agogelogs | THE SKY WENT BLACK,

THE SKY WENT BLACK,

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

a. MAKE NEW FRIENDS.

[Midnighter's got some questions, like how the fuck he ended up here and how they managed to put more shit in his brain, how he apparently doesn't remember even more crap, and how he wants his stuff back. Really, they're more statements. It doesn't matter. The prospect of taking out his confused frustration on random strangers is appealing. Eventually, he takes the gear they're giving him and leaves the fucking tent. Of course he manages to find robes and a sash in all black. Wrapped around his head, the lower half of his face is almost entirely covered, and his eyes are difficult to see, shadowed in black fabric. It's not quite a leather cowl, but it'll do.]

[He's playing around with a large scimitar, balancing the sharp point on one calloused finger. He doesn't seem to have any difficulty making it stay pointing upward. There's only the tiniest bead of blood at his fingertip.]

Think this is neat, you should see my sword swallowing act.

b. COMBAT / STEALTH.

[He can be quiet if he wants to, but this entire situation is too ridiculous for him to abide by long on the side of common decency. These people are real. The fight computer registers all their reactions as genuine, unique, caught somewhere in that incredible spectrum of thought and feeling that make up normal people.]

[They're also all meideval assholes that Midnighter has precious little regard for. Silent as, uh, midnight, he stalks between the tents on the Crusader's side of camp, sword flashing in the moonlight. This is more snake-in-the-grass than mongoose-vs-cobra, but it's apparently for a good cause. Stress relief, of course.]

[He stalks out of one tent with blood on down his front, making his black robes shine in the pale light of the moon. He hears someone approach, and rushes forward, almost too fast to register to the human eye. He's not as fast as the Flash or Superman, no lie there, but he's still pretty fucking quick. He puts his sword to the throat of whoever was approaching.]

[His voice is deep and grim.] What's the password?

c. COMBAT.

[Midnighter does not, actually, know how to ride a horse, but it takes his fight computer about a hot minute to figure it out. Maybe, like, five minutes. A couple minutes. Whatever.]

[The short story is that he has a horse now. The long story involves a dead guy and a whole lot of blood, some of which is still staining the otherwise white destrier he's riding around on, screaming and charging it into knights. Amidst this bloody chaos, he sees someone lost in the crowd, perhaps fighting, perhaps fallen. He leans down from the saddle, and sweeps them onto the back of his horse (he's named it 'Shithead' because it smells like shit) with impressive strength.]

Destination? My rate is $4 a mile, FYI.

d. NETWORK.

[Eventually, he's gotta try this communicator thing out.]

>>@TRENTCOAT

@ALL a/s/l?

Edited 2017-09-16 08:34 (UTC)

[ Archers really aren't meant to be in the thick of it--that's kind of the point of a ranged weapon, after all: range. But the lines shifted suddenly, a charge breaking through, a flank sweeping around to meet them, and suddenly Kate went from a nice safe-ish distance with some time to choose her targets to right in the screaming, stinking, bloody center of things. She's picked up a sword off the ground, the long straight blade of a fallen Crusader, and is doing a pretty okay job fending off her immediate attackers, at least in the sense that she is still alive.

When she's suddenly swept up off the ground her first reaction is to lash out, and Midnighter will get a knee jammed into his ribs before she realizes he's very clearly not attacking her. And then even more surprising, that he must be out of place here, too. ]

Man, that surge pricing is a bitch. The high ground over there [ she points over his shoulder ] and step on it. I'll tip you twenty if you can get me there without dying.

[The fight computer in Midnighter's brain registers a couple things about this stranger in the breadth of moments: they're clearly physically fit, but unused to melee combat. They've got good aim with their sword, but they're no expert. They've seen combat, but not like this.]

[He's a sucker for an underdog. More than that, he suspects someone so oddly balanced, as far as skill is concerned, is from another time. Someone like him. Based on the information he's gleaned, the fight computer calculates a likelihood of 47% that they're from some future time, with an addendum that 'more data is needed' to make an accurate estimation.]

[So he scoops his poor fellow soldier up onto the back of Shithead and asks her a question only someone from another time would catch. Her answer makes the fight computer tell him something he already knows: Probability of this person being a time traveler is 100%.]

[His grin glints out from under the dark fabric swaddling his face.] Anything for an extra buck. You'll have to excuse the bumpy ride; I only learned how ten minutes ago. Heyah! [He redirects Shithead, crushing some poor footsoldier underfoot as he goes. Was that person on their side? Does he really, genuinely care? Signs point to no. He pulls out his scimitar and drives the horse on one-handed.]

You better have good aim, kid.

[ Excuse, fight computer, Kate is excellent at melee combat. Just-- yeah, nothing like this. At all. Who the hell wears armor like this and jesus f. christ medieval swords are big and heavy and oh my god why do there have to be so many horses??? ]

[ Kate's untangling herself from the bow slung across her back, which is no small feat in itself given how many pieces of cloth and bits of metal and leather there are for it to get stuck on and the fact that she's holding on tight with her knees and one hand gripped white-knuckle-tight in the hem of Midnighter's cuirass as they charge through the field. Still, she has time to scoff, loud enough to be heard through veils and stuff. ]

Good aim? I've got aim in spades. Buckets of aim, scads of aim. Aim is my middle name, and... yeah, I'm good, okay? I'm real, real good, I promise. Hey, is that stupidly big banner there probably the crusader king?

midnighter | dc (rebirth) | ota.

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