Si Deus Nobiscum: A Polish-Lithuanian Scion Quest
- Thread starter Rolman
- Start date
- Mature Historic
Sertorius
Rebellious Legate
- Location
- Roma Invicta
Skirmishes do not count. Only real battles with thousands of combatants present. You could lose 100 skirmishes and no merc would blink an eye, since nobody ever heard about them (or they have been long since forgotten).
However, it should be noted that all soldiers (but mercs especially) were not blind to risks.
Sure, they can follow a risk taker who was lucky so far (indeed, being lucky in battle is a very sought after trait), however, they can balk at any enterprise they deem as too risky or dangerous. For instance, should our little group (and only us) decided to take on all of the Tatars from this battle, the mercs would probably vehemently protest, not believing in our chances of success. Some companies even had special clauses in their contracts, stipulating instances, when they will be excused from obeying orders. Of course, with enough money or promises anything is possible.
Many of the Western mercenaries of Charles IX, King of Sweden, had clauses saying, that they will not be deployed against the Winged Hussars in open battle. The King bribed them by doubling their wages. Then comes the battle of Kircholm in 1605, one of the greatest triumphs of Commonwealth cavalry.
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[x] Spare them all: hold them for ransom and as hostages.
Will the Lipka Bey, Amurat, or the other PLC nobles in our force hold it against us for their losses?
- Location
- United States
You'll see, you'll see. I am comfortable saying though that your household troops respect you more, if anything: you have been walking around with a reputation for piety and sensitivity til now, your one duel win and two skirmishes only proving that you're not a coward. Now? You've proven yourself a capable(-ish? it's not like everything worked out) commander and, perhaps more importantly to a red-blooded hussar, a valorous one at that. Losing two horses means something to a cavalryman.
What I'm interested to see is how out society and family will reconcile this with what they know of us already.
Will other nobles trust us less now that our deeds visibly differ from our words and mannerisms? Will our rivals try to cast us as a deceiver who hid his true nature under a mask of meek piety? Will our family push is into more militant roles now that we're showing ourselves to be a capable commander, or will our elder brothers start to perceive us as a threat due to our successes?
I also wonder if we earned a nickname we can be proud of by this point in our career.
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I am swayed by this. Was heavily debating the humanist angle myself, but in the end I tried to approach it from the realpolitik and pragmatism angle than anything else. Because of the logistical challenges of holding a lot of prisoners during this period, especially with a force as ad hoc and impromptu as our army.
[X] Spare them all: hold them for ransom and as hostages.
A tiny note regarding the wikibox
- Location
- United States
You know, the more I think about the 1,300 figure, the more I'm thinking it may be a little high in absolute numbers. Those Wikipedia articles aren't always reliable, yeah?
But the important thing, the unchanged thing, is to understand that losses were borderline-catastrophic among the 2,000-strong advance force — aka you and the Ostrogski brothers — at least double of what's typical for a pitched battle. Zamoyski's people took "average" losses, and that the Ostrogski musketeers never engaged and lost no one.
Another small thing that I left implied but will now make explicit: the guys burning down the Tatar camp (disregarding the Tatars who began to scorched-earth it themselves) were elements of your mercenary rajtaria who abandoned the hill charge to pilfer the joint instead. Not all of them did it, but a noticeable amount.
But the important thing, the unchanged thing, is to understand that losses were borderline-catastrophic among the 2,000-strong advance force — aka you and the Ostrogski brothers — at least double of what's typical for a pitched battle. Zamoyski's people took "average" losses, and that the Ostrogski musketeers never engaged and lost no one.
Another small thing that I left implied but will now make explicit: the guys burning down the Tatar camp (disregarding the Tatars who began to scorched-earth it themselves) were elements of your mercenary rajtaria who abandoned the hill charge to pilfer the joint instead. Not all of them did it, but a noticeable amount.
- Location
- Colorado
Based on this Im gonna go with
[X] Spare them all: hold them for ransom and as hostages.
I think that since we took so many losses the smart thing here is to recoup as much as we can so we don't end up like my armies after three consecutive battles in total war (depleted and exhausted)
[X] Spare them all: hold them for ransom and as hostages.
- Pronouns
- She/They
I'm not sure I follow the logic here, exactly - taking all their officers hostage is going to deplete our warmaking ability more, because we'll have to dedicate a fair amount of manpower to watching the hostages, and a fair amount more to making sure some drunk mercenary doesn't just shiv them on principle. Now, in the long run, gold means men, but it doesn't necessarily help us on the current campaign.
“The Aftermath.” August 9-12, 1575. At Camp.
- Location
- United States
The night is quiet. None of the men, not even the unscathed musketeers, are in the mood for revelry. Many still drink, of course, but it's a quiet thing. Conversations around campfires, yes, but no singing or dancing. The camp-following kobzari and lirnyki hang back, easily reading the mood. You washed yourself hard and well in a basin before bed, but still feel utterly disgusting on this humid night, sticky and with crawling skin, like the dirt and dried blood is all still there. The fresh-sutured wound in your thigh itches and stings, and your whole leg aches and is turning purple and sickly yellow from being crushed by the horse. You're lucky it wasn't broken.
And so you toss about in your tent, bone-tired and yet without sleep. Perhaps it's that terrible ringing in your ears following you about long after the last shot was fired. Or it's the yowls and groans emanating from the surgeons' tents, lingering long after the last amputation of the day. Maybe it is all the things you see when you close your eyes, the shapes and colored dots floating across your vision as your mind races, replaying every kill, every moment in which you stared death in the face, the way the low-ranking Tatars were gunned down and put to the sword. Another Moncontour, this time yours – even if they were heathens, even if they committed countless crimes of their own. It's one thing for a man to be killed or even tortured after a lawful trial, but to lay down your arms with hopes of mercy, only to be rounded up and shot and hacked to pieces? How can that sit right with anybody?
What a strange and cruel world we inhabit. God's grace and beauty all about, the words of the Saints to live by and study, and yet men turn on each other in these ways, are led astray into Mahometan heathenry and Indian idolatry and even misguided Christianity. For it was Eve who first gave into the Adversary's lies, and her son struck down his brother. And now it repeats itself upon this Earth, again and again and again.
You make sure to place the Tatars under heavy guard by loyal men, sadly sapping you of a hundred or so good fighters – and this is not just so that they don't escape. There are more than a few furious Ruthenians who disagree with your decision to make them all into bargaining chips. But you ensure that they will not be treated as true noblemen, for they're nothing more but heathen clan chiefs. They're fed the bread and cheese that have gone moldy, forced to drink beer and smear their food with pork lard to spite their evil faith. That last bit wasn't your idea, but it seems like a good enough one, and the Lipkas remain silent on the matter. You're not sure to be proud or terrified of yourself – imagine being told to spit or piss on the Cross… No, no, it's not the same, it can't be the same. The Christ is merciful indeed, but that won't spare them from man's justice. Or punishment. Let them wallow in their disgrace. Sometimes you feel like that little bastard King of France Charles, who laughed and cried, one after the other, at the Huguenots' slaughter, may he be burning in the Pit.
Everybody was too weary to speak the night of the battle, but the camp comes more alive the following morning. The thousand musketeers – them being lowly commoners and the least-bloodied of the fighters – are marched to the battlefield to begin the arduous process of burning Tatars and burying Christians, flanked by priests both Catholic and Orthodox, alongside the Lipkas' imam and the Protestants' reverends. You're glad you don't have to see that mess, though you may smell it soon enough. You're told that that many men and horses can produce a miasma that carries for half a mile.
The Lipkas' Mirza Amurat asks to see you. "We are not cowards, Your Serene Highness," he begins.
"Surely not," you interject. "I have heard of you and your people's valor, and I commend you all. You will be paid double – no, triple wages."
"But that will not bring my men back, my kinsfolk and countrymen. You know our villages well, Your Serene Highness, how few of us there are…"
"Yes..?"
"Well," he sounds shaky, scratching the back of his neck. "We are farmers before we are soldiers or mercenaries. You know we are loyal to the family, and always grateful for our land grants and our freedom of faith and conduct." He hesitates. "But I must request we be sent home. The rye harvest is already here, and so many of us will be buried so far from our houses." It almost seems like he's getting emotional. "It is difficult to go on."
[ ] "Very well. I shall pay your people with the enemies' armor and weapons and horses. You have served the cause admirably."
The noble thing to do.
[] "Very well, but on one condition: pick ten of your men to stay behind. They shall be our emissaries to Bakczysaraj."
It'd be invaluable to send Tatars to negotiate with Tatars.
[] "I'm afraid I must command you to stay, mirza. This will all be over soon, I swear it by my God."
We cannot afford to lose a few hundred skilled skirmishers, not at a time like this.
[] write-in.
Framed as a verbal response; perhaps some other kind of compromise can be reached?
Amurat nods. "Yes, my lord. Thank you for the audience."
Another issue to be handled is the case of the disobedient rajtaria: some but not all stayed behind at the Tatars' camp to loot it. After thoroughly dressing down their German captain – who never disobeyed you and showed off some personal courage, you're told – you tell him to:
[] flog any of his men found in possession of looted goods.
Tatar bows, Armenian carpets, sets of armor, sabers, inexplicable amounts of gold or silver. All of these warrant punishment, even if these men could have acquired some of these items off of the field as part of the customary looting, rather than from indiscipline in the camp itself.
[] let his men know that they shall not receive double pay, but promise better rates should they shape up.
Let's not have a mutiny on our hands, but they must face some kind of punishment for their indiscipline. With these types, you give an inch and they take a mile. Let them feel a sting for their refusal to be proper soldiers.
[] deliver a strongly-worded speech to his men, promising real retribution should they act up again.
It's best not to interfere with things like pay, let alone imposing discipline externally. Mercenaries are fickle, and it's best to let them *fear* punishment than to actually mete it out upon them.
[] write-in.
Recall that you're using the mercenary captain as a middleman between yourself and his rank-and-file.
There will need to be a few days taken to rest and bury or burn the dead. But after that? You're not quite sure.
Konstanty doesn't really speak anymore, just stares, but his brother is more than willing to speak: "we have met terror with terror," says the hotspur coldly. "We must continue the campaign as late into the season as we can."
You recall that you have until October 3rd, when the Convocation Sejm is to commence at Warszawa. That gives you some time, but not too much time – it would take about three weeks, you reckon, to make it to the city from here, and obviously longer if you find yourself further afield. Leaving by the middle of next month at the latest would be ideal.
"What of our friends though, lord princes?" asks Zamoyski. "We haven't put them to the sword out of the kindness of our Christian hearts. I'm of the opinion we establish a line of contact with the Khan, and see if we can't negotiate a peace." He crosses his arms. "After all, it's one of his own grandsons on the line – though Lord knows he's got a lot of spawn – and his beys will surely protest their sons and brothers and nephews being held with knives to their throats." Oh, so you can take the credit?
You calculate it would take two and a half weeks for horsemen to reach the capital in Crimea. You say…
[] "I'm afraid I agree with the noble Prince Janusz, Lord Zamoyski. We've got them on the run – let's finish the job. We can speak of ransoms and peaces once they're back over the Dniepr."
The only thing stopping you is time and money…
[] You grin. "Let them taste their own bitter medicine. We'll dispatch our messengers for Bakczysaraj, but lie in wait here to ambush any chambuls returning home."
Perhaps the best of both worlds, but certainly treacherous on your part. It's a good way to guarantee a reprisal in a couple years.
[] "We're too bloodied to go on. Let us dispatch emissaries and see what comes of it, and respond to any new incursions."
The losses suffered here at Zawadówka are great. It's best to begin a slow withdrawal, or at least to take a defensive posture and wait for a reply.
[] You stand tall. "I'll go to Bakczysaraj myself and settle the score. You all can decide what to do here. Treat my men well."
More than a month's round trip, and they wouldn't dare touch a man of your stature. Would they? But the bargaining power and awe-striking presence of a fearless Christian prince in their midst…
[] write-in.
Framed as a verbal response.
And so you toss about in your tent, bone-tired and yet without sleep. Perhaps it's that terrible ringing in your ears following you about long after the last shot was fired. Or it's the yowls and groans emanating from the surgeons' tents, lingering long after the last amputation of the day. Maybe it is all the things you see when you close your eyes, the shapes and colored dots floating across your vision as your mind races, replaying every kill, every moment in which you stared death in the face, the way the low-ranking Tatars were gunned down and put to the sword. Another Moncontour, this time yours – even if they were heathens, even if they committed countless crimes of their own. It's one thing for a man to be killed or even tortured after a lawful trial, but to lay down your arms with hopes of mercy, only to be rounded up and shot and hacked to pieces? How can that sit right with anybody?
What a strange and cruel world we inhabit. God's grace and beauty all about, the words of the Saints to live by and study, and yet men turn on each other in these ways, are led astray into Mahometan heathenry and Indian idolatry and even misguided Christianity. For it was Eve who first gave into the Adversary's lies, and her son struck down his brother. And now it repeats itself upon this Earth, again and again and again.
You make sure to place the Tatars under heavy guard by loyal men, sadly sapping you of a hundred or so good fighters – and this is not just so that they don't escape. There are more than a few furious Ruthenians who disagree with your decision to make them all into bargaining chips. But you ensure that they will not be treated as true noblemen, for they're nothing more but heathen clan chiefs. They're fed the bread and cheese that have gone moldy, forced to drink beer and smear their food with pork lard to spite their evil faith. That last bit wasn't your idea, but it seems like a good enough one, and the Lipkas remain silent on the matter. You're not sure to be proud or terrified of yourself – imagine being told to spit or piss on the Cross… No, no, it's not the same, it can't be the same. The Christ is merciful indeed, but that won't spare them from man's justice. Or punishment. Let them wallow in their disgrace. Sometimes you feel like that little bastard King of France Charles, who laughed and cried, one after the other, at the Huguenots' slaughter, may he be burning in the Pit.
Everybody was too weary to speak the night of the battle, but the camp comes more alive the following morning. The thousand musketeers – them being lowly commoners and the least-bloodied of the fighters – are marched to the battlefield to begin the arduous process of burning Tatars and burying Christians, flanked by priests both Catholic and Orthodox, alongside the Lipkas' imam and the Protestants' reverends. You're glad you don't have to see that mess, though you may smell it soon enough. You're told that that many men and horses can produce a miasma that carries for half a mile.
The Lipkas' Mirza Amurat asks to see you. "We are not cowards, Your Serene Highness," he begins.
"Surely not," you interject. "I have heard of you and your people's valor, and I commend you all. You will be paid double – no, triple wages."
"But that will not bring my men back, my kinsfolk and countrymen. You know our villages well, Your Serene Highness, how few of us there are…"
"Yes..?"
"Well," he sounds shaky, scratching the back of his neck. "We are farmers before we are soldiers or mercenaries. You know we are loyal to the family, and always grateful for our land grants and our freedom of faith and conduct." He hesitates. "But I must request we be sent home. The rye harvest is already here, and so many of us will be buried so far from our houses." It almost seems like he's getting emotional. "It is difficult to go on."
[ ] "Very well. I shall pay your people with the enemies' armor and weapons and horses. You have served the cause admirably."
The noble thing to do.
[] "Very well, but on one condition: pick ten of your men to stay behind. They shall be our emissaries to Bakczysaraj."
It'd be invaluable to send Tatars to negotiate with Tatars.
[] "I'm afraid I must command you to stay, mirza. This will all be over soon, I swear it by my God."
We cannot afford to lose a few hundred skilled skirmishers, not at a time like this.
[] write-in.
Framed as a verbal response; perhaps some other kind of compromise can be reached?
Amurat nods. "Yes, my lord. Thank you for the audience."
Another issue to be handled is the case of the disobedient rajtaria: some but not all stayed behind at the Tatars' camp to loot it. After thoroughly dressing down their German captain – who never disobeyed you and showed off some personal courage, you're told – you tell him to:
[] flog any of his men found in possession of looted goods.
Tatar bows, Armenian carpets, sets of armor, sabers, inexplicable amounts of gold or silver. All of these warrant punishment, even if these men could have acquired some of these items off of the field as part of the customary looting, rather than from indiscipline in the camp itself.
[] let his men know that they shall not receive double pay, but promise better rates should they shape up.
Let's not have a mutiny on our hands, but they must face some kind of punishment for their indiscipline. With these types, you give an inch and they take a mile. Let them feel a sting for their refusal to be proper soldiers.
[] deliver a strongly-worded speech to his men, promising real retribution should they act up again.
It's best not to interfere with things like pay, let alone imposing discipline externally. Mercenaries are fickle, and it's best to let them *fear* punishment than to actually mete it out upon them.
[] write-in.
Recall that you're using the mercenary captain as a middleman between yourself and his rank-and-file.
There will need to be a few days taken to rest and bury or burn the dead. But after that? You're not quite sure.
Konstanty doesn't really speak anymore, just stares, but his brother is more than willing to speak: "we have met terror with terror," says the hotspur coldly. "We must continue the campaign as late into the season as we can."
You recall that you have until October 3rd, when the Convocation Sejm is to commence at Warszawa. That gives you some time, but not too much time – it would take about three weeks, you reckon, to make it to the city from here, and obviously longer if you find yourself further afield. Leaving by the middle of next month at the latest would be ideal.
"What of our friends though, lord princes?" asks Zamoyski. "We haven't put them to the sword out of the kindness of our Christian hearts. I'm of the opinion we establish a line of contact with the Khan, and see if we can't negotiate a peace." He crosses his arms. "After all, it's one of his own grandsons on the line – though Lord knows he's got a lot of spawn – and his beys will surely protest their sons and brothers and nephews being held with knives to their throats." Oh, so you can take the credit?
You calculate it would take two and a half weeks for horsemen to reach the capital in Crimea. You say…
[] "I'm afraid I agree with the noble Prince Janusz, Lord Zamoyski. We've got them on the run – let's finish the job. We can speak of ransoms and peaces once they're back over the Dniepr."
The only thing stopping you is time and money…
[] You grin. "Let them taste their own bitter medicine. We'll dispatch our messengers for Bakczysaraj, but lie in wait here to ambush any chambuls returning home."
Perhaps the best of both worlds, but certainly treacherous on your part. It's a good way to guarantee a reprisal in a couple years.
[] "We're too bloodied to go on. Let us dispatch emissaries and see what comes of it, and respond to any new incursions."
The losses suffered here at Zawadówka are great. It's best to begin a slow withdrawal, or at least to take a defensive posture and wait for a reply.
[] You stand tall. "I'll go to Bakczysaraj myself and settle the score. You all can decide what to do here. Treat my men well."
More than a month's round trip, and they wouldn't dare touch a man of your stature. Would they? But the bargaining power and awe-striking presence of a fearless Christian prince in their midst…
[] write-in.
Framed as a verbal response.
- Location
- United States
Sorry if you were trying to get your vote in still, but the margin seemed quite large (63%-37%, if I'm not mistaken). And wow -- 22 votes! I haven't seen that much interest in a long while, and I remember some dog days were there'd only be 10 or 12. God willing, we shall one day hit the chargen-era 40. Thanks so much!
Oh, this is exciting, but who will we take with us in this scenario? Or will we literally go alone?
Astra Myst
Do you want a wish?
- Location
- Milky Way Galaxy
[X] You stand tall. "I'll go to Bakczysaraj myself and settle the score. You all can decide what to do here. Treat my men well."
Banger banger banger
Banger banger banger
Some very interesting choices here! Do we know under the terms our mercenaries are employed? They're contract soldiers, so they gotta have a contract that outlines all the stuff they're obligated, and not obligated, to do as part of the agreement to fight for the promise of our pay.
As for the Tatars. I believe blending options 1 and 2 together would be well. Reward them, but have a handful around to help with emissary work. Something like
[X] Write-in: "Very well, you've served admirably and courageously. You shall have the enemy's weapons and armor and horses, yet I must request a handful of your men stay behind to assist me as emissaries to Bakczysaraj."
[X] You stand tall. "I'll go to Bakczysaraj myself and settle the score. You all can decide what to do here. Treat my men well."
As for negotiations... Yeah, campaigning season might get in the way of our election season, so peace is something we must try... I'm partial toward going ourselves, granted we can have a small escort including, hopefully, our Lipka Tatars to assist in the negotiations. Plus, negotiating the peace ourselves will give us even more positive reputation if we can halt the raiding season until after the election.
But there is always running the risk that... Well... They just take us captive and poor Stanislaw might spend the time of the Sjem as a Tatar Prisoner. Or that they refuse a truce and the campaigning season goes on regardless.
Thoughts?
As for the Tatars. I believe blending options 1 and 2 together would be well. Reward them, but have a handful around to help with emissary work. Something like
[X] Write-in: "Very well, you've served admirably and courageously. You shall have the enemy's weapons and armor and horses, yet I must request a handful of your men stay behind to assist me as emissaries to Bakczysaraj."
[X] You stand tall. "I'll go to Bakczysaraj myself and settle the score. You all can decide what to do here. Treat my men well."
As for negotiations... Yeah, campaigning season might get in the way of our election season, so peace is something we must try... I'm partial toward going ourselves, granted we can have a small escort including, hopefully, our Lipka Tatars to assist in the negotiations. Plus, negotiating the peace ourselves will give us even more positive reputation if we can halt the raiding season until after the election.
But there is always running the risk that... Well... They just take us captive and poor Stanislaw might spend the time of the Sjem as a Tatar Prisoner. Or that they refuse a truce and the campaigning season goes on regardless.
Thoughts?
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- Location
- United States
Ah! My bad for not referencing it. The usual compliment: Marszowski, van Gistel, and about fifty to a hundred bodyguards, valets, etc. Fighting men.
- Pronouns
- She/They
[X] "We're too bloodied to go on. Let us dispatch emissaries and see what comes of it, and respond to any new incursions."
Putting this down right now because if we go negotiate ourselves we are absolutely getting shipped home to dad in exchange for the family jewels.
Putting this down right now because if we go negotiate ourselves we are absolutely getting shipped home to dad in exchange for the family jewels.
This is true. It's been pointed out to us in the update that the Khan likely has many sons, but we are much more valuable to our own family in absolute terms. Taking us hostage is the smart thing to do.
The other thing that worries me is that going by ourselves leaves Zamoyski in the rear, where he can spin this story any which way he likes. He'll most certainly beat us to the sejm that way, and we might as well give up hope of controlling the election.
Leaning towards deferring to our elder and learning Zamoyski's tricks from Zamoyski himself. There is also no shame in deferring to our more experienced elder; it may even show people that we're not completely vainglorious.
[X] Write-in: "Very well, you've served admirably and courageously. You shall have the enemy's weapons and armor and horses, yet I must request a handful of your men stay behind to assist me as emissaries to Bakczysaraj."
[X] let his men know that they shall not receive double pay, but promise better rates should they shape up.
[X] "We're too bloodied to go on. Let us dispatch emissaries and see what comes of it, and respond to any new incursions."
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Was the entire Tatar army caught at the battle or are parties going to be returning to the camp over time?
- Location
- United States
if only we knew…… this was a solidly-sized host though, but not the largest ever seen. The Tatars are likely still recovering from that one, though.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Write-in: "Very well, you've served admirably and courageously. You shall have the enemy's weapons and armor and horses, yet I must request a handful of your men stay behind to assist me as emissaries to Bakczysaraj."
[X] let his men know that they shall not receive double pay, but promise better rates should they shape up.
[X] "We're too bloodied to go on. Let us dispatch emissaries and see what comes of it, and respond to any new incursions.
[X] let his men know that they shall not receive double pay, but promise better rates should they shape up.
[X] "We're too bloodied to go on. Let us dispatch emissaries and see what comes of it, and respond to any new incursions.
Oversight/Clarification for "The Aftermath"
- Location
- United States
I noticed some wonky wording: the choice of having some Lipka Tatars stay behind to serve as adhoc diplomats is NOT mutually exclusive with the choice of personally going to Bakhchisary -- should the vote for going yourself win, they come with, should it not, they go by themselves with an armed escort of hussars.