agogemod: (Default)
⌞THE AGOGE⌝ MODS ([personal profile] agogemod) wrote in [community profile] agogelogs2017-10-07 12:21 am

THERE WERE MASTERS AND SERVANTS,

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.




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.




northerndragon: (are we out of barrels of pitch)

[personal profile] northerndragon 2017-10-22 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
I'll try. It takes a while to learn to use them well... and I'd rather you had a spear and a shield. They can use those things they call guns to shoot something like metal arrows with no shaft, and with the blade on the end, the guns themselves are like spears. If you can, you should stay well out of the range of them.

[Only luck had saved him from the volleys of arrows the Bolton forces had shot when he had battled them to retake Winterfell; enough men around him had fallen, even as he was speaking to them. And these bullets seem more lethal than arrows, if also more complicated to use. With no shaft, the point can bury itself deep in a wound. The whole thing seems to him like a pyromancer's trick. The combination of a gun and a spear makes him uneasy enough that he's relieved to have a pike himself: something to keep the blade end at a distance.

He knows Daenerys has killed, which makes this easier... but likely not with her own hands, which does not.]


Fight to end the fight quickly. Stab them before they stab you.

As to COST, we don't know enough about these people to know whether it's better that they should win or that they should lose. [After a brief hesitation, he allows,] If they were to lose, there would be reprisals.
dorzalta: (Default)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-10-25 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A spear and a shield? She understands his rationale behind it, but carrying both in battle would provide further difficulties. If someone far more experienced were to decide to fell her, neither a shield nor a dagger would save her. The shield would help, of course, but it would also hinder. ]

I've seen a man, one who also claims to have been in Jerusalem, with one of these guns. It reminds me of a portable cannon.

[ His advice earns him an arched brow. Not quite an arch look in reprimand, but there's certainly a no, really? to her expression. One which soon settles into something grimmer as she goes to tuck the blade back into her boot. ]

There will always be consequences to face. One could just as easily spin me and mine as the enemy in this scenario. Were it Cersei, she undoubtedly would. [ Rearranging her skirts, she straightens, studying him. ] It doesn't sit well with me, following the commands of our kidnappers like a sheep.
northerndragon: (nobody did)

[personal profile] northerndragon 2017-10-26 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
[He catches the look, if not exactly the thought behind it, and he gives her a similar look in return, but one with a little more patience in it.]

A shield isn't only a shield: if you know how to use it, it's a weapon on its own. Even so, I can't say it would do anything against these guns unless you used it to knock one out of a man's hands.

[The cannons seem to him like seige engines: something you could use to bring down a wall, though maybe not the Wall. He's never seen a weapon at home, not even a foreign one, that was too far from familiar for him, except maybe the dragons... and those are living creatures. Now, it seems to him that men are ever inventing new ways to kill each other.

As it turns out, his thought of the Wall sits well alongside the next thing she says.]


No, I suppose it wouldn't. But I was a captive once... of the Wildlings. I was under orders from the Watch to do as they told me to do.

[This is clearly the beginning of a tale, and he's not sure exactly how much of it he's going to tell her. His tongue shies away from the things that were more important to him than to this line of discussion.]

Whatever they told me to do, to prove I was a turncloak.
dorzalta: (pic#11766604)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-10-29 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Her initial reaction to his suggestion is to scoff and say she is not one of her Unsullied; however, he has a point. She is not a queen here, and does not have the means of protection she once had. To suddenly behave haughtily is a disservice to them both, especially when he shows willingness to teach her.

So instead she nods her head. ]
There may be a time where I have no luxury of choosing. Are they heavy?

[ He speaks of his time of capture and she doesn't interrupt, her attention rapt as he describes a similar scenario to this, in some ways. They both started in weaker positions when with the Wildlings and Dothraki. France is no different, in some ways.

His emphasis on what was expected of him to prove his loyalties, however... ]


Just how much were you expected to do to prove yourself?
northerndragon: (are we out of barrels of pitch)

[personal profile] northerndragon 2017-10-30 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
More and less than COST has asked for. Crows -- men of the Watch -- have vows, and to know that you've turned, the Free Folk would see them broken. I had to kill a Ranger, a man I respected... the first man I ever killed, but I did it on his own orders, so the Wildlings wouldn't kill both of us. Then there were other things [(he speaks carefully here)], to live like one of them. I climbed the Wall with a Wildling girl. I met and followed their king. I saw what the White Walkers were doing... spirals like we saw in the cave on Dragonstone, only made of parts of dead horses.

I drew the line at the next killing... he was an innocent man, he raised horses for the Watch... and I was able to escape and find my way back to Castle Black.

[With three arrows in him, because he'd done more with a Wildling girl than just climbing a wall of ice.]

COST wants more deaths, but battle and murder are different things. Soldiers know what they're about.

As to a shield or a buckler, aye, they're heavy enough when you're not used to them. Your arms get stronger in time.
dorzalta: (pic#11766586)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-11-13 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[ This is a side to him she's never known. A side he's not once spoken of in all the months at Dragonstone. Does it pain him to recount these moments? He's lived through far more than she'd ever given him credit, title of bastard notwithstanding. ]

They would see to all of them broken? [ She's no full grasp of what a man of the Watch is expected to swear by, but she's an idea. Why else would men willingly live on the outskirts of what the Westerosi deemed civilization? And what use would Wildlings have, if not to break their enemies in the process? It would be what a Dothraki does--take that which man finds sacred, such as one's braid, and destroy it.

Jon is not broken. He makes mention of a girl, a king, the dead, and she thinks there are details he intentionally leaves out. Details that--what? Will skew her image of him? Further prove his point? Was there not a man, a king, and a witch for her? ]
We do what we must to survive--even if those things one day cause us regret. You and I both wear blood on our hands, and we'll bathe in more before we leave this place for the next.

I don't want to. And however strong you may be after what you've survived, I know you do not, either. These things you've seen and done, they haven't turned you to ice.

[ The boy died in the snow; the girl died in the fire... and both were surrounded by their 'savages.' ]

If you look back... [ She ducks her head, shakes it, meets his gaze again. ] Would you kill that man now if COST demanded it? The one who raised horses?
northerndragon: (as it always will)

[personal profile] northerndragon 2017-11-14 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
The Wildlings would see every man living free of constraints, but the Watch has its vows for a reason -- to cut anything away from a man that might divide his loyalties, that might make him forget his duty. Its purpose was never to protect the realm from the Wildlings: people forgot that. It was to protect them from the Army of the Dead.

[A heavy sigh, but one with no exasperation in it. She's right that there's blood on his hands: most of the men he's killed were already dead, but not all of them, not by any means. It may have been justice, or it may have been self-defence, but nonetheless, they are dead and he is not.

He doesn't look away from her.]


I'd never kill that man, if he were only a man who raised horses near the Wall. Would you kill him if he were a Regency spy -- or an assassin working for Robert Baratheon? The situations aren't the same. It was more as if the Regency wanted him dead because he might warn COST of their plans. If COST wanted him dead because he might warn the Regency of their plans... well, it still wouldn't be the same. I don't know who's right.

But I know that you are... I haven't turned to ice.

[And there's a strange pleasure in hearing her say that, knowing that she understands it... that even if there had been times when he'd tried to turn himself to ice, it had never worked.]
Edited 2017-11-14 01:48 (UTC)
dorzalta: (pic#11766604)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-11-17 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ To cut anything away from a man that might divide his loyalties, that might make him forget his duty.

Something shifts in her gaze, a flicker of understanding. He's not one to stray from his beliefs, not when they've settled deep within his bones. He's stubborn, causing her nothing but headache in the face of his resistance to her claim. I understand, her look says. Not merely that they forced him to do things he'd never dream of in other circumstances, but also that he's survived things during this period. Things which would break another.

Each time they speak, she grows more and more convinced they are more alike than different. ]


You're no longer of the Watch; you're King in the North. The only one, I imagine, who would deem it necessary to continue their duty.

[ She inclines her head at his distinction, acceding to his point. ]

The assassin was killed. [ Much like he maintains eye contact, so does she. The moment earlier, where quiet understanding softened her--it's gone in the face of ferocity. ] COST, the Regency... it's the Great Houses all over again, you realize that? Neither are my House, neither have earned my loyalty. I would offer mercy to those who are innocent. Those who would harm me and mine-- [ The way she inclines her head suggests he is included in that claim. ] --will die screaming.

[ That is black and white in her mind. There is she, there are hers, and no matter what lands she stood on, she would protect them. The threat may be direct or indirect, with, against, or not with COST at all, but it would be eliminated. ]

You haven't. We've that much in common, wanting to protect our people. Someone colder would be more invested in self interests.
northerndragon: and now my watch begins (night gathers)

[personal profile] northerndragon 2017-11-23 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
[He can't disagree with her about the Great Houses. Her priorities are different than his, and he thinks many of the lines she draws are harder and straighter.]

Aye, well, someone colder would be dead. If the Boltons still held the North, the North would be doomed, and Ramsay Bolton with it, and the doom would go as far South as South goes.

[But it's interesting to him, and a little bit puzzling, that she seems to include him when she thinks of what is hers.]

Either way, you have the right of it: I'm no longer of the Watch. I know where my duty and my loyalty are. The vows don't matter to me [(he says this with slight emphasis)]... all that matters is the goals they're meant to accomplish. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men."

[Lips pressed together, he looks at her.]
Edited 2017-11-23 02:44 (UTC)
dorzalta: (pic#11766568)

[personal profile] dorzalta 2017-11-23 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ Word travels, even to a young queen an ocean away. What rumor suggested, Varys confirmed or denied, until even she was aware of how unfit the Boltons were to hold anything, least of all the North. The way Jon makes mention of it, however, suggests there's more to that story than she realizes. ]

If a Bolton held the North by the time of my arrival, I imagine there would be no Warden to speak of.

[ Dany says this unflinchingly, and she remains that way even in the face of Jon's proclamation that those vows matter not to him. But those words, they have an effect: the flood of adrenaline, the pounding of a drumming song in her ears, even the sudden drying of her throat.

She's not daft enough to miss his meaning.

She's also not quite sure what to make of that emphasis, yet. Why tell her this? Wasn't it hours ago that he'd hesitated in the face of advising her? ]


I imagine the vows are for lesser men. And I would hardly say you're the sort to become distracted, or to find his loyalties split between two causes.
northerndragon: produced for only one year and ambiguously replaced by warden of the north edition (jon snow: king in the north edition)

[personal profile] northerndragon 2017-11-23 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
[He half-chuckles. Bolton had angered him as much as or more than any other man had ever angered him -- more even than Ser Alliser. And Bolton had lit the corpses of flayed men on fire at the battlefield, to intimidate Jon's army.

A part of him thinks it would have been satisfying to see Bolton lose to a very large dragon, though maybe not as much so as Bolton's eventual downfall had been. Either way, that particular monster had been erased from the map and the world and, soon enough, from memory.]


No, I don't suppose there would be.

The men of the Watch aren't lesser men -- they were my brothers. Every man there is equal. But my loyalties are firm.

They're with the living. All the living, even those I may have to fight later.

[He means Cersei; he means anyone he can make an ally out of, even temporarily.]