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Completed [LP] Enlist in the Royal Dragoons! Codex plays Sabres of Infinity
- Thread starter Lithium Flower
- Start date
2. Looking at our stats our intelligence is already bad (25, less than what we started with) while our charm is merely average at 30%. With any luck sabotaging our intelligence won’t lose us any more checks than we’d be making already.
2.
Since I don't see why I would change my mind from last time.
Since I don't see why I would change my mind from last time.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
1 = 1
2 = 2
2 = 2
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Sadly, you do not seem to be very good with academic subjects. You rarely grasp even the basics of a lesson and your instructors are soon frustrated beyond words with you.
Despite your lack of talent, you manage to muddle through eventually, squeaking out a bare pass.
-
When your academic lessons end at six o'clock, you are set at liberty for the remainder of the day. Most of the other officers in training gravitate to the officer's mess, to eat their supper amongst their peers and superiors. This is the prime time for gossip, debate and other such social pursuits.
In a group of young gentlemen of good family and fine education, conversation naturally commits itself to wider subjects than the common barracksroom chatter about training, harvests and girls. Political debates are common and it is not an especially rare sight to see two officers pitched against each other, waxing rhetorical over the pros and cons of some act of the Cortes printed in that day's broadsheet. Skill and physical prowess may rule the day, but wit and likeability carry the evening. One could almost tell the popularity of an officer solely by the amount of comrades clustered around him.
What about you? How do you usually take supper?
I may not be the most personable of men, but I rarely eat alone.
(This is the only option available to us, of course.)
Although you are not excessively popular, you still manage to make some friends. You are certainly welcome at almost any table you choose to eat at. Rarely are you ever refused a chance to speak.
-
By the second week of your training, you come to the realization that you have never seen Cazarosta at supper. While some officers certainly do avoid the evening meal to avail themselves of the pleasures of the town, you doubt that your ascetic roommate would be so morally lax. One evening, you resolve to make a particular effort to look for him in the officer's mess, but see that he is quite conspicuously absent.
1) I will go look for him.
2) It's none of my business.
Despite your lack of talent, you manage to muddle through eventually, squeaking out a bare pass.
-
When your academic lessons end at six o'clock, you are set at liberty for the remainder of the day. Most of the other officers in training gravitate to the officer's mess, to eat their supper amongst their peers and superiors. This is the prime time for gossip, debate and other such social pursuits.
In a group of young gentlemen of good family and fine education, conversation naturally commits itself to wider subjects than the common barracksroom chatter about training, harvests and girls. Political debates are common and it is not an especially rare sight to see two officers pitched against each other, waxing rhetorical over the pros and cons of some act of the Cortes printed in that day's broadsheet. Skill and physical prowess may rule the day, but wit and likeability carry the evening. One could almost tell the popularity of an officer solely by the amount of comrades clustered around him.
What about you? How do you usually take supper?
I may not be the most personable of men, but I rarely eat alone.
(This is the only option available to us, of course.)
Although you are not excessively popular, you still manage to make some friends. You are certainly welcome at almost any table you choose to eat at. Rarely are you ever refused a chance to speak.
-
By the second week of your training, you come to the realization that you have never seen Cazarosta at supper. While some officers certainly do avoid the evening meal to avail themselves of the pleasures of the town, you doubt that your ascetic roommate would be so morally lax. One evening, you resolve to make a particular effort to look for him in the officer's mess, but see that he is quite conspicuously absent.
1) I will go look for him.
2) It's none of my business.
As of the Spring of the 602nd year of the Old Imperial Era.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 14
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 60
Income: 5
Soldiering: 60%
Charisma: 30%
Intellect: 0%
(We actually managed to achieve the lowest possible Intellect score. Impressive.)
Reputation: 32%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 60% Cynicism: 40%
Ruthlessness: 45% Mercy: 55%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 14
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 60
Income: 5
Soldiering: 60%
Charisma: 30%
Intellect: 0%
(We actually managed to achieve the lowest possible Intellect score. Impressive.)
Reputation: 32%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 60% Cynicism: 40%
Ruthlessness: 45% Mercy: 55%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Last edited:
Leave it to the Codex to produce the dumbest of His Tierran Majesty's officers. Hopefully we can improve our intellect as we age.
1
1
1.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
As soon as you finish your supper, you decide to look for your erstwhile roommate. After first ensuring that he is neither in his room nor in any of the other common areas of the fortress, you make the rounds of the massive old stone building.
After half an hour, you finally find him in Fernandescourt's small, dimly-lit chapel. He is kneeling before the small, centuries-old statue of Saint Talbot and silently tending to the shrine flame of the patron saint of House Cazarosta, his lips fluttering open and shut in quick, repetitive prayer.
Unable to break the holy silence of the chapel, or meet the gaze of the hundreds of statues of the other saints arrayed around the room, you quietly leave the small chamber of worship.
-
Throughout your instruction, you often find yourself training alongside or against your room mates. Cazarosta has proven himself an excellent horseman and a first class carbinier while Elson seems to always be surrounded by other nobles' sons. Their mutual rivalry remains strong and the two will never speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. Regardless, after supper, you find yourself at liberty to further a prospective friendship with either. What do you do?
1) Practice sparring and marksmanship with Cazarosta.
2) Socialize with Elson and his friends.
3) Try to reconcile Cazarosta and Elson.
4) I don't need friends, I need to improve my skills.
After half an hour, you finally find him in Fernandescourt's small, dimly-lit chapel. He is kneeling before the small, centuries-old statue of Saint Talbot and silently tending to the shrine flame of the patron saint of House Cazarosta, his lips fluttering open and shut in quick, repetitive prayer.
Unable to break the holy silence of the chapel, or meet the gaze of the hundreds of statues of the other saints arrayed around the room, you quietly leave the small chamber of worship.
-
Throughout your instruction, you often find yourself training alongside or against your room mates. Cazarosta has proven himself an excellent horseman and a first class carbinier while Elson seems to always be surrounded by other nobles' sons. Their mutual rivalry remains strong and the two will never speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. Regardless, after supper, you find yourself at liberty to further a prospective friendship with either. What do you do?
1) Practice sparring and marksmanship with Cazarosta.
2) Socialize with Elson and his friends.
3) Try to reconcile Cazarosta and Elson.
4) I don't need friends, I need to improve my skills.
As of the Spring of the 602nd year of the Old Imperial Era.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 14
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 60
Income: 5
Soldiering: 60%
Charisma: 30%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 32%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 60% Cynicism: 40%
Ruthlessness: 45% Mercy: 55%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 14
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 60
Income: 5
Soldiering: 60%
Charisma: 30%
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 32%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 60% Cynicism: 40%
Ruthlessness: 45% Mercy: 55%
You have no decorations as of yet.
3, befitting the young, drooling moron idealist that we are.
JRIz
Augur
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2015
- Messages
- 502
I wonder how much these choices will further affect our stats. Regarding those, 1 could lead to even more Soldiering which we don't need at the moment. 2 would be more useful. Maybe 4 improves everything a little.
On the other hand, I think Cazarosta would be a better friend while Elson might improve our reputation a bit. The outcome of 3 is unclear.
2 although I don't want Cazarosta as a rival.
On the other hand, I think Cazarosta would be a better friend while Elson might improve our reputation a bit. The outcome of 3 is unclear.
2 although I don't want Cazarosta as a rival.
Let's rise soldiering even further ! 1
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
While you are not the most glib of men, Elson's circle still accepts you as a fellow nobleman. Elson himself is more than happy to play the part of the worldly mentor and freely dispenses advice on how to move within the social circles of the junior officers of the regiment. You begin to get the impression that he is warming up to you, despite his insistent and occasionally annoying condescension.
-
One morning halfway through the sixth week of training, you arrive on the parade grounds to see your instructors notably absent. Your fellow officers in training are milling about, aimlessly. After a few minutes, Captain Montez himself comes out, his pinched face even more wrinkled in anxiety than usual.
He announces that His Majesty the King has finally given orders for the Royal Dragoons to join the rest of the army. A squadron of warships is to arrive within the week to ferry you across the Calligian Sea.
Before then, there is to be a final exercise: a mock charge across an open pasture, with live steel and ammunition. Every newly commissioned officer is to participate. Leading such an exercise would be a great honour for any cornet. More importantly, it would mean that they would have a chance at a brevet promotion, should they acquit themselves well enough to be considered suitable for a position of higher responsibility. The crowd is rapt as Montez announces the name of the man to lead the exercise: Cornet Caius d'al Cazarosta.
-
You depart the parade grounds, following the buzzing crowd of subalterns to the mess for breakfast.
-
Training officially ends the next day. After that, the Old Fortress seems even more abuzz with activity. The enlisted men are conscripted into stacking crates of ammunition, supplies and rations for man and horse alike in preparation for the convoy's arrival. You and the other cornets are briefed on the nature of the exercise you are to take part in.
The mock charge will involve all of the new officers and nearly the full strength of the regiment. In attendance will be the the regimental commander: His Grace, the Duke of Cunaris. Montez does not hesitate to stress how important the exercise would be. While the Dragoons are not meant for frontal charges, this exercise would be the Dragoons' last and only attempt at manoeuvreing as a whole regiment before departing for Antar, when the next such manoeuvre could be into the teeth of a row of enemy muskets or pikes.
-
The day of the exercise dawns bright and cloudless. The regiment forms up squadron by squadron on the parade grounds, before marching to the starting point in a vast field outside the fortress walls. By the time the sun is high in the sky, all six squadrons of the regiment have assembled.
Your first view of the entire assembled regiment is breathtaking: over a thousand men atop their horses, wearing the green-grey and blood red of their long uniform jackets. Cazarosta is visible — barely — at the head of your squadron. In one hand, he holds the regimental colours; in the other, his sabre shines in the morning sun like a sliver of light.
-
Cazarosta slowly moves ahead of the assembled regiment, his horse at a slow walk. You take your position behind him. You take note that Elson is near the rear, which, considering his terrible horsemanship, was probably a dose of sound judgment on his part.
The field is silent as all six squadrons of the Royal Dragoon Regiment sit atop their saddles, straining to hold back their anticipation to a man.
From each assembled troop, a sergeant walks his horse forward. Each senior enlisted man wheels his force around, staring men and officers in the face.
-
"Who're we?" the NCOs bellow in unison.
"The first to fight!" comes the automatic reply, made a solid mass of sound by a thousand voices. It is a response drilled into every single Dragoon since their first day.
"Who're we?"
"The last to leave!" the shouted response comes even louder.
"Who're we?"
"The first a-horse!"
"Who're we?"
"The last a-bed!"
"Who're we?" You can feel the air course with anticipation as men and officers tremble with enthusiasm.
"Royal Dragoons!"
"Who're we?"
"Royal Dragoons!"
"Who're we?!" the Sergeants scream, their voices hoarse with exertion.
"Dragoons! Dragoons! The King's Dragoons!" The reply is deafening and you hear your own voice being added to the chant despite yourself.
"Dragoons! Draw… swords!"
The regiment draws their sabres as a single body. You snap your head to face front just in time to see Cazarosta give the signal to charge with the traditional battle cry of the Royal Army.
"Tierra and Victory! Advance!"
-
The regiment flows into motion as trumpet blasts and kettle drums pound at your ears. Soon, the cacophony is joined by the thunderous beats of five thousand hooves on the grassy turf as the regiment eases into a trot, a canter and finally a full run. The ground seems to shake under you as your horse pounds down the field in the company of a thousand others. Wild whoops and shouts fill the air as the entire regiment picks up speed. In the corner of your eye, you can see the fluttering red dragon on white of the Duke of Cunaris, observing from specially built stands on the side.
You spur your horse onwards as you lean forward in the saddle, the reins clutched tightly in your hands. With the exhilarating feel of the wind rushing through your hair, it is hard to remember to turn to check your flanks as you rapidly approach the line of straw dummies serving as your enemy. As you do, you notice Elson almost beside you, his horse straining to push its rider yet further forward. Did he speed up to try to reach the forefront of the charge?
-
From the corner of your eye, you see a flash of motion: Elson tumbles from his seat, wrenched free from the saddle by the wild momentum of his mount. A fraction of a second is all it takes. What seems like half the squadron turns their heads at his frantic screaming, punctuated by sickening thumps as his careening horse flings his body behind it like a rag doll.
You look ahead for orders to stop the exercise, but out of either callousness or complete obliviousness, Cazarosta continues on. No order to stop is given.
Elson's panicked screams terminate with a sharp, sickening crack. As you turn your head, you see him being dragged along, entirely limp, his other foot still in the stirrup.
You make a split-second decision to:
1) Continue on: I cannot impede the exercise. Elson will have to fend for himself.
2) Ride ahead: I must try to get Cazarosta to stop the exercise.
3) Stop the exercise myself! It's the only way!
4) Stay behind: I must to try to help Elson.
-
One morning halfway through the sixth week of training, you arrive on the parade grounds to see your instructors notably absent. Your fellow officers in training are milling about, aimlessly. After a few minutes, Captain Montez himself comes out, his pinched face even more wrinkled in anxiety than usual.
He announces that His Majesty the King has finally given orders for the Royal Dragoons to join the rest of the army. A squadron of warships is to arrive within the week to ferry you across the Calligian Sea.
Before then, there is to be a final exercise: a mock charge across an open pasture, with live steel and ammunition. Every newly commissioned officer is to participate. Leading such an exercise would be a great honour for any cornet. More importantly, it would mean that they would have a chance at a brevet promotion, should they acquit themselves well enough to be considered suitable for a position of higher responsibility. The crowd is rapt as Montez announces the name of the man to lead the exercise: Cornet Caius d'al Cazarosta.
-
You depart the parade grounds, following the buzzing crowd of subalterns to the mess for breakfast.
-
Training officially ends the next day. After that, the Old Fortress seems even more abuzz with activity. The enlisted men are conscripted into stacking crates of ammunition, supplies and rations for man and horse alike in preparation for the convoy's arrival. You and the other cornets are briefed on the nature of the exercise you are to take part in.
The mock charge will involve all of the new officers and nearly the full strength of the regiment. In attendance will be the the regimental commander: His Grace, the Duke of Cunaris. Montez does not hesitate to stress how important the exercise would be. While the Dragoons are not meant for frontal charges, this exercise would be the Dragoons' last and only attempt at manoeuvreing as a whole regiment before departing for Antar, when the next such manoeuvre could be into the teeth of a row of enemy muskets or pikes.
-
The day of the exercise dawns bright and cloudless. The regiment forms up squadron by squadron on the parade grounds, before marching to the starting point in a vast field outside the fortress walls. By the time the sun is high in the sky, all six squadrons of the regiment have assembled.
Your first view of the entire assembled regiment is breathtaking: over a thousand men atop their horses, wearing the green-grey and blood red of their long uniform jackets. Cazarosta is visible — barely — at the head of your squadron. In one hand, he holds the regimental colours; in the other, his sabre shines in the morning sun like a sliver of light.
-
Cazarosta slowly moves ahead of the assembled regiment, his horse at a slow walk. You take your position behind him. You take note that Elson is near the rear, which, considering his terrible horsemanship, was probably a dose of sound judgment on his part.
The field is silent as all six squadrons of the Royal Dragoon Regiment sit atop their saddles, straining to hold back their anticipation to a man.
From each assembled troop, a sergeant walks his horse forward. Each senior enlisted man wheels his force around, staring men and officers in the face.
-
"Who're we?" the NCOs bellow in unison.
"The first to fight!" comes the automatic reply, made a solid mass of sound by a thousand voices. It is a response drilled into every single Dragoon since their first day.
"Who're we?"
"The last to leave!" the shouted response comes even louder.
"Who're we?"
"The first a-horse!"
"Who're we?"
"The last a-bed!"
"Who're we?" You can feel the air course with anticipation as men and officers tremble with enthusiasm.
"Royal Dragoons!"
"Who're we?"
"Royal Dragoons!"
"Who're we?!" the Sergeants scream, their voices hoarse with exertion.
"Dragoons! Dragoons! The King's Dragoons!" The reply is deafening and you hear your own voice being added to the chant despite yourself.
"Dragoons! Draw… swords!"
The regiment draws their sabres as a single body. You snap your head to face front just in time to see Cazarosta give the signal to charge with the traditional battle cry of the Royal Army.
"Tierra and Victory! Advance!"
-
The regiment flows into motion as trumpet blasts and kettle drums pound at your ears. Soon, the cacophony is joined by the thunderous beats of five thousand hooves on the grassy turf as the regiment eases into a trot, a canter and finally a full run. The ground seems to shake under you as your horse pounds down the field in the company of a thousand others. Wild whoops and shouts fill the air as the entire regiment picks up speed. In the corner of your eye, you can see the fluttering red dragon on white of the Duke of Cunaris, observing from specially built stands on the side.
You spur your horse onwards as you lean forward in the saddle, the reins clutched tightly in your hands. With the exhilarating feel of the wind rushing through your hair, it is hard to remember to turn to check your flanks as you rapidly approach the line of straw dummies serving as your enemy. As you do, you notice Elson almost beside you, his horse straining to push its rider yet further forward. Did he speed up to try to reach the forefront of the charge?
-
From the corner of your eye, you see a flash of motion: Elson tumbles from his seat, wrenched free from the saddle by the wild momentum of his mount. A fraction of a second is all it takes. What seems like half the squadron turns their heads at his frantic screaming, punctuated by sickening thumps as his careening horse flings his body behind it like a rag doll.
You look ahead for orders to stop the exercise, but out of either callousness or complete obliviousness, Cazarosta continues on. No order to stop is given.
Elson's panicked screams terminate with a sharp, sickening crack. As you turn your head, you see him being dragged along, entirely limp, his other foot still in the stirrup.
You make a split-second decision to:
1) Continue on: I cannot impede the exercise. Elson will have to fend for himself.
2) Ride ahead: I must try to get Cazarosta to stop the exercise.
3) Stop the exercise myself! It's the only way!
4) Stay behind: I must to try to help Elson.
As of the Spring of the 602nd year of the Old Imperial Era.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 14
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 60
Income: 5
Soldiering: 60%
Charisma: 40%
(Spending time with Elson increased our charisma by 10%! Good news, especially for those of you who wanted to cultivate this stat alongside Soldiering.)
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 32%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 60% Cynicism: 40%
Ruthlessness: 45% Mercy: 55%
You have no decorations as of yet.
Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 14
Rank: Cornet
Wealth: 60
Income: 5
Soldiering: 60%
Charisma: 40%
(Spending time with Elson increased our charisma by 10%! Good news, especially for those of you who wanted to cultivate this stat alongside Soldiering.)
Intellect: 0%
Reputation: 32%
Health: 75%
Idealism: 60% Cynicism: 40%
Ruthlessness: 45% Mercy: 55%
You have no decorations as of yet.
4
I don’t want Elson to get hamburgerized under the hooves of the charge, but I think we’d probably get some strict discipline to call off the mock charge for everyone over what is effectively a single casualty. That wouldn’t bode well for performance in battle if people could just sabotage the whole maneuver just because a pal got hurt. Hopefully we won’t be disciplined too badly for independent action to save him.
Edit: actually, is he dead? His screams ended in a crack and now he’s just limp. Maybe unconcious?
I don’t want Elson to get hamburgerized under the hooves of the charge, but I think we’d probably get some strict discipline to call off the mock charge for everyone over what is effectively a single casualty. That wouldn’t bode well for performance in battle if people could just sabotage the whole maneuver just because a pal got hurt. Hopefully we won’t be disciplined too badly for independent action to save him.
Edit: actually, is he dead? His screams ended in a crack and now he’s just limp. Maybe unconcious?
JRIz
Augur
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2015
- Messages
- 502
So the Royal Dragoons seem to have a kpop group as their historical roots or something.
Otherwise, stats are successfully min-maxed -- good. But Elson apparently couldn't help us raise our reputation (yet).
As to the situation at hand, I say 4 because this is supposed to be an exercise and in the real thing, which is only a short time ahead of us, 1 and 4 would be our only option and we would surely help our comrade. I don't think he is dead yet because otherwise Elson would be rather meaningless.
Otherwise, stats are successfully min-maxed -- good. But Elson apparently couldn't help us raise our reputation (yet).
As to the situation at hand, I say 4 because this is supposed to be an exercise and in the real thing, which is only a short time ahead of us, 1 and 4 would be our only option and we would surely help our comrade. I don't think he is dead yet because otherwise Elson would be rather meaningless.
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