THROUGH STRIFE AND FAMINE AND WAR AND PEACE,

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Fight in the historic Battle of Valmy.
WHEN? September 20th, 1792. Valmy.
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

MISSION OBJECTIVE

Win the day!

Historically, Valmy was an unexpected victory for France that really kicked off the French Revolution. Make sure this holds true! Don't let the Prussians break through French lines, take either Dumouriez or Kellerman, and survive.

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO GOETHE

The life of Goethe was saved by those who volunteered to keep him from the clutches of Regency assassination, though it was a near thing; they were not able to leave completely stealthily, and had to run back to French lines as dawn broke.

Most important after saving the life of Goethe, they were able to apprehend and capture the Regency spy. She is in holding, restrained in a tent hidden far behind enemy lines. You can speak with her, if you wish.



SHARPSHOOTING

Famously, Kellerman had his troups climb up a windmill and the nearby farmhouse to shoot down at the valley below and the Prussians attempting to run through it from the cover of the forest. Take out as many Prussians as you can. Alternatively, if you're not much for shooting but you're quick fingered and organized, you can help reload the shooter's muskets, hand them supplies, more musket balls and powder, fresh muskets when one of theirs becomes jammed, or simply keep the rain out of their eyes.

Battery

You hear that? It's canonfire! Cannons take at least two people to load, aim and fire, making it a steady process requiring teamwork and balance. You want to go as fast as possible so the attacking army doesn't get right up to your nose, after all. Be careful! Don't drop a cannonball on your foot.

COMBAT

Get into the thick of it! There's less armor in this era, more quick jabs with sabers and bayonets, and your pistol can only hold a single bullet at a time. Unless you've got time to reload, you're better off just throwing the thing aside after firing a shot-- you'll see this tactic is popular among troops on either side, not wanting to be weighed down by a now-useless hunk of metal. Horses are not uncommon either, though they're largely reserved for officers who are more than happy to reach down and stab you while they ride by… if they don't just run you over in the first place. And did I mention the cannonfire occasionally making the ground explode into huge chunks? Try to avoid those.

MEDICAL

As always, wounded soldiers require assistance. The medical tent has a steady supply of the wounded, many with injuries from cannonfire, where limbs have been blown off almost in their entirety, and blood gushes readily from damaged major arteries. Act quick, and don't be afraid to, uh, amputate. Nobody else is.

STEALTH

There is reason to believe some Regency spies are undercover as French officers, and intend to kill either Kellerman or Dumouriez. Stay near the generals and protect them... without letting on. Capturing the spies alive would be a serious boon for COST, so if you could manage not to kill the spy, please? ...Please?

INFORMATION is worth its weight in gold

The way these battles work is reliant on the generals sending information down to their troops from the hills they're using to overlook the fighting. Fast riders or runners are essential for this task, and it affords you an opportunity to be near either general should you need to protect them against spying. Or maybe the runners are the spies? Who knows. Regardless, try to preserve the flow of information, and fix any tangles that may appear. If a runner with vital orders gets attacked, back them up; if they get killed, replace them; if they disappear… figure out what happened?

cannon killer squad

For the fast, stealthy, and / or magically gifted, Takatora has set up a 'Cannon-killer' plan, intending to weaken Prussian artillery through magic, speed, and the application of giant hammers. It's risky-- you'll have to get pretty close to the Prussian lines-- but it's worthwhile if you can weaken them even a little.

I'm going down I'm yelling timber

At some point late in the day, just when the worst of the rain has finally stopped, Prussian artillery finally gets aim good enough to send a volley of cannonballs straight at the windmill and farmhouse on the hill. There's a reason this strategy was considered a bold move; stationary targets are never safe in wartime. The windmill comes down in an explosive crash, and the farmhouse begins to collapse. Were you caught in the crossfire? Are you coming to pull bodies out of the rubble? Do what you can to recoup from this loss.

MORALE

When all else fails, keep spirits high. This battle will be impossible without enthusiastic troops committed to the cause. Give rousing speeches! Inspire people! Sing a song! Do whatever you need to.

read the valmy setting infopage

NAV NETWORK LOGS OOC PLURK DISCORD

Comments

PLACEHOLDER.

[agogemod]

LITTLE XICI.

[agogenpc]

In the tent that the Commander has secured for COST use, a girl is tied to a center support pole and blindfolded. She is being guarded lightly; she isn't making much of an attempt to escape. Her expression under the blindfold, though, is one of rage and frustration.

The guards will not stop you if you attempt to talk to this true believer, this resolute follower of the Regency. Good luck getting anything worthwhile out of her, but it's worth a try, right? When the main battle is over, she'll be interrogated properly by the Commander. Until then, maybe you can soften her up, make the job easier.

Or, who knows, maybe you can try to be nice, get her some water. She's dirty, still wearing a Prussian uniform, chest bound, hair tied back. It's not impossible to be sympathetic toward this bound and blindfolded creature.

[northerndragon]

The livery soldiers wear here seems inconsistent... here a blue coat, there a red hat... but even in the dim light of the tent, there's no doubt that the blindfolded young woman is on the other side.

What is "the other side"? At home, every day, Jon is less and less convinced of sides and enemies and petty politicking, more convinced of the need for people to band together. The situation is not quite the same here, and he understands that there are two wars: the French with their smallfolk and the attacking Prussians, and the hidden fight between the Regency and COST. This girl is an enemy in both.

He'd been a spy for a while himself, not quite willing and often full of fear that his ruse would be discovered, and ready to lie to protect the Watch, his brothers. He thinks of how he would have wanted to be treated under those circumstances, and how Mance had treated him, even while suspecting him the entire time.

She's not him, and he has no illusions that she'll tell him anything true, but it's worth the attempt before someone else tries something harsher.

"You must be thirsty," he says, with a little bit of sympathy in his voice, but not standing quite close enough for her to kick.

[lonelywar]

There is much and more that Ashitaka still does not completely understand, from the immediate and palpable conflict brewing around him on French soil to the loftier machinations of COST and its struggles against the Regency. He has in hand pieces to this puzzle, though he felt they only gave him a fragmented sort of look on it. It would not do. To put on blinders and believe only in what is set before oneself is a path that he has seen lead to hatred and destruction. The wise woman had bid him farewell from his people and his home, leaving him only the words to see with eyes unclouded by hate to cling to in his journey.

He had spoken with those that were the same types of gods as the one who had cursed him. He had spoken with the woman that had poisoned that god and sent him, enraged, across his own path. In those situations, his own anger had been sharper and more personal, so it had been a larger struggle to remain calm and stay his hand. As he nodded to the guard posted by the tent and shouldered his way inside, he finds that he was not afflicted with the same anger—just frustration and the same restlessness he had felt since awakening in Jersualem a short while ago.

In a way, she is like a mirror. Similar emotions are written on her face, despite the cloth blindfold obscuring half of her expression. He withholds all judgments, wasting no time in approaching. A few feet away from where she is bound to the support pole he lowers himself to sit seiza, hands resting on his knees. He is silent for a moment, weighing words.

"I have questions." His tone is neutral, somewhat cautious. "Would you answer?"

[hakanai]

Yoshitsugu is muddied, a little bloody and feverish. Soon he is going to have to slip away and spend some good time recuperating, having done as much as his body will allow him in the main battle, but before that...

The captive from the mission.

He doesn't even stand once he slips into the COST tent and moves to the area where she's secured, pulling up a stool and taking a seat. Yoshitsugu remains quiet and thought for a while, until he says, in a very matter-of-fact way:

"You're a flawed representative."

[mylawn]

It's easy for 76 to laser-focus on the immediate tasks--prepare for battle, sabotage the enemy equipment, fight and survive. The rapid-fire pace between Jerusalem and Valmy has important questions about why they're here and who they're really fighting shoved into the back of his mind, and it's only when he has a moment that he realizes he still has more questions than answers. For one thing, he can't be entirely sold that COST is actually the good guys--sure, so far their aims have been to preserve the flow of history, which he can reasonably say is the right thing to do, but with such a large gap in his memory and the possibility he may have been kidnapped, 76 isn't totally convinced.

He finds it strange that the guards outside the tent don't stop him, and he finds himself wondering who else has come and gone. Is the Commander really going to trust them with access to a prisoner? Will the guards be enough, if someone particularly determined decides she should be freed?

But it seems like a missed opportunity not to try and ask her a few questions, which has him taking his chances in the tent. He makes deliberate noise when he enters, enough to let her know that someone new is here, but 76 doesn't actually say anything, instead standing there and watching her. It's a purposeful moment of silence, an attempt to make her sweat.

eren yeager | open & closed

[trample]

[ starters in the comments since I'm gonna be a bit sporadic right after posting this. ]

high risk, high reward. (closed to morrigan)

[trample]

"...And that's the plan. The worst of it is just getting into the enemy camp to begin with. After that, it should be smooth sailing. Kick back for a few hours while the assassin takes their sweet time, and once they rear their ugly mug round Go...thuh's tent, you show them what for."

It's a strange thing to put this amount of trust in a stranger. But then again, it's not like she was feeling any different regarding him. He understands that much, so it's enough to simply shrug off any worries for now and let it slide. Hopefully that much they can agree on, but he figures if it gets hairy between the two of them due to any disagreements, he can just keep quiet and it'll simmer down.

"If everything works out, we'll be hitting the hay back at base before the sun's up. That's if nothing goes wrong." He pauses, awkwardly looking at the ground. "I sure hope that's how it goes."

[courtintrigue]

This is not the first time Morrigan has been corralled into an adventure she would rather not have. She knows none of the other three who were given the assignment, and the young man she is partnered with for this is... not exactly inspiring her. Trust, she has learned, is a layered thing, and she barely has any to spare for this.

Stiffly, she lets out an audible sigh. "I doubt anyone would call me an optimist, but perhaps you should avoid leading any armies. Filling others with confidence is not your strength."

She must hope fact-gathering and observation are, she supposes. Perhaps he has an eye for detail, as unfortunate as that turn of phrase seems in this case.

"You feel certain of this author's location?"

Au author, of all things. Not a commander, a renowned strategist, a king, another spy. All she can think is that his life better prove valuable to the larger-than-life cause COST attempts to sell.

Joel | OTA

[i_swear]

I: Best Laid Plans...

[Materials aren't hard to come by. There's no duct tape to cinch it all together with, but he's handy enough to know how to make do without it. Broken bayonets secured to sticks via scavenged cording and cloth, bottles of alcohol and oil, dirty fabric plugged into their necks. At the fringes of the battlefield, Joel's tugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, sweating out the last few minutes of silence before any troops begin to encroach with a good old fashioned dose of sabotage.

He was a Hunter for a long time. He knows how to lay a good trap.

The problem is, he also intends to go it alone. Wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm, Joel exhales sharp for a moment— the only pause he gives himself before jamming a few more scavenged pikes into the grass, lower than the foliage sticks out. Better watch your step.]

II: Hurt Comfort Meme

Get up. [It's the dig of a rough hand around one of your arms, hoisting you up off of the muddy ground.] C'mon. On your feet.

[Joel might be impatient about lending a helping hand to his fellow wounded soldier, but he's not cruel enough to make the pain of any injuries that (you) might've sustained on the battlefield any worse. In his other hands he's holding the reigns to a horse— tall and tawny-colored— impatiently chomping at its bit amidst the deafening chaos of battle. There's no rider on its back, but it's easy enough to put two and two together as Joel nudges you towards the open saddle.] The horse'll take you back to camp. You can get patched up there.

[But just in case you might've assumed he's being a guardian angel on the battlefield, the hand that was at your side extends expectantly, open palmed.] Pass off your weapons first.

III: Wildcard

[OOC: Anything else you feel like doing? Want to combine prompts? Skip to the action? Hit me up at ladyavali or just give me a starter and I'll run with it.]

[pointedlook]

[ Since the shooting and yelling and bleeding started, he's been on his feet. He'd originally been on the edges of the lines, sharp eyes and sharper trigger finger taking out Prussians from a distance. But now that his line has been relieved for a break, he's taken it upon himself to stay in motion. Over the past hour, it's been reloading muskets, refilling powder satchels, reorganizing musketball cases.

Arthur's finally decided to pull away from the work, eyes starting to cross. He's looping around the camp, hands in his pockets, taking in what everyone else is up to. On the far side of their lines, up near where the enemy could cross, he sees someone working. Just one.

Carefully, he picks his way over, stopping just short of the area, on a small hill of dirt. More like a batter's mound than anything else. ]

Traps. You want some help?

[i_swear]

If you know what you're doing.

[He scavenged these supplies himself— from their own side, and from the enemy's scraps wherever they could be found. It wasn't easy going, and he sure as hell didn't work up a sweat to burn the last of his resources on some neophyte that's never had to lay a good pitfall in the middle of a fight.

Which is why he doesn't move to offer any of those supplies to Arthur just yet, watching him from out of the corner of his eyes.

If Arthur can find his way through that figurative minefield to the safe space sitting at Joel's side, he'll have earned it, he figures.]

best laid plains

[courtintrigue]

[ Back at base before the sun's up, Eren had said. Should be smooth sailing, he had said. I sure hope, he had said.

Daybreak sees her running across the field as a cat, an irritated blur of black fur and golden eyes. The enemy was aware of her group's presence when they fled, and while she cast a subtle glyph on the ground behind them to knock back the first few who thought to pursue, a real battle will break out soon.

With such momentum fueling her, she fails to anticipate or even truly recognize the well-hidden trap before her until pain sears across the side of her face, making her let out a short yowl of protest. Slinking through it all is not as hard once she realizes what she has rushed into, but she hisses on principal once she has reached the safety of a small cluster of trees and barely steps behind it before shifting back into her own form.

Dressed more or less like a man of this time and place, minus any coattails, she blots blood away from her cheekbone with her fingers. Her face is flushed, much of her hair escapes the pins that hold it back, and her eyes betray her recent lack of sleep. It takes a moment, but the stranger's presence registers and she warily turns her face toward him, not knowing if he is just another man ready to fight or one brought from another world like her. His next move will dictate the severity of hers. ]

[i_swear]

[He might be old, but his ears are sharp: he hears the scattered sound of an animal rushing through the underbrush, its footfalls soft— and then its yelp as it retreats. Back home, he might've rushed after it, but here he doesn't ration his every meal, doesn't starve any time he's too busy to hunt.

But when she emerges from that same patch of foliage without any noticeable warning (no footsteps, no approaching sound other than the moment she steps clear of the treeline), his attention snaps upwards. If his furrowed brow and hard set jaw are any indication, he's just as wary as she is.

Joel's not a bleeding heart, after all: the sight of blood on her cheek doesn't spark a need to make sure she's all right. Still, a second later his eyes drop to the colors she's wearing. Familiar enough.]

You one of ours?

hurt comfort

[heilt]

( she hears the gruff words across the field, her ears almost pricking at 'medical attention'. it isn't long before angela's over there, hand on joel's arm to let him know that someone else has arrived before she begins looking over her patient )

Did you see it happen?

( it's a battlefield, it's not difficult to know what happened, but the more specific information that angela has the better her treatment can be )

[i_swear]

[Strangely enough, he doesn't look too happy to be interrupted by an attentive medic: his outstretched hand only barely nudged out of the way. He wants those weapons, and as far as he's concerned, he's going to get them whether or not she's trying to play medic.]

No. [Gruff and irritable, he reaches up to yank a pistol loose from their bleeding friend, clearly not minding the fact that they're, you know, not at all well.] Not my problem.

[horsepowered]

1.
In the end, not being able to reload a musket quickly was not the issue that Chiron expected it to be. Being handed firearm after firearm, relying on someone else to load, that was far easier and far, far better for his own skillset. His eyes were as good as ever on that front.

There were very few misses from Chiron as he went through shot after shot. As hurried as the troop movement was, as unpredictable as men were, they sank into flesh, tearing through, sometimes embedding into flesh and other times coming out the other side.

"Next," he said calmly, handing down his just fired musket and ready to exchange it for a new one.

2.
Shooting was not the only skill Chiron had, and in truth, he knew that as the battle raged on he was eventually better suited for applying his skills in the medical tent rather than remaining in the field.

His own station was meant to help those who may or may not need amputation, depending on the wound and how bad it was. Chiron had offered to take up the post, knowing that whatever his judgement was, he'd be defining these men's lives and ability to earn income. Anything he said, he needed to be absolutely sure about.

"This one can be retained," Chiron said firmly, as he examined the arm of a young man with a concerning amount of shrapnel in his arm. "Someone get a clean basin of water."

Jacob Frye | OTA

[trainwreckoning]

a ) assassin christmas

Jacob's crouched down on the farmhouse, gun at the ready. He hadn't received such a present before, but it had been pretty easy to find a musket, use his Eagle vision, and take down some enemies.

What is difficult is the technical part. He aims and takes down a few men -

- Jammed.

His eyes widen, and a shot rings past him. "Cover me, at twelve o'clock, a few feet away from that old tree."

And then he hurries to reload another musket. What he forgets is that it's pouring rain and hard to see without Eagle vision.

b ) maybe next time I'll walk

A huge explosion (the hit of canonballs) rumbles across the ground as the windmill and farmhouse collapse... with Jacob on the farmhouse.

He yelps out a curse and then he's sprinting across the farmhouse as fast as he can, the house crumbling inwards fast. He takes a chance and leaps off the building, doing a tumble roll and landing on his feet. The windmill is collapsing toward him, so he runs in the only direction he can. You're fighting near the edge, but Jacob can see how the corner of it will collapse on you. He grabs your hand and pulls you a couple feet in the direction he's going. The windmill finally collapses, shaking the ground enough to knock Jacob off his feet, though they're safe.

He's tired, and it knocks the breath out of him for a good few moments.

c ) sounds like fun

[Not seeing something good? Feel free to start something else or contact me on plurk everlark]

a slightly amended b, if that's cool!

[alsohawkeye]

It's not that she hasn't noticed that the building she's standing on is collapsing beneath the Prussian bombardment, it's just that she's been up here all day and just a second ago she'd finally gotten a clear line of sight at an Austrian commander who has eluded her twice already, and she's determined to get a shot off. She holds steady as long as possible, knees soft to absorb the roof rocking and shuddering beneath her feet. A groan and a massive creaking crack are like the chimes of a clock ticking down to zero, and she lets the arrow fly before turning to find an escape route--and finds her hand grabbed and tugged.

"Hey--!" Kate's first reaction is affront, but this was the direction she was going anyway, and he's dressed like they're on the same side, so she lets herself be pulled, especially as it turns out her would-be rescuer is fast and good at picking out the only safe path to the ground. When he leaps, she follows, rolling out of the landing. Normally she'd make it to her feet, too, but mud this deep isn't something you find in modern cities and it slows her momentum abruptly. Kate splat-slips into a half-sprawled crouch, which is just as well given the thunderous crash of the windmill's demise.

She tugs off a glove to wipe the worst of the mud off her face. It leaves plenty more still smeared around, but that's likely for the best, helping to disguise that she's a woman now that the hat she's been tugging down as low as possible over her face has been lost in the escape. She looks over at Jacob, and lifts a hand. "Hey, you. Thanks."

that is totally cool!

[trainwreckoning]

Jacob found a steadier spot of land to land on, but the force of the windmill falling on the ground finally knocks him forward on his hands. His hands and front are splattered with mud, almost as badly as her. He stands, swiping mud off himself and looking around for her. Once he spots her, he lets out a breath, walking to her.

"No problem. Sorry I got a bit handsy. You okay?"

Most of the soldiers around the windmill are a ways away, having run or jumped, so they have a moment to breathe. Jacob takes stock of what he has still, makes sure he himself isn't hurt.

Cannon Killer Squad ❄ OTA;

[handtowels]

It begins with a message sent over the network. Takatora waits at the edge of the French forces where it's safe to use his BCE without losing sight of the Prussian lines. Looking ahead to the enemy's lines in the far distance, he is outwardly cool despite his anticipation for the task ahead.

Sekigahara was the last time that he dealt with cannons, so it's not entirely new to him. And this time, he and Yoshitsugu are on the same side. That's a definite improvement.

He turns to bows his head in greeting as people begin to arrive.

“That should be everyone. You're all clear on what to do, right?”

A plan so simple doesn't really need much strategy. Get in striking range, hit fast and hard, smash through as many as possible and retreat when it becomes too dangerous to continue.

[mylawn]

76 wasn't expressly built for property damage--just to fight the robot uprising--but he can't deny that he is certainly able to cause a lot of it if he intends to. When the call goes out for a specific mission meant to wreck as much of the enemy's equipment as possible, he knows where he can put his talents. He's fully prepared to tear cannons apart with his bare hands, though from what he understands, there are others who will be making it easier, first.

He follows the location ping when it's time for the group to assemble, giving everyone a quick once-over and nodding in acknowledgement of the plan.

"In and out as quickly as possible."

This isn't his first rodeo--76 understands the type of mission they're about to undertake, and knows that time will, of course, be of the essence.

Yoshitsugu Ōtani | HRHW Mission | Closed to Jacob Frye

[hakanai]

Of course he's starting to fall ill in time for the important stealthy mission. Of course.

"Provided they don't vary overly much from their patrol routes this should go smoothly," Yoshitsugu says to his companion with barely a whisper, wiping his forehead while his gaze remains fixed on the camp just ahead. "The information was good. I expect some variance but your particular skill set will help and I'll be watching to provide distractions and guidance if needed."

Fever creeps through his chest, the heat building and building. It's not going to be bad yet, if he knows his body, but it's enough to make this just a bit more difficult. An efficient strategist and scout needs his wits about him and this will take the edge off. They'll have to wait and see if it dulls it too much to cope with because there's no backing out now.

This needs doing and doing well. Yoshitsugu glances at Jacob and bows his head a fraction.

"If you're unsure of a route at any point and can't see me, wait and watch for a glowing insect, it'll take you the best way I can pinpoint. Are you ready to move?"

[trainwreckoning]

It's hard to pay attention on so little sleep, and with the little patience he has. But Jacob tries. He at least got some food down earlier, so at least his stomach won't growl. He's surprised by the glowing insect comment, but hey, everyone here was different. It sounds like a good idea. That, combined with his Eagle Vision, will be effective and make up for how tired he is.

He does notice the forehead wiping, though. He nods, whispering back - "I'm ready. Are you alright?"

He'll refrain from asking him if he can still do it, assuming he'd admit that if he was sick enough not to do it. They seem to be on the same page, so Jacob likes the partnership.

[hakanai]

Yoshitsugu bows his head in acknowledgement, but starts to creep forward nonetheless.

"No, but it won't set in bad for another few days."

Blunt honesty, because what's the point in lying about something so obvious in a situation like this? It's clearly not affecting his mobility right now; Yoshitsugu is no ninja, no assassin, but he's been accused of being 'part cat' before and can be very graceful and quiet about his movements when he needs to. There's a point nearby where the patrols leave a neat opening on occasion and he can settle into a good lookout spot, a convenient tree with enough foliage to hide him from someone who doesn't know he's there but enough breaks to keep an eye on things and signal as needs be.

"We should get this done as efficiently as possible, however."

When he reaches the tree roots he will pause, stare down at their target, and make a gesture with his head towards it. Go on.

Time to get it done.