PI: Gatetown: The Rim (Sam 29th, TT)

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PI: Gatetown: The Rim (Sam 29th, TT)

Post by Grant »

The settlement known as Gatetown was no town at all. In fact, it was a shoddy collection of tents, shanties, and shacks thrown together amid the ruins of what might have once been a city so many hundreds of yahren ago...all built around the Portal, which stood in the open air right at the center of those ruins. Finding his way through the maze might prove something of a problem...if Valsert had been left alone to forge his own path.

The shoddy town was built within a glade of the forest, an area where the trees were less dense than most. They were still covered by a canopy of leaves above, and all around the settlement/ruins...perhaps a diameter of half a mile...the trees rose up like walls, marking the outer edges of the ad-hoc settlement. There were precious few buildings made of anything greater than cloth, felled branches or scraps of discarded lumber...and those were inadequate for anything close to defense. Due to the rather poor sunlight the ground received beneath the canopy of leaves, the ground in Gatetown was a muddy, soupy mess...typical of most battlefields anywhere in the world.

"They're here! They're here!" came a distant voice from the West, calling out over the largely abandoned settlement. Instantly, Karen was in motion, shouting at everyone around her. "Get going! Get going now!" she ordered, before turning and charging to the East herself...towards the thick forest and the column of refugees that Valsert noticed beyond.

"Valsert!" she called as she ran, breaking some protocol of her own in her familiar address. "Wait to engage the enemy! If they make it through the city and give chase to the refugees, use the cavalry to delay and divert them!" she called, as the remainder of the gate crews scattered and routed to the East. Whatever had come for them...whatever alarm had been raised...Valsert couldn't see anything yet, but it was clear the enemy approached from the West. A pity he had no time to find out exactly what he would be fighting today...
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Post by valsert »

It took a couple of flickers for it all to sink in, which conveniently prevented him from dashing out into the den of movement and noise of the camp, long enough to hear the orders from Lieutenant Barnus. The importance of those orders coming as a large slap of reality, putting him in motion.

Well this reception is about as warm as a pups lips on a Trothgard bitches teat! Light! Where are the defenses! Where is the fucking army! He thought as he ran through the camp in the direction of Quentin's green and gold banner.

I was right. Someone needs to save this war from the officers, before they get us all killed

None of this was what he expected on his arrival. All of the strategy and tactics he had thought of while waiting in line to use the portal had involved a secure and defensible military camp, not the running retreat that seemed to be occurring now.

Putting aside the thoughts of everything the young Sargent had expected, he turned his mind to the task at hand....not slipping in the mud as he ran.
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Post by Grant »

Reaching the edge of the Gatetown glade, Valsert first caught sight of what would amount to his command. They were cavalry...which was refreshing in terms of maneuver, but hardly advantageous in the woods. They wore armors...heavy breastplates, grieves and pauldrons of lacquered golden steel strapped over uniforms of gold and green, and they were armed with horseman sabres. All told, they were a fine-looking lot, though Valsert couldn't be certain how many were collected just beyond the rim. They seemed to be expecting him, and they were collected in a large group, some of which were mounted while others held their mounts close, ready to ride and awaiting orders.

Back in Gatetown, Valsert could see what amounted to too much activity for an abandoned town about to face invasion. There were people down there...a centaur, a woman, a child, and a few smaller men or adhiel...and another man was charging in towards Gatetown from the East, one of the departing refugees apparently returning to the settlement despite the clear approach of the enemy.

The Lieutenant was not present, having split off from Valsert early. The sergeant was certainly right about one thing: the situation was well beyond control, but at least there seemed to be some sense of preparation. Even the centaurs...the massive, thousand-pound sentries of the settlement...were withdrawing, pulling back from the on-coming danger to the West like wolves racing through a tall field, shifting back to insure all were evacuated and to cover the refugee's escape.
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Post by valsert »

A feeling of irritation struck the young human soldier at the sight of those who were moving too slowly, a child being among them only making it worse. He knew the heroic thing to do would be running to them and forcing them to leave at once, to save them from themselves and the on coming army. But Valsert had never been that sort of hero. He was a soldier, as such the knowledge of wars costly price filled his mind. The morale battle in him was over as quickly as the thoughts had come into his mind. To ignore his orders could mean the death of all those here as well as those already fleeing.

His thoughts shifted as he approached the armored cavalry, their armor reminding him of his own lack of protection.

"Hail! I am Valsert Forell, I seek Captain Quentin." He said as he leveled his gaze at the nearest mounted soldier that he was certain held a lower rank, and made the final few strides between them.

"and I need armor and a mount...Quickly now!"

He doubted any here knew his own rank in the Purple Guard, nor the fact that he was a member of that organization for that matter. The former he was dead set against revealing as it was his every intention to command these powerful looking Dortmen, and it would be best if they thought of him as their superior. The later however, he chose to disclose at that moment by pulling out his Purple Guardsman's Tabard, preparing to don it over what ever armor they found for him.
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Post by Grant »

"I'm Captain Quentin," came the instant reply. Captain Quentin didn't appear too different from the rest of his cavalry...his uniform, shining plates, and vestments appeared largely the same...but his demeanor suggested experience and perhaps some advanced age compared to the other Cuirassiers, with a salt-and-pepper beard framing a wide and strong face that seemed almost as resilient as the plate helmet just over it. Valsert couldn't see the nearly imperceptible nudge of the Captain's heels that guided his horse to take a few steps forward, leaving the sergeant with the impression that the Captain's horse sought to introduce itself as well.

"Welcome, Guardsman. We were hoping to find someone coordinating affairs here on the island. Until now, it has seemed...something of a debacle, if you ask me. Bring a Horse for the Commander!" Quentin interrupted himself, shouting out a command to have Valsert's ride brought to him. Once issued, he continued to speak as if he had never stopped. "Can't be helped, I suppose. The inhabitants of Pan's Isle don't know anything of the practice of war. Oh, they can be fierce if they choose to be...but they know nothing of warfare, as I'm sure you've noticed since you've arrived."

Glancing past Valsert, Captain Quentin took in the scene beyond and into Gatetown itself. "We've only just arrived from Fort Dusk, to the North. I don't have any ready intelligence regarding our opponent, or the tactical situation we face. I only know that Priestess Eilish herself, Governess and Imperial Elect to the Advisory Council of the Emperor, has ordered everyone out of Gatetown. We are not to take the field today."

A horse was indeed brought forward, one of the spares that the Sunfires kept in her baggage train. The animal was large and powerful, typical of Dortese horseflesh that valued weight over speed. A roan stud, the animal seemed to only just tolerate the saddle and bridle with which it had been fitted. Valsert had enough experience with riding to recognize the fierce look of defiance in the animal's eye...a clear sign of a fine performer, but one that would require a firm hand.

"I'm afraid I don't have any armor for you, Commander. We were hard pressed to muster the supplies we needed when we were dispatched here! Still, the Duke sends his compliments...and we have strict orders to receive our tactical orders from you. You are not to be placed at risk if it can be avoided."
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Post by valsert »

As Quentin continued to speak, Valsert took hold of the animal’s bridle, pulling down on the leather to draw the horses face and eyes to a level where he could stare directly into them. He continued to stare the horse down for the duration of the captain’s words, asserting his dominance over the horse and whispering to the beast, as he had done countless times before in the stables of his former home.

“It’s a fine line lad. To break a horses ‘will’ without breaking er ‘spirit.’” Val remembered those wise words from his boyhood. It was one of the few memories he still had of his father and the day they first set out to visit town.

Forcing his thoughts asside, and finaly satisfied with his equine efforts, Valsert turned his attention fully to the Captain.

“We may not be fully taking the field today Captain, but we are in for a skirmish or two before the day is done.” He replied, then launched into the orders he had been given.

“If the enemy peruses the refugees beyond the ruins, we will delay, divert, or otherwise detain the advance of their army. The importance of this can only be counted by the number of lives that may be saved from the butchers by our efforts.

I do have a few…..ideas, that may prove useful to draw them off. How many bows or crossbows do you have captain?” the last said as he placed his foot in a Stirrup and hoisted himself into the saddle.
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Post by Grant »

"Plenty of bows, Guardsman. No crossbows, of course..." replied the Captain with a sideways look. The fundamental truth was that, in the Empire, crossbows were still somewhat rare. This was as much due to the technical requirements of manufacturing them as well as the Imperial Ban on trade or use of the devastating weapons imposed so many yahren ago. While the Duke of Dort was not above ignoring this ban to arm his best military forces with crossbows, it was just as likely that he ordered the Sunfires to leave their illegal weapons behind before they were staged to Pan's Isle. "To pierce heavier armors, we'd have to get in close. And as you know, we can't move and attack effectively with the bows."

That was another limitation of today's cavalry. While cavalry...be it knight or light horseman...could move fast and strike with devastating force against lighter or disorganized foes, they couldn't shoot with any effectiveness from horseback. They were forced to halt or even dismount to provide effective fire, leaving any Commander with the option of either charging with sabre...or firing from a distance. Thankfully, the Sunfires were heavily armored...so it seemed likely that they could do at least well in any kind of skirmish. Sadly, the enemy was anything but disorganized...and Valsert could now see them approach from across the Gatetown glade, opposite of his position.

There were perhaps three hundred, all told. Their center was anchored by a one hundred man column of mixed foot, each bearing shield and pike, and all wearing a red tabard thrown over their shoulders. They were mismatched, marking them as conscripts or mercenaries. Anchoring their left was a rank of perhaps fifty priests, all wearing thick armors, large shields, and close weapons. These were the Confessors, and in front of these stood a tall Inquisitor carrying the Unbroken Circle of Silver...the All-Seeing Eye...of the One God, raised high on a pole some twenty feet in the air, with tassels and ribbons streaming around it. Anchoring the right were the most dreadful of opponents: the Paladin foot, each man wearing a full suit of articulated plate armor and carrying mixed weapons that included two-handed swords, halberds, and war axes. Behind these three ranks was a squadron of mounted Cavalry, each one bearing a long lance and shield, prepared to charge enemy cavalry or foot alike. They waited behind the lines, in reserve, to provide whatever decisive strike might be necessary to end the battle quickly. Finally, a thin rank of perhaps fifty archers were arranged in a single file in front of the entire army, each one carrying an arcballistae armed with a single flaming bolt. The archers were wearing simple serf clothing, but each one featured an arm-band of red to mark him as a conscript.

Leading this force was a man on a tall, white stallion. He wore a set of long, red robes decorated with a shining, gold scapular and intricate gold thread work over his entire length. He raised his hand to bring his army to a halt and turned his horse to slip behind the lines. The battle was about to begin.
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Post by valsert »

Valsert listened intently to the captains response to his inquiries, lifting his brows as the Dortman spoke of bow use before explaining the reasion for his question.

"Yes of course Captain. I understand the limitations. However today, as you put it, we are not exactly taking the field. The actual effectiveness of your bows in killing or wounding these Mouthers is not exactly the intention.

From what I have seen the resistance consists mostly of tribal warriors, and archers of varied skill. If your bowmen fire into them from concealed positions, they should respond by dispatching a small unit to chase off what they will surely believe to be a weak group of refugees with bows. As the bowmen fall back slowly, we can easily flank and finish such a small group.

If they do send more then we can handle, we simply melt quickly into the woods and circle around to attempt another tactic from another direction.

Our orders are to delay the enemy to provide more time for the refugees to escape. But something more is needed today. From what I gather, there has not been much of a resistance put up against the invasion other then minor tribe like forces who, although a thorn in their side, likely accomplish no more then a minor harassment.

No sir. We need to make them fear us, or at the least...respect us."

The human Sargent halted his talk for only a few short flickers as he surveyed the approaching army. Details of their strengths and weaknesses standing out to his tactical mind. It was a new experience for him, to contemplate real tactics against an army sized for battle, but he had done well in his studies at the Citadel and even his smaller scale experiences seemed fitting for this situation...at least in his own mind.

"Look there sir, their march is very well organized, is it not?" He began speaking again, but allowed no pause for his question to be answered. Not very original, but certainly organized.


"Those Foot being anchored to the left and right by seasoned units. That should help to keep the green foot solders from being shocked by a flank on those two sides. The seasoned soldiers will stand firm and be more difficult to route which in turn will lend courage to the less experienced in the middle, as they will be taking fewer casualties. With the Cavalry to the rear, the only place for those in the middle to go is forward. Without those hardened soldiers around them, I believe that center column would break and run in what ever direction was open to them if faced with a Mounted charge.

In fact if their own Cavalry were to be drawn off, they would be encumbered among the trees by those lances, or forced to drop them. Also the accuracy of your bowmen would not matter as they fired into the mass of foot, from behind. Bowmen ride up, halt and fire just before the remainder of the force charges past into the rear of that column, bowmen charging after with sabers drawn. No sir, I'm not even sure that seasoned soldiers would keep steady in the face of that."

Valsert knew full well as he spoke, that his 'Rear charge' idea was better suited for an actual battle, rather then the task at hand, but he said it anyway in the hopes of gaining a bit of respect from the Captain. Respect that could produce a stronger bond of trust between the two.

"Well Captain, no matter what action we take here there is one thing we must urgently do. Dispatch a messenger ahead at once, detailing the force set against us."
Last edited by valsert on Mon Feb 26, 2007 7:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
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