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

[thingpuncher]

He wasn't wearing a mask, no, but his face was pretty comprehensively (and purposefully) hidden by the black fabrics of his turban, veil, and random bits of cloth he'd kept loose and hanging over the rest of him. Now, face uncovered, eyes bright, haircut ridiculous, he looks like a sans-culotte with mange.

So, fair point.

"I can do a lot of things, kid," he says, after the urchin's scurried away. "Growing my hair at will isn't one of them."

[rappels]

"Oh," she says first as she recognizes him from his voice, though her tone in itself says a lot. It's not completely unfriendly, but it's not really a warm recognition either. She definitely remembers him, but mostly how difficult he had been, albeit helpful. But the latter part feels like something she doesn't want to admit.

"It's you. I didn't recognize you without the—" Aloy motions to her own face, since she doesn't know what to call what he'd been wearing. It was practical, she knew, but she hadn't quite picked up the name from the Shadow Carja when she went to visit their city in the desert. She kind of had other things on her mind at the time. Her posture shifts as she crosses her arms, and she nods to someone nearby.

"Not a fan of the ridiculous hats?"

Clearly, she isn't either. Fashion isn't exactly something she cares about, so most everything about what the people here wear doesn't really make sense to her.

[thingpuncher]

"Oh," Midnighter says back, mocking her tone. It's neither cruel nor particularly kind; his tone is just on the edge of mocking, mostly playful. In short, he's kind of being a jackass.

Quelle surprise.

"You think they're ridiculous? I kinda like 'em." He says, mostly to challenge her in some way. So far, from what little he's seen of the girl, he thinks he likes her better when she's being challenged. More interesting. Tougher. More engaging. "Just haven't seen one that screamed 'me' yet."

He looks down at what she's wearing now, with the shaggy clothes of the proletariat, the lightly tied bodice-- smart move, it seems that's the fashion among the poor, or maybe they just don't give a fuck anymore about an hourglass figure-- the ankle-length dress. "What about you? Not gonna take all the beads out? Dead giveaway."

Midnighter winks. He could not give less of a shit.

[rappels]

Aloy is quick to make a noise of annoyance at his first response, since she's not the kind of person to hide her reactions, as is probably clear from their conversations already. At least he's not actively antagonistic, but he is annoying. Now, granted, the best thing to usually do is ignore people like that, but Aloy hasn't quite learned that lesson yet.

"Yeah, ridiculous," she reasserts firmly, but it comes with a shake of her head, "Considering why we're here? A hat like that is just going to get in the way."

She's practical almost to a fault, since it'll take time for her to shed her habits from home. She'll stubbornly resist doing so, but she can tell that this place is safer than her home, even with why they're here. It's obvious in little details that are mostly in their clothing. So hats that serve no purpose, bindings on the waist, and for the last point, she raises an eyebrow quizzically.

"Nope. This isn't a problem for you, but trust me, without them? It's all coming undone." It being her thick hair, naturally. She looks to a woman who isn't quite close, so she can observe without being noticed. "I'd have to cut half of it off to blend in with them."

[thingpuncher]

"Weird," is all Midnighter says. He's never had long hair, never wanted to. Andrew had entertained the idea, once, but... whatever.

"Take it from somebody who doesn't belong anywhere," he says with a casual air, "people'll assume you're supposed to be there nine times outta ten. They'll just think you're weird, not an invader. Not an outsider. People'll believe anything if it means they don't have to deal with something weird popping up."

In short: they'll think Aloy is eccentric, but not, you know, a time traveler. At least, that's what he thinks. His experience with time travel is actually relatively low, given the universal average back home.

[rappels]

His advice gets her to laugh, and though it's dry and sarcastic, it seems genuine.

"People must be more trusting around this time," she comments idly, but it's not as bitter as it might have been when she was chosen as the Seeker for the Nora. She doesn't actually know it, but she's also right. Outsiders are more threatening when society is as fragile as it is in her time, so she hadn't travelled anywhere where she was greeted as being weird instead of an outsider. Even when she proved that she wasn't a savage Nora like people imagined them in their stories, she was still an outsider.

Which, honestly? That suited her just fine. She was no fan of the tribe she was technically a part of, and she hadn't felt especially attached to any other. Talanah had described it in the way she liked best—she wasn't Aloy of the Nora, she was Aloy despite the Nora.

"We have that in common, I guess," she elaborates, "but where I'm from, you're definitely considered an outsider. Maybe even a savage if you're lucky."

If the first statement wasn't bitter and sarcastic, that part definitely is.

"So just being 'weird' I can handle."

[thingpuncher]

"Probably just lazy," Midnighter comments. "If you're real trouble, they'll have to deal with it." Because, to him, everybody seems paranoid as hell. But maybe that's the microexpressions, the furtive glances that only his computer can pick up. It means people want things going wrong to be someone else's problem even more than usual.

"Where you're from sounds like shit," Midnighter continues, bluntly honest. He remembers hunting machines with bows and arrows. What an incredible waste of time, what a colossal pain in the ass. "Not that this place is much better. I'm a big fan of indoor plumbing, personally."

[rappels]

Aloy snorts with amusement, a dry half-laugh. It might as well be at both of his comments, because she finds both true in a cynical way. The first just gets a shrug, since there's nothing more to say to it, really. It's fair enough by her measure, since if they find her to be trouble, they're welcome to try and do something about it. At least the other part has something for her to actually speak to.

"It's not great," she admits easily. It may be her home, but she has no strong ties to any place but the home she'd grown up in with Rost. That tiny set of huts was the only place she felt she belonged—everywhere else, she was the outsider. "You wouldn't last where I'm from if your concern is indoor plumbing. Meridian is the only place I've seen that even has water flowing through it that's not a river."

And that had been a marvel to her, but she doesn't admit that. At least she's explored ruins of the old world enough by now to know what plumbing even is.