THE SKY WENT BLACK,

[agogemod]

WHO? Everybody!
WHAT? Agoge's inaugural TDM.
WHEN? The Battle of Hattin, 1187.
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.

FROM JERUSALEM WITH LOVE;

the horns of hattin, 1187: the holy land

read the jerusalem setting infopage

Your eyes open, and above you is the roof of a tent, a heavy woven material that blocks you from what must be an otherwise glaring heat that is beating down. Near you stands a man - you understand him, but you aren’t sure you are supposed to. Aware as you are that he is speaking Arabic, a trickle of words as he dabs water on your brow, that as you go to reply, you realise, you are speaking Arabic too. Urging you to sit up slowly, and now that you are awake -

“Good, slowly does it. You are meant to have heat stroke. Nothing sudden now. The Commander will explain it to you soon - in here it’s safe, no outsiders can come in. Check your BCE, it will tell you what has happened - ”

As he indicates to the small pack that seems to hold your belongings, he explains: you are in the encampment of Saladin, the greatest commander in all of Islam. He has been fighting the crusading invaders since the death of the Crusader King Baldwin VII. But one of the most important was about to start: you are here, at Hattin, though the enemy hasn’t arrived yet. Not that it means it’s time to rest: this is a war camp. There is much to do. Saladin runs a impressive army, and it wins by its discipline, no idle hands here, and for you, newly awakened to it, there is just as much to do. So enjoy the first few moments of reprieve, there won’t be much of it in the coming days.

MISSION OBJECTIVE

The forces of COST-- allied, today, with the armies of Saladin, though they will never know-- aim to win the day.

This is imperative, because Saladin's victory at Hattin makes his next victory possible: he intends to march on Jerusalem, long held by invading Crusaders, and take his city back. Historically, he wins a Hattin and at Jerusalem. But, the Regency supposes, if they could weaken Saladin in Hattin, perhaps even completely defeat him, he would not be so able to take the city.

Preserve the flow of history. Aid Saladin's army. Defeat the Crusader army at Hattin.

A MESSAGE FROM GROTHIA

>>@CMDR

@ALL I don't have time to explain right now, but the transporters have played havoc on the way in and we think that the - nevermind, the techdacts don't make any sense at the best of times. Your memory has been tampered with, one of the Regency's tricks, no doubt. Price for late intelligence, we didn't know until we made the transfer.

Short of it is, I put you all down as having a bout of heat stroke that knocked you out and that’s the story you need to stick to. Even if you don't want to trust me, you're going to have to follow my instructions if you want to live through the next week. We can do our reintroductions later.

Follow our instructions and we’ll all make it through this with minimal casualties.

Welcome back, soldiers. Good to have you with us again.

WIN THE DAY

MEDICAL

Help build up the army after the Siege of Tiberias.

After this battle, Saladin's forces turn toward Jerusalem, and eventually take it from Crusader control. It's imperative, then, that Saladin's forces are strong, healthy, and most importantly, alive. This is war: there are a larger number of soldiers who are wounded and require medical care to maintain the numbers. Saladin's forces are lucky: their medics are some of the best in the medieval world. But there is constant need for more hands on deck to assist. Whether that’s holding down a soldier to cut off his leg - or dress a wound. Maybe it’s just as simple as a soldier that wakes up from his fever wanting water, there is always something that needs doing.

STEALTH

Sabotage the water supply of the crusaders.

All armies march on their stomach, and in the desert, access to water means life or death. Saladin knows this, and the Crusaders are heading for the largest oasis between Jerusalem and Hattin to replenish their stores. Saladin has placed a line of defense at the oasis to stop the Crusaders. Some truly desperate Crusaders are risking death, attempting to break through the defenses in an attempt to get some water. Your orders are simple: no Crusader should be getting to that water.

STEALTH

You know what else armies need? Sleep. For those brave enough, its been encouraged to try and exhaust those Crusaders. Your orders are vague, leaving plenty of room for creativity: psychologically mess with them, mimic loud animals to wake them up, forcibly introduce these 12th century men to Cyndi Lauper at the top of your lungs. Whatever takes your fancy, just try not wake Saladin’s forces, they still need their beauty sleep. And most importantly: don't get caught.

COMBAT

The Crusaders are here: fight them. Crusaders will in heavy chain mail into battle, often with a padded gambeson underneath them. Aim your weapons for the chinks in the points that quickly immobilize: the throat, armpit, inner elbow, inner thigh, inner knee. You will always want to aim for the veins and joints. This isn't about clean, this is about hard and fast. Battles in the desert are made worse for every hour spent in the gruelly heat.

They fight with heavy sword and shield, and the metal they wear makes them more strongly defended, but also slower; they cannot mount their horses without some help, so if you manage to unhorse a Crusader, they must survive the remainder of the battle on foot. Often if you wounded a horse, it can kill the man riding it.

Medieval warhorses are huge animals that can do serious damage with a single kick; however, by Crusader tradition, many are stallions, which are famously willful difficult to control. Being thrown from one of these horses, especially in armor, is no small thing. This is where by contrast Saladin's army comes into its own. They ride a lighter horse more suited to this kind of warfare, and the cavalry works by spiking in quickly, reigning down an attack, then retreating. The Turks are famous for riding by, and shooting down arrows into foot soldiers before retreating out of range again.

Aside from the knights on their horses, keep an eye on hired mercenaries and others of all classes storming into battle. Watch out for crossbows: a single bolt can punch through thick metal, much less whatever you might be wearing. However, the shots take a great deal of time and strength to load, requiring the user to pull the bolt back while standing on the bow. The weapons are not stealthy, and striking an opponent while they load them is the surest route to victory. More traditional archers are far more difficult to defeat; though their arrows can't cut through metal, they can shoot from much farther away and draw another arrow ten times as fast. Other fighters charge in with cudgels, maces, spears, axes, polearms, and the fervent determination fanaticism brings. Do your fellow soldier on the battlefield a favor: try and take out an archer whenever you can. But for those fielding the arrows, don't stay put, they'll always try and take you out first.

The battle of Hattin is one of the most bloody in the history of the Crusades; famously, it is said that its outcome left the sky black for all the birds hungrily circling the carnage. Your job in this battle is twofold: fight to win, and survive.

COMBAT / STEALTH

Capture Guy D'Lusignan.

History dictates Guy D'Lusignan, current King of Frankish-ruled Jerusalem, is captured by Saracen forces, which later leads to Muslims recapturing Jersusalem from Frankish hands. Help the Saracen war parties ride out, make sure they aren't sabotaged, and attack King Guy's war party. Along with them, you'll find Reynard de Chatillion, another nobleman whose capture will herald a collapse of the Crusader forces. Medieval battle isn't like modern warfare, where soldiers fight on in spite of their leader's capture or death.

A medieval battle ends when one side gives up, or when a leader has been killed or captured. Capturing the heads of an army leads to the immediate death of the battle's morale and will to fight. To win the Battle of Hattin, it is imperative that Guy D'Lusignan and Raynard de Chatillion are captured, as they were in history.

read the jerusalem setting infopage

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC PLURK DISCORD

Comments

[trample]

"Knew you were gonna ask that," he said this like if it were a matter of fact. "That's the most unbelievable part of it all. If you've ever heard tales about giants, that would be a good start. But to call these things giants would be an insult to their intelligence. They were these oversized, fifty foot tall beasts that just so happened to resemble humans."

And they were all your own people, once your friends, once your family, each and everyone one -- he stopped his thoughts there, before he got ahead of himself, too caught up in his own misery to properly continue the story. With a forced cough, he quickly amended himself. There was a certain level of courtesy that should be afforded to this man who seemed agreeable enough, even understanding in some way.

"Anyway, they ate us humans for no real reason in particular. Quite terrifying, really. Beyond the walls lay what might as well been a hell, full to bursting with those vermin. At some point or another, we managed to kill most of the horde and take back all the land we lost. I hesitate to say whether or not we could have done better, though. We certainly tried our damnedest."

Eren stifled a laugh.

"Sounds rather fantastical, in retrospect. I imagine you must have some doubts."

[northerndragon]

[Jon listens to the story frowning. How hard has it been to convince people about the Night King and the Dead? Even faced with a wight that he and his men had captured at great cost, Cersei Lannister had tried to use it as grounds for a deal that would give her an advantage by breaking an alliance that could keep his people strong and that he has personal reasons for not wanting to break. It had taken that much to get anyone very far south of the Wall to listen at all.]

You can't believe every fantastical story you hear, but that doesn't sound like that kind of story to me. I've seen giants. They weren't so tall, and they didn't eat people... they were our allies. The threat to us is an army of the Dead and the White Walkers who raised them.

It's hard to fight something like that when nobody believes you.

[trample]

"You really think so?" Eren sighed pleasantly, leaning back now instead of being hunched over his own legs. "That's a relief. Think that's the first time anyone's ever got how I felt like that."

The stern face he had been wearing loosened up, just thinking back on the events that had led up to his decision to fight. It was a simple thing. The sort of story you'd hear from any orphan of war. But since they were a dime a dozen, it hardly mattered to anyone how badly they desired to take the fight to the enemy, instead of quivering in ones' own boots.

"It's really quite a farce, isn't it? The way people will do anything to avoid fighting an enemy that wants them dead. Even if that terror's staring them dead in the eyes, they still wanted not to stand fast, but to flee further into their hidey-holes."

After a moment of silence, Eren's curiosity got the better of him.

"Tell me, what were your enemies like? If you can bear to describe them. They sound heaps more interesting than what I have to say."

[northerndragon]

[When Eren calls it a farce, Jon nods. So many people have refused to believe in what's coming. They prefer to hang on to their old hatreds and their territorial disputes and their wars waged over a throne that will mean nothing if all of its subjects are dead.]

They're cold. They come from the Lands of Always Winter -- the far north -- and they seem to bring winter with them. We call their leader The Night King, although I can't say what his name might truly be. I've seen him raise the dead, hundreds of them all at once with a gesture. I've seen him kill a dragon in the sky with a bolt of ice. I don't know how he can be killed... whether it's a simple matter of reaching him, or something more.

[He suspects the latter.]

The White Walkers are his lieutenants. They look like shriveled frozen corpses. Each one seems to control a certain number of wights -- I'll get to those in a minute. They are strong and ferocious fighters, and hard to kill... dragonglass will do it, Valyrian steel will do it, but there isn't much of the steel around anymore. Their cold shatters ordinary weapons.

If they were only a small band, they would be a fearsome enemy, but I would like our chances. They're an army. Whoever they kill joins their ranks unless the body is burned. Those are the wights, and it takes fire or dragonglass to kill them. Or the death of the White Walker controlling them, but we only just learned that.

[He shakes his head in dismay: this has been a problem mounting for a very long time.]

I've done what I can, but they're so hard to kill, and it's so easy for them to replenish their numbers.

[trample]

Eren listened intently and found that such fantastical stories are to his liking. He would have loved this sort of tale as a kid -- in fact, he was just about certain that it would have been his favorite. After all, for every grand enemy, there was a hero to bring him down. But the more he listened, the more his age, his experience, and his grief grounded his thoughts further into reality.

"Terrifying, truly," he said, nodding in agreement from the bottom of his heart. "It might be presumptuous of me to say this, but I know how you feel. An insurmountable enemy, more like a force of nature than anything else. Their numbers seemed implacable. We spent decades refining techniques to cut them down, entire generations of children-turned-soldiers were lost in doing so. And, tragic as it might sound, wasn't enough."

Mulling it over was just making Eren feel gloomy. Like the two of them were simply brooding over what couldn't be helped -- he would have loved to say "to hell with that, it most certainly can be helped," but with the way things were now, and how they were separated from their homelands by a stretch of time incomprehensible to either of them, there truly was little to be done. The most they could do was share their war stories.

"But I must say, they were never as intelligent as you're making these pests seem. Some were abnormal in their actions -- those were real pains to fight -- but never intelligent. Except for..." He thought of the traitor trio. "A spare few. You said your enemies could only be killed with a special materiel? Well, ours were only brought down by precise technique. Otherwise they'd be picking themselves back up just about immediately no matter how badly you mutilated them."

He tapped the back of his neck with his crutch, then made a slicing motion which ended with a quick, if pained, smile.

"One meter long, ten centimeters wide. Oh, that's about a yard and four inches, respectively. Cut that spot on the back of their gigantic necks and they'd go down. After all," he hid his face behind a hand. "That's where the human was."