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Saber and Musket: The Battle of Shedford Downs

***

A one-shot gunpowder period war game

***

The high king is dead, and many more are about to die because of it.

The otherwise idyllic spring day is cut through with the distant rumble of a battle on the cusp of being joined. The bass boom of cannon fire echoes in the cool air, stilling the pleasant chirping of birds and leaving silence.

War has come to the kingdom of Aerthys. This is not the first time, and it certainly won't be the last time. Your nation has a long and proud history of warfare, mostly against its neighbors in squabbles over land and power, but civil strife isn't unheard of.

It's this second type of conflict that your kingdom finds itself dragged into, and you along with it. With no clear successor, two noble families vie for control of the throne of Aerthys. Now that the conflict has spilled from the royal courts of the capital, common men stake their lives for the future of the nation.

Another flurry of cannonade sounds ahead of you and your horse jerks its head uncomfortably at the foreign sound.

"Easy, Duchess," you lean in to stroke your horse's neck. "You'd better get used to it. It will only get worse from here."

You ride north, along a wide dirt track that's meant to lead into the town of Shedford just across the River Camille. The gentle spring weather hasn't yet given way to the blistering heat of summer, but it's not far off. The sun beats down with a fierce regularity, making you sweat in your stiff, white, wool uniform. It's hard to believe that only a day prior fierce storms blanketed this part of the country.

Aside from your horse, Duchess, you travel alone. Your only company on this road is a regiment of infantry, marching in close order toward the sound of the guns. The pelican-crested navy blue flag at their head marks them as men of Porthladd. Fishermen, dockhands, ferrymen, and sailors. As volunteers, they are ill-clothed, wearing only the simple garb they'd worn in life. Rough work clothes, wide-brimmed hats, thick beards, and well-worn shoes.

Their officers and a few NCOs wear the white coats of the Legitimist forces. This dash of uniformity lends officiality to their otherwise ragged appearance. Each man in their ranks shoulders a long-barreled rifled musket, the latest in killing technology. Far more accurate than the old smoothbores of their father's and grandfather's time, these weapons can reach killing volleys out well beyond one hundred yards.

An old man in a threadbare uniform marches at their head. A veteran of wars past no doubt, elected to lead this rabble into battle in the service of their chosen sovereign. Recognition dawns in his eyes as he notes your rank. He raises his voice "General Belmont, sir! Give a cheer boys!"

The regiment bursts into a whooping yell, raising hats and weapons overhead.

What is your background?


>A man of faith
>A man of the people
>A man of means
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>>4754821
>>A man of the people
>>
>>4754821
>A man of means
>>
>A man of means
>>
>>4754821
A man of the people
>>
>>4754821
>>A man of means
>>
>>4754821
>A man of the people
>>
>>4754821
>A man of means
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>>4754821
>>A man of the people
>>
>>4754821
>A man of means
Let's be budget nathan bedford forrest
>>
>>4754821

>A man of means

It's not unheard of for a man of the people to make it to the officer corps on his own merit, but it's rare enough that one makes it to General that I doubt we would be.
>>
>A man of the people
>>4754830
>>4754853
>>4754876

>A man of means
>>4754834
>>4754843
>>4754863
>>4754902
>>4754916
>>4754926


>A man of means
Writing
>>
You lift your own hat in salute, despite the strangeness of the title. General. You're no stranger to war, you'd fought in the Uplands conflict against the armies of Casmia, but only as a captain, a far cry from general. That was four years past but also the closest thing to real modern military experience most in service could claim to have nowadays.

You've always been a man of means. Your family owns a majority share in an overseas trade company and you yourself have a landed estate along the River Antary, non-so-modest plantation. The consequence is that you've always been financially independent and well-known. Your acts of charity and local business ventures made you something of a celebrity in your area. It was for this reason that when the war broke out you were granted such a lofty position. The army - swollen with ranks of volunteers - is sorely hurting for experienced officers and leaders, and you qualify as both.

Another distant burst of cannon fire returns your thoughts to the battle. At this range you can't tell if you're hearing the guns of your Chartist enemies or if they belong to your own forces. After all, you're all equipped with weapons from the same arsenals.

This battle - nearly joined in earnest - is to be the first, and hopefully last of this dynastic struggle.

General or not, it isn't you who leads this army into battle. That honor belongs to General Reginald Van Mercer, Hero of the Uplands War. It was Van Mercer who'd led forces into battle at the side of High King Donavyn and staved off the Casmian land grab. Van Mercer was the force of personality behind this motley collection of men and arms, the Army of the Antary. A staunch Legitimist, a brilliant leader, charismatic speaker, and outspoken opponent of the Chartists, Van Mercer had been a clear pick to command the army on its formation.

More surprising was that he chose you to serve as his second.

You'd hardly gotten a chance to know the man before you were pressed into action, marshalling and directing columns of men and material, goading this lumbering behemoth of an army into the march. Van Mercer led from the front of the column as the Army of the Antary marched onto the offensive.

The storms of last night and the nights previous had swollen the River Camille up to the crest of its banks, flooding ferry points and washing out a number of major bridges. An act of the gods some would say, one that will see the Chartist army delivered into your hands today.

Van Mercer had seen opportunity. A week prior, the Chartist army had begun to cross the river when the rains came. Now, they were split in two, giving a chance for your force to strike and smash the exposed half of their army against the river.
>>
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It was difficult to keep up with the mind of a man like Van Mercer. He'd brooked no argument and hadn't even held council of war before unveiling his plan and executing it. If anyone was going to return the throne of Aerthys to its rightful holders, it would be him.

You'd been called to his side by courier shortly after battle was joined. Previously you'd been in the rear overseeing the deployment of your army's baggage train, now you're riding up to confer with the general.

On nearing the front, the sounds of battle grow louder still. The wooded lowlands you ride through fall away and you crest a rise into a cleared, hilly valley. The basin of the River Camille lies stretched before you from this vantage point.

Wispy gun smoke already drifts across the open ground. Fresh clouds billow out from a quartet of guns sited on a distant hill, on the opposite side of the river. Chartist artillery batteries lending fire toward their brothers stranded across the river.

Legitimist guns respond in kind. Barking fire from a nearby wood line.

A sense of urgency fills the air. You can see infantry regiments racing to deploy in the lee of nearby hills, sheltering from the enemy guns. Ragged grey-white lines of Legitimists are mirrored by the burgundy clad lines of Chartist forces assembled along hilltops and fence lines.

The sight of this impending battle leaves you momentarily stunned. You don't notice the approaching dispatch rider until he wheels his steed to a halt beside you.

"General Belmont, sir. This way please." He's a young man, barely twenty. In peacetime you would say he cut a dashing figure in his white cavalryman's uniform, saber at his hip, feather plume in his hat. Now, he just looks tired and frightened. The cuffs of his trousers are stained a deep brown from wading through mud.

You follow the courier at a canter, circling around the backside of a bare hill before ascending to its top. A small farmstead is here, ringed with a wooden picket fence toppled in several places by passing forces. The white cross banner of the Legitimists flies from the porch of the farmhouse and a knot of officers stand dismounted in the front lawn.

Following their lead, you dismount and approach uncertainly. Your boots squelch in thick mud as you quickly cross the yard to them.

As you get nearer, the men turn and take note of you. This is Van Mercer's command staff, the leaders of this force stand gathered. In all nearly half a dozen brigadier and major generals are here and in their midst is Van Mercer himself, the hero of the Uplands.
>>
Van Mercer lies dead on a stretcher laid in the grass. His left arm is gone just below the shoulder. His white uniform is stained a deep red with blood, matching the cross around it.

You stop in shock and stare down at the dead man. His face is palid, ashy, but strangely calm.

"It was quick," a nearby officer says, noting your concern. The breast of his jacket is painted red with a splash of blood.

"Chartist cannonball took his arm clean off," another says.

"He called for you before he passed," the first man - a colonel - says.

Your initial reaction is to ask "why". Why had Van Mercer called for you. It was a foolish question of course. He called for you in his dying moments because he expected you to lead this army into battle.

You push aside pointless questions. There is no time. A glance up shows you both armies maneuvering to engage. The battle is joined and you have no time to delay.

"Where are the division commanders?" you ask, voice hoarse.

"Here, sir." A man with an elegantly styled goatee steps forward. General Withers. You recognize him but have never met him personally.

Sense finds you and you pick out the other two. General Harlan and General Branch.

"And the cavalry? Where is General Moers?"


"Here." Moers is a spitting image of a cavalryman. Gold braid decorates the front of his tunic and he wears a long, drooping mustache. Moers lights a cigar with a match after acknowledging. His face reveals not a care in the world.

"What is our disposition? What was General Van Mercer's plan of attack?" you ask.

The divisional commanders look at one another, concerned. "We'd hoped you might tell us, sir," Withers says.

"He'd given no orders when the ball found him," Branch adds. "We were preparing the line."

Dread grips your gut.

"What is our disposition. Show me."
>>
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You're taken to a nearby map table with a canvas spread of the area on it. You scan it quickly and get your bearings. You're centered roughly on a crossroads in the middle of the Legitimist line.

"My division is deployed in the woods on the edge of the high ground here." Withers gestures to the map. "General Branch's forces are centered on our location here. General Harlan's men are still coming up from the south, moving to our right to secure the woodlands there."

You nod, mind racing. What was Van Mercer trying to do?

"And the enemy?"

"They're fixed opposite us," Branch says. "In the rolling downs before the river."

The ground ahead is uneven. A bumpy patchwork of hills and farmland before it reaches the river. All things considered, it's not a bad defensive arrangement.

"Their numbers?" you ask.

No one answers. You look at each of them before your eyes fall on Moers.

"General Moers, has the cavalry ascertained enemy numbers?"

Moers puffs on his cigar. "Not as such. General Van Mercer was confident of local superiority. Most of my cavalry are spread to our far flanks, watching for enemy attempts to ford the river."

Most of the enemy line is well observed. Their right flank however is out of sight. Whether it extends into the woods to the north, curls back to the river, or hangs in the air is unknown.

You don't like having no cavalry to call upon to exploit a gap in the enemy lines.

Moer's cavalry are equipped with short-barreled carbines, pistols, and sabers. They function as light cavalry and are capable of recon, raiding, harassment of enemy lines, as well as mounted charges when required.

When charging down a fixed line, cavalry won't tend to last long, but if the enemy can be shaken or their line disrupted, Moer's brigade might just be able to wreak havoc on their lines.

Recalling Moers will also leave your flanks unguarded however. If the Chartists cross the River Camille further east or west with the rest of their army, you might find yourself fatally outflanked.


>Recall Moers' cavalry brigade to act as a mobile reserve
>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross
>>
>>4755005
>>Recall Moers' cavalry brigade to act as a mobile reserve

please change the color from white OP, it's difficult to read.
>>
>>4755005
>>Recall Moers' cavalry brigade to act as a mobile reserve
We have to act rapidly to make sure we're not going to be overrun before we can make use of him.
>>
>>4755005
>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross
>>
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>>4755019
Apologies. How's this?
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>>4755064
much better, thanks
>>
Will continue this in 12 hours
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>>4754821
>A one-shot gunpowder period war game

Shame, not enough quests in this genre come up, and I do like your writing QM.

>>4755005
>>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross

Instead of wasting time waiting for the cav, lets put pressure on their center with Branchs division, use the half of Harlans division still on the road to reinforce our center while the other half continues to secure the flank, if we can break their center their line will crumble.
>>
>>4755005
>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross
>>
>>4755005

>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross

It's tempting to hold back a reserve, but if they sneak around the flank, we'll be exposed. Plus, there isn't a lot of open ground behind us for them to maneuver, so if they aren't crossing over, Moer can roll their flank and charge in using the open space to build momentum while our infantry holds them in place.
>>
>>4755546
>Shame, not enough quests in this genre come up, and I do like your writing QM.
Thanks! If I enjoy myself I might try to run more of these, maybe something like a miniseries, but don't hold your breath.

Expect this to continue here soon.
>>
>>4755005
>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross
These aren't heavy Cav, leave them do do their job as scouts/recon. If they do find the enemy on the flank they can buy time harrassing them as they form up...
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>>4755005
Oh cool period powder is dope.

If we can extend the left flank and put skirmishers to harrass the left of the line we'll be able to exert severe pressure on them holding the bridge.

Granted we need more intelligence on what could be on the left.

>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross
>>
>Leave Moer to watch the river on your flanks to ensure the enemy doesn't cross
>>4755058
>>4755546
>>4755561
>>4755568
>>4755659
>>4755991

Writing
>>
You can't risk the enemy arriving unexpectedly on your flank. Better to leave Moers where he is for now.

The boom of cannons is now joined by the irregular popping of musket fire. Skirmishers and pickets are taking potshots at one another as each jockeys for control of key areas between the lines.

Now, you'll need to commit to an attack somewhere. The purpose of this entire maneuver is to smash the enemy, and you can't do that by dawdling. Withers' division on your right is fully formed up, as is Branch in your center. Harlan is still marching for the left flank at present.

"General Harlan, how long before your division is in position in those woods to our left?"

"Give me an hour, general," Harlan says. "It's rough ground with poor roads. I have reports of enemy cavalry and skirmishers slowing my column up as well."

"General, the enemy are already beginning to dig in and fortify their positions," Withers says. "We can't delay our attack very long."

A glance at your watch shows you that it is almost precisely 8:00 AM. Giving the enemy an hour of free time might enable them to dig in and adjust their disposition. They'll become harder to dislodge the longer you wait.

Your men are already well concentrated here at your center. You can launch a direct attack at the enemy line angled at Shedford itself. With Branch's division leading and Harlan's following behind you might just breach the enemy line.

However, if the enemy flank is exposed in some way, Harlan's division might be able to strike from those woods and roll the whole line. You could wait for him to get in position before attacking or you could send Withers' division forward in a feint on the enemy left. If Withers attacks their left, they may weaken their right in support.


>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position
>Send Branch and Harlan forward now with an attack on the enemy center
>Hold the line until Harlan is in position and ready
>Write in
>>
>>4756217
>>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position
>>
>>4756217
>Write in
Concentrate artillery on the enemy right.
Start digging in in the forrest.
>>
>>4756217
>>Write in
>>4755546

Dont want to leave the left completely unguarded
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>>4756217
Hmmm I suspect their reserves are actually positoned on the left to even the line, either that or their skirmishers are in the woods so they can elevate an advantage if/when reinforcements arrive as holding the two forests kinda forces us into a harder slog to take the bridge.

It all hinges on information we do not have yet and we risk losing our momentum by digging in or waiting, at least with a attack of some sort we'll be pressuring their line forcing them to second guess any judgements on the defence.

>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position
>>
>>4756217
>>Send Branch and Harlan forward now with an attack on the enemy center
>>
>>4756217
>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position
>Write in
The presence of enemy skirmishers slowing down Harlan's division indicates they don't want him to take their right flank.
Buy him time to do so.
Meanwhile shift artillery fire from the centre to roll down the lines of the enemy left. Withers' attach will force them to hold their ranks and the oblique artillery from our centre can rake through those long lines.
>>
>>4756217
>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position
If we had Moers divisions free, we could've used them to keep of the skirmishers from attacking Harlan's troops. But I think an attack launched on their left flank will be optimal for allowing Harlan to get into position and if it's needed, our and Branch's troops could lay the heat on their frontlines as support.
>>
>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position
>>4756221
>>4756290
>>4756302
>>4756851

>Send Branch and Harlan forward now with an attack on the enemy center
>>4756282
>>4756293

>Send Wither's division forward with a general attack on the enemy left to buy time for Harlan to get into position

Writing
>>
"General Harlan, I suspect the enemy don't want you to take those woods on our left. See that you do."

Harlan grins and snaps you a tight salute. "Yes, sir!" He adjusts his bifocals and takes to his horse.

"General Withers?"

"Sir?"

"Are you men ready to deploy?"

"Sir, my boys are itching to fight. We'll see those Usurpers in hell come sunset."

You return a tight smile, "I'm sure you will. Harlan's division will have to secure our left before we can try to turn the enemy line. You take a few steps away from the gaggle of officers, leading Withers with you.

You gestured with a gloved hand to your right, across rolling hills toward the heavy woods Wither's division is in now.

Shell fire whistles and explodes in the wood line, dropping heavy boughs down onto the half-seen mean who shelter beneath them.

"General," you say, "Your division is drawn up and ready while the others yet march. Take the fight to the enemy. Cross the turnpike and take the ridgeline there-" you trace your hand across the avenue of advance before reaching the main Chartist line.

The red-white flower banner of Chartism flutters in the breeze on the higher ground. The maroon infantry around it trace a blood line across the hill.

"Clear the enemy off that position and - if practicable - drive them back into the Camille River."

"That's clear ground sir," Withers says. "It will be bloody work."

"I'll direct the bulk of our guns to bombard enemy positions when you begin your advance. Form your line and attack as soon as possible."

"We'll break them, general."

"Gods go with you," you say.

After Withers departs, you watch as a pair of stretcher bearers carry General Van Mercer from the field on a litter. His body is limp, lifeless, and broken. Such promise he'd held in life. Such gallantry. How things might have turned out if Van Mercer had lived is not your question to answer. You just must do the best you are able this day.
>>
"Here sir."

You take the offered field glasses with a word of thanks. They're light, a construct of brass and glass, finely made. You're about to ask their origin before you see Van Mercer's family seal between the eye pieces.

You observe your lines through the glasses, surveying right to left. Legitimist banners flutter alongside regional colors. Porthladd, Dryver, Rennburg- all are in evidence. Men and boys here for common cause, many about to breathe their last. All are gathered here in service of deposing the hated usurpers and their vile cause.

Shot and shell occasionally buzz and scream overhead, but you hardly flinch. It would do you no good anyhow. The old soldier's adage was "the bullet you hear isn't calling your name".

A round bounces from the base of the hill you stand on and cleaves the chimney from the farmhouse with a burst of masonry and dust. Horses whinny in panic. More and more shellfire seems to be coming your way.

Tearing your eyes from the field glasses you look around in confusion until you spot the knot of adjutants and pages nearby.

"Get those banners back down the hill!" you order.

These men have brought with them a stand of gorgeous, gold-braided flags. They make exemplary targets for Chartist gunners.

As the flag bearers withdraw, the enemy fire tapers off again.

"This is a war, not a parade," you mutter.

Within minutes you see movement on your right again.

Wither's division emerges as one from the woods. A stream of grey-white infantry follow their colors to form into regiments and brigades on the open ground. A full division drawn up in battle line is a sight to behold. The white-cross banners of each brigade command fly proudly as sergeants dress the lines to perfection.

This preparatory work is no mere pageantry. Once the fighting is joined in earnest all a man can focus on is his fellows at either shoulder and the sergeant behind him. Neat lines can help curtail confusion and inertia.

Chartist shells plow deadly furrows in the neat ranks. Hot iron skips across the ground before bowling through the human lines, leaving trails of broken bodies. Other shells explode and scatter deadly iron splinters, dropping scores of screaming men.

Your field glasses don't allow distance to spare you the carnage. Legitimist white is stained a deep purple. Blood-slick organs and splintered bone are exposed to the air.

Your guns bark and boom in kind, throwing a hail of shells at the enemy line. Their angle here enables enfilading fire to run down the usurper's ranks. The response is strong, but not enough to shift the enemy on its own. You just hope it will be enough.
>>
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An unheard command ripples through the eight thousand odd men of Withers command and the line starts forward as one. As soon as it moves any semblance of parade order is lost. The men slouch their shoulders and duck their heads as if walking into a fierce gale. The natural lay of the land and man made obstacles like farms and fences further break up the division. Regiments fall out of place, companies shift their way, brigades drift apart.

You can't look away, tracking every step with your glasses, willing Wither's boys to march a little quicker, move a little surer.

The division halts just shy of the turnpike road and quickly dresses ranks. Now comes time for the push.

The turnpike runs along a low rise between the Chartist ridgeline and the Wither's woods. It's a modicum of cover, one they leave behind.

A singular powerful volley snaps out from the Chartist lines and Wither's men fall like scythed wheat. As they cross the turnpike they leave a thin carpet of the dead and wounded behind. Now the line breaks down into something more like an armed mob. Men stop the advance to fire or reload and others glom onto then.

It goes against a man's instincts to march into fire without returning it. It is the sergeant's job to ensure the privates keep moving and do not stop to shelter or give fire.

You've heard in the neighboring nation of Farsché that it is traditional for infantry charges to be conducted with muskets unloaded to prevent this exact type of behavior. Here in Aerthys you are too married to the power of a musket ball to forsake it entirely for the bayonet.

You hear the wailing cry of Wither's men as they break into a run, scurrying up the shallow slope of the ridge. They come to a halt scarcely one hundred yards from the enemy and unleash a volley of fire. When the Chartists return a ragged volley, musket smoke thickens the air and limits your view.
>>
The guns around you stop firing for fear of hitting their own men.

Your observation of the battle is limited to hearing the continuous ripple of gunfire and seeing half-glimpsed banners flutter to and fro and men fight for their lives.

You look to your watch to see that scarcely thirty minutes have passed.

A few scattered bands of men flee from the battle. Some run with the speed of cowards, others limp or crawl or are carried out by comrades. So far neither lime has budged.

You see a courier close at a gallop from the right, one of Wither's men.

"Sir!" he salutes, out of breath. "General Withers sends his compliments and reports the enemy are giving way sir!"

You take another look through your glasses, a desperate attempt to gain and more information which gets you nothing.

"He's taken the ridgeline?"

"Yes, sir. The Usurpers are falling back to the hills beyond. My general has instructed me to tell you that the division has taken terrible losses and he needs time to rally his boys."

If you give the enemy time to regroup then you'll find the path forward just as difficult as it was the first time, however, if you press Wither's men there is a chance they might break under pressure.

You leave the courier to wait a moment, turning back to Van Mercer's - now your staff. "Has there been word from General Harlan?"

"Nothing, sir. Shall I check his progress?"

"Send a courier and find out for me."

You're not sure if your right feint has bought enough time for Harlan or sufficiently weakened their right, but it has battered their left. Sadly you have no reserves to easily exploit it.


>Have Withers hold and regroup
>Have Wither's press the attack
>Send Branch's division forward to support Wither's attack.
>Write in
>>
>>4756973
>Have Withers hold and regroup

We'll have to settle for this attack being indecisive. It was never meant to be the main effort anyways. I'd rather have Branch ready to repulse a counter attack or to perform a general attack as Moer and Harlan hopefully exploit a weakness on our enemy's right flank. We shouldn't have committed both of them there if we wanted to exploit a gap in the middle and have that be the decisive move.

That being said, if someone more familiar with this era's tactics wants to give a better answer to this situation, then go for it.
>>
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>>4756973
>Have Withers hold and regroup
We cannot risk his soldiers being reduced to ragged groups susceptible to a counterattack leading to the loss of the ridge.
>Send Branch's division forward to support Wither's attack
Hell, I think it's time for Branch to press on. If Harlans sucessfully positions himself and if Withers regroups, we can ride the momentum and push on with our own troops. Of course, pepper those Chartist with cannonballs until they're nice squishy.
>>
>>4756973
>>4757026
If it speeds things along, I'll support this as well, just so we have consensus until other anons come along.
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>>4756973
>Have Withers hold and regroup
The objective was to buy time and force the enemy to react. We have the ridgeline and the enemy left is in disarray. Let's do what they were attempting and have Withers dig his troops in. Hell, limber the guns that were originally covering the enemy left and position them on that prime real estate, fire down on the bastards. Have the rest of the guns resume their suppression of the rest of the enemy lines.
Wait to hear from Harlan before committing the centre, we need to ensure the enemy right won't be in a position to exploit a supporting attack. That being said, ready the centre troops to march at a moment's notice once we do have the report.
>>
>>4756973
>>Send Branch's division forward to support Wither's attack.

With one section of their line breaking it will hopefully be easier to crack the center, with the bridge taken we will have the field.
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>>4756973
>>Send Branch's division forward to support Wither's attack.
>>
>>4757026
This. Withers to hold, Branch to advance and support. We don't want to waste Withers's strength too early but pushing forward retains the initiative and takes pressure off of Harlan.
>>
>Have Withers hold and regroup
>>4757098

>Send Branch's division forward to support Wither's attack.
>>4757026
>>4757101
>>4757141
>>4757197


Writing
>>
"General Branch," you call.

Branch rides alongside you, pulling his steed to a stop. The horse whinnies and treads uneasily, turning lazy circles in place. "General."

"Withers' boys have cast the die but they are in need of some assistance to press the enemy off their high ground and into the river. We'll redirect our guns north to try to soften the enemy positions. Send your division forward and break their center."

"Aye, sir!" Branch salutes and gallops off to rally his men.

"You'll take a message back to General Withers?" you ask the waiting courier.

He nods with youthful enthusiasm.

"Give your general my regards. Tell him that I am well pleased with the bravery and gallantry of his boys. I am sending Branch's division in support on his left. Above all else he must hold the hill he's taken. If possible, he should press. I can taste victory."

The courier salutes. "Anything further, general?"

You decline with a slight head shake and raise your field glasses again.

You're close enough to Branch's infantry to hear the shouts of their officers, rousing men from their half-hearted earthworks. Somewhere nearby a fife and drum begin the play "the Selkie's Lover", a popular song along Aerthys's coast.

A regiment of troops with the green-striped flag of Debyn Vyre hurries by at a double quick march. Their long, silvery bayonets flash in the sun. Most of them wear civilian clothes augmented with hastily-dyed white cloaks.

Nearby gun crews swab out the barrels with water to cool and clean them before wheeling the guns around to face left, along the angle in the Chartist lines. The batteries fire in sequence. Each gun booming and rocking back on its wheels as the crew struggle to reposition it. The battery commander straddles a split rail fence, raising his head as high as he dares to better view the effect of his fire with a collapsible looking glass.

"D gun, come left five degrees and fire!" he calls.

The fourth gun fires and smoke washes back across your position, momentarily blinding you.

Chartist return fire comes swiftly. Shells crash into the earth and roar by. One of the battery's gunners is struck by the ball, his head carried from his shoulders in an instant.

Through the thick veil of smoke Branch's brigades from up and advance. The ground they cross is rougher than that before Withers so there is no dramatic division-wide advance. Individual companies weave around barns, fences, orchards, and cabins.

Within minutes they're joined in battle with the Chartists. Both sides trade volleys of musketry which soon devolve into the general cacophonous roar of combat as men load and fire at their own speed. Reports aren't long in coming back: the Chartists are giving way, but slowly.
>>
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With a near constant flow of couriers to travel up and down your line, you snatch bits and pieces of information detailing the flow of the battle.

On your right, Withers' division is pretty well exhausted. They're holding their own on the ridgeline but have made no headway against the enemy.

In the center, early gains by Branch's men lead to a breakthrough which was then repulsed with a Chartist counter attack. A fresh brigade storming up from Shedford to blunt the assault and throw back your men. An unexpected setback, but not catastrophic.

On your left, Harlan has encountered a full brigade of Chartist infantry coming up on your left, seeking to turn your flank. His men are engaged in a fierce engagement in the woods and steadily driving them back, but the close quarters are giving him trouble deploying his full division.

Of General Moers and his cavalry there has been no word. You'd sent a courier to collect his status and have not yet heard back.

It's creeping up on 10AM.

With Moers cavalry you might be able to force a breakthrough somewhere, but you don't know his current status, or that of the enemy across the river.

Given enough time, Harlan may be able to clear the woods and turn the enemy flank, but it's going to be slower than initially anticipated.

His reserve brigade could be detached and assigned to join Branch's attack, but this will rob Harlan's attack of momentum and could create command confusion by marching them through another division.


>Send a courier to recall Moers brigade at once
>Give Harlan time to turn the flank
>Detach a brigade from Harlan to join Branch's attack
>Write in
>>
>>4757264
>>Give Harlan time to turn the flank
>>
>>4757264
>>Send a courier to recall Moers brigade at once
>>
>>4757264
>Send a courier to recall Moers brigade at once

I think they have played their hand, assuming Moers wasn't caught out somewhere, somehow, then we should use him to exploit any breakthrough once he is recalled.

I don't want to create command confusion or micromanage or otherwise rob Harlan of his own initiative by "stealing" his reserve brigade and for all we know he may need it if he is facing the enemy's primary means of defeating us, which I believe he is given the enemy evidently did not want us to know they intended on flanking us.
>>
>>4757264
>Send a courier to recall Moers brigade at once
>>
>>4757315
+1
Harlan looks like he'll need that reserve. Perhaps encourage him to make a move while recalling Moers to exploit any breaks that may result.
>>
>Send a courier to recall Moers brigade at once

Writing
>>
Raising a hand, you signal a rider who trots over.

"Go out and find me general Moers. We'll need his horsemen urgently if we're to resolve this thing."

The courier salutes and spurs his horse on.

The battle has moved well beyond your ability to observe it from this hill here. You have no intent to micromanage but you aren't content to sit and stare at smoke clouds. With a few words, you gather your command staff and set off to the north west, following Harlan's footsteps.

You're careful to leave a lieutenant at your command post with word to relay messages to your new position.

Down from the hill, the sounds of battle have faded to a dull rumble. The road you ride is a sunken track, its banks lined with scrub and rocks. Here also are the men who fell out from the march north. Cool spring weather or not, a march is hard on men, especially volunteers unused to the rigors of war.

Men lie singly and in small bunches here and there, their jackets unbuttoned, faces flushed red, trying to catch their breath.

A provost guard rides the road, one hand on a holstered carbine, the other issuing paper slips to men who've fallen out, absolving them of the crime of desertion.

Your presence fills some of these with a desperate vigor. Shame can be a powerful motivator, even in the face of exhaustion.

A band of privates rally themselves and get to their feet as you pass. "We'll be up at the lines presently, general!" one calls as you ride past.

"If you boys don't hurry you're likely to miss the whole affair," you reply.
>>
Your good cheer doesn't last long for soon you come across the first of the dead. Batches of Legitimist infantry lay where they fell. Curled and sprawled with their weapons. Their uniforms are soaked with blood and viscera. Beyond them you find the wounded, an even more heart-wrenching sight.

The worst among them lay and stare at the sky, glassy eyed. Their chests rise and fall with hitching breaths. They're a step from death's gate, not long for this world. Less fortunate are the grievously wounded who are going into the beyond fully cognizant and full of agony. A boy with his bell torn open by a shell splinter cries out in pain, well beyond the ability of mortal men to save.

"Water, general," another calls, voice horse. His face is white as a sheet and trembles. "Water, please, I beg you." Sweat sheens his forehead and he clutches his left arm in a death grip. The limb hangs limp at an unnatural angle. The bone has likely been shattered by a musket ball. The only saving this soul is through the judicious application of a surgeon's saw to rid him of the limb.

"Water for this man," you direct one of your staff.

They dismount and bring a canteen.

The further you ride the more wounded and dead you find. As the track starts to rise to ascend the woody hill you encounter the first Chartists you've seen face to face. A dozen or so of them stand despondently in the shade of an elm tree, watching you ride by.

These prisoners are under the watchful guard of a pair of nervous looking youths in Legitimist grey.

Among their number you are surprised to recognize the insignia of a captain sewn onto a sleeve. His left arm is in a sling, is left leg in a splint and he looks faint, jaw clenched in pain. Something compels you to stop.

You pull back on your reigns enough for Duchess to stop, allowing you a better look at this man.

"Captain?"

"General," he returns. His voice is tight as he fights back pain.

"Have my surgeons seen to you?"

"Not yet," he says. "Lads did this for me. A couple traitor musket balls in me."

Traitors. That's what they call you. It should come as no surprise that the usurpers feel just as dedicated to their own ill-conceived cause as you are to yours. From the captain's accent he seems to hail from the Uplands. The north of the country is dominated by cold winters, mining towns, and broad plains full of grain.


>"If you'd stayed in your home we wouldn't have had to put the rounds in you"
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
>Say nothing and ride on
>Write in
>>
>>4757458
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"

No reason we cant be civil
>>
>>4757458
>>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
An officer, even an enemy one, is due all courtesy.
>>
>>4757458
>>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"

We are still a gentleman
>>
>>4757458
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
>>
>>4757454
>>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
>>
>>4757458
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"

Civil wars are messy and bloodier than most, something they share in common with wars of religion and ideology. No reason why we can't be civil and have due courtesy handed out without issue, even if our enemy may not give such thought to ourselves.
>>
>>4757458
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
>>
>>4757458
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
Many of the names sound vaguely celtic, Welsh in particular, which I approve of. Thanks op
>>
>>4757264
>>Give Harlan time to turn the flank
>>
>>4757458
>>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"
>>
>"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently"

Writing


>civil
>>4757594
>>4757485
Putting the 'civil' in civil war
>>
>>4757757
>Many of the names sound vaguely celtic, Welsh in particular, which I approve of. Thanks op
Almost missed this.

Thanks! It's a barebones world I've been toying with. Aerthys is a combination of a lot of things, but it's intended to have Welsh/gaelic naming conventions for many places/people.
>>
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"I'll see that a surgeon comes up presently," you say, giving a look to one of your staff who rides off to make it so.

"Obliged, sir," the captain says warily.

"Sir," one of your aids says, gently reminding you of the present situation.

Musket fire roars ahead and you hear the hoarse cries of men charging into battle.

You tip your hat to the Chartist captain who watches you go wordlessly. The further you proceed along the road, the fresher the signs of battle. Wounded men limp back down the road using rifles or one another to lean on. The dead lay in thick drifts, piled in open areas or along cover. As the road enters the woods themselves, your staff draw their revolvers and keep them at the ready, watching the woods. It's probably an unnecessary precaution, but a potentially vital one all the same.

General Harlan's headquarters is centered in a small clearing. The woods around are too thick to allow any dramatic views of the battlefield. Gun smoke floats like a gauzy veil all around, the rich aroma fills your nose when you breath in.

Harlan himself is on foot, holding his horse by the reigns and shouting up at a mounted courier. "I don't care about that! Tell Colonel Dreyfus to press his men in. Give them steel!" The general notices you arrive a moment later and hands off his steed to a waiting aide before hurrying over.

"How goes your attack, general?" you ask.

"Slow going sir. Every damn stump has a Usurper musket behind it seems like. I keep having to shake the line out to push them back."

"They're stalling for time," you say, adjusting your seat in the saddle. "It means we're driving them back."

"Yes, sir. I was just about to swing my first brigade like a door, sweep these skirmishers north, and have my second brigade come across and hit the main enemy line on the flank."

It's a complex maneuver, especially one to conduct in thick woods like this, but it just may open the enemy line, assuming Harlan doesn't tangle his units too badly.


>I trust your instincts, general
>You should keep pressing for that crossroads with your full strength
>Write in
>>
>>4758311
>>I trust your instincts, general
>>
>>4758311
>>I trust your instincts, general

If we take the forest we have a salient point point to apply pressure on their line and would turn further pushes on their part into an encirclement which would force them to readress the line.
>>
>>4758311
>>I trust your instincts, general
If you think your men are disciplined enough to pull off such a manoeuvre then by all means. Though I wish you to state truthfully if you have any doubts in their abilities. While I trust your instincts to command, you will need to trust your men to carry it out. Otherwise I will insist you take a less complicated approach.
>>
>>4758311
>>I trust your instincts, general
>>
>I trust your instincts, general

Writing
>>
You survey the area around you. "This is rough ground, general, are you sure your boys can make that maneuver through here?"

"Truthfully, sir? I couldn't say. Half this lot have never held a musket before, let alone done drill. I don't see what other choice we have to get these men into the fight though sir. Could be another hour before we sweep these woods clear."

"Then I trust your instincts, general Harlan," you reply. "If you can clear back the enemy and gain a foothold in these woods then we'll have a silent point to apply pressure on their line. If we do this business right we'll trap the whole lot in Shedford."

Harlan is pleased. "We'll do you proud, sir."

Satisfied with the situation on your left, you gather your staff and return to the center of your line. As you ride back down the sunken road you pass the Chartist captain again, now being seen to by a blood-drenched surgeon, assessing his wounds. The captain's face is a stoic mask of pain but he vehemently refuses to cry out in pain as his wounds are probed. He watches you ride by again, eyes defiant.

As you ascend the hill of your central command post, you see two message riders galloping up from your right, the two men you sent to find Moer.

"General, sir!" the first stands in his stirrups, hauling back the reigns to stop his horse. "General Moers has declined your order to return."

Your lips tug down in a frown, "Declined?"

"Yes, sir, he reports a full division of usurper infantry crossing the river to the east sir!" he points back toward Wither's division.

"He's delaying with everything he has, but can't hold them forever."

"How'd they get across?" one of your aides blurts.

"They must've found an intact bridge or crossable ford, sir. The general didn't elaborate."

"How far out?" you ask.

"I'd estimate at least an hour away, sir. Moers was confident he could delay them at least that long."

You have no reserves to send to Moer's aid. If he's right in his assessment, a fresh division of Chartist infantry on this side of the River Camille leaves you outnumbered. Van Mercer's plan hinged on local numerical superiority.


>Have Withers draw back his line to refuse our flank and prepare of the enemy
>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive
>We've lost our opportunity. Order a general withdrawal.
>Write in
>>
>>4758444
>>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive
>>
>>4758444
>>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive

If we don't destroy one group now, then we'll be facing numeric superiority and will lose given one group is fresh while we're bloodied.

We could withdraw, but that'd be throwing away the progress we've made so far.
>>
>>4758444
>>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive

all right its a bit of a do or die situation now, we either commit to taking the bridge and hopfully forcing them to yield the field or we take the loss and pull back and fortify if not order a general withdrawal.

If we dig in on a with drawal our right risk being outflanked even if we dig in at the forest given numbers.
>>
>>4758444
>>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive
>>
>>4758444
>>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive
>>
>>4758468
Indeed, and in the meanwhile Harlan's success could become a cascade. Take the forest and we can rain fire upon the flanks of our left, which would free up a considerable number of soldiers from the Branch Division
>>
>>4758444
>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive

The other anons have already covered our dire situation. The only thing to add is that Harlan may suffer for his boldness, if he can't coordinate his green troops well, then his reserve brigade may essentially be dislocated for a few crucial minutes and he may suffer enfilading fire through his main line as he 'swings his first brigade like a door'.

If that happens, we may be forced into a fighting retreat if Withers and Branch can't carry the day, or perhaps even if they do.
>>
>>4758715
True, but they're also skirmishers, so our line infantry should be able to rout them for enough time to tie down the enemy and free some of branch's Ken
>>
>>4758738
Men*
>>
>>4758738
I suppose. I guess this probably is safer than I initially thought, rereading the ground is rough and heavily forested so Harlan's men are probably broken up and less vulnerable to enfilading fire from all the tree cover and dispersion. Enfilading fire wouldn't be able to rake down his entire line, so my initial worry seems to have be a over-quick anxiety on my end rather than a precise reading of the situation.
>>
>Have withers and Branch redouble their attacks, we must break the enemy here before reinforcements arrive

Writing
>>
You've given too much here to turn back now, and refusing your flank is tantamount to throwing away any potential victory you might score here.

"Return to Moers and tell him to delay at all costs. We have the enemy pinned and with enough time we can break them. We just need time."

"Sir!" the rider gallops off.

You signal another one. "Branch and Withers are to redouble their attacks. Tell them to make all possible effort to throw the enemy into the Camille. They are to stop for nothing."

The sun is directly overhead now, the morning coolness has been baked away and you get a taste of the brutal summer to come.

"It's all down to time tables now," you say to yourself, checking your watch. "Let's see which of us is quicker on the draw."

News comes back soon from Harlan's division, his brigade wheeling maneuver has driven a gap in the enemy line large enough for his fresh brigade to come storming in. The brigade in question - primarily made of the roughhewn mountain folk of Foebadyn - streams from the woods, howling like banshees to drive on the town of Shedford.
>>
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The brigade smashes like a wave against the battered chartist infantry already reeling from Branch's attack earlier in the day. Like a pebble turning a mountain to a landslide, the Chartist line begins to shift.

You can feel it breaking. From your command post on the hill you can see the Chartist colors fluttering uncertainly, wavering as if on the cusp of retreat.

The right of your line doesn't fare as well. Withers' men leave the captured ridgeline behind to press after the Chartists who now occupy the hills beyond. You can see them go up the hillside in brave bands, bayonets flashing in the sun. You also see them bet beaten back with rippling volleys of musket fire.

They're cut apart again and again as they press the attack on the hills. Legitimist flags - shot full of holes - flutter boldy in the hazy battlefield before dropping as the color bearers are felled one by one.

Your gun batteries do what they can to repress the enemy, but the range isn't as clear as it was at the start of the battle. Some of your batteries are likewise being rushed forward to deploy on the newly captured high ground on your left. Once you have a few batteries overlooking the bridge at Shedford your victory will be all but complete.

Where Withers exhausted regiments falter and fail, Branch's succeed, carrying the Legitimist cross to the heights outside of Shedford, pursuing a routing Chartist line.

Within half an hour, the Chartist right is collapsing and falling back in panic to the town of Shedford, now in range of your guns which have set the town aflame.

The Chartist right is crumbling, soldiers are choking the burning town to try to escape over its lone bridge. Their left still holds firm but given enough time it will roll up.

Time may be what you don't have.
>>
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You can faintly see the arrival of Moers cavalry on your far right. Horsemen gallop back in ragged columns before fanning out and forming a loose skirmish line. Riders dismount as the horses are led away. Just minutes behind them are thick columns of maroon Chartist soldiers marching at the double quick down the broad dirt roads following the river.

Gunfire crosses between both sides, but it's clear Moers' cavalry are outnumbered and outmatched.

Soon after a rider relays those details to you. "General Moers reports he can no longer hold the Chartists, sir. Half his men are dead or wounded. The usurpers are coming on strong, sir!"

You want to swear but hold back for the sake of those around you. When Moers breaks, that fresh Chartist division will fall on Withers' flank and roll him up. His battered division will likely go to pieces and with it, your line.

But, if you draw back you'll be relieving pressure on the enemy in Shedford, allowing them an overland retreat to safety.

Either way, total victory seems beyond your grasp.


>Have Moers hold as long as he can, we will continue to press the attack until we cannot
>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack
>We've bloodied the enemy, draw back all divisions to the high ground and make the enemy come to us.
>Write in
>>
>>4759351
>>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack

They'll still have a lot of men trapped on this side of the river
>>
>>4759351
>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack

I wish we had only had Branch and Harlan attack and had retained Withers since his division was the first to take ground and casualities whereas Branch and Harlan seemed to have more men fresh. Nothing to be done about it now.

I'm worried that Withers' men are to battered to refuse our flank, but we seem to be doing well in the center and can probably take some men from there to reinforce Withers if need be.

Our victory (if it is indeed a victory) will not be total but we can punish the men still trapped on this side of the river, columns of men crossing a bridge actually takes a surprisingly long time when there are thousands of them, anyone who has read military documents about how long it takes a column to walk from their morning camp down a road past the men meant to carry up the rear and let them take their place in the line knows it takes literal hours.
>>
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If we push some of the Harlan and Branch man forward, we might be able to have some of the soldiers from the Whithers to be able to properly protect our flank. It won't be a lot of time, sure, but all we need is enough time to free up Harlan's men and reform our line to the east. The Chartist forces by Shedford seem to be on the brink of collapse, if we stop their coup-de-grace then there is no doubt that these men will route.

Speaking of this, do NOT destroy the bridge. We WANT their men to escape. Like Sun Tzu said, always leave a way for men to escape. If the Chartist have no way to escape, their men will fight till the last breath and we will be destroyed. Have Moers retreat and regroup, but have him help the Whithers to hold. That's all we need, we need them to hold the line for a few moments more. Divert some of our batteries to lay down supressing fire to the enemies.

Harlan *MUST* destroy those skirmishers and Turn to the right. We NEED to turn our line to the left, free up their men to allow the Whithers to only worry about one front.
>>
>>4759416
We wont have a "total victory", but if we play our cards right and Harlan does his job, we'll be able to heavily bleed the Chartist forces - even if we suffer a bloody nose , their casualties shall be far higher.

Do remember that we are a really shitty scenario - our main general, and whatever plans he may have had, died in the middle of the battle. We started with an disadvantage, so as long we maintain our objectives, repel the enemy and not suffer more casualties than them it'll be a damn good victory for us.
>>
>>4759351
>>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack
>>
>>4759351
>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack
>>
>>4759351
>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack
>>
>>4759447
>>4759351

Supporting this in addition to the >Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack prompt.

>>4759456
I mean...I basically agreed with you already.
>>
>>4759585
I was mostly just adding some details to the idea.
>>
>Order Withers to refuse his line, draw back to the high ground and prepare to receive the attack

writing
>>
You send an urgent rider for Withers with orders to disengage and curl back, refusing the line and denying the enemy a chance to outflank you. It will allow some of the trapped Chartists to escape, but it will also - hopefully - stave off your army's destruction.

Artillery batteries are repositioned to sight down the river road, angled along the Chartists' line of advance. Soon enough they begin to boom, sending shells down range to disrupt and batter the marching columns.

Branch's division continues its impetuous advance on Shedford which is now well and truly engulfed in flames. A rising pillar of smoke marks the town from a distance. Waves of white-clad infantry close in, batting away half-hearted attempts to slow their attack.

A rider from your left arrives. "Report from General Harlan, sir!"

You lower your field glasses to give him attention.

"General Harlan wishes you to know that Colonel Idle's brigade is too entangled in with the enemy disengage."

Harlan's little cross-wise maneuver was costing him now. Units were getting mixed up, enemy skirmishers were tying down larger bands with chaotic fighting in the deep woods. The brigade that got clear and joined Branch's attack would likely suffer a command breakdown soon as well so removed from its division commander.

"What brigade of Harlan's moves on Shedford?"

"Colonel Beddoe, sir."

"Inform Colonel Beddoe and General Harlan that Beddoe is to report to General Branch for his orders. I need Beddoe to stay with Branch and let Harlan to worry about Colonel Idle and his men." You hope Branch won't take having his command split as a slight against him, but you need to keep the attack moving and can't let a divided command stall it.

The rider departs just as another is arriving, this one from the right.

"What word from General Withers?"

The breathless rider barely salutes. "Withers has fallen sir."

"Fallen?" your heart hitches.

"The general has taken a pair of musket balls, sir. One to the hand and one to his leg. The surgeons say he's not long for this world."

You feel obligated to go to the dying general. It was your orders that condemned him after all. You cast aside the notion as sentimental nonsense. You have a battle to win. "Most terrible," you say. "Gods watch his soul. Who commands?"

"General Maddocks has assumed command of the division, sir. The men are drawing back in good order. I have been asked to tell you they intend to form a line across the road here sir. Their left on the heights there-" he indicates a distant hill, "And their right anchored in the woods."
>>
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You gesture a fresh courier over. "Have Moers cover Withers'-" you stop. "General Maddocks' withdrawal. Upon reaching their new line Moers should form his cavalry on the extreme right to guard against a flank attack." You look back to the first courier. "Tell General Maddocks that I approve of his placement and- if you can- bring my word to Withers. He has done well today."

The courier salutes and rides off.

The tempo of the battle has changed, dying down suddenly as Branch finishes off the men trapped in Shedford. Incessant musketry has fallen off as the bayonet does its bloody work. With the aid of your field glasses you can see large bands of Chartist prisoners being led out of Shedford with many more fallen in the fields around. The town - being pounded with artillery fire - is wreathed in smoke and choked with panicked men trying to crowd over a single narrow bridge.

An unending stream of burgundy-coated soldiers flees over the bridge, streaming into the hills beyond, the safety of their lines. Yet for every man who escapes another falls or surrenders. You grimace to yourself. Van Mercer might have managed to score an absolute victory had he lived, but you've taken what you were left and managed to pull off a win. The Chartist army will survive this engagement, but they will be much worse for wear.

Shedford is all but yours.

Within an hour, the fresh enemy division comes up, spreading into line of battle opposite Withers' old command. So far, they have not attacked, content to simply pin your line. It leaves you concerned that the enemy may yet try to circle your line and hit your far right with fresh troops. If they have crossed more men over it could spell an end to your force.

The only reserve you have to call upon are Branch's men currently pinning in Shedford and bleeding the enemy. Moving his division back to the central crossroads will enable him to respond to any enemy attack on you, but will also let the remaining Chartists in Shedford flee unmolested.

However, if you wait until word of an enemy flank attack comes it may be too late to recall him.


>Let Branch continue to mop up and hope the enemy don't try to flank you
>Withdraw Branch to act as a mobile reserve
>Write in
>>
>>4759721
>Let Branch continue to mop up and hope the enemy don't try to flank you
I think we should let Branch finish his job, we don't want the enemy to possibly continue trouble. We are to have our soldiers in Whithers hold the line.

If we divert our batteries to lay down suppression, then the enemy's advance will slow down. That should give Branch enough time to mop up the remaining soldiers and reinforce the lines when he's able.

But, by "Mop Up" I mean remove any remaining holdouts, not chase every single last soldier. As soon as there isn't any considerable resistance, Branch is to immediately turn and join the main forces.

If the enemy advances, have Whithers tie them down while Moers harassses them. Their superior mobility should give them that ability.
>>
>>4759733
Also, an flank to the left seems unlikely - they would be fighting with the river by the left, and it would result in their southern flank becoming weaker. It would ultimately either result in there being an crossed line of fire (multiple brigades of the Whithers being able to fire upon them) or it would result in their forces being spread too thin to efficiently make a push.

So if they concentrate their forces by the river and push to our left, have our combined forces lay fire upon them from multiple angles (Moers, even weakened, should be good for this job too) and if they don't, then well just hold the line until branch and Harlan come.
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>>4759721
>>Write in

Shift all guns possible to the right flank, order Colonel Beddoe to withdraw and act as a reserve.
>>
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>>4759733
>>4759740
This is what i mean, by the way
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>>4759721
>Let Branch continue to mop up and hope the enemy don't try to flank you

They've just crossed a river and have been harrassed by cavalry and artillery they have to be close to breaking
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>>4759779
That would optimistic to assume, though we can be certain they are by no measure fresh.
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>>4759721
>>Let Branch continue to mop up and hope the enemy don't try to flank you
>>
>>4759721
>>Withdraw Branch to act as a mobile reserve

Personally I think that we've done enough damage for this to be a win, now I want to secure our victory by making sure that we aren't dealt a severe blow in the final hour.

Their division is (relatively) fresh, they may have been harassed for an hour+ plus in comparison Withers (now Maddocks) men have been through the ringer right from the very first action of this battle, and if I recall correctly Moers has straight had half his men killed or seriously wounded, not to mention his horses ought to be very tired by now.

The only thing other than all that that I have to add is that regardless of which choice we commit to, Harlan should either do a gradual partial withdrawal to act as mobile reserve rather than taking all his men out of the woods, because the enemy may re-engage us and if they catch us without men guarding our flank it would be bad, or if the vote to finish them off first wins, I would still hope for a partial withdrawal so we have something to shore up Maddocks and Moers because if I understand things correctly, the skirmishers in the forest are either less in numbers or otherwise less(?) resilent than line troops and thus would require less men commited to them to deal with, plus they've been fighting for a while now and shouldn't be fresh enough to overwhelmed even a reduced Harlan.

Just my thoughts, seems most anons disagree though. I want to make clear the reason I'm anxious is that Maddocks and Moers men are explicitly badly mauled as they have seemingly had the most casualties out of all our divisions and have been committed since the earliest actions and are thus the most tired and low on supplies. Whereas the enemy is relatively fresh with more brigades coming up behind the three brigades forming their line on our right, the graphic may show them as being similar to ours, but remember, they may have been harassed but they probably haven't lost half their men like us. Finally, I think Moers mobility may actually be lessened on account of being in the forest or on uneven ground, this area in general seems to have a fair amount of broken ground.
>>
Ah, wait, my mistake, I must be more tired than I think, I got Harlan and Branch mixed up.
>>
>>4759721

I guess since I screwed up, I would tentatively vote for Harlan to make a partial withdrawal so some of his men can act as the reserve and have his reduced force dig in and hold our far left in the forest as he has been doing. Branch will be done soon and can either reinforce him if he needs or reinforce Maddocks and Moers once he is done, I'd just like us to have SOMEONE to act as a reserve in case Maddocks and Moers cannot hold. That or do as >>4759750 says and get Colonel Beddoe to withdraw and act as are reserve, we just need somebody.
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>>4759750
Honestly, this is our best bet. The left flank is pinned down too heavily, and is too far away, to do any good. We can't remove everything from the center in case they regroup and push back from the bridge. The right flank is in dire need of reinforcements, so we pull back the colonel to bolster the line there and wait for the left flank to be cleared up.
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>>4759987
To add on, if we could frame it as "keep it up he center pinned down and pull all available men to relieve Withers", that would allow Branch to decide the minimum he needs to hold that position. We don't need him pushing further, just to hold and reinforce the right flank.
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>>4759750
This.
Surely an entire division is enough to 'mop up' Beddoe isn't needed there.
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>>4759721
>Let Branch continue to mop up and hope the enemy don't try to flank you
>>
>>4759750
Supporting
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>>4759843
Swapping to >>4759750
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>>4760298
I should mention we should be doing this so branch can mop up the resistance left so we can practically focus on the new division on the field.
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>>4759750
+1
>>
Sorry for the delay guys, work is hectic lately.

>>4759750 (Write in)
>>4759750
>>4759928
>>4759987
>>4760050
>>4760298
>>4760332
>>4760700

Writing
>>
Why does the trip seem familiar
>>
You're not quite ready to let the enemy go. With a few orders you shift the bulk of your gun batteries to your right. Ammunition stockpiles are dwindling, but your gun batteries are wise enough to marshal enough ammunition to beat off any possible Chartist counter attack.

Colonel Beddoe is called to counter march south and form a mobile reserve near your headquarters.

You watch the troops arrive thirty minutes later. They're dusty, sweaty, tired. They march with a shuffle in their step, a monotonous slump southward. Even so, you see a modicum of pride in their expressions. These men had seen battle and come out victorious. There's no greater feeling in the world than to stare down death and come out of it alive.

This army, the Army of the Antary - your army - has had its first taste of real battle, more than the sporadic skirmishing with Chartists the weeks prior, and has come out on top.

A victory, if not a total victory.

Beddoe's brigade marches into position to react to threats on all directions.

Not long afterward, you receive word of a massive surrender at Shedford. Two brigades of enemy infantry have raised a white flag and thrown their arms into the River Camille.

The attack you feared might come on your right flank never materializes. As afternoon fades to evening, the Chartist forces withdraw from the field, crossing back over the River Camille, surrendering the field to you.

Your men have suffered heavily. General Withers paid with his life, his division was badly mauled, but you've dealt a far worse blow to the enemy. Tomorrow you will have to consider how you will exploit this victory. But for today, you've won.

***

Thanks for playing guys, this got a lot more attention than I thought it would.

Through clever maneuvering and bold action you guys pulled a clear win out of a bad situation. Other obligations don't give me the time I want to be able to continue this earnestly, but now that I see the appetite is there I may try to run this setting as a full campaign in the future.

Thanks again, I hope you all enjoyed.
>>
>it's already over
lame
It was a fun ride though, thanks op
>>
>>4761306
Yeah, it's a bummer. I really only expected to ever get like 1-2 people playing and I just had enough time to do one battle. I'd love to do more in the future, either a limited series or a full on game.

I have another quest I am running right now that's taking all my attention so I can't run this right now sadly.
>>
>>4761310
WAR OF THE ROSES NEVER FORGET
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>>4761310
What's your other quest, QM? I enjoyed this one very much. though I found the ending to be anti-climactic.
>>
>>4761322
My other quest has virtually nothing in common with this one so I don't expect any cross mixing of player groups but it's the Evangelion quest.

>>4731368

>Anti-climactic
Yeah, I didn't do it justice. The ending I original had envisioned was sidestepped by smart player choices which left me at a loss. The Chartists got outmaneuvered and decided to limp away to fight another day.

I also was running out of free time and needed to end it before it wasted away.

If/when I revisit this idea I will do so when I can take my time with it. Like I said, I didn't expect anyone to actually want to play this really, I just wanted to kill some free time and explore a half-baked idea I had. Hence the throw away QM name.

Glad you enjoyed this one, sorry it didn't quite live up to expectations at the end there.
>>
>>4761340
This was dope as hell, absolutely loved it. I'll be looking out for another session on this if you decide to make it.
>>
>>4761406
>This was dope as hell, absolutely loved it. I'll be looking out for another session on this if you decide to make it.

Thanks! I'd love to make it. We'll see if I get the time in the future.
>>
Well, this was nice, hope we get to see more of it soon. I especially like how it's an post-napoleonic but pre-victorian setting (the men are still using muskets, instead of magazine-loaded rifles)
>>
>>4761340
What happened in the north-west woods by the way? Did Harlan manage to defeat the Chartist skirmishers?
>>
>>4761426
It's an underappreciated period. Ranged engagements are ferrocious and deadly but things like bayonet and cavalry charges aren't *entirety* obsolete either.
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>>4761433
Harlan drove them back but it's such a tangled mess that both sides got all mixed up and neither side could really "clear" the woods easily
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What was Mercer's original plan before he died?
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>>4761448
Only the gods know, my friend. I'm sure it was glorious.
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>>4761434
Are you familiar with the sabres of infinity series. This reminds me of it
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>>4761454
Not at all. Never heard of it. What is it?
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>>4761451

>I'm sure it was glorious.

>pic related

Followed up with champagne and hookers into the night. Glory to the kingdom!
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>>4761466
Classic Van Mercer. If he had lived I'm sure he would have crushed the Usurper scum and restored the rightful heirs to the kingdom.
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>>4761454
The setting is interesting, but holy shit is the game itself shit

You can't get an good ending unless you go some stupidly specific set of decisions since literally everything else leads to your entire company dying. All because of stupid skillchecks for the most basic of things
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>>4761475
You can modify the game files and cheat anon. Make yourself a 99/99/99 chad and give yourself boat loads of cash
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>>4761340
I might check it out.
I've been rereading the old NERV bridge simulator archive that I caught a few sessions of when it ran on /tg/ like 5 years ago. It was a great Evangelion quest with really well done art and battles.
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>>4761490
I'm afraid I'll never live up to NBS. My battles don't hold a candle to Ceg's and I don't do art.

But you might get some echo of glory from my quest.
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>>4761485
how tf do i do that
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>>4761508
If you're playing on an android just download an apk editor and change some values on the startup.js file.
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>>4761516
>android
Wait, people play that game on phones?

I just pirated it online.
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>>4761522
Honestly, i'd play it in my phone if there was a way to get it for free

I'm not paying $10 for an small interactive text game
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>>4761522
>>4761539
Are you a boomer or a zoomer? Even a simple google search will bring you hundreds of links to pirated mobile games.
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>>4761547
99% Of those links are fake as shit, i tried once to download a game and i ended up getting some retarded virus that would open up some extremely sketchy sites (including porn sites) every time i opened google
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>>4761550
You have to be smarter anon ;")
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>>4761552
I am unable to
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Was hoping for an Epilogue, but was very fun none the less. Kind of reminds me of that pseudo-American War of Independence drawquest that ran a while ago.

Anyways, thanks for writing TK, I thought it was you just based on the name.
>>
>>4761340
Well, now you know, this setting will always have a draw to it. Shame it's been so short, nice while it was though.

>>4761454
I cant wait for lords.
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>>4761676
Thanks! I considered an epilogue but I don't want to in case I continue this story. Needless to say that the sword has been drawn and the war can only escalate.
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>>4761689
>in case I continue this story.

Please do!
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I appreciate the fact that the protagonist side were royalists as opposed to these republican types. Have you thought out how the situation involves neighboring nations?
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>>4761340
Hey I follow both quests intermittently. A forlorn hope in an Eva, perchance?
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>>4761340
Hey this was a dope one shot, if you run it fully in the future consider me fully on board.

>The ending I original had envisioned was sidestepped by smart player choices which left me at a loss.

Its actually interesting looking back at the play by play of the player planning, the main thing the players didn't see was the extended line implicitly expecting reinforcements and being extended to draw us out of the forest which was prime defensive ground.
>>
>>4761949
The Chartists are actually monarchists as well. I obviously didn't go into detail but the Chartists believe the throne was rightfully turned over to a different noble family through an older Charter.

>Neighboring nations
As the war drags on neighbors will provide weapons and volunteers to their chosen faction.

Some might even try to seize land they'd lost or claimed previously. People like the hated Casmians.

>>4762130
We'll see :D

>>4762159
Thanks for playing!

Yes, you also prudently left Moers to gaurd the river crossings. If you'd taken him as well I think the arrival of the fresh Chartist division would have been a disaster.
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>>4762354
>but the Chartists believe the throne was rightfully turned over to a different noble family through an older Charter.
Wait, so they AREN'T Like the real life chartists?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chartism

I mean, Legitimism was also a movement in real life, it was the people who wanted to keep the Bourbon in power.
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>>4762379
They are only like Chartists in that they claim their power derives from a charter.

In this universe: Legitimists feel the succession should continue down traditional "Legitimate" lines. Chartists have an old document promising a transfer of power to a different family.

These details would be more fleshed out in the full game.
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>>4762354
The river crossing was one part that had me scratching my head. How were the Chartists able to cross the river with an entire division in less than two hours, in such a way that they were able to rather easily brush away Moers' force, and with their troops no worse for wear for the crossing? There can't have been a ford, a pontoon bridge would have been easily spotted earlier on, and as for using boats, where would they pulled out so many on such short notice to be able to cross a division's worth of men in such a short time frame? Maybe I'm over-analyzing here, and I was unfortunately absent for most of the thread, but that sort of consideration would have informed any decisions I made.
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>>4762520
They'd already begun crossing before the battle was joined. There was a ford further down river.

Moers scouts only found it after they'd gotten two brigades across and it was too late to easily contain. Moers was grossly outnumbered by that point and could only delay.
>>
I just want to say fuck Casmians and Chartists, whoresons all.



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