La Chanson de la Victoire (The Song of Victory): La Petite Arpenteuse (Non, SV, you are a General of France in the Napoleonic War!)

Parlez-vous français?

  • Oui, je parle très bien français!

    Votes: 162 14.2%

  • Un peu.

    Votes: 189 16.6%

  • What? Francis? Nope.

    Votes: 331 29.1%

  • What? Oh, don't be silly, my dear!

    Votes: 161 14.2%

  • ¿El español es lo suficientemente bueno?

    Votes: 86 7.6%

  • Ich verstehe dich irgendwie.

    Votes: 64 5.6%

  • Я очень хорошо говорю по-русски.

    Votes: 64 5.6%

  • 我听不懂。

    Votes: 35 3.1%

  • 何を言っているのですか？

    Votes: 28 2.5%

  • nuqneH pa'!

    Votes: 10 0.9%

  • فرانسه بلدنستم

    Votes: 7 0.6%
  • Total voters
    1,137
Reader mode
Plausitivity said:
You know military casualties from training exist, right? Also unsanitary conditions, leading to disease, leading to death.
Safe from enemies, yes. Safe from yourself, no.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

Except Gentle is also the option that should reduce the amount of military casualties if any of the options do so, since there is no lower training quality like harsh has.

Now the unsanitary conditions section is valid on the face of it. Except that we already have 2 of our officer staff dealing with the logistical front in Chamans and De Lisle, and we are already talking to Severin, which are the two areas where such an issue would likely originate from or let us be informed about it.

Since even if such a thing is brewing, since Severin is in charge of training the troops and the supply manager, he'll likely inform us if people are falling ill. So talking to either group would let us start heading any issues on that front off, and I trust in our officers frankly. Even if we hadn't decided to talk to any of them, they likely would still inform us of any issues brewing within the camp.

So it's an important concern certainly, just not one I think we would reasonably be caught out by here.
 
Pawn Lelouch said:
Except Gentle is also the option that should reduce the amount of military casualties if any of the options do so, since there is no lower training quality like harsh has.

Now the unsanitary conditions section is valid on the face of it. Except that we already have 2 of our officer staff dealing with the logistical front in Chamans and De Lisle, and we are already talking to Severin, which are the two areas where such an issue would likely originate from or let us be informed about it.

Since even if such a thing is brewing, since Severin is in charge of training the troops and the supply manager, he'll likely inform us if people are falling ill. So talking to either group would let us start heading any issues on that front off, and I trust in our officers frankly. Even if we hadn't decided to talk to any of them, they likely would still inform us of any issues brewing within the camp.

So it's an important concern certainly, just not one I think we would reasonably be caught out by here.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Okay, smartass :V
 
It's a long night, ja Hans? Want to see a portrait of my girl?

Hans (for it is he) : Stop that Gunter! I've no wish to get attached to your intended in any way. Besides, that is the sort of talk between sentries that distracts them just as the enemy is posed to attack.

Gunter (the same one) : Ach, there is no chance of the enemy attacking tonight, they are too sensible. They are probably asleep in bed somewhere. I wish I was in bed somewhere...

Hans : And I wish you were asleep. Enough about your girlfriend.

Gunter: Seriously though, I would welcome an attack. All this time waiting is making me nervous. Do they really have such a large build-up?

Hans: Relax, they are just licking their wounds and being cautious. They lack the supplies to attack all the time anyway.

Gunter: I suppose that's true. I hope they forget they are at war.

Hans: I hope you remember we are at war and stay alert.

Gunter: Oh, so now you want me awake?

<grumbling continues into the night>
 
Last edited:
Tjakari said:
I think @perfectgeneral just mispelled "Ja" in his comment. I think that was about a soldier showing another soldier a picture of his girl. How a soldier accomplished this in 1793 is nothing short of a technological miracle. But it's hardly the least realistic thing that happened in this quest.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Jes it is quiet along the Rhine. Too quiet.

A portrait is a picture too, but I corrected that and some typo/errors.
 
Last edited:
Summer Morning On the Rhine (Tjakari)
  • Sidestory
    • perfectgeneral said:
    Jes it is quiet along the Rhine. Too quiet.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Impromptu Omake: Summer Morning On the Rhine

    The exercises that Thérèse had recommended weren't doing much for her physique. That was the honest truth.

    However much la générale may have contested the point, Charlotte's progress had been pitifully slow.

    A word of reassurance here or there and some practical advice just wasn't quite the motivation that Thérèse thought it was.

    It was helpful, sure. A change of form to an exercise could cause injuries if one wasn't careful. If nothing else did, Charlotte's wrists thanked Thérèse for their good health; elewise she couldn't have continued trying as long as she had.

    The rest of her was hardly as thankful.

    Though In her mind, continuing at all had to be some form of gratitude.

    Perhaps it was a cruel joke or perhaps it was just a test, but the progress of a boy half her age with just a practice sword had been something of a blow to what was left of Charlotte's confidence. In her physical aspects, at least. The image of the young Louis playing around in the yard like he'd found his calling was just as likely to inspire a fond smile as it was spark a bout of melancholy.

    The last few weeks had done a great deal to reinforce a number of self-regarding prejudices. Were it not for the titaness (and she would use no less a word for her guardian angel) looming over her like an aegis, she'd almost believe that to be a woman was to be helplessness incarnate.

    It would have been easier to quit were she in another's care, someone more traditional, someone Charlotte was less attached to.

    She'd have been more than happy to leave the exercises to Louise; boys are more fit for this kind of toil anyways, she thought.

    But here she was, on a summer morning, the dirt digging into her palms, as she dragged herself through her painful morning rituals. If only Thérèse weren't so damned earnest, so kind; she could just go back to her tent and revel in her reading.

    But no.

    That woman could not be denied.

    She cared too much, had done too much.

    The girl supposed that the price for that kindness was the pain in her sinews, the raw aching in the arms and elsewhere.

    In light of a whole number things that crept at the edge of her mind, this was hardly a price at all.

    True, her regimen was thorough, but it wasn't a death sentence. She might not be swinging any swords, but her stamina was growing by the day. And most of all, she would live, she was living.

    She tried very well not to forget that.

    On days like these, there were no daydreams of Versailles.

    No flashbacks to the mobs.

    No passing thoughts of her mother. Or her father for that matter.

    The therapeutic functions of the exercise were something that Charlotte hadn't thought to put to words, not yet.
    But, she understood the effect this time had on her.

    She quite liked it. The only shame was the process to get there.

    The aching and the moving and the working kept her mind occupied. So long as the body was exhausted, the mind had no time to indulge her fears and deeper desires, impossible desires.

    That off her back, she was starting to feel alive again.

    The threats in the world hadn't been this far away in a long time. Since they've been in Metz, the future has been brighter.

    It was nice to let the tears lie for once.
     
    Last edited:
  • Sidestory
    • A Moment In Life: Brian Auclair (Magoose)
  • Sidestory
    • A Moment In Life: Brian Auclair:

    You felt a strange pain in your leg, a pain that was a sinking feeling of being lost and shot. You had not felt that pain in a very long time, since you were a boy when you were lucky to stay in one home for longer than a month.

    It was the pain of fear and anxiety in your legs. A pain you had sworn to never feel again when you continued your work as a surveyor… and then as an officer. It was a remarkable skill to have, not having any fear. It gave the men confidence, it gave you confidence.

    It made you seem like more of a giant than you already were. A man without fear.

    Yet you always had the thoughts of doubts, of lies you told yourself, as you prepared for battle, of prayers for God to grant mercy onto your soul for absolution.

    But here, in Paris, in this shinning city, all you saw was a festering rot, set to tear itself apart. The men fought in the streets for bread, the woman sold themselves for wine and the children steal away what little from the stalls that are not completely broken by the taxes and levy's demanding them for the war effort.

    It disgusted you. What rewards were worth a people to suffer in perpetuity, while men die and suffer in battle and war.

    The ideas of the republic, the ideas of men being treated as equals… was something so beautiful on paper, to espoused by the like-minded academics who wanted to see such a change.

    America had seen success across the ocean after all. Why couldn't a great and powerful nation like France be any different?

    The answer was in the Vendee. People who wanted the old ways to stay, not because they were oppressive, which they certainly were, but because they were not new, not foreign… not radical. They saw the king, not just as a man, a servant of the state, but as a near god, endowed by God to rule… they were seen as better than normal people.

    Of course, while the folly they had was quite innumerable… these people had never experienced change on this magnitude… and it frightened them.

    Now here… you would do what you can to help people… perhaps to see them change, and grow, and see themselves not as servants of the state, but as the state itself.

    A nation was it's people. The only way a people could survive such turmoil was to have the ability to change… and if that change did not become accepted by the people, they should have the right to change.

    The Rest of Europe certainly did not accept the French people deciding that they did not want a monarchy.

    Although, executing the king certainly didn't help the rest of Europe see the new republic as nothing more then a jump up revolt.

    It does not matter now… you had a duty to fulfill for France.

    And it would be a duty you would gladly fulfill.
     
  • Sidestory
    • Since we're doing omake's, I'd like to try some Brian Auclair Injustice 2 Dialogues.

    Brian: "The Kryptonian Robespierre."
    Superman: "He fought for something better, didn't he?"
    Brian: "You have his flaws, but none of his virtues."

    Brian: "I've met many people like you."
    Superman: "Trust me, I'm nothing like them."
    Brian: "That's what they all say."

    Brian: "You'd like my sister."
    Wonder Woman: "She's a fine woman."
    Brian: "But she wouldn't like you."

    Brian: "What you've done is wrong."
    Wonder Woman: "What I've done was for the best."
    Brian: "Does that help you sleep at night?"

    Brian: "The bow and arrow is outdated."
    Green Arrow: "So is the saber."
    Brian: "Point, taken."

    All I got for now, feel free to make some of your own.
     
    Sorry y'all, some other stuff piled up and I need to take care of it before my mind can recover properly to write stuff properly.
    Tjakari said:
    Impromptu Omake: Summer Morning On the Rhine

    The exercises that Thérèse had recommended weren't doing much for her physique. That was the honest truth.

    However much la générale may have contested the point, Charlotte's progress had been pitifully slow.

    A word of reassurance here or there and some practical advice just wasn't quite the motivation that Thérèse thought it was.

    It was helpful, sure. A change of form to an exercise could cause injuries if one wasn't careful. If nothing else did, Charlotte's wrists thanked Thérèse for their good health; elewise she couldn't have continued trying as long as she had. The rest of her was hardly as thankful. Though In her mind, continuing at all was a form of gratitude.

    Perhaps it was a cruel joke. Perhaps it was just a test, but the progress of a boy half her age with just a practice sword had been something of a blow to what was left of Charlotte's confidence. At least in her physical aspects. The image of the young Louis playing around in the yard like he'd found his calling was just as likely to inspire a fond smile as it was spark a bout of melancholy.

    The last few weeks had done a great deal to reinforce a number of self-regarding prejudices. Were it not for the titaness ( andshe would use no less a word for her guardian angel) looming over her like an aegis, she'd almost believe that to be a woman was to be helplessness incarnate.

    It would have been easier to quit were she in another's care, someone more traditional, someone Charlotte was less attached to.

    She'd have been more than happy to leave the exercises to Louise; boys are more fit for this kind of toil anyways, she thought.

    But here she was, on a summer morning, the dirt digging into her palms, as she dragged herself through her painful morning rituals. If only Therese weren't so damned earnest, so kind, she could just go back to her tent and revel in her reading. But no, that woman could not be denied. She cared too much, had done too much.

    The girl supposed that the price for that kindness was the pains in her sinews, the raw aching in the arms and elsewhere. In light of a whole number things that crept at the edge of her mind, this was hardly a price at all.

    True, her regimen was thorough, but it wasn't a death sentence. She might not be swinging any swords, but her stamina was growing by the day and she would live. She tried very well not to forget that.

    On days like these, there were no daydreams of Versailles.

    No flashbacks to the mobs.

    No passing thoughts of her mother. Or her father for that matter.

    The therapeutic functions of the exercise were something that Charlotte hadn't thought to put to words yet. But, she understood the effect this time had on her, and she quite liked it. The only shame was the process to get there.

    The aching and the moving and the working kept her mind occupied. So long as the body was exhausted, the mind had no time to indulge her fears and deeper desires, impossible desires.

    That off her back, she was starting to feel alive again.

    The threats in the world hadn't been this far away in a long time. Since they've been in Metz, the future has been brighter.

    It was nice to let the tears lie for once.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Very nice! Gives me some goosebumps, ngl. +15.
    Magoose said:
    A Moment In Life: Brian Auclair:

    You felt a strange pain in your leg, a pain that was a sinking feeling of being lost and shot. You had not felt that pain in a very long time, since you were a boy when you were lucky to stay in one home for longer than a month.

    It was the pain of fear and anxiety in your legs. A pain you had sworn to never feel again when you continued your work as a surveyor… and then as an officer. It was a remarkable skill to have, not having any fear. It gave the men confidence, it gave you confidence.

    It made you seem like more of a giant than you already were. A man without fear.

    Yet you always had the thoughts of doubts, of lies you told yourself, as you prepared for battle, of prayers for God to grant mercy onto your soul for absolution.

    But here, in Paris, in this shinning city, all you saw was a festering rot, set to tear itself apart. The men fought in the streets for bread, the woman sold themselves for wine and the children steal away what little from the stalls that are not completely broken by the taxes and levy's demanding them for the war effort.

    It disgusted you. What rewards were worth a people to suffer in perpetuity, while men die and suffer in battle and war.

    The ideas of the republic, the ideas of men being treated as equals… was something so beautiful on paper, to espoused by the like-minded academics who wanted to see such a change.

    America had seen success across the ocean after all. Why couldn't a great and powerful nation like France be any different?

    The answer was in the Vendee. People who wanted the old ways to stay, not because they were oppressive, which they certainly were, but because they were not new, not foreign… not radical. They saw the king, not just as a man, a servant of the state, but as a near god, endowed by God to rule… they were seen as better than normal people.

    Of course, while the folly they had was quite innumerable… these people had never experienced change on this magnitude… and it frightened them.

    Now here… you would do what you can to help people… perhaps to see them change, and grow, and see themselves not as servants of the state, but as the state itself.

    A nation was it's people. The only way a people could survive such turmoil was to have the ability to change… and if that change did not become accepted by the people, they should have the right to change.

    The Rest of Europe certainly did not accept the French people deciding that they did not want a monarchy.

    Although, executing the king certainly didn't help the rest of Europe see the new republic as nothing more then a jump up revolt.

    It does not matter now… you had a duty to fulfill for France.

    And it would be a duty you would gladly fulfill.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Nice, uhh, +19.95 to you, all for the low low price of one omake!
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Back
    Top