THERE WERE MASTERS AND SERVANTS,

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Prepare for the historic Battle of Valmy.
WHEN? Mid September 1792, France.
ANYTHING ELSE? Violence, as always. Please warn in subject lines for anything beyond physical violence, and move to a personal journal if things go beyond PG-13.

IT'LL BE FINE;

between sainte-menehould and valmy,
1792: revolutionary france.

read the valmy setting infopage

DEPARTING JERUSALEM

The clean up of the battle is slog. A full day of piling together corpses. Noting down famous men and women. In the heat, the bodies bloat and become fetid, and the smell builds until it cannot be ignored. Insects swarm, and vultures blot out the sun, swooping down and taking back what's been left for nature. Stragglers and the poor pick through the field for scattered weapons and valuables to collect. The bodies of important men and women are taken for burial; the rest are left for scavengers, animal or human.

It's in this gruesome scene that the order comes:

PACK UP, GET READY TO MOVE OUT. THE TARGETS HAVE BEEN NEAUTRALIZED. WE MAKE OUR DEPARTURE LOCAL TIME, DAWN.

DEPLOYMENT: VALMY, FRANCE. IT'S GOING TO BE A WET ONE. WE ARE EXPECTING MORE TRANSFERS ON ARRIVAL.

The present COST soldiers that have been in strict cover begin finishing their work, if they've decided to help the army move out, tend to the wounded, or clean up after the dead. There is no sign of the Commander yet, but maybe you recognise some of your fellow operatives. They seem be taking advantage of a particular event that maybe you stopped to see, maybe you didn't.

Saladin beheads Reynald de Chattilion and his words fill the camp as much as the news of their next move.

A king does not kill a king, Saladin says to King Guy, and the orders run like wildfire through the camp: next they take Jerusalem, and it's in this march, that when the rest of the army moves on that COST slips away. A order to fall back in steady increments; when the time comes, Saladin's army is out of sight, marching toward Jerusalem.

In the midst of all of this, COST operatives begin to disappear, here one moment and gone in another. Such a strange sight, more than one native soldier muses, must be the fault of heat exhaustion.

The Time-Step

The transfer begins, and it starts like a vibrating heat on the collar bone, not painful, not to start with. Just a hum of sensation. But the vibration spreads. Veteran COST soldiers often refer to this phenomena as 'the buzz'. The sensation builds, feeling not unlike standing near a great engine, or the wind rattling the branches of a great tree. There is long a moment of motion sickness, and one cannot always be sure if it is you that is shaking from the inside out, or the world that is shaking you from the outside in. It may just be better to close your eyes against the growing nausea as the world blurs out of focus. A star shines in the distance. You may hear the faint rustling of leaves. Some swear they hear voices in this moment, indistinct words echoing off nothingness. Some swear they feel a touch of the divine. One thing is for sure: One moment you are here, and the next, you are not.

The soldier next to you might not have been so clever, when it stops and you find yourself standing in the green fields of France, September 1792. She or he throws up as the vibration fades. Everyone seems to stumble sideways for a second. The world turns, and then rights itself. The heat is gone, replaced with cold and wet.



ARRIVAL FOR TRANSFERS FROM JERUSALEM

It's raining.

You're inside of a tent, (another one), and it already seems to be bustling with movements, they call to you in French, which you understand if you did not already: hurry now, they say, you need out of that cuircass before they're spotted. The rest of the army will be following, and the Prussian army to meet it. There isn't much time to loiter around getting sick in this weather. You have a kit to pick up, and perhaps training to do.

ARRIVAL FOR NEW RECRUITS

The first thing you'll notice is the sound of rain. You awake in a tent that seems to be sheltering against the ruins of a farm house, and everything feels damp. It's a wet September morning in 1792, and when the woman across from you in the tent speaks, you understand it to be French. If you didn't understand French already, you sure do now.

If you ask, she'll explain: you are fighting for France, as the Prussian army intends to invade and sack Paris. You may be a citizen, you may be a soldier; you have risen up in defense of France all the same.

She asks you what role you wish to play in the coming battle, and provides you with clothes and supplies to suit. She won't let you leave until you can pass for a native of France, setting up camp in the rain pouring down between Sainte-Menehould and Valmy.

MISSION OBJECTIVE

The forces of COST have gotten word that Regency operatives have gone to Revolutionary France, intending to turn the tides in one of the most historically important battles in European history. The Battle of Valmy, which decided the entirety of the French Revolution and all that follows it, must be won by the French army, as it was in history.

Unlike the incident in Jerusalem-- you may remember it, you may not-- COST has managed to get here before the day of the battle. Make no mistake; it's coming soon. But this time, you and your fellow travelers have time to prepare.

The French Army has managed to get ahead as well; they've maneuvered around the Prussians, cutting off their supply lines. You and your fellow soldiers are now chasing the invaders as they head for Paris. This is time to prepare and ready your forces. The fight is coming soon.



STAY DRY, STAY SECURE

A few things are strongly remembered about the Battle of Valmy; one of them is the rain. It's really pouring out here, and you're in the thick of it. Rain is a dangerous thing for an army such as this; during this era of warfare, gunpowder was an essential commodity, and wet gunpowder is useless gunpowder. Secure the supplies, rescue supply carriages from muddy sinkholes, steer the horses, check supplies, and try to keep the essential materials for victory dry.

TRAIN UP

General Kellerman and Dumouriez are training peasants in basic military tactics. While veterans make up the core of this army, there are a substantial amount of peasants, and most here have never seen battle in their lives, or ever held a gun. Many are equipped with only rudimentary farming equipment. Help train or be trained so you're ready when the Prussian army arrives.

MEDICAL

Plenty of people need medical attention, not from battle wounds so much as malnutrition and overwork. These are mostly peasant laborers, and they're not entirely fit for battle. Help people get as rested and ready as possible.

ESPIONAGE

We have reason to believe some of the 'peasants' are actually Regency spies. Root them out by seeing keeping an ear to the ground for suspicious activity. They don't know all the words to La Marseillaise? Off with their head! Be careful not to attack time travellers on your side, though!

MORALE

Keep spirits high! Sing, dance, and generally try to keep people from succumbing to fear. Despite the rain and the mud, despite the seemingly impossible odds, the average soldier is full of excitement for battle, ready to fight to the death to defend their freedom.

SUPPLY AND SEEK

Since the French army is behind the invading force, they've cut off the enemy's supply lines. This means that, should the Prussians become encamped here for any amount of time, they won't be able to send for food and munitions from their home country. It's your job to make sure it stays that way. You may see someone riding on a swift horse in a Prussian uniform, attempting to sneak through French lines and try to get word back to mother Prussia. Chase them down, and make sure they can't get their reports back home so a second force isn't sent-- or worse.

BE A COMMUNITY ORGANIZER

This battle is one that's widely known for its popular support-- for the most part, France unites against this invading force with alarming cohesion. Someone gifted with a clever mind, or perhaps a clever tongue, may be able to use that. The French army passes farms and peasant villages along the way-- make rousing speeches, and try to recruit more to the cause, secure donations of food and weaponry, anything you can get.

read the valmy setting infopage

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC PLURK DISCORD

Comments

[horsepowered]

A.
It was an easy thing, guiding horses around to get them to the makeshift stables being used by the French. A gentle hand on the reins, a firm and soft voice, and when Chiron moved with the things, a set of reins in each hand, he seemed to have a similar gait. His eyes were always to either side, looking out for what might spook his charges.

"Hm," he said, when he turned the corner only to find that all of the available horse housing was in use. "There must be more around here somewhere. I doubt that these are the only horses that are a part of this army."


B.
Chiron rolled on the ground, taking a hit from one of the younger, inexperienced soldiers that he was working with. The boy couldn't have been much older than eighteen. Nineteen maybe. He had a sturdy build though, likely from a lifetime of lifting and moving the heaviest of loads. Chiron hadn't inquired too much about his background, only what his experience was.

Which brought Chiron back to the present. Before even moving onto firearms (something he'd pass on to someone with more experience), there was something more basic to be taken into account: general movement. Being able to elbow and hard shoulder and take a physical blow if it came to it. The hard shoulder was what sent him flying, and why he stood up with a smile.

"I think that's plenty of the basics," Chiron said. His eyes searched for the best person to hand the young man off to. "Now as for aiming and firing..."

C.
It felt...inappropriate, in a way, to participate in the recruitment of food, supplies, and bodies. Being thrown into someone else's war was one thing, but to try and drag others into a conflict with only a surface view of it was another. But that very lack of understanding was why Chiron had wandered off with those trying to gain more for the upcoming battle.

In his lifetime, Chiron had trained plenty of warriors, but he had never participated in the wars themselves. He had lived in the wilderness for the most part, removed from the propaganda of those who launched wars, and so the things he heard were nothing short of fascinating.

He hung towards the back, those with clever tongues having achieved their goal of some extra food and a few more bags of grain.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself.

a;

[handtowels]

"There's more set up over that way," Takatora says to Chiron, helpfully gesturing as he walks over.

Having just finished helping to unload supplies from one of the carts, he's heard as much said to others. Dressed as a civilian, phrygian cap and all, he wears his saiken at his hip, which while a little more ornate and eastern in design, doesn't look hugely dissimilar to the military's sabers.

"You have some skill in handling horses."

He's seen enough, and is familiar enough with equestrian pursuits, to note that.

[horsepowered]

"Excellent, thank you," Chiron replies, following the gesture. There's precious few horses that way, meaning the two he's with ought to get good spots and be treated to what he hopes is more than their fair share of feed.

His own choice of clothing is also decidedly civilian, although any kind of hat has been left aside. The saiken does catch his attention, but only for a moment. The design is unique.

At the compliment, Chiron offers a small smile. "It's actually been some time. I'm glad the skills haven't eroded."

[handtowels]

"Really?" The line of Takatora's mouth quirks, and he follows with, "Or are you saying that to appear more impressive?"

He means it in good humour, rather than as an accusation. Takatora walks over to join Chiron and his charges.

"If you don't mind, I'll tag along. See if there's any labour that needs doing in that direction. We're all done over here."

[horsepowered]

"The first," is the response, quite serious even if the statement is meant in good humor. There's a smile playing at Chiron's lips though, showing that he's taken it all in good faith.

"By all means then. I will admit, I don't have the best range of vision with their heads in the way."

[handtowels]

"I have an advantage there."

And not merely by not leading them. Takatora stands at 6'2". In Warring States Japan that meant he was shot a fair number of times, being a larger target than most, but it also has its upsides.

"Don't worry. I'll guide you well."

He gives a quick little bow to be polite as he introduces himself.

"I'm Takatora."

He's noticed that the people here seem to always introduce themselves with their given name only from the get go, so while it's different to what he's used to, he's adapting for the sake of fitting in.

[horsepowered]

"Chiron. The guidance is deeply appreciated, Takatora."

He's seen men Takatora's height before, and Chiron doesn't bat an eye at it. Some students were still taller than him in life, and that was back when Chiron looked like the centuar he was, rather than taking on a fully human form.

"Have you worked with horses much yourself?"

[handtowels]

"Since I was a teenager. I'm competent, but nothing special."

After he joined Lord Nagamasa's service and gained rank in the Azai, riding became commonplace, so he has a couple of decades of experience.

"Chiron, huh?"

Too low to be overheard, he adds, "You're not French, then. What brings you here?"

The pronunciation seems different to the many French names he's heard since arriving here. Being Japanese, he's never heard of Chiron's myth.

[horsepowered]

Low voice meets very low voice. It isn't conspiratorial, but it is a very near thing.

"I suspect the same thing that might bring you here," he replies. But that low voice disappears immediately after, as another man walks by.

"Competent sounds like a low evaluation of your ability, you know."

c

[rappels]

Chiron isn't alone as he watches the proceedings, and surely to both of their surprise, with someone with a similar point of view.

Aloy is no stranger to war at this point. Though she'd hadn't had any sort of title, she had been an impromptu general for the Carja, since she was the only one that truly knew the war that was coming to them. They were fighting against machines, but not only machines. The cultists that worshipped them were formidable in their own right, so this isn't the first time she's been at the forefront of a great battle. But still, that had been different. She had gone to the king, told him and his advisors of what was coming, and then while they organized things on their end, she had left to see her quest through. All of the detail went over her head, because she didn't have the time to simply watch.

But now, the situation isn't quite so urgent, and she watches as troops are rallied and food is distributed. Her brow is knit together slightly as she watches, because it's strange to her. It's a moment where she's reminded starkly of just how isolated of a life she had lead until the Proving, and she's still not sure how to feel about that. These aren't her people, she knows, but still, seeing how they interact with each other feels almost alien.

The man near her speaks, and she doesn't think he's really talking to her, but—

"Yeah, that's a word for it," she replies dryly, but there's a hint of that curiosity in her tone. She shifts, crossing her arms, then shrugs. "Is this how things always are?"

[horsepowered]

"I cannot say," Chiron admits. He keeps his voice low, to ward off those who might eavesdrop. His arms are folded across his chest, eyes still watching the scene before them both. Sacks of food are passed through the crowd, into the arms of grateful French fighters, and their response is another speech.

"This is an entirely new experience for me with nothing else to reference or compare to."

It was easier, living in the mountains of Greece and accepting those students who came to him. Their deeds and decisions were theirs, and Chiron remained alone.

[rappels]

Aloy laughs, though it's short and tinged with sarcasm even as a laugh. It's her quick agreement, but it's also a way that she subconciously masks that she feels a bit relieved by his answer. With who she had talked to in Jerusalem off the battlefield, she felt more out of place and separate from her home. It wasn't as if she had a strong tie to the place, since it had never really treated her well, but... Feeling like an outsider is never a feeling she's enjoyed.

"Well, I can't say I know it much more than you. The last time I saw anything like this was the first time.," she admits, though it comes with a little bit of a shrug as she continues, "Nora don't really do armies. Just warriors that work together."

Though when she puts it that way, she realizes that's almost the same thing. She gestures subtlely towards the soldiers at work.

"—Most of them aren't really even warriors."

[horsepowered]

Chiron's best guess is that the Nora are this woman's people, or clan, or some other kind of group. Context will likely reveal more of that later, so he does not chase after that information.

"I believe the fact that they aren't trained soldiers is a part of the point," Chiron says softly, observing the movements up towards the front. All of the extra food has been packed up. Time to move out.

"If you've gone so far that those with no experience will march into war, then that is an indictment of sorts."

[rappels]

Aloy immediately scoffs, and that makes her thoughts on the idea clear enough. Though as she elaborates, it's seemingly only in the broadest sense, since her wording is likely to sound a bit curious.

"Even this long ago, they're that relaxed, huh?"

What truly strikes her as strange is that there would be so many people who didn't know how to fight at all. Not everyone she's met in her life could fight well, but they could all survive when faced by a machine. You had to. But she wonders if some of these soldiers could even manage to outmaneuver a Grazer.

Though whatever she means, it may be a comment to herself more than to Chiron. She doesn't elaborate, and instead looks to him with a bit more curiosity in her expression.

"It sounds like you understand it better than I do. Do you think they know enough?"

[horsepowered]

"Long ago?" Chiron repeats, his tone mild but the rise in his eyebrows suggesting that he could use some elaboration and context on that particular statement.

He is, of course, aware of the great city states of Greece that have their armies and their citizens, and how their governments relate one to the other. But that understanding is still removed, and always would be.

"I wouldn't say that at all," he demurred. "As for knowing enough, who's to say? Some may be able to surprise us all in a pinch, some may not. It's impossible to predict, if you're asking for a fully candid opinion."

[rappels]

"It's a long time ago, at least to me," Aloy answers simply. It's still a strange thing to have to explain, but she's getting used to it, at least somewhat. Even so, she shrugs lazily as she continues, "It's more than a thousand years ago."

Though that doesn't really explain it fully, since even with that explanation, it's an odd comment. What she really means by the comment that it's a few hundred years before things went badly, but it's still the sort of world where she can easily see how things got the way they were. It's not so much that she's trying to keep the information from him so much that it's a very long explanation, so she'd rather not get into it. Explaining that the world essentially ends a few hundred years from now tends to really turn the tide of a conversation.

"Yeah, candid is what I'd prefer. If these people are going to fight and maybe die for all of this, I think candid is better," she says bluntly, but her expression does shift of one to concern, though it's mild, "Well, let's just hope for surprises, I think."

[horsepowered]

"I see."

Chiron nods quietly when the words a thousand years ago are said. This France, this world, it's many years after his own time and place, and making this woman's distance even further. It is an impressive thing, how far COST's reach is, and truly, Chiron has to wonder why so many points in time and space have been used in this struggle.

"It's not going to be without a high toll," he adds, somber and without any illusions of what is about to come. "And in part that will be from many people's inexperience. There's no getting around that fact."

b

[mylawn]

He might not have ever touched a musket before, but if there's one thing he is good at, it's pointing a gun and pulling the trigger. Loading it is a pain, sure, but he practices it a few times and likes to think he has the hang of it, which means that if he must, he can impart the knowledge on others. That's what has him making rounds through the camp, though given his own gruffness, he's a little loath to engage unless the soldier in question seems to be particularly hopeless.

Or a fellow COST agent, looking for some support. That's what it seems like, anyway.

"You need a hand?"

76 recognizes the way Chiron trails off, searching for someone who might be able to step in and provide additional assistance. He'd rather leave well enough alone, but the reason they're here is to make sure this army has a fighting chance. If those are his orders, well, he'll carry them out.

[horsepowered]

Chiron turns when he hears 76's voice, and offers a curt, polite nod by way of greeting. His gaze is level, calm, quite confident in the young man who he has been working with for several hours.

"If you wouldn't mind giving this young man a walk through of the basics, I'd be obliged," he replies. Chiron's voice is level, confident that the work he's done has laid a solid enough foundation to build upon.

"I'd do so myself, but that would be nothing but the blind leading the blind."

[mylawn]

"Then it looks like I'm teaching the both of you."

Said like he knows what he's doing--76 hasn't exactly figured out how to adjust for the unwieldiness of the musket, the amount of kickback, the way it sits in his hands, but he is nothing if not confident in his ability to wield a gun. Any kind of gun. He'll adjust as he goes.

"They show you how to load it already?"

[horsepowered]

Chiron looks to the young man first. He himself understands the how of loading up a gun, but the speed required has been his greatest struggle. After a moment of quiet, the young man shakes his head no. Chiron's own response is a soft one.

"Essentially, but there are still elements that are an issue."

[mylawn]

“Like aiming and firing, right?”

That’s what he’d rather teach, given the complete chore it is to load these things. There are adjustments to be made still, but he’s been a soldier longer than he’s been anything else. He’ll figure it out, passing the musket to Chiron, if only so he can get a feel for how it sits in his hands. 76 will start nudging him into a firing stance.

“You ever held a gun before? Either of you?”

[horsepowered]

"My own issue is speed with regards to reloading," Chiron said, taking the musket in hand and hefting it into the appropriate firing position. "Aim is not an issue at all."

From anyone else, it might sound like bragging. From Chiron, he might as well had just said that the sky was blue.

As for the young man, he shook his head no. All of this was a new experience, which meant that there were only time for the basics.

[mylawn]

“Hate to tell you it’s not gonna get much better.”

That’s just how the guns are designed—it’s the best they have given the technology of the era, so all they can really do is practice. Try and get the muscle memory in their systems

“Just remember the other team has the same disadvantage. Let me see you hold it.”

76 addresses that to the boy, who raises his gun. He takes a step forward, wasting no time adjusting his stance into something a little more stable.

“When you fire, you’re gonna get all the kickback. Need to make sure you’re ready for it.”

[horsepowered]

Chiron just lets the young man try and get comfortable with the firearm in the new and improved stance. The contrast in teaching styles is something he always finds interesting to observe, and this young man seems to respond well. He's all curt nods and ready to go.

At least he has the good sense to wait before being given permission to fire. For that, he looks to 76, as does Chiron.