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Let's Play: Cataphrak's Dragoon Saga

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Sabres 1.06
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    • [X] Stay behind: I must try to help Elson.
    As a result of his heroism, the Reputation of Alaric d'al Castleton now sits at 30%, and his Idealism is now 59%. Mercy now wins out over Ruthlessness by 8%.
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    You rein your horse in and turn around, right into the huge dust cloud following the charging regiment. You stumble out, your eyes burning and your throat raw from coughing.

    Elson's horse barrels out of the dust a few paces in front of you, bucking wildly. The young aristocrat's limp body still hangs from the stirrup, flung to and fro by his rampant mount's wild twisting and turning.

    Your hand lashes out quickly as you bring your horse alongside. With a sharp tug on the reins, you bring the wildly thrashing horse to heel. Carefully, you are able to calm Elson's mount down enough to dismount and pull its unconscious rider from the stirrup. With a quick glance, you are able to identify your fallen comrade's injuries. Tearing strips from his undershirt, you improvise a crude bandage to stop the bleeding from the wide gash on Elson's forehead.

    By the time the healers arrive, you have the situation well in hand. The uniformed banehealers thank you for your quick intervention and hurry Elson off to the infirmary.

    When he wakes at the end of the day, Elson sends for you. When you arrive, he offers his personal thanks. The healers credit your rapid reaction for the young aristocrat's quick recovery and write you a personal commendation.

    Montez proves less angry at your choices during the exercise than you had feared. While he seems quite annoyed at your choice to prioritize the well-being of a very junior officer before the overall objective, he does not seem as entirely displeased with you as the circumstances would seem to demand. He gives you a rather limp lecture on maintaining priorities in battle. With a weary dismissal, he orders you out of his office, but before you reach the door, he fires off one last parting shot.

    "Cornet Castleton, what you did this morning was a display of initiative and quick thinking far above the call of duty. It was an action which places you among the ranks of the finest of men."

    Montez gives a thin smile, something in-between a grimace and a smirk.

    "Don't do it again."

    Strangely enough, your heroic action seems to have denied Cazarosta his promotion: When the promotion board heard about your heroic actions, some voted to brevet you instead. Eventually, the board tied and ended up promoting neither of you.

    -​

    A few days later, you wake to the steady roll of a kettle drum. Dressed and equipped, you step out onto the open sea-side parapet to behold the lean, dark forms of half a dozen warships, each flying the tower and gryphon of the Royal Tierran Navy.

    The parade grounds are full of horses, men, and equipment being loaded onto boats for the short trip over the water to the waiting ships. You are ordered to gather up your pack and join your squadron in preparation for the same.

    You are taken aboard one of the boats with a dozen other men of your squadron. The trip to your transport is slow, but the wind is relatively light, and the receding tide helps you on your way out.

    The warship assigned to carry you to Antar is the HMS Victorious, a predatory-looking frigate of forty-four guns. The Captain is a thin, balding Aetorian named Walken. He welcomes you aboard with a short, perfunctory speech and has his petty officers assign you quarters. As an officer, you are allowed the privilege of sharing a small quarterdeck cabin with Elson and Cazarosta, as opposed to the gundeck hammocks to which the enlisted men will be relegated.

    The ship's bell rings just as the three of you arrive in your new temporary quarters. The deck above your head reverberates with the rhythm of bare feet on wood. You hear the Captain's muffled voice giving orders to cast off.

    You come back on deck in time to see the Victorious' sails unfurl. All along the coast, the ships of your convoy cast off in an attempt to make it into the open sea before the tide turns against them. You watch from the quarterdeck as the Victorious takes its position at the rear of the column and as she takes you away from the receding coast of Tierra and off to war.
     
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    • Sabres 2.01
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    • Chapter II
    Being the story of the cavalry officer's voyage aboard His Majesty's Ship VICTORIOUS and the events which did there take place.    ​

    The first few days of your sea voyage could not possibly be counted as eventful. The hours are parcelled into an endless cycle of drums and bells with only the pendulous back-and-forth movement of the deck as proof that you are even travelling at all. Elson spends most of his time heaving his guts out over the railing.

    Cazarosta passes his days either entirely engrossed in silent prayer or face-deep in his books: namely, histories of the League of Antar and its component peoples. While it is no doubt good to learn about your enemy, it does not make him any more sociable.

    The sailors are, to a man, too busy to pay attention to the spurious questionings of a band of turf-loving fops.

    Of HMS Victorious' company of some four hundred men and officers, only the half-company of grim, stolid Royal Marines pay you and your fellow Dragoons any heed. Despite the normal interservice rivalry which tends to crop up between the Royal Marines and the rest of the army, they are more than happy to show you some guidance when it comes to navigating the seedier aspects of the soldier's trade.

    What do you do in the first few days of your sea journey?

    [] Pick up some fighting tips from the Marines.
    [] Try to socialize with the common sailors.
    [] Make conversation with the ship's officers.
    [] I brush up on my knowledge of the League of Antar.
     
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    • [x] Pick up some fighting tips from the Marines.

    I know intellect build is kinda op, but I think it just practical to ask people who actually have expertise fighting for advice.
     
    IamtooSleepy said:
    I know intellect build is kinda op, but I think it just practical to ask people who actually have expertise fighting for advice.
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    While that is sound advice, keep in mind that for this situation you're asking sailors who learned how to fight at sea for advice. Land and sea combat are two very different beasts, but let's assume it's just close quarter combat. There are going to be good and tricks that just won't translate.
    If ships get into boarding range the whole thing usually devolves into a mosh pit, very unlike the regimented army fighting formations. It's not like in the movies where every fighter breaks off and has 1 vs 1 with each other. It would look more like two rugby teams trying to stab each other behind shields.

    Anyways, not a bad idea, just not one I'm interested in. To be honest somewhat of what I said could be wrong since I can't remember how prevalent guns are in this setting.
     
    Sabres 2.02
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    • [X] I brush up on my knowledge of the League of Antar.
    Since he hit the books, Alaric now has 66% in Intellect.
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    You manage to borrow a few charts and texts from the Victorious' midshipmen and begin the process of getting to know your enemy.

    ​

    The League of Antar is a vast nation comprising the whole of the Calligian continent, where Northern civilization first arose. While once ruled by an imperial family, the Antari now swear fealty to no monarch, instead being governed by the League Congress, an assembly of several hundred noble lords, each with the right to vote and veto each other's motions in the assembly chamber.

    You also learn about the Antari way of war, not much removed from the Takaran-descended doctrine the King's army uses, but one which places less emphasis on infantry and more on heavy cavalry: namely, the powerful noble-born Church Hussars, with their baneruned banded mail and arcs of feather and steel lashed to their saddles and made to look like angels' wings.

    ​

    Over the next few days, as you study the history of your enemy, you realize that the Antari are less different than you had thought. They too rebelled against tyrants, fought to unify their lands, and had great men and women whose martyrdoms elevated them to sainthood. It almost seems a pity that your nations, so alike in many ways, must be at war….

    Almost.

    -​

    In the early morning of your fifth day at sea, you awake to the sounds of drums and the louder, deeper beat of someone frantically pounding at your door.

    It is one of the Victorious' midshipmen. In a squeaky, terrified voice, he announces that the Victorious has sighted a merchantman flying the white eagle on red of the League of Antar. The boy, barely twelve, tells you that Captain Walken has made the decision to break off from the rest of the flotilla and engage the enemy vessel directly.

    As you walk up onto the quarterdeck, you can hear the Victorious' captain laying out the situation plainly, both to his own lieutenants and your own senior officers. A fat, slow merchant vessel would be an excellent source of prize money; both the cargo and the heavy, capacious hull of the captured vessel itself would be worth a substantial amount of cash once she is sailed back to a Tierran port and sold.

    However, he notes sourly that no Antari merchant vessel would be so stupid as to travel unescorted, especially this close to the Tierran naval base at Northern Pillars. He quickly concludes that the vessel is likely a trap: packed to the brim with heavily armed Antari soldiers ready to overwhelm any boarding party.

    Despite the protests of his own officers, you hear him insist that the risk is worth the reward. He restates his orders to capture the enemy vessel.

    Within half an hour, you see the Antari vessel for yourself. She is a lubberly, ungainly thing floating low in the water.

    As the minutes pass, it becomes clear that the Antari vessel will not escape. Its hull is too fat and the sail plan it carries was obsolete half a century ago. As you draw closer, you can see the deck of the merchant vessel. Her raised forecastle and quarterdeck are overflowing with mobs of Antari sailors, armed with clubs, axes, cutlasses, and a smattering of muskets. They are hardly a professional fighting force, but it is clear that they plan on defending their ship to the death.

    A pair of marines rush past you, long rifled muskets hanging off their backs: snipers. They grab onto the rigging and begin climbing up the ropes with simian grace. Your eyes follow them as they hoist themselves up to the tops of the mizzen mast, passing the half-dozen marines already in position in the rigging.

    Suddenly, a puff of smoke issues from the form of one of the Marines. A sharp crack echoes across the deck. The Antari at the wheel of the other ship clutches his forehead and falls to the deck, his face a ruin. More gunshots ring out, and more Antari die.

    The Antari merchantman is barely a few hundred metres away. From your position on deck, you can see its ragged crew bracing themselves for a boarding action. Even from this distance, you can hear their taunts and prayers in their alien tongue.

    The thunder of a broadside issues from the Victorious' guns. The Antari vessel is showered in gore as grapeshot tears apart those crewmen unlucky enough to be caught in the open.

    The Victorious' deck, already cleared for action, is filling with the orange-coated bodies of two dozen barefooted marines, assembled in ranks, muskets in hand. You realize with a start that a few of your fellow Dragoons, Elson, and Cazarosta among them, are rushing in to fill out their ranks. Each new addition is given a warm nod and a slap on the back from the grizzled salt-and-pepper-haired marine sergeant leading the boarding party.

    The lieutenant watching beside you grimaces. "Poor stupid fools. Captain Walken said he'd give any volunteer a cut of the prize. Bloody stupid. Men without their sea legs have no place in a boarding action. They'll just get themselves killed."

    The naval officer has a point. The deck still feels slick and unsteady under your feet.

    The lieutenant leans forward, squinting as if he cannot believe his own eyes. "Saints have mercy. I think one of your friends is trying to convince poor Sergeant Toriston to let him lead the action." You look down to see Cazarosta pushing himself to the head of the formation, towards the NCO readying to board. The lieutenant's frustration and shock are palpable. No matter how veteran the Victorious' Marine sergeant is, he would have no choice but to give way to a commissioned officer, no matter how junior.

    Including you, in fact, if you had a mind to lead yourself.

    You decide to:
    [] Take command! We should not leave the conduct of the battle to a mere sergeant!
    [] Join the boarding party. I will show them the stuff that Royal Dragoons are made out of!
    [] Go below decks. I shouldn't get in the way. The marines are trained for this sort of thing, I'm not.
    [] Try to talk the other Dragoons in the boarding party out of it. They'll only get themselves killed.
    A word of advice: you're not going to get very far in your military career if you play it safe all the time.
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    • [X] Take command! We should not leave the conduct of the battle to a mere sergeant!

    I think this best fits our build, maybe? Also we don't have our sea legs, so we should definitely if we're taking command be more, y'know... leader and less Head Fighter.
     
    [X] Take command! We should not leave the conduct of the battle to a mere sergeant!
    The MC is a smart and a strategist first and foremost, but he's socially competent. This is his build's purpose.
     
    [X] Take command! We should not leave the conduct of the battle to a mere sergeant!

    Let's do it! We want to be a commander of men no better time than to show that now when a clear line of command is not present.
     
    [X] Take command! We should not leave the conduct of the battle to a mere sergeant!

    There is, perhaps, something to be said about a completely inexperience aristocratic newly commissioned officer pulling the rank and take command from someone who most likely is much more qualified because he can't imagine commoner NCO leading men into battle. Then again, no one (important) has ever said Royal Tierran Army is a professional one.

    Also, having our first decorations being given for boarding action of all thing as a cavalry officer will never not be funny.
     
    IamtooSleepy said:
    Also, having our first decorations being given for boarding action of all thing as a cavalry officer will never not be funny.
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    My first thought was 'How could they have possibly used horses on open water?' My mind than formulated the following answers.

    —Illogical answer, magic horseshoes!

    —Logical answer, dismounted cavalrymen were used as infantry in a boarding action on a boat.

    —Historical answer, Xerxes' Pontoon Bridge and a cavalry charge!
     
    Sabres 2.03
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    • [X] Take command! We should not leave the conduct of the battle to a mere sergeant!
    It's a good thing you guys decided to save Elson, because otherwise, Cazarosta would've led the boarding party as brevet lieutenant.
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    You walk up to the Marine sergeant leading the party just as Cazarosta approaches from the other side.

    Before you can say anything, Cazarosta taps the sergeant on the shoulder and points at you.

    "Sergeant," he begins. "Allow Cornet Castleton to lead the boarding party."

    The sergeant scowls, but Cazarosta cuts him off with that same flat, icy glare you have seen so often.

    "Sergeant, you will need an officer to lead these men. Is that not so?" The sergeant nods. "Then Cornet Castleton will do. He is an officer of some competence."

    Almost despite himself, the sergeant relents and speaks up to announce that you are now in command. Cazarosta gives you a stern look.

    "You are tolerable company, Castleton. Try to avoid dying."

    With that, he returns to his place.

    By the time you finish checking over your sabre and pistol, the Victorious is barely twenty metres away from the staggering Antari vessel. There is no time to make a speech or any last-minute preparations.

    Another volley of cannon fire assaults your ears. Once again, thunder and flame lash across the stricken enemy vessel's side. As the smoke clears, the sergeant gives the order to lower the gangplanks.

    A handful of marines crawl forward, carrying heavy wooden boards. At a pre-arranged signal, they slip the boarding planks over the top of the sailcloth bulwarks as more marines atop the quarterdeck and forecastle hurl grappling hooks over the side. Before long, the lines haul the stricken enemy vessel up against the oaken side of the Victorious. The sergeant signals that they are ready to go and allows you to give the order to attack.

    "Tierra and Victory! Advance!"

    You lead the marines across the gangplanks through the smoke. The choking powder fog is thick enough to obscure you from Antari snipers but not enough to leave you disoriented. You step onto the enemy ship just as the smoke clears.

    The deck of the Antari vessel is a still-life of carnage. The dead are everywhere, transfixed by musket balls, ripped asunder by grapeshot, or torn to shreds by splinters. The wooden planking is slick with gore. The iron-sweet smell of spilled blood and burned flesh forces its way up your nostrils.

    As you advance with sabre in one hand and pistol in the other, you feel a curious tugging sensation from the corner of your mind. Flowing streams of faint, sickly green light play patterns across your vision.

    You:
    [] Ignore it. I'm probably just seeing things.
    [] Hold up the boarding party and try to figure out what it is.
     
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    • Rogue Attican said:
    "Then Cornet Castleton will do. He is an officer of some competence."

    Almost despite himself, the Sergeant relents and speaks up to announce that you are now in command. Cazarosta gives you a stern look.

    "You are tolerable company, Castleton. Try to avoid dying."
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    Ah, I love Caz

    [X] Hold up the boarding party and try to figure out what it is.
    There is a text that said there is a thing. It would be wrong to not stick our head in and find out what that thing is.
     
    [X] Hold up the boarding party and try to figure out what it is.

    Hold it! Based on the lore, I think that's Banecasting! If it is, ignoring it could be a dire mistake.
     
    Sabres 2.04
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    • [X] Hold up the boarding party and try to figure out what it is.
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    You halt the boarding party with a quick hand signal as you try to figure it out. You follow the green light with your eyes and watch as it traces patterns onto the blood-slick deck. Everything clicks. Your eyes dart from side to side, quickly picking out the seals affixed to the sides of the ship's deck.

    "Fall back! Boarding party! Fall back!" You scream, but the patterns of light grow in intensity until the entire deck seems to be glowing like the surface of some harsh green sun.

    Banefire.

    "Down!" You bellow as you go prone. The deck explodes with eldritch force. You feel the heat wash over your back as bright green light sears through your tightly shut eyelids.

    There is silence for a moment, as you and your men pick themselves off their feet, mostly unharmed. The Marine sergeant sends a grin and a nod your way.

    Then, there is a great roar, and Antari soldiers in mail and boiled leather pour out onto the deck to join the battle.

    The ship around you descends into a swirling maelstrom of musket smoke, bared steel, and individual battle cries. The Marines quickly form up in front of you as the sergeant effortlessly seizes their attention. Your fellow Dragoons withdraw into a loose formation behind them.

    "Present! Arms!"

    The Marines bring loaded muskets to their shoulders as the Antari rush you by the dozen in a vast, disorderly mob.

    "Platoon! Fire!"

    The Marines give a disciplined volley at fifteen paces, scything down the first wave of attackers with a wave of fire and smoke.

    "Platoon! Fix bayonets!!"

    As one unit, they fix long spike bayonets to the muzzles of their guns and form a cordon around the gangplanks. The sergeant looks to you for orders.

    You make the decision to:
    [] Be bold: Take the forecastle and the quarterdeck. With the high ground, we can control the battle.
    [] Be cautious: We can hold midships and force the Antari to come to us.
     
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    On Banecasting
  • Informational
    • The practice of using the Bane to manipulate the physical world to the will of a particular mind, or "banecasting," is an exceptionally versatile and powerful ability when used properly, prized throughout the human realms of the Infinite Sea. Banecasters have been able to heal otherwise fatal wounds, turn the tide of battles, and create armour and weapons of impossible durability and strength. However, this immense power is limited by four main constraints: natural ability, resources, casting medium, and the laws of physics.

    The first, and often considered most important constraint is that of the natural ability of the human component. Banecasters are only born from the exalted ranks of the banebloods, and even a child of the blood has only a one in one hundred chance of being gifted with the mental traits that allow him or her to bend the Bane to his or her will. In addition, all banecasters might be trained, but their ability to implement their training varies from individual to individual. Human banecasters are divided into ten calibres: banecasters of the first calibre have very little ability, while banecasters of the tenth calibre are capable of such awe-inspiring feats as pulling entire bulldings down with their power, or summoning gouts of blue or green banefire hot enough to incinerate human bodies instantly.

    The second constraint is that of the material components needed for any sort of banecast: baneseals. These are discs of wax, approximately ten centimetres in width and five centimetres thick, attached to a strip of parchment paper upon which banerunes are written in fresh blood (be it human or otherwise). These seals serve as the anchor points which focus the caster's mental powers and allow them to be amplified and channelled properly into the casting medium. Baneseals must be arranged in the proper pattern to achieve the desired effect of the cast. While simple procedures like the creation of heat or the minor acceleration of entropy might be achieved with a few dozen baneseals, more complex casts, including the much-studied and extremely difficult process of healing injuries and wounds, can take hundreds of seals and multilayered patterns that might take hours to prepare. In addition, banecasting is a physically and mentally exhausting activity, partially due to the fact that the process of casting also syphons off a small amount of the caster's own Bane. Those casters who use their powers regularly often live considerably shorter lives, withering away by the age of sixty-five from a combination of mental and physical fatigue.

    The third constraint stems from the nature of the Bane itself, as it is an entity which only exists within objects which are or were recently alive. As a result, banecasting can only directly affect those sorts of materials. This is why baneseals must be marked with fresh blood, why armour and weapons must have runes etched into them and anointed with oils to be bane-hardened or otherwise enchanted, and why weapons such as the longbow have long been made obsolete as weapons of war.

    The last constraint should be self explanatory: even banecasters must respect the laws of inertia, thermodynamics and conservation of matter. For example, their ability to "create" heat is merely the temporary conversion of bane into heat. If there is no source of Bane nearby to be used, there is no way to cast.
     
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