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

[lonelywar]

[Yeah, he really needs to lighten up, but unfortunately this is just how he is.

It wasn't who he had always been. Surely, when his life was still tied to his village and his people, he might have had more opportunity for levity—as much as they could afford, being a dying people hidden away for fear of subjugation or being put to the sword. He had had a very specific trajectory of his life set before him, and the wild wave that was Nago crashing through the woods towards the village had irrevocably changed it. Who he was then, what he had promised and planned to do, all of it was dust in the wind now. Now he was a man with a curse, every breath on borrowed time, and even though his mortality was seemingly preserved by COST, he couldn't get it out of his head that he should still do here what he had been doing back there.

And that had been doing "what he had had to do," even if it had bloodied his hands and gotten him shot through the chest. He had no regrets, though he wonders if he can manage to still be so self-assured here.

His jaw sets, and he thinks of the samurai who had brought war to Irontown and the people there that had happily obliged. He certainly knew that they thought highly of the firearms, that they were simple and powerful weapons that anyone could use to kill, not requiring the same type of strength and training a sword or bow might. That they might one day become so powerful that they would be considered humane. Disgust is written clearly across his face. It almost makes him feel as though it wasn't worth it.

No. He couldn't think like that. He shakes his head.]

That is no excuse. ["That's just the way things are." His jaw sets again.

This man's outlook is strange to Ashitaka. Flippant almost, though not out of apathy so much as awareness. Jaded, perhaps? He could be wrong. It causes a sinking in his stomach, and he hopes fervently that he never arrives to the same perspective.] I have seen battle before, even if it was from a different time. [He suspects most things don't change.

He is silent a moment longer before continuing, tone heavy,] It seems counter-intuitive that peace can only be welcomed after a violent watershed. No one seems to be looking for alternatives. Surely we can try to find another way to subvert this conflict.

[trample]

[ Ashitaka would be correct -- it was anything but apathy. It was because he was so desperate to not be apathetic that he became like this. A younger him would have struck himself in the jaw for thinking anything close to that. What Eren would have given to have that innocence back. But, like his passion, that was long lost. All that remained was a lingering sense of right and wrong. ]

You're a good kid. [ That's likely about the same age as him, but you didn't hear that from anyone. ] I envy you your optimism. Alternative methods...well, you hardly ever hear about something like that on the day right before a battle. Everyone's already given themselves up to the cause.

[ He says everyone. What he means is "most." Out of all these soldiers, a few would retain their ideals like the one in front of him, and fewer still would be able to enact them. He was once one of them. Now he was just a bystander to the gambles of greater men. There was little he could do but offer a few words of his wisdom. But at the same time, that small opportunity was something worth clinging onto. Eren saw no point to crushing his hopes further. ]

What's your name? I want to know who I'm rooting for here. Mine's Kruger.

[ A lie as natural as breathing. But the intent behind it was real. Eren wanted to spur him on. Who knows, maybe he'll succeed. You'll never know until it happens. ]

[lonelywar]

[War was a crucible that burned the good out of people. He had seen it, seen Eboshi's desire to provide a better life for those society shunned and spurned turned into something avaricious and violent, seen San dive into a city full of people more than willing to spill her blood just so she could strike blindly at revenge. He saw that they were both good people at heart, but the world and its cruelty had placed a demon within all of them—some merely embraced it rather than keeping it at bay. Perhaps that was where this man was, somewhere in-between these options, having reached with it an uneasy impasse.

Ashitaka had always thought the mark would kill him before war's crucible forged him into something he wouldn't want to be. Here... he had to be wary of different eventualities.

He's silent a moment, considering the man's words.] It is easier, to give into it and consign yourself to battle. [He knows he has fought back the impulse. He knows that to fight wouldn't fix anything in a lasting way; it was only a bandage over a wound that would continue to fester.] I know there is little we can do to change the tides of this war without bringing too much attention to ourselves. But... we should be aware of what we can do to help who we can.

[Regardless of side. Ashitaka would do what he must to defend his own life, but past that, he held no ill will to their opponents.

He glances up to the newly-identified Kruger.] I'm Ashitaka.

[He pauses a moment longer before continuing,] And what of you, Kruger? What do you plan to do in this upcoming battle?

[trample]

That I can't say. [ He rubs the covered part of his face with his thumb, letting a tight breath out in the pause he takes after speaking curtly. ] But with a leg and eye like mine...I'll leave it to your imagination. I can aim a rifle just fine, but I'm just about fucked for riding a horse at anything faster than a trot, and I can't march worth a shit either. That just leaves one option.

[ He might have smirked, if the two of them weren't so dead serious all the time thus far. ]

Same as last time. I'm gonna be doing the honors for everyone like myself. [ He makes a sawing motion against his leg, complete with a few added sound effects. Hopefully, Ashitaka would lighten up with this. It hadn't failed yet. ] Meaning, I'll be cutting off the legs of anyone unfortunate enough to take a hit down there. Thankfully, the equipment here's less barbaric. No real sedatives, though...a shame. [ He gives Ashitaka an expectant, joking look. ] I don't suppose you'll help me to hold them down, would you?

[lonelywar]

[He had taken the injuries into account, though firearms gave lethal power to anyone who had the ability to operate them. The lack of mobility posed a far larger issue, and Ashitaka nodded in understanding as Kruger mentioned it. For the kid's merit, he doesn't look particularly fazed by the other young man's language, though it was a good deal more... colorful than what he was used to. Ashitaka chalks it up more to a general culture shock, one that he had been facing both with the place they were now and its locals but also the other COST agents, which had their own unique quirks. He simply tried to keep up with their meaning, though large swathes of reference and idiom were quite simply beyond him.

It hadn't failed yet, but the pantomime might've met its match with Ashitaka—what can I say, he's just a really serious guy. But his impassivity does falter a moment as he looks quite simply off-balance by the casual nature of the gesture for something really quite brutal in reality. He re-composes himself, though, looking grim. It made sense, though the need for such things was still sobering to him.]

I see... That is difficult work. [Ashitaka had only limited first aid experience, enough to bandage and brace but little else than that. An amputation... how would one even prevent the patient from dying of blood loss?

He can tell that Kruger is joking, but... it was something odd to joke about. He finds himself curious of this man, wondering what had happened which would allow him to be so flippant about such grave things.] If you needed help, I would lend it. [Ashitaka, missing the point yet again.]

[trample]

[ Nothing really "happened" that made his humor so dark. It wasn't any big event in particular. Just that, if he wasn't laughing, he'd be crying. Not that he was doing much of either, but he was, at the moment, leaning more towards comedy than he was tragedy. And for good reason -- now was the first time in his life he was free of the bonds that chained him down so tightly in his own world. In other words, let him have a little fun for now. Certainly, he'd soon fall back in line once the horrors of war had their way with him. ]

Well, if I can't find anyone, I'll ask around for you. [ This is said in jest. Ashitaka would be his last resort. There's nothing that kills a hero's spirit like the sight of a comrade's blood or the sound of their shrieks. If anything, Eren would be making an effort to keep him far away from the medical sites. None of these thoughts shone through his measured voice, however. ] Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. How amazing it would be if we could all come back from this fight without wounds.

[ His eye glances to his left side with the typical somber expression. ]

I have some other work that I must be doing now, but I figure should tell you this much -- you're a good kid. I'd be glad if you could live a full life. So don't go off and die on the battlefield for some folks you don't know. You can come back thanks to our benefactors, but...don't take it lightly just 'cause of that.

[ The deep words are...somewhat stifled by the fact that Eren, though trying to be dramatic, couldn't possibly manage to accentuate anything properly due to having to lean on his crutch and thereafter hobble away slowly, even going so far as to stubbornly force himself to pick up the pace after realizing his own folly. But he did have hope for Ashitaka, that much was certain. ]

[lonelywar]

[Bit of a lost cause, since Ashitaka had already seen a great deal in the medical tents in Jerusalem (and not to mention what he had seen — and caused — back home), but he was welcome to do it. He's unaware of that plan, however, and merely gives a dutiful nod.] I will do what I can to be available. [Missing the joking tone yet again. People didn't really do a lot of joking back where he's from. He's still acquiring an ear for it.

There's a tinge of sorrow on his face at that statement. He looks thoughtful for a moment before giving a nod.] Yes, that would be incredible. [He would have to try to make it happen, however he felt he could. Inaction was a poison to Ashitaka. Even if COST had halted the steady march the demon mark had made upon his mortality, its presence still acted as a personal call to action. He already had a few plans to try to minimize the worst and messiest types of casualties, though a bloodless battle was a vain hope (and even he knew that).

It's a little strange to be called a 'good kid;' one reason being he isn't even sure how much older this man is than him, and another is that Ashitaka would be well within range of being respected as a man grown in his own village. It doesn't really seem something to argue with, however; he simply shoulders it, though what Kruger wishes for him is something not within either of their hands. His life had not been his own since he had taken the life of a god, even if it had decayed into the ire of a demon. His life had become fighting in the battlefields of strangers to try to find a way to absolve his curse.]

That is not always within our power. [This isn't said in a way that's conversational; Ashitaka murmurs it in undertone, the bone showing pale beneath the skin of his knuckles as his right fist clenches. The mark almost feels like a weight.] But I have no intention on dying. See that you keep yourself safe as well, Kruger. [There would be danger, no matter where they were.

As for coming back, Ashitaka doesn't even touch it. He doesn't understand it, and in a way he does not believe it (even though he had been brought back to life, in a way, by the touch of a god, but that was a god). He would continue to live and fight as if the life he had was the sole possession he owned, as normal.

Kruger was leaving, and he found it polite to do so as well. He gives the man a quiet nod before striding off into the camp, rifle left behind.]