For Sarah Phillips, the relentless noise and chaos surrounding Boston had become nearly unbearable. The once-familiar city she had arrived in, despite a raging mob of disgruntled colonists throwing tea into the harbor, was now a battleground, where the steady thrum of Continental soldiers digging trenches and erecting makeshift fortifications mingled with the distant boom of cannon fire from Royal Navy ships who decided that they would have fun. The irregulars outside the city laid siege to it with growing determination, and with a growing number, while the British Regulars inside clung to their last bastion of control. It was a sight that might have stirred patriotism or defiance in others, but for Sarah, it only deepened the ache in her heart.
The strain of it all was almost too much for her young heart to bear. She had been raised to believe in the might and justice of the British crown and to see herself as a loyal subject of King George and in the honor of the Regular forces of the British Army. Yet now, surrounded by the unmistakable signs of rebellion and war, her convictions wavered. She tried—tried so hard—to hold firm, to maintain her integrity in the face of so much uncertainty. But the weight of everything she had witnessed, everything she had lost, was too heavy to carry alone.
Grief had found its way into her heart, a slow and quiet torment that she had not realized until it was too late. The death of her cousin—so sudden, so senseless—had left a wound that time had yet to heal. No matter how much she tried to stay composed, to present herself as the strong and proper young woman she had always been taught to be, the mourning never truly left her. It lingered beneath her polite smiles, behind her clear blue eyes, threatening to spill over with every passing day.
She had hoped that James would be some comfort to her, as he had been in times of trouble before. He was her friend, after all—someone who understood the complicated feelings she harbored in this strange new land. But even James, with his boundless energy and good intentions, seemed distant now. He was always running about with Henri, caught up in their own adventures, too busy to sit with her, too preoccupied to notice her quiet suffering. She appreciated his attempts to speak with her, to cheer her up with his usual wit and enthusiasm, but his words felt hollow. He couldn't reach her, not truly. He didn't understand.
What she needed was someone who could listen, someone who could give her the space to grieve without asking her to be strong. She thought of Moses, whose steady presence had always made her feel safe, or Dr. Franklin, whose wisdom might offer her some clarity in these tumultuous times. Even Arthur, despite his stern demeanor, and love of the sea, and radicalism, would have afforded her a better chance to sort through her feelings. But none of them were here. She was alone in her sorrow, with no comfort to be found.
As she watched the soldiers outside, young men barely older than herself, laboring in the trenches with determination in their eyes, Sarah felt a pang of something more than grief. It was a quiet sense of displacement, of not quite belonging to either side of this conflict. She wasn't sure anymore who the enemy truly was, or whether the ideals she had been raised to believe in still held any meaning in this war-torn world. Night was falling soon, and she knew that wandering around in the dark was a sure way to get her, not in trouble but get her hurt.
But even as Sarah tried to suppress her swirling thoughts, her feet led her to places she hadn't intended to visit. She wandered first to Bunker Hill, and then further on to Breed's Hill, where the grim work of war was already well underway. Soldiers, both young and old, toiled tirelessly, fortifying the earth with trenches and embankments. Her heart felt heavy as she watched them, but soon, her attention was drawn to a familiar figure wandering in with a lantern.
"Dr. Warren?" she called out softly, catching sight of the older man as he squinted as she approached. Despite the dust and grime covering his hands, and the darkness of the early night, she recognized him, barely. He was so unlike how clean he was during their last encounter in Boston proper, a warm smile lit up his face as he recognized her.
"My goodness, Sarah Philips! What brings you here?" Dr. Joseph Warren exclaimed, wiping his brow and walking over to greet her, his voice a comforting reminder of more peaceful times.
"I... I was just walking, and—" Sarah began, but she didn't quite know how to finish. Her words were as unsettled as her thoughts. She smiled weakly, unsure why she had come to this place amidst the looming battle, where men like Dr. Warren prepared for something she could barely fathom.
"One moment, Charles," Dr. Warren interrupted one of his men who had approached to speak with him. He waved the young soldier away with a reassuring hand. "I'll be right with you soon, to speak to General Putnam."
He took his jacket off, placed it over your shoulders, and picked up the rifle he had set aside, slinging it over his shoulder. The gesture struck Sarah as odd, seeing the good doctor armed like a soldier. It was a grim reminder that in times like these, even men of healing were not spared from the brutality of war. Or rather, just how committed he was to the cause he had long preached.
"I heard you and James had returned to Boston," Dr. Warren continued as they began to walk, keeping her close so she wouldn't wander off into the darkness. His tone was light, but Sarah could hear the undercurrent of concern in his voice. "But I never imagined you'd be out here in the thick of it. I take it James is up to his usual adventures?"
"Yes, he's writing a story," Sarah replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "Something about John Halbert and his Rangers... and how General Ward hopes to hold the siege together." She paused, glancing at the men around her, at their dirt-smeared faces and tired eyes, at the way they worked with a quiet sense of urgency as if they knew something terrible was coming. "I—I had hoped…"
Her voice caught, and before she could stop it, a tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, embarrassed by the sudden rush of emotion. But Dr. Warren saw it, and his expression softened.
"Sarah, I heard about your cousin and the others who died that day." he said gently, stopping to face her. His voice, so often full of confidence and determination, was now quiet and kind. "You've been through more than most should ever have to bear. It's all right to feel what you're feeling."
"I don't even know what I'm feeling," she admitted, her voice trembling as she stared down at the ground. "Everything's just… falling apart. I'm trying to stay strong, to stay loyal, but I'm so lost. James is so caught up in his stories, Henri in his troubles, and I… I feel like I'm standing on the edge of something, and I don't know where to turn."
Dr. Warren nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It's easy to feel lost in times like these. Everything is uncertain. But know this, Sarah—your heart, your kindness, your strength… they aren't lost. Even in the darkest times, we find our way by holding on to the people and the principles we believe in. No matter what they are."
Sarah looked up at him, searching his face for the comfort she so desperately needed. "But what if I don't know what I believe anymore? What if… what if I don't know where I belong?"
Warren sighed, glancing out at the men working around them. "There are no easy answers. None of us can predict what tomorrow will bring. But you belong here, Sarah. You belong with those of us who care."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip steady and reassuring. "And as for James… well, he's young, and sometimes too focused on his own dreams. But he cares about you more than you know. Don't be afraid to let him see how you're feeling. Even the strongest among us need someone to lean on."
Sarah sniffled and Dr. Warren gave a nod. "I think you should head back to camp though…" There was smoke in the distance, the royal navy patrolling the waters and Sarah could see the Regulars drilling in the distance. "It's not safe here."
She gave a nod, and began walking back to Camp where James and Henri waited.
AN: @Duke William of I come bearing the gift of an omake for Liberty Kids... though only one of them, as I have an idea for Henri and James next turn after the battle.
If that's okay, I chose Sarah and Dr. Warren to be the subjects for two reasons. One they seemed rather nice together when they were there.
Two, I thought that one she discovered the information about her father, and she would return to Henri and James at the continental lines instead of staying in Boston.
Also, really playing into the famous line in the opening: I'm looking at life through my own eyes/Searching for a hero to idolize/Feeling the pain as innocence dies..."
"They've got us surrounded again, the poor bastards!" –Colonel Creighton Adams, Battle of the Bulge
[X] Plan Helm's Deep
-[X] Yes, it will allow us to cover more ground and keep the Redcoats from advancing too much inland. (Great risk of Recoats cutting off Breed's Hill from Bunker Hill, but buys time for Bunker Hill to prepare.)
-[X] Bunker Hill (Only if you pick the first or second options for the first question.)
-[X] Help Colonel Prescott finish the battle plan and the layout of the fortifications.
June 16, 1775
Charlestown Peninsula, Massachusetts
-[X] Help Colonel Prescott finish the battle plan and the layout of the fortifications.
1d100 = 56+25+10 = 91
"The problem is that the redoubt can be easily flanked on both sides," Halbert stated as waved aside a puff of smoke, courtesy of Colonel Prescott's smoking pipe. "The fortifications as planned would not only not remedy this but actively allow the British to exploit it."
"That is a problem," Colonel Prescott sighed as he looked over the maps, the two having gone over the plans for at least thirty minutes, given the last time Halbert had checked his pocket watch.
The colonel then turned to Halbert with a perked eyebrow. "I thought you were a merchant's son."
"My father has an architect for a friend who used to serve as an engineer for the Redcoats," Halbert supplied, "and we're getting off-track here."
"Indeed."
A few minutes later...
"That should be it," Colonel Precott stated with a pleased smile as he and Halbert folded up the maps. "Thank you once again for your advice, Major."
"It is merely my duty, sir," Halbert responded with faux meekness.
"If only others would pursue their duties as diligently as you," Colonel Prescott wryly remarked. "We'd best be off, then. Keep Bunker Hill safe while I take care of Breed's Hill."
"Do be courteous and not steal all the glory, Colonel," Halbert remarked with a slight smirk.
Colonel Prescott only laughed in response. "It is not theft if I rightfully earned it, Major."
Result: The plans regarding the layout of fortifications and the battle strategy have had their little details hammered out, with some parts being improved. Gain a +15 Bonus to preparation for the actual battle, as well as +2 Relations with Colonel Prescott.
Some time later...
Constructing the Fortifications
1d100 = 56+25+10+15-20 = 89
Work on the fortifications at Bunker Hill was going smoothly, Halbert mused to himself as his men continued to dig trenches and erect breastworks. While Halbert wished the process would go quicker, he often wished for a lot of things to be quicker. And you could only hasten building a fortress so much before the quality of the fortress dropped significantly. So Halbert contented himself with the fact his men were doing the best they possibly could.
Colonel Prescott had taken half of their 1,200 strong force and begun fortifying Breed's Hill, General Putnam was further back trying to get more men to hold the respective hills, and Halbert had been put in charge of Bunker Hill. Some other officers had complained about an unseasonably boy taking command over other, "more qualified" gentlemen, but they had been swiftly denied by Colonel Prescott. Good.
"Keep it up, gentlemen, we'll be done by morning," Halbert encouraged his men, to which which jokingly groused back.
"Enjoy your nap, sir," one of the men retorted retorted a smirk, and raucous laughter seized the men around him.
"Thank you, I will," Jonathan smiled back, causing even more laughter. He'd have to remember that joke for later.
They didn't notice anything amiss until the booming of cannons and subsequent explosions shook the ground. Then came the crackle of muskets firing and yelling of men shortly after. Halbert's head whipped around toward the direction of Breed's Hill, and his heart sank into his shoes as the gravity of the situation hit him. He rushed over to his satchel, which rested on the saddle of his horse, and frantically pulled out a spyglass. Extending it, Halbert rushed back to where he was and tried to observe the battle, with a small crowd joining him. Unfortunately, he could barely make out a Redcoat from a tree with the considerably lack of light, and the smoke from the muskets certainly didn't help.
"Private Brown! Private Brown," the unhappy Halbert barked urgently, the aforementioned soldier rushing over and tripping over his feet before coming to a halt beside Halbert. "Brown, get the hell over to General Putnam and tell him Breed's Hill needs reinforcements immediately."
"Right away, sir," Brown saluted before running off to find a horse. Halbert quickly snapped back to look at the battle, his heart pounding as he whispered a silent prayer for the men fighting. He would have rushed his men over as reinforcements, but they had already pushed things with their creative interpretation of orders. Outright abandoning Bunker Hill was out of the question.
British Assault
1D100 = 8+20-15-15-5 = Neg Crit! -7 (Whut.)
American Defense
1D100 = 6+25+5+10-15 = 31 (The heck? )
Halbert's heart began to race as the battle continued to unfold, its rapid beats pounding like horses at a racetrack. He swallowed the urge to rush forward and join the fight, however, and kept his cool.
No Redcoats appeared, however. No wave of red came over the hill to wash over them. And as the noise and din of fighting ceased, Breed's Hill remained unconquered.
Do the Americans counterattack? 1 They stay put, 2 They charge.
For a moment, all Halbert heard were cheers from all the men around him, justly jubilant about the Redcoats having run off. Then, a haunting war cry that pierced Halbert's soul rang out from Breed's Hill, causing all cheers to cease as all turned their attention back to the hill. Just barely, Halbert could make out movement on Breed's Hill disappearing behind the Hill and toward... the... Goddamnit.
"What's going on," a young man's voice questioned, and Halbert whirled around to see Mr. Hiller and Mr. LeFevbre, the young journalists who had interviewed him just a few days ago, behind him and on top a proud stallion. Or rather, the journalist who had interviewed him and his rascal of a companion who had attempted to snatch his muffins. Wait...
"What the hell are you two doing here," Halbert exclaimed, genuine surprise lighting his words like a blazing fire. "Weren't you boys up at Fort Ticonderoga just a while back?"
"We were, Major," Mr. Hiller replied with a cheeky grin, acting as if a battle wasn't occurring just a short distance away. "We returned here as soon as possible, however. We couldn't miss out on history in the making."
"And besides, Sarah's here as well," Mr. LeFevbre piped up right after, which only served to confuse Halbert even more.
How the hell did Miss Philips slip by their guards?! How did any of that even explain how quickly they'd arrived in Boston?! It didn't, so what on earth was?!–Halbert shook his head. Now was not the time to get distracted by wayward thoughts. Though he would pursue these thoughts later when he had the opportunity.
"Well, if you're here for a story, then I suggest you get on over to Breed's Hill," Halbert pointed over to the aforementioned Hill. "If you hurry, you might just catch up to the fighting."
"Fighting?!"
Mr. Hiller and Mr. LeFevbre both exclaimed with both clear excitement and muddle confusion.
"The crazy bastards are driving the Redcoats back," one of Halbert's men helpfully supplied with a giddy whoop, which was followed by the cheers of several other men.
"Redcoats," Mr. Hiller questioned with the same confusion that Halbert had, which gave cause for Halbert to feel minor elation. "Where did the Redcoats come from?"
"Why don't you ask Colonel Prescott, son," Halbert responded. "He's the one leading the charge."
The young man's curiosity caught, Mr. Hiller spurred his horse on and raced towards Breed's Hill.
American Counterattack
1D100 = 74+25+5+10 = Crit! 114
British Defense
1D100 = 20+20-15-15-10 = Crit! 0 (I can't even...)
After some more painstaking waiting, the damnable hill obscuring his view of the fighting, a rider appeared over the hill and rode toward them at full speed. A few of his men grabbed their muskets, but Halbert ordered them to stand down. Were the man British, they would be seeing Redcoats coming over behind him in a long line.
"We got 'em all!!" The rider yelled with clear glee as he rode up to their fortifications, tossing his up into the air with flair. "We caught the Redcoats with their britches down!!"
"What happened, soldier," Halbert questioned as he approached the rider.
"The Redcoats were attempting to row back to Boston, but we caught them just as the first boats were rowing away," the rider excitedly recalled. Christmas had come early for the man, and Halbert couldn't help but be infected by his earnest joy. Not that he would show it, of course. "We had to shoot some of them first, but they all surrendered after. We've won!
"How many losses?"
"Whom for, sir?"
"Both, I suppose."
"Mostly powder and musketballs for us, sir," the man grinned. "A good bunch of our boys were unfortunately wounded, but we're alright for the most part. For the Redcoats... My apologies, but I couldn't count them all. We got more than a hundred prisoners, at least."
That... Good God above, that was wonderful! Oh, what kind of description was that, it was an utter and complete miracle!
"That's a fine horse you have there," Halbert noted after a moment, the spotless white stallion seeming to gleam in the dim moonlight. It served as a good distraction from his very active emotions popping and beating within him.
The rider grinned as he proudly patted the horse's neck. "Got to thank General Clinton for it, sir. Poor boy was left behind by the general; bastard just barely managed to slip back into the bay before we could catch him."
...Oh.
Taking a moment to recover his disposition as the men cheered in renewed jubilation, Halbert coughed into his fist and, with a measured tone, responded, "Give Colonel Prescott my compliments on a well-earned victory. And tell him also that we should probably meet with General Putnam to discuss our next move."
The British, having noticed the activity on Breed's Hill despite the Americans' attempts to keep it secret, have launched a surprise landing and attack on Breed's Hill, catching the Americans unaware in unfinished fortifications.
Almost the entirety of the landing party has been killed or captured after the Americans launched a devastating counterattack (just barely less than two hundred taken prisoner), and American losses are powder, musketballs, and some men, about a a hundred, minorly and/or majorly wounded.
The British intend to launch another assault on Breed's Hill to undo this embarrassment... next morning, because Gage, Howe, Clinton (who narrowly escaped being captured), Burgoyne, and Smith are heavily divided on how to respond, costing them precious time doing nothing and giving you plenty of time to prepare for the inevitable second assault.
Do you request to be part of the reinforcements headed for Breed's Hill, or do you wish to stay at Bunker Hill?
[] The British are bound to attack Breed's Hill again! They'll need every man they can get up there, and you don't want to lose out on more glory.
[] It is no use tiring your men out after they just built one fort. You'll stay back and continue guarding Bunker Hill; if need be, you can reinforce later.
What do you do in preparation? Pick three options. (Two if you choose to go to Breed's Hill.)
[] Gather your men and give a speech to inspire and rally them.
[] Check over the weapons and supplies to make sure there is nothing faulty or missing.
[] Get reinforcements over to where needed pronto. You will need them.
-[] Get them to Bunker Hill.
-[] Get them to Breed's Hill.
[] Get ammunition and supplies over to where needed pronto. You will need them.
-[] Get them to Bunker Hill.
-[] Get them to Breed's Hill.
[] Shore up fortifications wherever you and your men will be stationed.
[] Talk with your fellow officers and see if you can make some useful friends.
[] Write a letter to your family in case you don't make it. (No roll required.)
[] Write-In (Subject to QM Approval)
Author's Notes:
I feel like there is nothing I can say that can do justice to the utter nonsense that just happened, so I'll just let the update. Also, I never said that the Magoose Dice had screwed you over... I only said that both sides of the bipolar dice decided to rear their heads. And I wasn't lying when I said that drowning in your misery was funny.
Revolutionary Fun Fact–At the Battle of Lexington and Concord, Samuel Whittemore Jr., by then a retired 78 year old veteran, became the oldest combatant to fight in the American Revolution when he ambushed a regiment of British grenadiers passing by his home, killing two and mortally wounding a third.
[x] Plan: Save me a piece man!
-[x] The British are bound to attack Breed's Hill again! They'll need every man they can get up there, and you don't want to lose out on more glory.
-[x] Get ammunition and supplies over to where needed pronto. You will need them.
--[x] Get them to Breed's Hill.
-[x] Check over the weapons and supplies to make sure there is nothing faulty or missing.
[x] Plan All In
- [x] The British are bound to attack Breed's Hill again! They'll need every man they can get up there, and you don't want to lose out on more glory.
- [x] Gather your men and give a speech to inspire and rally them.
- [x] Get ammunition and supplies over to where needed pronto. You will need them.
--[x] Get them to Breed's Hill.
That would be Lexington and Concord, which were also a massive embarrassment to the British. But yeah, this could've been worse. I could've gone with my original plan of having 500 captured.
Honestly that's more emberassing then the real history of the battle of bunker hill for the American Revolution. The Redcoats literally dropped the ball when they had a chance to gain a victory while our allies were still fortifying their position, instead it was our allies, fellow American Revolutionaries who defeated them even when unprepared.
That would be Lexington and Concord, which were also a massive embarrassment to the British. But yeah, this could've been worse. I could've gone with my original plan of having 500 captured.
Honestly that's more emberassing then the real history of the battle of bunker hill for the American Revolution. The Redcoats literally dropped the ball when they had a chance to gain a victory while our allies were still fortifying their position, instead it was our allies, fellow American Revolutionaries who defeated them even when unprepared.
This genuinely might change the entire course of the early war. If the Revolutionaries crushed the British at Bunker Hill, it'd inspire so much more to join the cause, and might even sway things in Canada.
Oh that would be interesting having Canadian revolutionaries join the revolution. It would make things much more different then historically. And I know which plan I vote that will guarantee it to happen.
Oh that would be interesting having Canadian revolutionaries join the revolution. It would make things much more different then historically. And I know which plan I vote that will guarantee it to happen.
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Can't wait for you all to read the update!
