and fire and solid iron at the distant shapes of the enemy. Even from eight hundred paces away, you can see the great gouts of earth spray upwards as cannonballs skip off of the sloped frontage of the Antari trenches. Round shot is an ineffective weapon against earthworks, but it is a weapon to which the Antari have no answer; their guns are with Khorobirit in the south.
For a quarter of an hour, the bombardment continues, a futile gesture in material terms—despite the rare cannonball which finds itself driving through the body of an unlucky Antari peasant—it is at the Antari morale that each gun is truly aimed, an expression of superiority hammered home with every ball shot from a Tierran gun without even the faintest hint of challenge.
Then, the infantry go forward.
They seem endless, a tide of orange jackets, white gaiters, and burnished steel, despite the fact that the reasoning part of you knows that there were twice as many of them at Blogia. In their steadily advancing ranks, they seem invincible, though you remember that each battalion is made up of men no more or less fragile than any other. Still, as you feel the ground shake under their tread and the air fill with the cacophonous rattle of their drums, you find it so very easy to forget.
Then, cutting through the rattle of the infantry's drums and the echoes of the guns, there comes the silvery peals of a bugle, the instrument through which the cavalry—and only the cavalry—is commanded.
Your ears strain to hear the first triplet of notes, and then the next. Your mind translates music into words with a veteran ease. The command takes shape in your head. Your mouth goes dry, your hands tightening around the hilt of your enruned knightly longsword.
"Cavalry on the left flank: advance at the charge. Cavalry on the right flank: advance at the charge."
It is the order you have been waiting for.
"Squadron!" you shout, drawing your blade from its scabbard and letting its runes set it ablaze over your head.
"At the walk! Advance!"
-
Even at the walk, it is not long before you find yourself passing the vast lines of infantry. Beyond the orange-jacketed mass, you can see the leading squadrons of the White Rose Lancers do the same, their sky-blue guidons held high as they close with a meagre mob of Antari horse, already sallying from behind the earthworks. With every passing second, the two forces pick up speed, accelerating towards a terminal clash.
A shout of alarm snaps your eyes away from the developing skirmish to your side. It seems you have more pressing matters; ahead of you, a small band of horsemen peel away from the main body of the Antari, bound not for the developing melee on the other flank but towards your own dragoons.
They number no more than three dozen, but even less than forty spirited horsemen could make no small amount of trouble, and enthusiasm is clearly something that these riders do not lack, their sabres already out and flashing in the summer sun. Their small, nimble horses carry them towards your dragoons faster and faster, making clear their desire to charge home.
There is no going around them, that is certain; they are already extending into a thin line, wide enough to make any detour impossible. No, you will have to fight through them.
The question is…how?
-
You could certainly ride right through them. If you were simply to use the weight of your numbers to bull through, you'd be in contact with the enemy for only a moment before brushing them aside. You'd risk only a few losses, but that would also leave the enemy horsemen free to make mischief among the friendly infantry now passing behind you.
Taking the time to come to grips with the enemy and rout them comprehensively presents its own problems. Whether by sabre, by carbine, or by clever manoeuvre, defeating the enemy horse would take time, a luxury which your orders do not provide you in great abundance.
The enemy cavalry are three hundred paces away and closing. Your squadron pounds towards them at the jog trot. How will you meet them?
1) We shall ride right through them.
2) We can stop them with a good volley or two.
3) We shall meet them with the sabre and smash them quickly!
Personal Information
As of the Summer of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era.
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 393
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 24%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 65%; Cynicism: 35%
Ruthlessness: 33%; Mercy: 67%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Unit Information
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 39%
Morale: 38%
Loyalty: 45%
Strength: 85%
To your left, the three dozen artillery pieces of the King's division roar one by one, hurling smoke and fire and solid iron at the distant shapes of the enemy. Even from eight hundred paces away, you can see the great gouts of earth spray upwards as cannonballs skip off of the sloped frontage of the Antari trenches. Round shot is an ineffective weapon against earthworks, but it is a weapon to which the Antari have no answer; their guns are with Khorobirit in the south.
For a quarter of an hour, the bombardment continues, a futile gesture in material terms—despite the rare cannonball which finds itself driving through the body of an unlucky Antari peasant—it is at the Antari morale that each gun is truly aimed, an expression of superiority hammered home with every ball shot from a Tierran gun without even the faintest hint of challenge.
Then, the infantry go forward.
They seem endless, a tide of orange jackets, white gaiters, and burnished steel, despite the fact that the reasoning part of you knows that there were twice as many of them at Blogia. In their steadily advancing ranks, they seem invincible, though you remember that each battalion is made up of men no more or less fragile than any other. Still, as you feel the ground shake under their tread and the air fill with the cacophonous rattle of their drums, you find it so very easy to forget.
Then, cutting through the rattle of the infantry's drums and the echoes of the guns, there comes the silvery peals of a bugle, the instrument through which the cavalry—and only the cavalry—is commanded.
Your ears strain to hear the first triplet of notes, and then the next. Your mind translates music into words with a veteran ease. The command takes shape in your head. Your mouth goes dry, your hands tightening around the hilt of your enruned knightly longsword.
"Cavalry on the left flank: advance at the charge. Cavalry on the right flank: advance at the charge."
It is the order you have been waiting for.
"Squadron!" you shout, drawing your blade from its scabbard and letting its runes set it ablaze over your head.
"At the walk! Advance!"
-
Even at the walk, it is not long before you find yourself passing the vast lines of infantry. Beyond the orange-jacketed mass, you can see the leading squadrons of the White Rose Lancers do the same, their sky-blue guidons held high as they close with a meagre mob of Antari horse, already sallying from behind the earthworks. With every passing second, the two forces pick up speed, accelerating towards a terminal clash.
A shout of alarm snaps your eyes away from the developing skirmish to your side. It seems you have more pressing matters; ahead of you, a small band of horsemen peel away from the main body of the Antari, bound not for the developing melee on the other flank but towards your own dragoons.
They number no more than three dozen, but even less than forty spirited horsemen could make no small amount of trouble, and enthusiasm is clearly something that these riders do not lack, their sabres already out and flashing in the summer sun. Their small, nimble horses carry them towards your dragoons faster and faster, making clear their desire to charge home.
There is no going around them, that is certain; they are already extending into a thin line, wide enough to make any detour impossible. No, you will have to fight through them.
The question is…how?
-
You could certainly ride right through them. If you were simply to use the weight of your numbers to bull through, you'd be in contact with the enemy for only a moment before brushing them aside. You'd risk only a few losses, but that would also leave the enemy horsemen free to make mischief among the friendly infantry now passing behind you.
Taking the time to come to grips with the enemy and rout them comprehensively presents its own problems. Whether by sabre, by carbine, or by clever manoeuvre, defeating the enemy horse would take time, a luxury which your orders do not provide you in great abundance.
The enemy cavalry are three hundred paces away and closing. Your squadron pounds towards them at the jog trot. How will you meet them?
1) We shall ride right through them.
2) We can stop them with a good volley or two.
3) We shall meet them with the sabre and smash them quickly!
Personal Information
As of the Summer of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era.
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 393
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 24%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 65%; Cynicism: 35%
Ruthlessness: 33%; Mercy: 67%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Unit Information
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 39%
Morale: 38%
Loyalty: 45%
Strength: 85%
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