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Post by Riva Harel on Apr 18, 2015 20:42:16 GMT -6
The Etrurian/Ilian border, just north of the mountains, southwest of the river
It was time. It had been over a month of border patrolling duties for Riva’s main battalion, but as Riva exited High Commander Willam’s tent she couldn’t help but be thrilled to have new marching orders. She always served no matter what the task, but knowing that she now could do so to the best of her abilities enthralled the high officer. For weeks now other battalions had been rallying with Riva’s, until six in total sat stationed and ready for orders. But none had come for the 4,000 strong until now.
Riva walked swiftly to her low officer’s tent, past the idling men in their row of tents, who quickly straightened up to salute as she passed. The Etrurian would usually stop to return the salutes, but time was short. Their marching orders required planning, but they were given a mere 24 hours to plan their move. Not impossible, but they would need to be smart and thorough to ensure victory for Etruria. Failure wouldn’t be an option for the retinue, considering the importance of the task they had been given.
Arriving in front of the brown tent belonging to Low Officer Urban, Riva flung the tentflap open to find the man dead asleep. For Elimine’s sake, it was at least an hour past sunrise! Riva had been awake since the new day had begun peeking over the horizon. So with no regard for the man’s privacy or comfort, the high officer walked to Urban’s cot, flinging his thin cotton blanket off and shaking his shirtless arm.
“Rise and shine, Officer Urban, a new day brings new Light that cannot be wasted!” She shook him until she saw his bloodshot eyes snap open, causing the tired man to sit up quickly and flatten down his messed hair.
“Must have overslept the wake-up call, ma’am, apologies,” the man mumbled as Riva straightened up, walking to the corner of the man’s tent where a small stool sat, covered with the man’s shirt. She grabbed the shirt, throwing it back at him as she sat on the stool.
Riva smiled. “No time for apologies, Officer. Remember how we thought we were being set up for a new assignment?”
Urban nodded as he pulled his shirt on, his fingers slowly working on his buttons. “Of course. No other reason to have four-thousand men stationed at the border like this.”
The woman’s smile widened as Urban looked away from his shirt to her for a moment. “Well, Commander Willam just gave us our marching orders. I need you to gather the other officers and the head medic in the officers’ tent. Once you do, clear the map table but leave the border map rolled out.”
Urban stood; while his eyes were still bloodshot, they were alight with curiosity. “How long do I have?”
Riva stood from the stool. “One hour max, but as soon as possible is preferred; there's a lot to discuss. Understand?”
Urban smiled, saluting after he straightened one of his shirt cuffs. “Yes ma’am.”
Riva saluted back, exiting the tent with Urban just behind her. He instantly jogged off to begin rallying the officers, but Riva turned the other direction, towards one of the areas where the off-duty officers would spend their time relaxing and socializing. The officer only assumed her aide, Freya, would be there, and Riva wanted to ensure the girl was at the officer’s meeting. There would be an awful lot to discuss, so someone to take notes would be crucial to their success. But with the camp having grown as much as it had in the past month, it was a bit more challenging that usual to find who she needed with all of the extra bodies and seemingly endless rows of tents composing the camp. How to find the young troubadour...
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Post by Remus on Apr 20, 2015 20:15:49 GMT -6
Remus stood within one of the large tents set up for the assembled healers. Through out there were large sheets laid out and mock tables with charts drawn out upon them. Some were set up with other priests and clerics around them examining them. Occasionally a more ornately robbed individual was standing at the tables guiding or instructing others as they went over various scenarios for healing. Remus wasn't adept enough yet to teach others intricate aspects of healing; atleast he didn't consider himself. The bishop in charge of the medical unit however had believed otherwise. For there he was leaning over a table with a chart of a human arm. It just had bits drawn to show bone and muscle. Remus gazed up to the two clerics and one priest near his tables as he helped point out the easiest ways to heal certain injuries while conserving the best energy they could.
It was ironic, because Remus could recall many of the times he had blown vast amounts of energy wantonly in the past to attempt to heal all around him. However those moments had taught him something. Now as he spoke to them, he found himself reiterating the crimson mage of the City of Heroes, Elias. "Remember. Most importantly, when healing do not over exert yourself. You're of no use to anyone if your unconscious. The time it takes for you to come to, and recover your energy is greater than if you were to simply take a rest. If at any point you fear for someone's health but do not have the energy to heal them come to a more experienced healer. Even if they are fatigued they are far more likely to successfully heal injures than any of you may be. As healers it is all to easy to wantonly heal to exhaustion, for fear of not contributing enough. Trust me though..allow your brothers and sisters of the stave to manage where you can not. Should you falter we are here to help you up. Keep that in mind and you'll be good to g- "
He was cut off as a man who called himself Urban entered the tent. The man looked exhausted; yet equally energetic or full of life. An odd duality. He spoke abruptly of needing to see the head healer. Remus shifted his hands a bit as he looked to the man with a hand upon his staff. "I'm afraid he's gone at the moment. He said he had matters to attend to under the name of the church. I've been left to help run things with a few of the other older priests and bishops. Is there anything I can help with ser err..Urban?"
The man was abrupt as he directed Remus to another tent. He simply gruffly spoke as he exited the tent waiting for Remus. "You'll have to do I guess."
Remus was perplexed. For what? However he did not question the man, recalling the words of his sister and simply doing as he was told. He followed the man to a large tent, only to enter and see a table within the center. The priest, clad in blue and white robes clasped his staff in both hands as he looked to it. A map. Well, this certainly seemed like a meeting of sorts. Why would he be needed though? Remus couldn't be sure; but simply gazed about with a slight strand of worry dangling in the back of his mind. He was to wait for the High Officer; or so he was informed. So wait he did, shifting his weight a bit and gazing to the map curiously.
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Freya Brünhild
Troubadour
It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!
Posts: 23
Profession: Cleric
Affiliation: Inquisitional Army
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Freya
OoC Alias: Synkkis
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Post by Freya Brünhild on Apr 20, 2015 21:08:18 GMT -6
The Etrurian Army in and around the fort had increased to insane amounts during the past two weeks. While it helped with the shared burden of tasks, it created new ones and the young aide noticed that the energy in the camps changed dramatically. People buzzed around with a lot of purpose until she just couldn't keep track of people anymore. Still, the aide de camp of the High Officer was now showing its true importance. She herself had been buzzing around directing people and helping just about everyone. Many times Ms. Harel would send her to do important stuff just because she couldn't be in two places at once. She walked just about everywhere as there really wasn't much riding in camp for obvious reasons.
It was mid-morning now when Riva was called for a staff meeting and the Troubadour was generally left to her own devices for once. Which meant she was busy with catch up. All the "round-to-it's" and "Honey, do's" had to be done. Inside Riva's tent first and foremost, the blonde girl set out her commander's rug, laying it on the support rope just out front and beating the dust and dirt out of it with her staff. Yeah, not the best thing, but if it worked, it worked! Looking up, she saw a fat, bald priest in robes shaking his head and she could've swore she saw a single tear fall from his eye. What! It's not like it was sacreligious or something! Had the guy never seen a staff put together before? They are pretty durable physically! What, no... he just crossed his arms. So judgemental! Didn't he have two slabs of rock to summon or something? Here she was being super productive and he's got nothing better to do than judge her actions like an armchair rug-beater. She'd have to be careful to be a lot more undercover when it came to the wholly natural process of being clean!
The negative waves got to her or something, but she slinked back into Riva's tent with the rug and set it back. Wanting to escape, she crawled under the other side like someone from the Western Isles. Actually, that was pretty badass. Behind the walls of tents, she jumped over and under stakes and lines, acting like they were landmines and beams of light that'd burn her.
Jumping through to the end of the line, she finished with an action roll and tossed her healing staff - which may or may not have glanced off the back of her High Officer's left calf. The expression, without a doubt was as if she had just stabbed Gertrude on accident. (゚д゚)
"H-High Officer Harel! Ma'am! You will not believe it, but - you had the BIGGEST spider on your leg! Your life is safe in my hands! Yes!" she nervously reported, rushing to retrieve her staff to spare her another second of embarassment.
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Post by Riva Harel on Apr 21, 2015 11:51:45 GMT -6
Well, RIva didn't need to search very far or long for Freya, as it seemed the young lady would find the high officer on her own. As soon as she felt the staff hit the back of her calf, Riva breathed in quickly, her teeth gritted as her left knee raised her leg from the ground, her right hand grabbing the now sore spot while her left hand grabbed her shin to keep her balance. She didn’t cry out, but damn, that had hurt!
After a second Riva looked back to see a very mortified-looking Freya. The high officer sighed; while the peppy girl’s antics could be endearing, there was always a time and place. Practicing staff tossing - was that even a thing? - would have made much more sense to do in the training or sparring areas, not amidst the tents where Officers and potentially the Commander could be walking through.
Unfortunately, Riva didn’t see it as the right time to have that conversation, considering they had very little time to have their meeting. Lowering her foot to the ground, she brushed off her thigh, straightening her officer’s jacket with a shake of her head.
“I appreciate the concern, but next time, you are more than welcome to shout me a warning instead of throwing one at me.” Riva smiled briefly, though it quickly faded as she waved for her aide-de-camp to follow her.
“We’ve got an important meeting to run, Miss Brunhild, so we mustn’t dally.”
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There hadn’t been much more discussion between the two women on their walk to the officer’s tent besides idle chatter, Riva not wanting to say too much on the meeting until prying ears weren’t around. The soldiers would be moving out soon enough, so she didn’t need them getting anxious and gossiping prior to their officers handing down their marching orders.
Riva pushed open the tent, ushering Freya in before walking directly to the map table. As she’d requested, Urban had cleaned the map off, while leaving the border map rolled out. A few officers were still trickling in, so Riva took the opportunity to walk to the rolled up maps that were stacked in their containers, finding a particular one she wanted to have displayed alongside the border map. Pulling it from its case, she walked back over to the table and began taking a preliminary headcount.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen, including herself. Everyone was there, which meant they could begin. A light conversation had begun between a few of the officers, but everything quieted as soon as Riva looked over them, her gaze and posture over the map showing she was ready to begin.
“Thank you for leaving your duties so quickly to take part in this meeting,” Riva began, wanting to show her gratitude for their attendance. Not that they had much of a choice, but it was the polite thing to do.
“This morning I had a meeting with Commander Willam, who has imparted our marching orders, which I’m sure everyone will be glad to hear. I’m sure your men and women are growing restless just as Urban and myself’s have.”
Riva picked up a marker, sticking it in a place on the map, downriver of the river that created the Etrurian/Ilian border. “As you know, we are here right now. Per our orders, we have one week to move the troops to,” picking up another marker, Riva placed it where the river met the bay that emptied into the ocean, “here.”
No one had spoken up yet, which was good so far, the low officers taking notes as the other high officers in the room looked over the map. “Along the way, we do have a few objectives. We will need scouts from every battalion to feel out the road ahead, and we’ll also need at least two squads from each battalion to volunteer to cross the border and begin shutting down the northern trade routes.”
Ah, there was the buzz she expected, but as she wasn’t finished, Riva continued, her voice rising slightly. “We can discuss some along the way, but once we reach our destination,” she paused, looking around the table, grabbing the map she’d taken and unrolling it, revealing a city map of Remi, Ilia, “we’ll begin our move north, where our orders are to occupy Remi. We’re to move out of here and march north in 24 hours. Questions?”
Her opening the floor caused the tent to burst into life, questions flying from every high officer as quickly as she’d asked. Riva wasn’t surprised, considering she’d oversimplified the plan, but she’d done so to get the other officers talking. They didn’t need a full week to make the journey north, so she hoped to hear ideas of other objectives they could achieve on the way north, in order to secure Etruria’s victory. A siege on Ilia while they threw their forces at Bern was a brilliant move, and Riva wanted to ensure they would succeed.
[OOC: You guys feel free to control officers in the room, figured this would be a good way to keep the discourse going between all three of us; there are 5 low and 5 high officers, not counting Riva and her low officer Urban]
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Post by Remus on Apr 22, 2015 19:15:36 GMT -6
Remus felt out of place being around military individuals. With his staff lightly clutched in both hands he gazed around periodically to observe the other beings within the room. The woman commanding them all however started speaking mere moments after this started; drawing the gaze of the blue haired Priest while she did. He didn't know the exact layout of Ilia well, nor the significance of the city in particular. Then again he wasn't a grand strategist either, and had absolutely no experience in matters of war. Save for the brief week he spent in the City of Heroes trying to heal the wounded and tend to their injuries. Though while she spoke, he gazed quietly at the path between their location at the Etrurian border and the distance they'd have to travel. A few small towns along the way; but even once they occupied the city he could already assume a few hazards. That was his job. Remus wasn't talented at fighting, nor was he able to command soldiers. His sole concern was preserving the lives of those fighting(and the innocents) to the best of his knowledge. However as Riva opened the room for questions almost everyone began to speak in various volumes.
Remus felt a tug of concern. He wasn't a naturally assertive person, nor did he inspire a commanding presence. However he had a tool within his hands that perhaps he could use to get attention. Remus attempted to speak up at first just to be sure.
"Excuse me. "
No one stopped talking over one another.
This time, Remus tapped his staff against the tip of a pole within the ground supporting the tent that he'd been standing near. The sharp sound of the staff hitting it was enough to draw a few people's attentions however; enough voices quiet for him to be heard and to quiet the others.
"Excuse me. "
Eyes upon him. Oh why had he thought to speak out? He shouldn't be here. He wasn't even beyond just the priest following around with the head of the medical unit as a glorified back up healer. However it was best to speak up now that he had their attention. A gruff tone encouraged him, none too gently either.
"Speak up boy if your gunna grab our ear. Otherwise your wastein' breath."
Ah. Well..what better encouragement? Remus sighed a bit before shifting his poise and standing up straighter with his staff supporting his weight as he leaned onto it a bit. He cleared his throat and spoke as clearly as possible.
"Yes well...speaking for the Head of the Healing unit, as he could not be here..our express goal is the preservation of our soldiers yes? I've been given the rare opportunity to have visited Ilia. I've stayed within a few small towns, and I already see a possible danger. When you think of Ilia, a few things come right to mind. Snow. Pegasus Knights, and Mercenaries yes? Well, the biggest thing here is the Mercenaries. While their likely to have hired a fair number during their conflict with the Bern Rebellion, Sellswording and Hired muscle type jobs are one of the most common forms of Employment in Ilia. It isn't just the soldiers that pose a threat. I'd hazard that in some towns a majority are fighters by trade. "
Standing up to approach the table, Remus extended a finger to point to the small dots of towns along the way, even their target town as if following a trail with his finger.
"Any town we attempt to occupy, we run the chance of greater numbers being sell-swords. While that is obviously not a deterrent for such a gathered force or host as there is here, it does warrant concern. I've...seen..first hand Ilian sellswords that I had taken for normal people who could move faster than I could follow, or had unexpected skills with hidden blades. I mention this simply to draw light to the fact that any town we occupy..there poses a special type of danger. That at any moment there is the potential for individuals posing a threat. While some of you, and likely more than not, will have better solutions than I who is but a priest; two solutions come to mind immediately. "
He paused for a moment, standing back up and shifting his weight to his left leg as he went back to resting his hand on his staff. It was easier to talk when he had something to focus on. A topic to focus on even.
" The first is that, in these smaller towns upon which we occupy we offer wages to mercenaries to assist in enforcing our hold. This would put less of our own men at risk, while also giving an outlet for the mercenaries to focus on. It might even reduce the chance of retaliation if it's other Ilians patrolling. However there is no certainty. The second one would be financially easier but more of a hazard. Obviously as we occupy smaller towns we can not simply leave them to their own devices and move on. They could assist in retaliations to our rear as we advance. I would suggest as we advance leaving a small number of healers behind in the event that any are injured, they can be tended to swiftly. Until we reach our destination the fighting will..atleast I'd assume..be less severe given the suddenness of our approach and size. This would mean less size for the medical unit when we reach our destination but a more secure and stable path behind us. "
After a brief pause he looked up quietly to gaze at the others around the room.
"As I said. I'm no soldier so I've no idea of war, or even if it would work as I think it would. I am simply speaking out of concern for, and prioritizing the safety of the soldiers. "
Internally he had cringed the entire time. Speaking of occupational forces, and exploiting Ilian Mercenaries. Hopefully Elimine could forgive him for so willingly sanctioning out human life...however he had spent some small time attempting to focus on the mindset and mannerisms of one within the inquisition. After all, his sister had pointed out that if he did not conceal his disagreeing perspectives then he'd be placing himself in great danger.
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Post by Kurtis Weldon on Apr 27, 2015 20:05:19 GMT -6
Kurtis, among the many other soldiers within the area, was just standing idle for the time being. The plan to go into action wasn't established among the troops yet, leaving some restless about the situation. Kurtis himself wasn't too anxious, but he couldn't help but be a little bit concerned about what was going to happen next. As Kurtis moves to look the equipment in his tent, he is approached by a soldier with similar stature to him.
"Hey, you don't seem too busy at the moment. Mind taking a moment to just talk for a bit?" The young soldier scratches the back of his neck, waiting for a reply as he looks up and down Kurtis in an attempt to find anything interesting about him.
Kurtis turns his attention to the young soldier, nodding his head slowly and lets the conversation flow to the other male's advantage. He didn't like talking, but he didn't have any incentive to decline talking to him either. Well, as long as he continues asking yes or no questions, Kurtis should be fine.
The young soldier introduces himself as Edwards, and he begins asking questions regarding Kurtis' origins. Kurtis remains silent throughout the conversation, only answering when presented with a question he can nod or shake his head to, leaving the soldier Edwards a little frustrated from the lack of engagement from his partner."Geez, you're really not talkative are you? It's difficult to have a conversation if you're really doing anything except shake your head you know."
Edwards sighs, shaking his head and understanding the conditions of the "conversation" they're having."So...you've surely heard about what's coming next right? Edwards begins whispering to Kurtis, "I'm a little uneasy about this whole thing...is it really the right thing to do?" The boy's resolve in fighting was oddly low, and having him killed for just being a little unsure would leave him guilty if word went out.
Kurtis ponders for a moment, looking towards the sky. He believed in St. Elmine, but he wasn't the most devout follower either. He lowers his head to face the young soldier, answering in a low voice, "...Fighting for your nation is your duty as a soldier. If that's still difficult to believe in, think of someone that you should defend at all costs." It was a rather cliche answer, but it was the best thing he could think of in this short amount of time.
Suddenly beaming with a more brighter face, Edwards replies with enthusiasm, "Y-Yeah, you're right. It was my mistake to think of fighting any less than that. Thanks...for reminding me." The young soldier begins to walk off, his posture more straight and letting off a confident air around him now that he had his little pep talk. Youth, they sure do take things in really easily don't they?
Kurtis takes one last look towards Edwards leaving before moving to check on his equipment at his tent, that was a rather odd encounter in his life. All he could do now was wait for the officer's meeting to finish before he could make a final decision about what the future would hold. It's his duty to follow orders and fight for the well being of of Etruria, nothing more or less, his personal feelings would have to stay out of this matter.
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Post by Riva Harel on May 2, 2015 9:06:18 GMT -6
While Riva wasn’t as methodical and calculated as her late husband, the officer always had a reason for the things she did. So as she stayed silent, listening to the suggestions and, frankly, unimaginative plans a few of the other officers were mumbling under their breaths, Riva couldn’t help but be disappointed. The point of this was to harbor a discussion, between the men and women who were supposed to be able to lead 4,000+ men into battle. Instead, she head leaders who had grown complacent, comfortable, and unable to collaborate like they had back in the days of the assault on Ostia.
But then, a small voice broke the chatter. She was unfamiliar with the priest who stood at the table with them, but after hearing his introduction, Riva’s attention was 100% on him. She ignored High Officer Hawthorne’s rude encouragement. Frankly the man was insufferable down to his core, but no one could doubt his dedication or military genius. He was just rude and kept his inner circle small.
Riva smiled as the young man continued, his insight the most valuable of what she’d heard so far. He was entirely correct about the sell-swords, though they worried her less than the Ilian military themselves, which were scattered thanks to the Rebellion. Sell-swords, when approached with the concept of dying for a cause or without receiving their pay, were more likely to abandon their job than to keep fighting.
What she hadn’t considered, though, was Remus’s suggestion to seek out the mercenaries in the towns they passed through to occupy to enforce the hold. Offer the mercenaries or even town guard a hefty sum to keep the towns under lock and key. If they accepted, it meant less casualties for their retinue on their approach, and something of a guarantee of a quiet approach. If not, then they’d proceed as Riva planned, and ensure with force that no one would pass along word of their approach to Remi. The former was more preferable, though, and the funds were there to pay.
“A great idea...” Riva realized she didn’t know the man’s name yet but continued. There would be time for introductions later. Taking a few markers, she placed them along the same path Remus had traced. About seven in total on the Ilian side of the river, none of them larger than two or three hundred people in population according to their intel.
“Those town will be the ones targeted for the plan laid out by the Healing unit’s representative. The majority of the retinue will remain on the Etrurian side of the border, with a force of ~150 men moving through and securing the support of the mercenaries on the Ilian side. In each town, we’ll also leave a small squad of soldiers, plus one healer in order to assist in securing our hold. This way we not only have the mercenaries on our side, but also the security from having our own forces there to ensure their loyalty.”
“Well, whose battalion do you expect to pull squads from for this plan, Officer Harel?” Low Officer Mordecai from the southern patrol battalion chimed in. She was a sharp, older woman, hair gray and tightly knotted at the base of her head. She was renowned as one of the most brutal hand-to-hand combat specialists in the army, putting many of the younger men to shame. “You know better than anyone that each of our squads serves as a necessary cog in the wheel of the battalion. You remove even one and it changes formations, positioning...”
“With all due respect, Officer Mordecai,” Riva interrupted the woman who was almost 20 years her senior, “Since there are seven towns to pass through and 6 battalions total, each battalion will volunteer one squad each, with my battalion surrendering two. That way the loss of your men is minimal and manageable, and all of the battalions will incur the same challenges together.”
The low officer nodded, noting the addition to the plan within her notebook as the other low officers did. Riva, on the other hand, had eyes focused back on the map, looking for the next piece of their advance to discuss. Her hand moved back to the map, now hovering over another dot, this time on the Etrurian side of the river. “I assume everyone here is familiar with Fort Modlin? It’s a relic, but it’s overrun with bandits who could cause us further issues on our advance. Assuming we have no issues occupying the Ilian towns south of the range and southeast of Remi, once we approach the pass all that will stand between us and the town is the fort.”
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Post by Remus on May 14, 2015 6:30:27 GMT -6
Though he hid it behind a grateful smile and a nod; Remus was slightly taken aback. He'd never expected his suggestion to be taken to by the commanding officer so easily. It was a relief even. While they wouldn't realize it as his intent equally; this plan would save lives over all not just Etrurian. Less conflict, and less collateral damage. Hopefully atleast. This was still war they were going into. Wars within Elibe's history had a habit of shaking up the foundation greatly. His conversation with Nayru felt a bit more relevant as he thought back to her suggestions of becoming more involved. Actively trying to shape things. Could he do that here? Maybe he could. The Blue haired priest shifted his poise as he adjusted his weight to his other leg while leaning on his staff. He looked to the speaking older woman, who seemed to object with Riva's plan even while Riva asserted how it would be carried out.
Fort Modlin? He'd never heard of it personally. However he had a nagging feeling...that if he wanted to make a greater impact he'd have to see fighting more often. Be present on the battlefield more. He heard a voice speak up amongst the others. The same man who had snarled at him prior spoke up abruptly to shake the priests thoughts. The man was a grizzled looking creature; covered in dark black hair littered with ashen strands showing a developing age. The man certainly looked the part of an Ax toting monster with more hair on his forearms than his head practically.
"Since I doubt were wasting our entire force on a single fort; which unit will be given the pleasure of cleaning house on Modlin?"
The man Gazed to Riva with crossed arms though not in displeasure but a general air of disgruntled. This seemed like the type of man who frowned at things like kittens or new born children until they ceased to exist; and generally looked as if he disliked any existing thing which might provoke a smile or merriment from other humans. However he also harbored a sense of experience. As if most people in the room had to compare their greatest feats just to even out with his standard. Then again as Remus gazed to the high Officers, like Officer Hawthorne and Officer Harel he had a feeling most of them had outstanding accomplishments which would have filled the pages of a book alone. Were it not for the fact that he knew most in the tent had no aptitude for healing arts, he instantly would have felt unnecessary. Again however Remus felt a need to speak up. If this business of attacking a fort was true or even a group going in..they'd need support.
"Ah..um..Sorry to speak up but..if it's true that we are sending in soldiers to clear out said fort..I'd like to examine the composition of it if possible afterwords and lead a group of healers to support them. It seems like an important task so I'm sure that we'd want them being given the best chances possible to do so with minimized causalities. " He was like a mouse in a room of wolves. Or bears. Atleast he felt that way. However he forced himself to not withdraw and simply listen. Being proactive meant stepping out of his comfort zone. Regardless of the situation.
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Post by Alranus Aurilia on May 18, 2015 1:52:00 GMT -6
The morning sky was quite beautiful today. The sun shone down brightly through a clear blue sky, illuminating the grassy hills and verdant treetops that littered the Etrurian countryside. There was barely a cloud in the sky save for the occasional wisps of cirrus fluff. Small, sparkling streams cut their way through the greenery, adding a splash of blue to the otherwise monochromatic landscape. It was all very picturesque.
Unfortunately Low Officer Alranus Aurilia could not fully appreciate the gorgeous day. Two days ago he had gotten a summons from the Herald , calling him into service under High Officer Riva Harel to participate in half of a joint invasion of Ilia and Sacae. The news had been quite welcome after having to live through the shame of having the heretic Richter escape from the custody of his men not once, but twice, as it seemed that his work in Bern had been appreciated. At the very least the Herald possessed enough restored confidence in his abilities to place him back on the frontlines, if not under his own command.
But the welcome as the mission may have been, its notice had been very last minute, so as to make it to the war camp on time Alranus forced his riders to go almost nonstop the last twenty hours, stopping only once for an opportune feeding break as they had passed over a herd of wild elk. Even for soldier that was already a hard ride, and given that they had departed Taras at roughly ten in the morning it had been over twenty-four hours since most of them had slept. In the beginning it had seemed like a good idea, and Alranus still maintained that it had been the right call, but now he, his men, and the wyverns were all starting to grow visibly exhausted. At the moment the Low Officer was tired enough that he felt as if he could fall off of his wyvern at any second if he did not take specific care to not do so.
Alranus sighed, placing his hand over his eyes for a good long moment in a futile attempt to rub away the exhaustion, before looking back down towards the ground below them. As his hand left his face, long white rows of tents covering the far floodplains were revealed to the Low Officer. His heart lept a bit in his chest at the sight. That must be High Officer Harel’s mustering forces. By the Saint, there had to be at least 3,000 men in that camp, if not more! Not surprising, given the army’s intended purpose, but there was something to be said for seeing the whole war camp at a bird’s eye view. Truly the might of Etruria in action.
Most important, though, was that the sight of the war camp meant they had finally arrived, and with roughly twenty four hours to spare. Orders were hard to hear over thirty mile per hour winds, so Alranus simply raised his fist into the air, the signal to land. His second relayed the message to the other officers, who in turn relayed the message to the two hundred other riders that flew in concert. A troop of wyverns, one of Etruria’s few. Etruria was not Bern; the Prophet’s armies specialized in mage artillery rather than aerial combat, so it wasn’t often that the Inquisition called a full troop of wyverns into battle, but it had been decided that the air support would be instrumental in the event that Ilia brought in their pegasus squadrons to fight off High Officer Harel’s invasion.
It was a spectacular sight to behold as the each rider began to bank turn and descend upon the camp, spiraling downwards over the tents in a flurry of wings as they followed Alranus’s lead. The Low Officer guided his men towards an empty patch of plain away from the rest of the camp, and one by one each rider’s winged mount alit upon the ground. In quick, controlled motions the riders dismounted, and without command began removing their supplies from the backs of their beasts and setting up camp. Outwardly the organization and speed was impressive, but Alranus knew better. His men and their mounts would have just enough time to rest in preparation for the next leg of the march and attack, and the Low Officer knew they were eager to do so. He was himself, but unfortunately for him he would need to check in with the High Officer before he could do any sleeping.
With a few short orders, Alranus instructed his men to tend to his wyvern and set up his tent, then briskly walked off towards the main camp. As he strode around the tents he was greeted by many an interested glance, as many wanted to know just who this wyvern rider commander was. After all, it wasn’t often the average servant of the Inquisition spent time around soldiers of his ilk. Alranus simply greeted them with a high head and a confident walk. Of course he was still exhausted, but he wasn’t about to walk about a war camp looking like a ghoul. An extra dose of confidence help counteract his tiredness.
The Low Officer stopped once for directions, then finally made his way to the planning tent. As he approached the door flap, he could hear the muted articulations of a conversation going on inside. The guard outside the tent claimed they was a war meeting going on inside. The proper soldier in Alranus didn’t want to interupt, but he figured he best be present if the other officers were making plans for the combat that was to take place tomorrow. So he put on his best face and entered.
“Low Officer Alranus Aurilia of the 1st Inquisitional Wyvern Cavalry Troop, reporting in,” he announced with an Inquisitional salute as the thick tarp of the tent door flap closed behind him. “I apologize for my tardiness. I was not informed of my part in this operation until just yesterday morning.”
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Post by Riva Harel on May 20, 2015 12:11:17 GMT -6
Riva had expected Officer Hawthorne to chime in, as he’d already so eloquently done, and not to her surprise he started expressing similar concerns to those that Officer Mordecai had just voiced. She sighed, disappointed by the insular attitudes the senior officers had brought to the meeting. What was worse, was no one felt the need to speak up and correct the destructive way of thinking.
Readying herself to address Hawthorne’s brutish inquiry, the mousy healer spoke up again. If only the officers, with all their experience and knowledge, were in the mindset of at least trying to offer solutions as the representative for the healers was doing. He showed concern both for his own men and for those they were tasked with protecting, while the officers could do nothing but squabble and complain.
“I agree. Whoever’s unit,” Riva said, looking around to all of the present officers with a shake of her head, “volunteers to do so, they will have the full support of a squad of experienced healers, ready to assist and collaborate.”
Riva frowned. “Which is something I feel none of you are prepared to do,” she stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. “How long can you sit perched atop our victories and accomplishments, and in the comforts of your assigned border patrols before you remember the kind of corroboration which earned the Etrurian Inquisitional Army greatness? One battalion, one squad did not conquer Salvation Point, did not shake Lycia to its core by leveling Ostia. You would be foolish to believe only your battalion could do so, because not even I would wish my men to shoulder that task alone.”
The room was silent, allowing Riva to collect her thoughts for a moment as she leaned over the map again, looking down to the small piece that denoted the fort. Before she could speak, though, the tent flap opened, bringing in a stream of light which turned the room’s attention to the door. While introducing himself to the room had been necessary, Riva already knew who the man and his troop were. She’d been told the night previous of his Troop’s reassignment to her battalion for the invasion, and she’d taken the initiative to become familiar with the main points of his career to prepare for his arrival. It was impressive, to say the least, surviving a run-in with the traitorous Winter Lion and his dragon pet, with nothing more than the grizzled scar on half of his face to show for it.
But there would be another time to consider the man’s history. For now, Riva didn’t move, nodding at Alranus. “Glad you could make it, Officer Aurilia,” she said, “we were just discussing how the battalions could best work together in moving on Remi. Please, join us.”
Eyes glancing at the map momentarily, Riva sighed. “Now, if we feel taking the responsibility of taking the fort should rest in one battalion, my men would be more than willing to shoulder that.”
Officer Hawthorne huffed, slamming his fist on the table. “And you think my men aren’t? Take my best squad then, Officer Harel, they’re more than up to the task, and they could do it on their own!”
Riva smiled. “Your offer is appreciated. I’ll still send a squad of my men alongside yours, supported by the healers offered. I believe that should be sufficient for now, until we can get a better read of how many brigands are holed up in Modlin.”
“Now, what else?” Riva posed to the table, again trying to spur an open discourse. Their plan was a good one, tentatively, but for now they could at least get to the fort and prepare to take Remi. Still, she liked to hear from more than just a few of the officers in the tent to ensure everyone who wanted to contribute and collaborate could.
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Post by Remus on May 22, 2015 6:03:28 GMT -6
Remus watched, mentally a bit inspired by how High Officer Harel chastised the entire gathering of ranking officers. This was something he personally couldn't really comment on nor would he have had the right to. He was in a room with individuals who had seen one war likely if not more conflict. A single hand lifted and lightly combed through hair shaded like lapis-lazuli as he collected himself. Was there anything more he could contribute? He had to make sure he wasn't just spouting the first coherent thoughts that came to mind after all. "Contribute" did not mean blather on. This was when someone entered the room. He, like a few had visible scars of combat and to Remus was simply another shark..or lion..or wolf...or bear..or other ferocious animal to add to the den they were in..all of them to his being like a mouse. Usually his helpless feeling simply extended to his lack of mastery over combative magic. This entire meeting however had been him kicking himself over having almost no experience in general. Another voice caught his attention. A new one to Remus. However perhaps he wasn't the only one because as the man stepped forward and extended a hand towards the map more than one face looked to him with a searching gaze as if to identify the male.
The man wore visibly lighter armor. Small segments of chain mail visible beneath tightly bound light leather armor and an olive green cloak around his body with the hood cast down. Shaggy brown hair hung low around either side of his face and he had likely never lived by the term clean shaven looking at the facial hair stuck between phases of stubble and bush.
"The town's were taken aren't too bad..but once we get time for the fort to rest in our sights I can lead a small group of my men to scope it out. As some of you might know, others not I'm the newly promoted head of the Third Inquisitional Ranged Unit, Alexander Marcus. According to the map there's a fair bit of green around, not a forest but enough to make it easier for us to get in and out unnoticed. We can get back with numbers a fair bit so you two know your not walkin' your men into certain death. Especially if healers goin' in with em' since we've alot less of those than soldiers. "
Officer Marcus drew a semi-circle around the southern portion of the fort from where they would be approaching it from. He then took a moment to step back and cross his arms over his chest while he looked around the room waiting to hear either disagreement or consent. The man seemed very straightforward though. Not nearly as bad as High Officer of the Snarling Remus had the pleasure to interact with earlier.
Initially Remus wanted to suggest sending a healer along to this too. Until that was he took a moment to realize the foolishness of it and bit his tongue to save himself from looking a fool. A scouting party would be slowed down if they had a healer along, and a priest or cleric would be far harder to conceal. It was just bad strategy over all. So in this reguard Remus remained quiet and waited.
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Post by Alranus Aurilia on May 26, 2015 16:33:13 GMT -6
"Respectfully I would like to remind the High Officer that she has just come into the command of a whole troop of wyvern riders," spoke Low Officer Aurilia, drawing attention to himself in the wake of Alexander Marcus's inroduction. The blonde rubbed a wave of oncoming sleep out of his eyes, disguising it with a slight bow, but the pride that crept into his voice, the pride that made itself apparent whenever he discussed his wyverns, was hard to miss. "Instead of knocking politely on their front door, why not bring the full might of Etruria to bear on these cretinous outlaws?" Alranus covered a yawn, then leaned forward, placing a fist on the edge of the map table. "This is not an Ilian defense force we're discussing here. This is Modlin. That ruin is filled with scum who make a living preying on villagers and civilians, who only fight the ocasional Etrurian or Ilian patrol when they absolutely have to, and they are likely equipped to do little more than that." Alranus looked up at his fellow officers, mostly focusing on High Officer Harel, as a good bit of fire ignited within his breast, displaying itself through his facial expressions.
"It's highly doubtful that they are equipped with much more than the occasional missile weapon, and I would expect that those trained to use them are used to shooting a soft, fleeing targets." The Low Officer shook his head. "And that is to say nothing of magic. The calibur of mage that would end up in a rathole like Modlin is low, to say the least. Perhaps a trickster empty of morals, empty in wallet, and even emptier in talent?" He scoffed, knocking on the edge of the table once again. In Etruria, any mage with real talent could find far better work than banditry. "Nothing that could stop an armored wyvern and rider. I propose that after the scouts scope out the fort, we firebomb Modlin into submission." Alranus jabbed a dagger-like finger into the spot where Modlin was drawn upon the operations map. He tapped twice for emphasis, leaving his hand hovering over the map for a moment, then drew back and straightened himself, letting out another small yawn.
"I do not know what kind of resources that have been assigned to this invasion by the mage corps," Alranus admitted, continuing to speak and again shifting his focus to High Officer Harel, "but I would gladly take any that you are willing to spare and fly them over that relic again and again until the seared flesh of those brigands can be smelled all the way to Remi." He made a fist with his right hand and smacked it into his open left palm. "The flames would be visible for miles. We would make statment. The people of Ilia would wail among themselves and say, 'If the Inquisition will go to such lengths to clear out their own lands, imagine what terrors they will instill upon us!'" The young Low Officer scanned the other eyes in the room as he finished speaking. Did the others agree with him? Perhaps the suggestion was brutal, but brutality could be useful here. If Remi saw the destructive forces they were willing to bring to bear, the city very well may surrender before Etrurian forces arrived which would minimize casualties on both the Etrurian and the Ilian sides. It would be a very clean victory that would acquire a very valuable port city for Etruria.
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Post by Riva Harel on Jun 2, 2015 20:09:55 GMT -6
Riva stayed silent, listening as more options were floated through the room, most of which were productive. She liked the idea of a small squad of scouts patrolling ahead to see what they would be up against; even though it’s likely something she would have done anyways, having one of the officers volunteer their men for the job rather than Riva handing down an order was preferred. The officers needed to take ownership of the mission, which would keep them accountable and invested every step of the way.
Just as the high officer was going to accept Marcus’s offer, however, the newcomer, Officer Arilia, chimed in. She was already very aware of the wyverns at their disposal, though using the full force of the beasts on the old bandit fort hadn’t been a thought she’d really considered. It was risky, but she couldn’t deny the message attacking in the way he described would send a message, no matter how brutal.
Was that the message they wanted to send, though? Their plan so far had been to take Remi by surprise, to not let them know that Etruria was coming out in full force to occupy them. Firebombing Modlin would be such a show of force that it could spur the Ilians to reinforce their borders and nearby cities. The question was: did the Bernese rebellion have their soldiers spread thin enough to negate the potential response?
“Hmm.” Riva scanned the room as the young officer did, gauging the officer’s response. Not surprisingly, many seemed alight with interest, what with the young man pitching essentially another show of force like Ostia had been. Riva wasn’t sure if strategically, a full-on artillery assault would be the best option, but sending in foot soldiers risked less casualties and practically guaranteed victory. The more she considered the officer’s plan, the more she found herself caught up in the same fervor some of the other officers seemed to have gained.
“I believe we have our preliminary orders, officers,” Riva finally said, looking down to the map. As she described the plan, she placed markers and motioned to spots on the map. “We’ll move through the border towns and occupy, leaving small squads of soldiers with a healer to secure the occupation. Once we’re a mile and a half out from the fort, give or take, Marcus’s men will scout ahead so we can ensure we have an accurate read on the bandit forces, and on their return, as Officer Aurilia suggested, the Wyvern unit will strike with one of our mage units.”
“Any questions?”
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Post by Remus on Jun 4, 2015 7:17:36 GMT -6
High Officer Hawthorne let out a loud laugh. It was a bellowing tone that filled the entire tent and was a definitive answer to what did a bear look like when happy. The notion of an entire wyvern unit bombing the hells out of unsuspecting, and better yet un-prepared gormless brigands who would be left to burn alive? That was a damn good thought. It was one of the few moments the high officer was showing any emotion other than disgruntled. A meaty hand slapped down onto the side of the table, his colossal arm causing the wood to shake universally somewhat as the bear of a man proclaimed his approval.
"A damn good plan! While It'll be a shame to miss out on a good old fashion hunt for the mangy bastards..I think It'll be a nice sight to see them roast alive within their fort. Aye! I say if they want to play soldier we give em a taste of war! That, and it will show the Ilian pups how adults wage war. Maybe while the sods are screaming the Ilians can flee from our hammer!"
A few other officers voiced approval and cheered in response, and the towering High Officer withdrew his hand to stand with arms crossed over his chest once more. The smile faded and the general resting expression of unhappy resumed it's vigil.
Remus wasn't sure what appalled him more. That anyone was able to laugh and cheer over the idea of lighting people on fire..or that some of the other officers were getting swept up in the zealous fire and nodding or cheering in approval. This was war? Not even that..but..planning for it? The churning tight sensation in his stomach made him almost dizzy. The Priest quietly leaned more of his weight onto his stick and looked downwards. Hopefully it would be confused for prayer, but he was feeling quite nauseous.
His eyes snapped shut firmly as he swayed briefly, feeling a dizzy rush over come him as vertigo sent him spiraling. The ceiling was down and the grass laden ground was up. Every muscle in the priests body went rigid, and for once he'd never been so grateful that the blue robes he wore were the opposite of form fitting. The baggy nature hid this moment of bodily seizure while he grasped desperately, internally, at his fortitude to compose himself and even try to steel himself. He just..this was wrong. All of this.
It was mere moments. Yet it felt like an eternity. Remus squeezed his staff until the blood fled from his knuckles and his skin turned white around them; or more pale than he already was. He now looked as if he was in a devout prayer, with his head lowered and clutching his staff. However the priest eased his eyes open a moment later and slowly stood straighter. He did not speak, instead trying to just...keep composure now that he'd regained it. A quiet voice chimed in as High Officer Harel asked if there were any questions. The High Officer Marcus spoke up once again. Though in the loud din of zealotry a moment prior he sounded almost hushed. Obviously, spending so much time out in the wilderness gave his volumes a different setting.
"I like the plan...just make sure your wyvern units wait till all my men clear the tree's. Any wind catches flame and there's a chance that the entire wood goes up with it. I don't want my scouts getting burned alive with the bandits."
Remus knew little about how nature worked, at-least compared to the survival natures of it. That there might be wind blowing the flames wasn't even a thought. Nor was it one he ever imagined would be a concern. A small vestige of hope remained that the plan might be dismissed because of this. However it was stamped into dirt when the man spoke a second time.
"That's assuming the winds are unfavorable though..or there are winds. Just looking out for those who can't fly."
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Post by Alranus Aurilia on Jun 17, 2015 19:44:40 GMT -6
"I would never needlessly put the life of a good Etrurian soldier at risk, High Officer Marcus," replied Alranus with a smile and a brisk shake of his head. "If a single one of your men dies to mage fire, you can take it out of my hide." The wyvern rider always prided himself on his professionalism, so he was trying to compensate for his obvious fatigue with zealousness. He wasn't sure if it was working. He also prided himself on keeping his ear to the ground, but he also wasn't familiar with the High Officer he'd just addressed. He only knew the man's name because he'd read the his file just before leaving: Alexander Marcus, a scout officer freshly promoted to the High Officer ranks. As of yet he hadn't done enough to make much of a stir, which is probably why Alranus had never heard of him until this morning, but he was clearly good enough at his job to reach High Officer. After all, Alranus was great at his job and he was only a Low Officer. But he knew that was skewed logic. Oh, if only that was the only factor necessary to be recognized.
While his unit had been temporarily assigned to fight under High Officer Harel for this invasion, the opinion Alranus was most concerned with was High Officer Hawthorne's, and the wyvern rider was glad when the bear-like man had annouced his approval. Hell, the other officers had practically cheered when he had done so! See, Officer Finneus Hawthorne was a hard man to please, but he was a hero to the Etrurian people; a warrior through and through. Under both the old king and the Prophet, the storied soldier had fought from Sacae to the Western Isles, and every time he set foot on the battlefield he did so with devestating effect. He had been the initial spearhead of the Prophet's last incursion into Sacae, the one to claim their land for Etruria's own, and had crushed those plainsrats like the offal they were. But he had been replaced by that nimrod Yurau when the Herald felt comfortable of Etruria's foothold. There had once even been rumors of Hawthorne's ascension to High Commander after High Commander Ariston's death, but when the Prophet recalled all forces back to Delphia any sort of promotion the High Officer deserved was forgotten. Alranus didn't like speaking poorly of his superiors, but what a mistake. High Officer Hawthorne wouldn't have lost control of Salvation Point to rebels, and he sure as hell wouldn't have lost the plains, or his life, to goddamn Richter Abend.
"If that's the plan then, High Officer Harel," continued Alranus, now turning his attention to Riva, "then I request that I may be dismissed. My men and I have not gotten much in the way of sleep, and I want to be at my best for the attack tonight."
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