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

[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.

[agogenpc]

Little Xici does not kick. She will not waste any more energy on these rebel dogs. Her head snaps in the direction of the voice-- a man's, or someone with a voicebox implant to give them a deeper tone-- and if one can glower through a blindfold, Xici has accomplished it.

"I need nothing from you pugnates," she says, voice full of spite. Her tone makes it clear that whatever 'pugnate' is, it's meant to be a dire insult. "Especially your pity."

[northerndragon]

"It's not pity," he says, watching her closely. "You're caught. You can be more comfortable or less. If I were in your place, I'd choose more."

He can see the scowl under the blindfold, but there must be a reason they've chosen to blindfold her at all. He thinks they're not convinced she won't escape or be freed, or they don't intend to kill her... probably one of those. Or she can contact the Regency just as he could contact COST at any moment. If that's it, don't they have a way of stopping it, now that she's been captured?

[agogenpc]

"Are you always so kind to those who want you dead, aggressor?" She spits another insult, one that won't have any weight for another two thousand years. "That's no way to win a war."

[northerndragon]

That one makes a little more sense than 'pugnate,' but he only raises his eyebrows for a moment. It's not much different in impact from one of the Free Folk spitting Crow at him. It's a line on the ground but it doesn't hurt him.

"Not always. It depends which war you're fighting." Being kind to those who had previously wanted him dead was exactly how he'd won something: the lives of as many people as he could save, without regard for which side of the Wall they'd been born on. It was also exactly how he'd lost his own life.

"I'm sorry, I don't know your name, my lady." She may not be one, but better to be courteous here. "It's strange you're calling me 'aggressor' when you're saying you want me dead."

[agogenpc]

"I want you to answer for your crimes against the legitimate government of Lemuria," she says with the rapidfire pitch of someone who's said the line a thousand times. Are any of the words she's saying really her own?

"I am Tamomarr Xici of Little Hama, and I wish to speak to a Chronaic representative; you are impuning upon my rights under the Winhoek Accord."

[northerndragon]

That's a torrent of words that mean nothing to him, and he's reminded again that he really doesn't know as much about any of this as he should or as he would like to. So he tries to remember the words: Lemuria, Little Hama, Chronaic, Winhoek Accord. Two places, some kind of treaty that might amount to an oath, and... something else.

"I don't know anything about any of that. What are your rights under that accord, Tamomarr Xici?"

They might explain the blindfold.

[agogenpc]

She scoffs. "I didn't believe them when I heard they were recruiting from other times and worlds. Tamomarr is my tier name, outworlder. Xici is praenomen." She would be rolling her eyes if they weren't, you know, blindfolded.

"I am due a fair trial by my peers, after my accusations have been spoken or read to me. None has happened. I was bundled in the night by warmongers, and await their torture. Water is the least of my concern."

[northerndragon]

He thinks he understands this, not from the word praenomen but from the idea of a name having a tier. That must be something like Stark or Snow.

"Well, I'm not accusing you of anything, Xici, but I can't speak for the commanders here." There are circumstances, he knows, where he would be tasked with executing her himself; at the moment, those circumstances seem unimaginably distant. "You're wearing the uniform of the people who are invading this area, so I'm not sure who's the warmonger -- though as you say, I'm an outworlder. But I am sure that you'll get hungry or thirsty soon enough, and the cup is in my hand.

"Why haven't you tried to bring me over to your cause?"

[agogenpc]

She spits. "This battle has already happened. The dead have already died. Do not pretend their outmoded concerns apply to us. This battle was lost over a thousand years before I was born."

His next statement actually makes her laugh. "Do you think I could? Is your conviction so fragile, pugnate?"

[northerndragon]

It had been early to ask that question, but there are some answers he might have learned something from, if she had taken the bait. While she hasn't exactly done so in the way he'd thought she might, there's still something to what she's said. This place is a thousand years in her world's past?

"No, but your conviction is firm, and this isn't my fight, either." That's the closest he's come to a lie so far; he's fighting more willingly than most kings might in this situation, because the smallfolk have captured a degree of his sympathy. "You might tell the outworlders of your people."

[agogenpc]

"The Tamo?" There's the first hint of something in her voice that isn't disdain. She can see the logic of this boy. Maybe, despite his association with these warmonger rebels, maybe he has some honor.

"We were farmers, a kalpa ago, but the Grand War killed the sky, and it rained ash on our lands; nothing grew. My line went to mercenary work-- they called us marr, for we were covered with the ash of our dead lands. My line fought and died in stupid skirmishes on the Little Hama, living short lives of disease without honor, and hardly any credit. But when Tal-Viero united the crosslands, he saw the potential of my grandsire, and gave us a chance to prove ourselves. Now, Tamomarr zygotes are kept in the breeding registry, and we have first pick of military service. A generation ago, Little Hama was a curse, a ghetto for genetic trash, but now? I wear it as a badge of pride."

She says it all with her chin raised, daring him to call her honor into question, daring him to say anything against a speech that clearly means the world to her.

"You ask me why I do not try to call you to my cause? You do not deserve it."

[northerndragon]

A kalpa -- he doesn't know what that is, what many of these words mean, but it must be a long time, well before the time of her grandfather. And he can see her pride and defiance in every movement, every word from her mouth. The way she raises her chin brings back strong memories of more than one woman... one who is here, and a wilder one who is dead.

"That's as it may be. I knew a man once who united many tribes to try to save as many as possible from the Long Night. I'm sure the King-Beyond-The-Wall wouldn't measure up to your Tal-Viero, but will you tell me of him anyway?"

[agogenpc]

She shouldn't tell him anything. She shouldn't be talking to him at all. But her death-- or erasure-- ticks nearer every moment. She doesn't look forward to it.

Waiting for the end is a lonely thing.

Tamomarr Xici of Little Hama speaks to a boy from another world. "He was just a military commander. His civilian name was Heresh Sueval of Base Wind-- they called him Windy Suev. His line were all given to military service, of course, but he rose through the ranks with mercury's speed, I heard. It was all before my birthing. When he became a general, he took the public name Tal-Viero Suonn. In your tongue, it means Service Found in Sacrifice." Xici sighs for a moment. She had wanted, once, to rise high enough to earn a public name. But that will surely not happen now.

She gets back to her story.

"The Imperial family was... I am not disloyal to them. They carry the blood of Kuon." She says it emphatically. "But when the crown prince chose Tal-Viero as regent... there was relief."

[northerndragon]

"There's usually sacrifice in service," he replies. All those boys gone out beyond the Wall, so few of them ever coming back, and like the Halfhand had said, nearly all of them ignored and forgotten by those they'd died for. So many men of the Watch had given their lives.

"Who might have been chosen as regent other than Tal-Viero?"

[agogenpc]

"Any meaningful service, yes," Xici echoes, agreeing and correcting both.

"You misunderstand," she says, but for once, it's not an insult. This one is easy to misunderstand; court politics are complex even if you're from their country (and time) of origin.

That, and she's getting used to talking, forgetting their positions a little, letting herself relax by inches. This man sounds honorable enough, and his voice is calming. She'll take what she can get, here, at the end of her life.

"There did not have to be a regency. The first prince came of age before his successor died. But in an act of great humility, though he believed himself equal to the task of rule, he saw that Tal-Viero's innate skill surpassed that of his. So he signed an edict giving Tal-Viero a stewardship's role, Regent over the Empire, until the time of either of their deaths. They are blood brothers, now."

[northerndragon]

She can't see the way the corner of his mouth twitches at 'You misunderstand' -- another echo of a different time and place. He expects to misunderstand now... and to learn things through his misunderstandings. Just now, he thinks he's learned why COST's enemy is called The Regency.

What it sounds like to begin with is that the prince has abdicated in favor of a general, without actually abdicating at all. In some ways, that seems correct to Jon: a man has no business leading people if he's not willing to fight at their side. In other ways, there are still elements of the situation that elude him, caught up in all the unfamiliar names and titles.

"I see, but why was there relief when he did that? Your people wanted Tal-Viero more?"

He approaches her, holds the metal cup near her face. "Water, if you want it." If she accepts it, he'll bring it to her lips so she can sip.

[agogenpc]

"Tal-Viero is a man of the people," Little Xici says, as though she's met the man (she hasn't). She smiles warmly at the thought. "He rose up through the ranks on his own merit. The blood of Kuon can be fickle-- the prince's mother was not a terrible ruler, but some incidents were... mishandled." Her use of the passive voice, translated from even as it is Lemurian to Westerosi, implies a certain discomfort with criticising the royal family in any capacity. "Sanaliel Suu, we knew, would inherit Kuon's legacy of valor and ability, but Tal-Viero had already been tested."

She stews a moment in decision before taking the water almost meekly, a tiny sip, nothing more.