Duke William of
I really need to finish my quests. :V
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Try to bait a large force into attacking.
Si Deus Nobiscum: A Polish-Lithuanian Scion Quest
- Thread starter Rolman
- Start date
- Mature Historic
- Pronouns
- He
[X] Try to bait a large force into attacking.
In for a Penny, in for a pound
In for a Penny, in for a pound
[X] Try to bait a large force into attacking.
[X] Try to bait a large force into attacking
Kir the Wizard
The Sun King
- Location
- Ukraine
[X] Ride North to meet with Voivode Pac.
Since this is an extraordinary event, call for help, and have a chance to judge the Voivode while we're at it.
Since this is an extraordinary event, call for help, and have a chance to judge the Voivode while we're at it.
[X] Try to bait a large force into attacking.
Solarstream
It's all in the cards
- Location
- Zombie World
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Try to bait a large force into attacking.
XIV-III. July 6, 1574. Witebsk Voivodeship, Grand Duchy of Lithuania
- Location
- United States
It was nearly the summer when you last killed a man. Beautiful weather, like this year, even if the sun is a cooler one. Damn this waiting. Yes, that's right, curse it, even if it be Sin — it's one of the more lesser ones coming your way, you reckon. Kmita is sure they'll bite, saying that they broke their largest camp a few days ago.
That heightened state you find yourself in, awful yet exhilarating and cuttingly familiar, gives the bucolic scenes through which the "payroll convoy" passes an odd glaze of fear. Swaying fields of grain, scarecrows watching over, feel as if they contain human wolves. The verdant woods of beech and birch and aspen are rendered looming thickets, brimming with the unknown.
In orderly quiet does the convoy move forward, hands gripping weapons as the men duck below canvas covers, trying to keep hidden. All in all, the wagon train cuts a somewhat imposing sight — stretching nearly a tenth of a mile and hosting over a hundred and fifty men with riders abreast — but you hope that the alleged prize of Orsza's fine silver will smell sweet enough.
And the days pass. You're starting to lose hope; there isn't an inkling of a Muscovite by the time you're halfway to Witebsk. The messenger-riders, catching up to the convoy breathless as if bearing news of great import, bring anything but. "That's odd to have no news," says Lord Kmita, "makes me think they're gearing up."
van Gistel concurs: "We'd have to ease up on ambushes were we planning something serious back in the homeland." Marszowski just shrugs as if to say: let come what may.
A storm's rolling in. The birches sway and leaves fall like a snail-slow rain. Cold wind blows from the direction of grey-black clouds. The undergrowth feels alive.
Where's the bridge? "Check your wheels and shot!" it's an order you didn't give out, but you agree with whoever said it. They've been waiting and waiting for this. The mounted men wheel around on their horses, unholstering carbines, looking for anything.
There's no bridge; there should be a bridge. Everybody's ready for something. Only divots in the earth where the bridge should be — not even any debris in the brook.
Where are the birds? The wind rushes through the trees.
You wait. You wait some more. The first drops of rain begin to fall. And they never come.
The Muscovites, that is. By the time the rain is truly falling the powder-bags are desperately concealed under canvas, and the men are on the brink of shaking as they hide in the wagon-beds. After hours, more and more of you feel willing to leave cover. They step out from within wagons tentatively and tensely, ready to die. Nothing comes; no arrows fly, no muskets boom.
It'll be dark soon. You conference with Kmita, Marszowski, and van Gistel.
[] "We ought to try and build ourselves a bridge and fast. I don't like this forest."
You've got no real engineers among you, but how hard can this be? It's just a little brook. There are carpenters among the peasant infantry who can break down a couple of the wagons into something usable. Combine that with some handy ditch-digging to drain the little stream, heap up some earth, and hopefully nothing worse than a broken axle will arise from this.
[] "We should try and back out and set up a tabor while we still can."
The horses will have to be unhitched and the wagons rotated to face the other direction by hand. Will eat up time — and that's before forming a tabor.
[] "If they're waiting for nightfall, let's give it to them. Defend from our wagons."
You envision a column of little bastions, brimming with halberd-points and carbine barrels. Of course, while defensible, you forfeit effectively all maneuver capabilities.
[] "Damn the silver — let's find them." (bring everybody)
They must be baiting us, or waiting for us to start trying to leave. They may be at the edge of the forest, waiting. There's only one way to find out.
[] "My lords, I think the time has come to find them." (dispatch scouts)
Hold positions, put out feelers.
That heightened state you find yourself in, awful yet exhilarating and cuttingly familiar, gives the bucolic scenes through which the "payroll convoy" passes an odd glaze of fear. Swaying fields of grain, scarecrows watching over, feel as if they contain human wolves. The verdant woods of beech and birch and aspen are rendered looming thickets, brimming with the unknown.
In orderly quiet does the convoy move forward, hands gripping weapons as the men duck below canvas covers, trying to keep hidden. All in all, the wagon train cuts a somewhat imposing sight — stretching nearly a tenth of a mile and hosting over a hundred and fifty men with riders abreast — but you hope that the alleged prize of Orsza's fine silver will smell sweet enough.
And the days pass. You're starting to lose hope; there isn't an inkling of a Muscovite by the time you're halfway to Witebsk. The messenger-riders, catching up to the convoy breathless as if bearing news of great import, bring anything but. "That's odd to have no news," says Lord Kmita, "makes me think they're gearing up."
van Gistel concurs: "We'd have to ease up on ambushes were we planning something serious back in the homeland." Marszowski just shrugs as if to say: let come what may.
A storm's rolling in. The birches sway and leaves fall like a snail-slow rain. Cold wind blows from the direction of grey-black clouds. The undergrowth feels alive.
Where's the bridge? "Check your wheels and shot!" it's an order you didn't give out, but you agree with whoever said it. They've been waiting and waiting for this. The mounted men wheel around on their horses, unholstering carbines, looking for anything.
There's no bridge; there should be a bridge. Everybody's ready for something. Only divots in the earth where the bridge should be — not even any debris in the brook.
Where are the birds? The wind rushes through the trees.
You wait. You wait some more. The first drops of rain begin to fall. And they never come.
The Muscovites, that is. By the time the rain is truly falling the powder-bags are desperately concealed under canvas, and the men are on the brink of shaking as they hide in the wagon-beds. After hours, more and more of you feel willing to leave cover. They step out from within wagons tentatively and tensely, ready to die. Nothing comes; no arrows fly, no muskets boom.
It'll be dark soon. You conference with Kmita, Marszowski, and van Gistel.
[] "We ought to try and build ourselves a bridge and fast. I don't like this forest."
You've got no real engineers among you, but how hard can this be? It's just a little brook. There are carpenters among the peasant infantry who can break down a couple of the wagons into something usable. Combine that with some handy ditch-digging to drain the little stream, heap up some earth, and hopefully nothing worse than a broken axle will arise from this.
[] "We should try and back out and set up a tabor while we still can."
The horses will have to be unhitched and the wagons rotated to face the other direction by hand. Will eat up time — and that's before forming a tabor.
[] "If they're waiting for nightfall, let's give it to them. Defend from our wagons."
You envision a column of little bastions, brimming with halberd-points and carbine barrels. Of course, while defensible, you forfeit effectively all maneuver capabilities.
[] "Damn the silver — let's find them." (bring everybody)
They must be baiting us, or waiting for us to start trying to leave. They may be at the edge of the forest, waiting. There's only one way to find out.
[] "My lords, I think the time has come to find them." (dispatch scouts)
Hold positions, put out feelers.
- Location
- Colorado
[X] "If they're waiting for nightfall, let's give it to them. Defend from our wagons."
You envision a column of little bastions, brimming with halberd-points and carbine barrels. Of course, while defensible, you forfeit effectively all maneuver capabilities.
best to play things safe here imo
You envision a column of little bastions, brimming with halberd-points and carbine barrels. Of course, while defensible, you forfeit effectively all maneuver capabilities.
best to play things safe here imo
[X] "My lords, I think the time has come to find them." (dispatch scouts)
Astra Myst
Do you want a wish?
- Location
- Milky Way Galaxy
[X] "If they're waiting for nightfall, let's give it to them. Defend from our wagons."
Either the Russians are expecting a trap from us and are trying to counter-ambush us, they aren't even here, or we got lost and are in the wrong place.
I'll assume the worst, and propose the following plan:
[X] Plan: Night Reconnaissance
- [X] van Gistel will take the force not otherwise employed and set up a tabor, making sure the men are ready to receive an attack from the direction of expected contact. Should the enemy attack this element, they will recall Stanislaw's element.
- [X] Stanislaw will take Marzowski and the Lipka's best riders with him for a reconnaissance sweep. Their junior riders will act as relays of information between us and the rest of the force, and they will use fire and their voices to do so in the dark. Should this element find the enemy, they will retreat to the tabor site with the enemy in tow, giving forward notice to the camp via their relays.
- [X] We will not presume to issue orders to Kmita, but we will seek his concurrence.
I am indeed trying to eat my cake and have it to.
I'll assume the worst, and propose the following plan:
[X] Plan: Night Reconnaissance
- [X] van Gistel will take the force not otherwise employed and set up a tabor, making sure the men are ready to receive an attack from the direction of expected contact. Should the enemy attack this element, they will recall Stanislaw's element.
- [X] Stanislaw will take Marzowski and the Lipka's best riders with him for a reconnaissance sweep. Their junior riders will act as relays of information between us and the rest of the force, and they will use fire and their voices to do so in the dark. Should this element find the enemy, they will retreat to the tabor site with the enemy in tow, giving forward notice to the camp via their relays.
- [X] We will not presume to issue orders to Kmita, but we will seek his concurrence.
I am indeed trying to eat my cake and have it to.
