[X]Defensive. Fall back against the palisade, remove some pressure from the soldiers to face the bandits as one united front against another.
Pretty sure dividing is usually a bad idea in this sort of warfare, and Hope for the Harvest is more of a defensive bunraku anyway.
[X]Offensive. Meet the footmen head-on and carve through their ranks. If you rout them before the riders come back, you will be able to break their charge.
Seize the initiative. Crush his forces, introduce confusion. If you retreat, you give your more numerous foe a chance to organize.
[X]Offensive. Meet the footmen head-on and carve through their ranks. If you rout them before the riders come back, you will be able to break their charge.
[X]Offensive. Meet the footmen head-on and carve through their ranks. If you rout them before the riders come back, you will be able to break their charge.
Harvest is built to shatter attacking infantry formations, not chase down ones that are falling back and regrouping. Plus, we'd be splitting off from our infantry behind us. The divide part of "divide and conquer" is what you try to get the enemy to do, not something you should do yourself.
Harvest is faster than a man on foot, so it can chase after infantry. It's slower than a horse, so the Focused plan relies on surprise and angling your course. Bunraku have long legs and a good stride; Chasing Star frames routinely chase down cavalry.
[X]Focused. Break through the footmen's ranks and go straight for Iron Raven. If you can reach him and kill him before he evades you, all three formations will break.
[X]Defensive. Fall back against the palisade, remove some pressure from the soldiers to face the bandits as one united front against another.
We are not invincible; though I'd like us to cut a bloody path through the soldiers, we remain mortal, and I would prefer that we do not incur too much damage to Harvest.
(Also I'd like to see the bandit response to this.)
So it turns out I can't make my battle scenes not completely overblown and too long for Quest updates. You fuckers better like this because it's not stopping anytime soon-
IX. Of the Old People
Shidao's soldiers are about to be overwhelmed. They need your help. Together you will stand stronger than apart.
The gathered footmen walk against you once more, but they are hesitant, weakened. You take your spear in a short, quick stance and perform the dove's escape, a series of narrow cuts in the air in front of you while you progressively step back. The soldiers are emboldened by your escape and try to close in, but your motion are fast and erratic; two fall and the rest back down. The footmen assaulting the palisade behind you realize that you are closing in on them and shout cries of alarm, but too late. With an empty space in front of you you can afford to turn your back, pivoting on your heels and sweeping the palisade with your blade. The deserters have enough training to throw themselves to the ground in time, but several untrained bandits are struck down in a single move. You run up to the palisade with the bandits scattering around you in a panic, then immediately turn back to face the battlefield.
Blood is thick in the air. The palisade has collapsed in three points, Shidao's men paying dearly to prevent the bandits from entering these breaches.
"How many soldiers?" you ask breathlessly without looking over your shoulder. You hear a commotion and Shidao moves to the front of the palisade; he is limping, blood staining his left leg.
"Eleven that can hold a spear," he says grimly, looking at the dozens of the bandits now gathering in a single force to charge the meager fortifications. There are at least sixty, maybe seventy left.
"Forget the spears. Have all your men take their bows. Fire around my flanks while I hold them back."
"You will never hold back this army on your own," Shidao says, a glimmer of desperation in his eyes. You feel your gut tighten, and you push back the memory of a horde rushing past your defenses, too many to hold- No. You swallow your guilt.
"I am Tomoe, Imperial Princess, and I will not fail my wards a second time."
A shadow passes over Shidao's face, and he nods. At his order, the men abandon their spears; climbing on the palisade around you they take their bows and begin firing into the ranks of the bandits as they approach.
You allow yourself a heartbeat of rest, releasing your tension on the strings of your bunraku. Its back inclines against the palisade like the back of a chair, and for a moment the weight of the armor is lifted off your shoulders. Then the bandits' scream grow too loud to ignore as they climb the hill, and you hurl your body against the ropes, raising your armor with a groan. Two dozen spears come for you, ready to tip over your armor and make you easy prey for the weaker footmen.
You answer with the conscript's ploughshare. Stronger arm at the back of your spear, you raise it overhead and dig into the ground with one shovel-like blow, then raise it with a left-right motion. A cloud of earth and dust sprays over the first rank of bandits, blinding them and filling mouths and noses with dirt; it is only a moment's distraction but it breaks their advance, and in that moment you thrust your spear, once, twice, three times into their front line, reaching the second rank and bringing a dozen men down as arrows rain onto their rear.
You feel two impacts in your shoulderplates - the Iron Raven and his surviving henchman, firing their greatbows. Nothing to do about it for now. As the bandits reform their ranks around the holes you pierced in them, their spears rise and block your next swipe, then they strike at your legs and chest, hoping a chance blow will hobble your armor. No luck on their first pass, but sheer numbers are on their side. You back down against the palisade, a deserter risks himself out of the press and you greet him with a swift kick, sending him tumbling among his men. Not all bravery is rewarded. Two more arrows, then four pierce your chestplate, and from the corner of your eyes you can see the Iron Raven has gathered his cavalry for a second pass. One of the arrows is peeking through your hatch door, looking you in the eye, but its tip is too far to hurt you so you ignore it for now.
Spears clash against spears. You block a dozen blades at once, then return with a blow which shatters three. Five spears breach through your defenses and one of them cuts off another strap of your greaves, which now hangs half-undone, exposing your vulnerable gears. You respond with a sweeping feint which causes the bandits to back down, which you break into a swift thrust that kills two. Two more arrows pierce your arm, and you flinch. This acts as a catalyst for the footmen, who charge you again, recklessly. You lean forward and strike low, cutting three soldiers at the legs; the second rank stumbles on the first and you strike wide and strong, laying low a dozen men. From the palisade, Shidao's men harass the bandits with a constant iron rain, wounding and killing several more. Half the group lays on the ground in various stages of hurting and dying, and the rest fear.
Then as you chance an overhead slash to break the bandits' ranks in the middle, something strange happens: they part like water in front of you and your blow reverberates like a great gong on metal.
Two matched geometric patterns dance before you; a man and a woman holding each a short spear and a metal-rimmed shield, a style almost never seen in the Empire, have blocked your attack by raising their shields together. The bandits part as if out of fear and respect, and Shidao's arrows strike the shields uselessly. The man's beard is red, long and flowing, his wife's hair is tied in long loops flowing down her shoulders and her mouth is painted black.
They split around your sword, shields raised in defense, and thrust their spears at your weakened legs. You step aside, letting their blows ring on steel, then try to slice the man in half; but his shield takes your blow and he resists the impact, his wife taking advantage of it to sleep behind your guard and thrust at your waist, slicing a strap of your breastplate. You move to cover that flank and strike her and she is immediately backing down, dodging your strike. She and her husband meet in front of you, shields raised, and thrust their spears at your chest, the shock of which sends you reeling.
Their shields might resist a sweeping blow, but they will break against a direct thrust, you know this. You step forward and lunge with your spear - but they part around it again and this time close right back in, both their shields slamming on your blade and holding it in place; before you have time to register this they strike on both side of your arms, piercing a leather section, and you feel another string give out. You step back and the battle-couple splits again, running a literal circle around you. They poke from behind their shields, probing for weakness, but you bring your spear close to your chest and draw a circular guard, warding off their weaker attacks. You have lost range and strength on your right arm, and hanging greaves is making your step slow and awkward. They know this. They regroup again in front of you, shields raised, and charge; you thrust again, they split and slam their shields on your spear…
It's what you were looking for. Putting all your bunraku's weight into your still-whole arm, you turn your spear sharply, drawing a spiraling motion in the air; the two warriors cry out as you rip their shields off their arms. You quickly strike left and right from your overextended position, sending them sprawling, but your momentum is by then expended and the blow fails to kill. You step back, dragging your left greave, and watch. For a moment, both of the Old Folk warriors are still; then they stand up, shakily, spear in hand, and glance at their shields and the distance between you…
They each nod, once, and walk away without turning their backs. The moment they fade back into the press of lowly bandits, a murmur goes through their ranks, and within moments they dissolve like water. Men throw their spears to the ground to run more quickly, others stop to rip some trinket off the corpse of a fallen camrades, a handful stop to help a wounded mate up, but in moments they are scattering. In the worst of battles, this is where your side would gather to run them down so that they may not later regroup and fight you again; but your armor is not suited for it, Shidao's men are in no state to do so, and besides-
"No! You will not have this! I will slay your rusted puppet, rip off its facemask and offer it to my lord!"
You turn to face west, where twenty light riders now charge against the setting sun. If they had struck before you would have been overwhelmed, but as you look now you realize. Light cavalry cannot charge an enemy without an open route to escape immediately after striking. Caught between the palisade on one side and the footmen on the other, you were completely surrounded; Iron Raven had no way to strike you without then being bogged down in the press and easily struck down, so he had to wait.
They are charging with fury even as the rest of their troops is routing. The riders hold their yari, straight-bladed spears, but Iron Raven still holds his greatbow and fires, again and again, arrows striking your chestplate, your face, your armored legs, finding no opening.
"Support!" You shout, and Shidao's men find some last strength in them, a volley of arrow that falls upon the riders as they close in. Men fall off their horses but the rest do not see them, driven by fear and bloodlust. Iron Raven tosses his bow without a care, and draws both his blades to strike you down.
They lack the reach.
You strike, a single spear blow, and rip into the flank of Raven's horse. He falls in blood and froth, rolling to the ground. His riders follow him, their spears hitting your flanks, your arms, but they have seen their leader fall, their blows slacken and none hits home. You strike again and more men fall, riderless horses panic and buck, then escape wildly. The riders break rank and run for the hills.
Iron Raven stands up, katana in one hand, wakizashi in the other. His beaked mask has no expression, but his mantle of feathers is stained with the blood of his mount. With a gesture that is almost kind, he kneels and puts his shorter blade through the beast's head, ending its death throes. Then he stands up, alone on the battlefield, and stares into your mask.
You think he is going to say something. Perhaps he opens his mouth behind his mask. Perhaps he is crying, or silently laughing. All you see are the passionless eyes of an iron raven.
He sprints towards you, swords held in an open stance like wings. You lunge again, a single thrusting blow to pierce his armor, but he brings his swords over his head and ducks to the side, catching your blade between his and deflecting it aside. He is inside your guard, stepping aside, and cuts lightly at your half-fallen greave. The straps give; the greave falls. Your leg is unarmored. He strikes with both blades, his one hope to cripple you before you can attack a second time.
But with the steel plate fallen to the ground, your leg is a gracile thing of cloth and wooden cogs, infinitely light. You slide your left foot back and his sword strikes at empty air, his guard is open; you bring your spear back and strike overhead, slicing him from the shoulder to the waist. His armor splits; he falls to his knees.
The battlefield is silent and still. You pause to catch your breath, your armor groaning and creaking around you, a constellation of wounds you can't feel but can sense as slack strings and delayed responses and dragging limbs. In the stillness you can see Shidao and his men watching you; in the silence you can hear Iron Raven's ragged breath.
The man is a ronin, and a defeated commander. He has forsaken the order of the world, chosen to serve bandits, and failed before a blade of imperial blood. He has killed many men - but then so have you. He knows what's coming. Shidao knows what's coming. You know what's coming.
The naginata weighs heavy in your hand.
[ ]Strike him down with Harvest's spear, like a common bandit.
[ ]Exit your bunraku and grant him a honorable death at the hands of another samurai.
[ ]Take him prisoner and bring him to the lord of Summer, who can make a show of his execution or suicide as a warning to all bandits.
Adhoc vote count started by Omicron on Mar 14, 2017 at 4:51 PM, finished with 38 posts and 22 votes.
[X]Exit your bunraku and grant him a honorable death at the hands of another samurai.
[x]Take him prisoner and bring him to the lord of Summer, who can make a show of his execution or suicide as a warning to all bandits.
Now here's a proper toy for the Dragon.
The life or death of a bandit are hardly my concern. On the other hand, the state of our armor, which is the only thing we have, is. He damaged it, so now he will have to pay for its repairs which are likely to be expensive. With his head, if need be.
[x]Take him prisoner and bring him to the lord of Summer, who can make a show of his execution or suicide as a warning to all bandits.
Now here's a proper toy for the Dragon.
The life or death of a bandit are hardly my concern. On the other hand, the state of our armor, which is the only thing we have, is. He damaged it, so now he will have to pay for its repairs which are likely to be expensive. With his head, if need be.
He will absolutely die if you take him prisoner, just as in the other two options. But he will be locked up for a while before that until your new lord decides what to do with him - depending on what exact message he wants to send through a bandit captain's death and/or whether the bandit could reveal anything valuable, that will range from "allowing him to commit ritual suicide" all the way to "extensively tortured, gruesomely murdered, then put on public display."
There is (sadly) no payout option here, although any way he dies you will take his swords as prize and they can fetch a fair sum.
He is not worth more alive to the Dragon than he is dead? I thought interrogation and a public execution would be something he'd prefer, and that could improve the terms of our agreement. He's the only one around here who has the resources to repair our armor anyway.
I guess he'll have to do it anyway if he wants to make use of it, but there's a difference between investment and a fair reward.
Eh, no matter. The choice does not seem to be winning anyway.
He is not worth more alive to the Dragon than he is dead? I thought interrogation and a public execution would be something he'd prefer, and that could improve the terms of our agreement. He's the only one around here who has the resources to repair our armor anyway.
I guess he'll have to do it anyway if he wants to make use of it, but there's a difference between investment and a fair reward.
Eh, no matter. The choice does not seem to be winning anyway.
The lord of summer would appreciate a live prisoner more than a dead enemy. If you want to curry favor with him it's a good way, and I put it in the post with that in mind.
It is fairly rare for a samurai to be captured and offered to an enemy's daimyo in Bunraku's setting for reasons of, well, courtesy. Prisoners who are "merely" noble warriors instead of political lynchpins too precious to kill generally die a harder death in the hands of an enemy lord than they would on the battlefield, so samurai typically execute defeated foes in hopes that others will return the "kindness" should they in turn be defeated.
Taking Iron Raven prisoner is the most ignominous option for him, the one that indicates the least respect - executing him with your bunraku is saying you only consider him a bandit fit for a bandit's death, killing them in person is saying you consider him a fellow samurai, and capturing him is saying you want him to die painfully and abjectly.
