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

he'd have to be cold blooded not to appreciate

[pointedlook]

[ Setting the rifle on the ground, muzzle first, he casually uses it to lean on. The dirt here is damp from the rain but not enough to be completely soaked.

She stops just close enough, seeming to choose her words carefully.

Arthur's eyebrows climb towards his hairline at an alarming rate when she calls him lord. Wow okay. Not something he expected. ]

It's Arthur. [ Let's get that out of the way first. He extends a hand out to her, a formal greeting, like a business transaction. ]

What have they handed you? I know enough to get by. [ That's an understatement. ]

bless him and his armani suits

[dorzalta]

[ Ah, so it was a mistake to address him as lord. She casts a wary glance around them, studying those who stand nearby; they pay the two no notice, prompting Dany to take another step closer. Distraction. There needs to be distraction to draw his focus from her blunder.

It comes in the form of an extended hand, one she considers for a beat too long before she reaches out. Like Yara, this is what his offering reminder her of, and yet they do not discuss transactions or alliances. Still, she reaches for him, her fingers curling around his forearm to lightly squeeze. ]

I'm Daenerys.

[ Soon, she's pulling her hand away, the pads of her fingers grazing his inner wrist before she reaches for the arakh-like blade, as well as the butcher's knife. ]

You've experience in battles, Arthur?

he's rocking turn of the century French fashion for now

[pointedlook]

[ Her motions are wary, nervous. The title had been a mistake, that he can see easily in the way she reacts afterwards. Sliding his gaze to the side, he notes that everyone else is ignoring them. Good.

She takes the offered greeting and he only jerks a little bit away when she clasps his forearm instead of just his hand. That's. Unexpected. Weirdly invasive? But it probably isn't intentionally rude.

Though immediately that's banished as her fingers drag on his wrist. Brow furrowing, he drops his hand out of the grip, primly tugging his sleeve further down. ]

Nothing large scale. I've seen my fair share of fights, though.

[ Another glance around before he meets her gaze. ] Here, let's walk.

blow her away with a suit later, bb

[dorzalta]

Far more than the men and women here, I take it. The last battle I'd witnessed had been in under the sun's unforgiving watch.

[ Were he in Jerusalem as well, he may understand her. Otherwise, he'd likely think her mad. Either would be acceptable at this point. If he's part of COST, she's found a kindred spirit; if he's one of the smallfolk of these lands, he'll likely dismiss her as an overemotional woman. Most men did.

Dany places her weapons back where she'd stashed them and falls into step beside this man with his strange weapon. She'd watched others load their guns, nearly flinching when the loud crack! of attack rattled her ears. It's not unlike a cannon, just smaller in size. ]

Which you've clearly survived, so I've approached the correct person. What sort of fights have you seen?

[ She could talk about large scale... most of the battle she's been in were precisely that. ]

what if he just blows her I MEAN WAHT

[pointedlook]

That's a possibility.

[ A very large one. The people around them have nerves all about their person, eyes wide with stress and inexperience. He tries not to think about how that will certainly get them killed. ]

The desert? Unforgiving is one way to put it. [ Something about that itches at the back of his mind, but he frowns, thinks it's probably just him layering Mombasa over the sentence. Dusty, dirty, back stabbing Mombasa. Why Eames likes that place, he'll never understand. ]

A lot of one on one. Though, being chased by larger groups who've wanted my head was not uncommon. [ Unfortunately. ] Personally, I mostly use firearms and hand to hand. Knives in emergencies.

How would you say your coordination is?

I MEAN IF HE WANTS TO

[dorzalta]

[ She merely hums in affirmation. Yes, the desert. It's nearly like home, in some ways. At least she's accustomed to the sun versus the cold and wet.

Though... something about what he admits to--the fact that so many wish for his head--has her sparing him a look. ]

Why did they wish for your head, Arthur?

[ Not quite something a relative stranger admits to so readily. At least none she's encountered, save for the sell-swords. While he looks like none she's seen, that's not to discount him in the slightest. Did his boasts of experience not affirm that he had the proper background for this? ]

That depends. In combat? I'm no knight or sell-sword. I've defended myself with items near me upon a moment's notice, but never with a sword or traditional weapon. [ What's a gun, even???? ] Fire. I've used fire.

HE'LL WANT TO, TRUST

[pointedlook]

[ She's angling him a look and he can feel it. Much like the glances that Mal would give him when he wasn't being entirely upfront. ]

I'm good at my job. Sometimes people don't really like that.

[ Very good. The best, as Eames and Cobb have both pointed out. Arthur prides himself in his ability to track down almost every piece of information necessary before going on a job. And then the execution– that should be as smooth as possible with him to oversee. ]

Fire? Like, a flamethrower or are we talking torches? [ It's. Well, it's a place to start at least. ] I can get you up to speed on knives– they're handy in tight situations. As for the rest, it depends on where you'd rather focus.

OKAY I DO I DO

[dorzalta]

I see. [ No, she doesn't, not entirely. But he has his secrets, and she has hers. Dany, at least, has enough sense to leave it alone. And perhaps try again at a later date. ] So they wish for your head as opposed to allying themselves with you? Seems a rather foolish thing to do on their parts.

[ Perhaps a little prying... ]

I'm unfamiliar with what a flamethrower is. I mean fire. A funeral pyre, dragon fire, even the flames of a large brazier. I burn my enemies, Arthur. Perzys ānogār, [ she murmurs in the purr of High Valyrian. ] Fire and blood.

[ But her House's motto would do her well only up to a point here. She would need to learn the ways of battle, and his offer to... 'get her up to speed on knives' would be most useful. It's why she stops short, reaching for his wrist to catch his attention. ]

Thank you. [ Two simple words, but she says them wholeheartedly. ] I have a knife and an arakh. Shall we start with those now?

[pointedlook]

Didn't say it was a smart thing. [ He shrugs and the words are without bite. Dreamshare was a weird world, not one easily explained. And not really something he wanted to get into. ]

We'll make do with torches, if it comes to it. [ Arthur says this with a wondering tone, already considering how best to make use of such a skillset. In all honesty, it could come in handy. This was the era of boiling pitch and fire-tipped arrows, after all. Though, there is something in there that niggles at his mind. ]

Dragon fire? As in. A dragon?

[ He's seen a lot in dreamshare but she isn't from that world. So. Mythical beasts. Not so mythical? ]

No problem. [ There's a bit of selfishness in this training– the better the people are around him, the less chance he has of dying. ] Yeah, let's start there. Show me how you'd hold them first and then what a stabbing motion would be.