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Let's Play: Cataphrak's Dragoon Saga

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Sabres 6.01
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    • [X] Return to patrol duty.

    You inform Major Hunter and your men of your decision the next day.

    Chapter VI
    Wherein the cavalry officer must choose betwixt his HONOUR and his duty to HIS TIERRAN MAJESTY's army.    ​

    The planning office stands in the centre of the outpost's command building. A large room with a stone foundation and a massive map table in the centre, the planning office is the closest thing the outpost has to a central meeting area or a wardroom. It is here that you have been ordered to report to receive your patrol orders. A pair of grenadiers with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets guard the door at all times, protecting the room and the valuable maps, reports, and classified files stored within. As they see you approach, both snap to attention and take a moment to ensure that you are, indeed, who you say you are before stepping aside to allow your entrance.

    As you walk inside, you can plainly see that the maps on the table have been arranged for your benefit. Seeing you enter, Captain Lefebvre orders you to approach with a jerk of his chin. Upon closer inspection, you pick out the two routes traced on the large sheet of parchment.

    You clearly recognize one route, the one positioned along the road heading east from the outpost, as the road to Noringia: the path you had used to arrive at the outpost when you were first assigned. The other seems more irregular, making a rough circuit around the area, with stops marked at what you assume to be villages.

    Captain Lefebvre is clearly in a worse mood than usual today. He coldly explains that the outpost's increased garrison and responsibilities come with a greater need for supplies and warning time in case of attack. As such, both the length and number of patrol routes are to be doubled. Patrols that had previously taken one day are now to take two, covering a vastly increased area.

    As you and your unit have seniority over the more recently arrived cavalrymen, Lefebvre offers you the choice of the two patrol routes: the shorter, more monotonous one heading eastward or the longer, more circuitous western route.

    [] I pick the Eastern route. The men and I could use some easy duties for a bit.
    [] I pick the Western route. More arduous duty will keep the men in fighting trim.
     
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    • [] I pick the Western route. More arduous duty will keep the men in fighting trim.
    I worry that our men are going to hate us by the end of this. And we probably don't have the Charisma or Soldiering to make them drink piss and call it fruit juice.

    But, eh, hm. Actually I've talked myself out of it. I kept on waiting for the "but" and it didn't come.

    [X] I pick the Eastern route. The men and I could use some easy duties for a bit.
     
    SeptimusMagisto said:
    Oof. The way we handled that was just okay. Technically it worked out, but we got maybe a third of the maximum possible benefit.
    Click to expand...
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    Damn, I forget just how helpful that runegun was when playing with low soildering.

    [X] I pick the Eastern route. The men and I could use some easy duties for a bit.

    I think having a well-round unit is better than going all-in on discipline.
     
    Sabres 6.02
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    • [X] I pick the Eastern route. The men and I could use some easy duties for a bit.
    Morale increases by 5%.
    Click to expand...
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    You end up picking the eastern route. This turns out to involve patrolling the Old Imperial Highway to safeguard the flow of supplies from Noringia. A more important duty than ever with the expanded outpost's similarly-expanded need for food, equipment, powder, and shot.

    Your men take to the new patrol route well. It does their spirits good to be out in the warm summer sun, riding their horses at an easy pace along a wide and well-maintained road. Morale improves, and weariness is slowly supplanted by the deep itch of fighting men in high spirits, straining to trade a few shots with the enemy.

    All is not completely well, however. As the weeks turn to months, you begin noticing oddities on patrol: regularly scheduled supply wagons begin disappearing, only to be found empty on the side of the road with no trace of their animals or drivers. At first, the disappearances are infrequent enough to be considered below notice by your superiors, but eventually, the outpost begins to feel the effect of the lost supply carts.

    Major Hunter is forced to organize foraging parties to purchase foodstuffs from neighbouring villages. Thankfully, the local serfs, being offered good Tierran coin for the crops they were forced to give up as a feudal obligation before the war, readily sell their produce. Food stores remain low but stable. Unfortunately, these peasant villages cannot supply you with the other accoutrements of warfare: powder, shot, weapons, and uniforms. Reserves begin running distressingly low.

    -​

    One day, as the muggy heat of the Antari summer finally begins to fray under the cool breezes of early autumn, you are awoken early in the morning by a haggard-looking runner in the burnt orange of the Grenadiers. He gives you orders from Captain Lefebvre: you are to gather and ready your men for an immediate sortie before reporting to the Captain for special duties.

    As you cross the parade grounds to ready your horse, you notice that the Grenadiers are already packed in ranks by platoon, as if for inspection. As you saddle Faith, you see Grenadier sergeants, swagger stick in hand, carrying out a careful and exacting roll call of their men, and not just the ones on duty either: all of them.

    What would cause so much distress as to require every single Grenadier in the outpost to be so rousted out and counted?

    Upon entering the enlisted barracks to round up your men. You see them all huddled around Sergeant Lanzerel's bunk. They are all listening in rapt attention as your sergeant speaks in clipped, hushed tones. They are clearly discussing something which they do not want unwelcome ears to hear.

    You decide to:

    [] Eavesdrop. My men should keep no secrets from me.
    [] Approach them and ask what they are talking about.
    [] Just give them their orders and stay out of it.
     
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    • [x] Eavesdrop. My men should keep no secrets from me.

    Our charisma is not exactly all that high, so I don't think we can convince our man to tell us their secret.
     
    Sabres 6.03
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    • [X] Eavesdrop. My men should keep no secrets from me.

    You approach your men as quietly as you can. Their words are difficult to make out, but you recognize Sergeant Lanzerel's voice as he speaks to your men. "Major Hunter's a good man, but he's too much of a gentleman to know how to win a real fight. Keep it a secret from him. Our young lordling might be brought around, but now is not the time to try his patience."

    You hear the sound of a throat clearing itself loudly. For a moment, there is an awkward silence. The men have obviously detected your presence. "Good morning, sir! New orders?"

    You step in closer and make yourself known to your men, asking them straightforwardly exactly what it is that they are talking about. For a moment, you get no reply. Then Sergeant Lanzerel stands up. "With all due respect, sir, I don't think you want to know."

    It is clear that your men would rather not tell you exactly what they are up to. How exactly do you plan to get a straight answer out of them?

    [] Try to convince them.
    [] Bribe them. (-50 Wealth)
    [] Threaten them.
    [] Back off and just give them their orders.
     
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    • Sabres 6.04
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    • [X] Bribe them.

    You dangle the offer of "pay bonuses" to your men if they choose to come forward and tell you to reward them for their honesty, of course. You set ten gold crowns in front of each of your five men. You see their eyes widen as the large coins glimmer in the lamplight.

    The glint of coin immediately sets their mouths to talking. Honour among comrades is one thing, but it is frail indeed when confronted with the sight of the equivalent of half a year's salary. After all, professional soldiers are just mercenaries with tenure, fighting for wages in glory, gold, and loot.

    The story comes out in bits and pieces from your men, all suddenly eager to quickly find their words. They tell you about rumours regarding some of the enlisted Grenadiers, namely that they have been sneaking out of the outpost while off-duty with their weapons and rations and not returning for hours on end. Your sergeant suspects that frustrated by the constant raids on your supply lines by Antari partisans, they have decided to take the matter into their own hands without orders or leave.

    You give the men their orders and walk out with your hard-won knowledge. You have no idea how deeply your own men are involved in this, but you make a note to investigate further as you cross the square again to report to Captain Lefebvre.

    As usual, you find the Captain in the planning office with a mug of strong tea in one hand and a sheaf of reports in the other. The man seems unreasonably preoccupied. In fact, you doubt you have ever seen him in a state of such anxiety. He does not even notice your arrival until you snap your heels to attention and report yourself ready for duty.

    The Captain looks up. "Cornet Castleton! About bloody time. I need your men for some delicate business."

    Lefebvre explains that a supply wagon from Noringia was supposed to arrive the morning before. A few hours or half a day's tardiness could be chalked up to a broken axle or a poor stretch of road, but to be delayed more than a day on a journey only supposed to require three is something else entirely.

    Your orders are to lead your unit down the Old Imperial Highway to Noringia in an attempt to find the wagon and hopefully escort it the remainder of the distance to the outpost.

    These orders seem more than a little strange to you. Supply wagons have disappeared before, but never with more reaction from the Captain than a dismissive shrug or a frustrated glance. To send out a patrol so early in the morning to search for a single missing wagon seems almost like overkill.

    You ask the Captain if that will be all. Lefebvre seems to wrestle with himself for a moment before he shakes his head. "There is one more thing, Cornet. Six of my men have disappeared in the night."

    The Captain waves the sheaf of parchment in his hand at you. "They have taken with them their muskets, shot, and powder. If you find them, they are to be apprehended and returned to the outpost under escort and restraint, where they are to stand trial for desertion. Is that understood?"

    Suddenly, everything makes sense. Lefebvre does not give a damn about the wagon. Your real mission is to find and bring back these "deserters." Yet that itself seems strange. Only a fool would try his luck in a massive and openly hostile country like Antar and if they did, they would certainly take more than their weapons.

    As Lefebvre seems to know more than he is letting on, you:

    [] Try to convince Lefebvre to give me more answers.
    [] Threaten to go to Major Hunter if he does not tell me the truth.
    [] Accept my assignment at face value.
     
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    • I really am uncertain. Hmm.

    [X] Try to convince Lefebvre to give me more answers.

    I am almost certain this will fail based on our stats, but this feels more in-character, if we don't have a reason to doubt Lefebvre or try to make an enemy of him.
     
    Sabres 6.05
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    • [X] Try to convince Lefebvre to give me more answers.

    "With all due respect, sir, I have the distinct impression that you're withholding some intelligence from me. If you tell me the source of the issue, I swear upon my word as an officer and a gentleman that I will rid you of the problem quietly, but I cannot do such a thing unless I am told what the difficulty is."

    Captain Lefebvre shoots an annoyed look at you for a moment before forcing his eyes shut and shaking his head.

    "Very well then, Castleton. You are a good officer and an excellent soldier. I have seen enough proof of that. I hope your word of honour is as steady as your sabre hand."

    Lefebvre leans in close, looking from side to side to ensure nobody is eavesdropping, before speaking in a low, quiet voice. "The Grenadiers which you are to apprehend are not deserters. They are men frustrated with the constant attacks on our supply lines. They are men whom I have entrusted to resolve the difficulty in a capacity not sanctioned by the King's regulations."

    Lefebvre explains that the "deserters" you are looking for have the extra job of hunting for the partisans in the woods when not on duty, a secret task that Major Hunter remains ignorant of. The failure of these men to return before the beginning of their assigned duty hours threatens to reveal the whole scheme to the Major. It has apparently become enough of a worry to Captain Lefevbre that he is willing to send you after them to find them and, if necessary, render assistance. That is your real mission.

    "This intelligence does not leave the room. If it does, it will mean the ruin of a great many good men, soldiers who know know that victory must be gained through more than just honour and virtue. If you bring ruin upon them, I will harness every single one of my considerable powers to see you ruined with them. Dismissed."

    -​

    You find the men assembled and waiting for you as you step into the courtyard. Quickly saddling and mounting up on Faith, you take the lead as you have in a hundred patrols before, riding out the main gate towards the Old Imperial highway two hours after dawn.

    The next few hours are uneventful. You and your men keep ready eyes for anything out of the ordinary on the road as you make your way at a measured pace. After a few hours, the midday sun begins making itself known, surrounding your tiny column with a miasma of hot, muggy air.

    Finally, at about noon, you hear noises and voices shouting in Tierran. You spur your horse forward and turn the bend. You come across a sight you will not forget for a long time.

    The first thing you see is the missing wagon, tipped on its side, one wheel spinning slowly in the midday breeze. The next thing you see are the remnants of its drivers.

    You hear someone swear roughly behind you. The peasants hired to drive the wagon, two men and a woman (at least, you think it had been a woman), have been disembowelled, mangled, and beaten beyond identification. Their shattered remains hang from the low branch of a nearby tree. The rough shape of the two-headed eagle of the League of Antar is carved into the chests of the murdered peasants, leaving no question of the perpetrators' allegiance.

    So shocking is the scene in its cruelty that it takes you half a minute to see the two men in the orange jackets and bearskin shakos of the Grenadiers approach the desecrated corpses. Still struck dumb, you watch as one of them cuts a body down with a knife. You see the Grenadier toss the bloody form into the ruins of the wagon as the other sits around a pile of kindling, clearly trying to start a fire.

    The Grenadier by the cart sees you and your men as he looks back up. His hand darts to his musket lying against a nearby tree trunk by instinct before catching himself, recognizing the grey and red tunics of the Royal Dragoons.

    The infantryman scrambles over to you, sketching off a quick salute. His sleeves carry the two chevrons of a corporal of the Grenadiers.

    "We found these poor folk just hanging like that." His voice is full of barely-suppressed anger. "Must be the bloody Antari freeholders raiding again. We're just giving these poor souls a proper cremation so they can meet the Saints in a state of peace."

    You come to the obvious conclusion quickly enough: these men are the Grenadiers hunting down the Antari partisans in secret. They have no other reason to be this far from the outpost.

    More importantly, out of the half dozen you were supposed to look for, only two are present. You can't help but wonder what happened to the others.

    Odd indeed. What do you plan to do about it?

    [] Follow my orders. Render whatever assistance I can and escort these men back to the outpost.
    [] Question the two Grenadiers about their other missing comrades.
    [] Tell them I am under Lefebvre's orders to assist them.
    [] Search for the other missing Grenadiers myself.
     
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    • Welp shit, first big moral predicament.
    [X] Tell them I am under Lefebvre's orders to assist them.
    I think the Mc would want to ensure it goes as least horrible as possible.
     
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    [X] Question the two Grenadiers about their other missing comrades.

    I think we need to find wherever the rest of them are and fast to keep them from, uh.
     
    Sabres 6.06
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    • [X] Question the two Grenadiers about their other missing comrades.

    You step forward menacingly, your hand resting on the hilt of your sabre. Your men follow your lead. "I was told that six of you had left the outpost. Where are the rest? Don't lie to me. I know the six of you were out here to fight the partisans, so let's hear it: where are the others?"

    The Grenadiers whisper amongst themselves for a few moments. Their hushed words grow more and more panicked until finally, one of them speaks up. "Well, sir, we were along the road when we found this grisly scene. The sergeant flew into such a rage that he ordered us to stay behind and give the bodies some respect while he and the others hunted down the bastards responsible."

    The Grenadier points at a slight opening in the trees a little up the road. "They went through there, sir."

    The corporal points at the sad sight of the suspended bodies. "Might you help us with these poor folk, sir? I'm sure the others will be back."

    [] Help the Grenadiers bury the bodies.
    [] Search for the others myself.
     
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