Crafter of War
The Dorf
- Location
- Bend
Seriously? We either failed 7 or 8 rolls out of 9? WTF.
La Chanson de la Victoire (The Song of Victory): La Petite Arpenteuse (Non, SV, you are a General of France in the Napoleonic War!)
- Thread starter Plausbius
- Start date
- Mature Alt. History
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
The rolls have not been kind this tune, but I will say nothing more.
and I will say nothing on how many rolls you actually failed.
for that is for the people with bonuses to decide
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Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
It means we're the superior spinoff that puts the last nail in Akito The Exile's coffin of canonicity. This is how all the wierdness and 'for fun' is explained: We run on anime logic.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
That's the quest in a nutshell.It means we're the superior spinoff that puts the last nail in Akito The Exile's coffin of canonicity. This is how all the wierdness and 'for fun' is explained: We run on anime logic.
- Location
- Hawaii
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
- Location
- Somewhere
I'm fine with anyone using my points, so you guys can decide what you want to do with them, I don't mind.
NoxOfUmbra
Shadow of the night
- Location
- Colombia, South América
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
I'm confused, do you mean +15 here or are you taking points from this action? Is that possible?
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
You want the order to be low.
very low even.
But you are going to need to be the one to tell me where they go.
NoxOfUmbra
Shadow of the night
- Location
- Colombia, South América
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
What do you think of +15 in Chamans, +15 in reprisal, and +15 in the Russian Roulette? Sauce, you have 140+ points, right? How many is acceptable for you?
- Location
- Somewhere
Sure, I never planned to use it anyways.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
I actually tried to, but got board after seeing the clusterfuck that was italy.
Sweet fucking Jesus all those little tiny republics and the border gore.
Fuck that, Napoleon was right, clean up the borders by fucking people up with big fucking armies!
- Location
- leiden (NL)
I believe Order is one we want to be low (QM, confirm, please?).
Does that mean you want to create Problems for us (ie do you mean it as a +10 on the roll or a minus 10)?
Is that a Mistake? I hope you mean +15 on the Maintaining Order-Action.
Because otherwise, you're sabotaging the Quest by trying to make sure that we crit-fail a Roll. And that is INCREDIBLY douchy.
EDIT: Okay, apparently, I got this wrong. Sorry.
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No, I meant the ACTION Maintaining Order. The one that knocks the Sicilian Backlash-Roll down by 20 if it succeeds.
Reaping the Harvest (AvidFicReader)
- Location
- Hawaii
Reaping the Harvest
Colonel Denis Martin Severin glared out disapprovingly at the scene before him. A great host of soldats from II Corps, the Reserve and Guard had descended like locusts on the estates outside of Messina. The only thing keeping Severin from laying into them was the battle- no the slaughter- had ended naught but an hour ago, with few Neapolitans escaping. Severin could understand the desire for loot, seeing as France wasn't in the best place to pay it's soldats. But at present, he had a man to find and restrain. Currently, following the trail of non-uniformed bodies was his only lead.
"Damnit, Antoine, aren't you an intellectual? Don't you know there's an order to pillaging? It's loot, then burn!"
As the roof of the manor house caught alight in spite of the storm, all but the bravest or most foolhardy soldats came spilling back out into the storm. Off to the side, a similarly smouldering cottage belched smoke and steam, a sure indicator of a fire burning within. Marching past it through the corpse-strewn dirt path turned river of mud, Severin caught an unusual sound. Over the howling wind and pelting rain, over the crackling of flames, he heard it. The terrified cries of a child.
While he didn't understand the words, the fear and terror in that young voice tugged at his heart strings. Severin was immediately reminded of his son, waiting safely in the fleet with Therese and Louis. This trapped child could easily be Charles Leon, were the situations reversed.
Kicking the door in, a wave of smoke and heat assaulted Severin, who quickly wrapped his sodden coat over his mouth and nose. Taking a moment to survey the cottage, he immediately noted the interior was awash with flame. Two fallen bodies laid right next to the door, and judging by the lack of screams from the flames eating at their clothing, they had been dead for some time now. Searching desperately for the weakening voice, he noticed a quivering form huddled under the dinner table. Severin called for the boy to come to him, but his only response was unintelligible jabbering in Sicilian.
"Damn it, why couldn't it be easy? French, boy! Do you speak it?" More babble answers him, this time, Italian.
"Damnit, boy, I don't speak Pasta! Get over here!" The child frantically shakes his head as terror grips him once again in the face of a huge, bloodstained Frenchman shouting angrily at him.
"Fine, I'll get you myself!" Severin angrily kicks one of the burning bodies to brace the door open as he charges into the blazing inferno. Flipping the table littered with burning thatch and food, Severin hefts the now desperately flailing and screaming child under his arm like a sack, before rushing for the door as more and more of the burning roof falls around him. Having escaped to the dubious safety of the storm outside, he none-too-gently tosses the boy into a nearby mud puddle, letting the rain and wind cool him and wash the soot and ash from his face.
The boy hurriedly scrambles away from his rescuer/tormentor in a panic until he backs into a fence. At this point, he stares at the gilded hilt of the saber affixed at Severin's hip, once more breaking into an stream of incomprehensible babble.
Now thoroughly fed up with the situation as Chamans grows further and further from his reach, Severin calls the nearby soldats to attention in his best irate sergeant voice.
"Oi! One of you lads speak Pasta? I have no idea what this boy is saying, but he's sure saying a lot of it!" Severin's attention is diverted from any response by a small rock hitting him on the back his head. Turning around, he is greeted by the boy jabbering angrily at him pointing at the sword and gesticulating wildly. A corporal steps forward to translate.
"Serg- er, Colonel, the boy wants to know who you are and why you have his uncle's sword. He says he recognizes it because his uncle showed it off to him not a month ago, and he boasted that the design on the hilt was unique."
"Well, shit. How am I supposed to tell this boy I left his uncle with a broken neck on the muddy battlefield? And after watching his parents die in front of him, too. 'At least this sword didn't cost him an arm and a leg?' No, that's way too insensitive, even for me. Maybe I'll just make him Antoine's problem, teach him not to massacre non-combatants by making him look after a kid. I'll tell him he's following the trend Therese set with the royals if he complains." Turning to the child, Severin asks: "Well, boy, it looks like you're coming with me. What's your name?" Once the corporal translates the question, the boy responds mutinously.
"Julian Minci."
Colonel Denis Martin Severin glared out disapprovingly at the scene before him. A great host of soldats from II Corps, the Reserve and Guard had descended like locusts on the estates outside of Messina. The only thing keeping Severin from laying into them was the battle- no the slaughter- had ended naught but an hour ago, with few Neapolitans escaping. Severin could understand the desire for loot, seeing as France wasn't in the best place to pay it's soldats. But at present, he had a man to find and restrain. Currently, following the trail of non-uniformed bodies was his only lead.
"Damnit, Antoine, aren't you an intellectual? Don't you know there's an order to pillaging? It's loot, then burn!"
As the roof of the manor house caught alight in spite of the storm, all but the bravest or most foolhardy soldats came spilling back out into the storm. Off to the side, a similarly smouldering cottage belched smoke and steam, a sure indicator of a fire burning within. Marching past it through the corpse-strewn dirt path turned river of mud, Severin caught an unusual sound. Over the howling wind and pelting rain, over the crackling of flames, he heard it. The terrified cries of a child.
While he didn't understand the words, the fear and terror in that young voice tugged at his heart strings. Severin was immediately reminded of his son, waiting safely in the fleet with Therese and Louis. This trapped child could easily be Charles Leon, were the situations reversed.
Kicking the door in, a wave of smoke and heat assaulted Severin, who quickly wrapped his sodden coat over his mouth and nose. Taking a moment to survey the cottage, he immediately noted the interior was awash with flame. Two fallen bodies laid right next to the door, and judging by the lack of screams from the flames eating at their clothing, they had been dead for some time now. Searching desperately for the weakening voice, he noticed a quivering form huddled under the dinner table. Severin called for the boy to come to him, but his only response was unintelligible jabbering in Sicilian.
"Damn it, why couldn't it be easy? French, boy! Do you speak it?" More babble answers him, this time, Italian.
"Damnit, boy, I don't speak Pasta! Get over here!" The child frantically shakes his head as terror grips him once again in the face of a huge, bloodstained Frenchman shouting angrily at him.
"Fine, I'll get you myself!" Severin angrily kicks one of the burning bodies to brace the door open as he charges into the blazing inferno. Flipping the table littered with burning thatch and food, Severin hefts the now desperately flailing and screaming child under his arm like a sack, before rushing for the door as more and more of the burning roof falls around him. Having escaped to the dubious safety of the storm outside, he none-too-gently tosses the boy into a nearby mud puddle, letting the rain and wind cool him and wash the soot and ash from his face.
The boy hurriedly scrambles away from his rescuer/tormentor in a panic until he backs into a fence. At this point, he stares at the gilded hilt of the saber affixed at Severin's hip, once more breaking into an stream of incomprehensible babble.
Now thoroughly fed up with the situation as Chamans grows further and further from his reach, Severin calls the nearby soldats to attention in his best irate sergeant voice.
"Oi! One of you lads speak Pasta? I have no idea what this boy is saying, but he's sure saying a lot of it!" Severin's attention is diverted from any response by a small rock hitting him on the back his head. Turning around, he is greeted by the boy jabbering angrily at him pointing at the sword and gesticulating wildly. A corporal steps forward to translate.
"Serg- er, Colonel, the boy wants to know who you are and why you have his uncle's sword. He says he recognizes it because his uncle showed it off to him not a month ago, and he boasted that the design on the hilt was unique."
"Well, shit. How am I supposed to tell this boy I left his uncle with a broken neck on the muddy battlefield? And after watching his parents die in front of him, too. 'At least this sword didn't cost him an arm and a leg?' No, that's way too insensitive, even for me. Maybe I'll just make him Antoine's problem, teach him not to massacre non-combatants by making him look after a kid. I'll tell him he's following the trend Therese set with the royals if he complains." Turning to the child, Severin asks: "Well, boy, it looks like you're coming with me. What's your name?" Once the corporal translates the question, the boy responds mutinously.
"Julian Minci."
I know I promised a pov piece for the officers of II Corps on the battle, but this was a wild plot bunny that wouldn't let me go. Severin's got a skewed sense of priorities and morality, given his family's long tradition in the military. Looting is part of war, it's just something that happens, and it's a way for soldiers to earn wealth when pay is not steady or guaranteed. To him, the slaughter of civilians is distasteful, even unsporting. Soldiers, even conscripts, fight and die for king and country, but civilians just happen to be there. Take their stuff, sure. Rape happens, and as much as he wishes it didn't and tries to stomp it out, he can't prevent it completely, only punish the rapists. But killing them isn't glorious victory in battle triumphing over your enemy. To Severin, it's senseless and pointless violence, even wasteful.
Chamans can join parenting club in the Army of the Orient as his penance. Julian Minci is a character from Legend of the Galactic Heroes who eventually becomes a badass, but he starts as a young orphan eager to prove himself.
As for Louis and Therese being safe in the fleet; oh, if only you knew, Severin.
Chamans can join parenting club in the Army of the Orient as his penance. Julian Minci is a character from Legend of the Galactic Heroes who eventually becomes a badass, but he starts as a young orphan eager to prove himself.
As for Louis and Therese being safe in the fleet; oh, if only you knew, Severin.
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Also, @Magoose, since @SzechuanSauce gave up his Omake Points for free use, I'll use 40 of them on the Talking to Louis Roll to cap it's aplliable Bonus out at +50.
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They
Just putting a Omake Idea out there for anyone since I am not that great at writing.
Louis-Charles Capet as the Doom Slayer since he is so angry.
Louis-Charles Capet as the Doom Slayer since he is so angry.
- Location
- Somewhere
You wanna traumatize him even more?
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They
Nah just found similarities in their shared anger.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
The action you want to succeed, but maintaining order roll itself you want to keep low.
Well... I should have known LOGH would show up here eventually.
+10 to the rolls.
Also @SzechuanSauce Where do you want those bonuses that people are offering to use? Give me a name and it's done.
- Location
- alphen aan den rijn
halve tempted to email red too see if she do this for real but i`m pretty sure she would not.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
I would love to hear about that!