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[Iituem]

Erika glanced over to Ssyrith, who had an expression somewhere between fear and incontinence.  She was decidedly leading from the rear this time, but hobbling as she was she still had Winchester loaded and ready to snipe.

"Is... everything alright?"

Lead from the rear this time, if targets of opportunity appear, snipe.  Keep a small honour guard around Erika for protection.

[Deny]

Ssyrith shook his head in yet another vain attempt to diffuse the aching pain in his head, magic always had a tenancy to backfire in rather painful ways. "And that old fool wondered why I didn't take the magic lessons seriously." His internal musings however where soon interrupted with Erika's somewhat worried question, cursing himself silently under his breath he turned to respond.

"I'm afraid so your highness, I just took a rather, interesting delve in spells over the walls and it would appear we have underestimated the forces against us, the enemy have us outnumbered in infantry and possess an entire regiment of spell casters. If I could delve once again into the affairs of the army I would recommend we bring out our artillery proper as it seems to be the only area in which we have numerical superiority."

[Iituem]

"If you can pin down the location of the mages, we can make an exception to the artillery rule."

[Ghazkull]

Just at this moment your discussion is interrupted...you hear the sounds of trombones and drums and fife. A Regimental March! The Gates of Sheepstead open in the distance and orderly Regiments of Preston Guards leave the city in ordered formations, Military Chapel playing the festive tune of the Preston Guard. A truly resplendent view from your hill as the thousands of men in their blue and red uniforms march forth in perfectly trimmed formations, on the crumbling walls you see the Mages and Artillery brought into position...but you doubt they will give much defense against your own fire.

Truly the Prestonians must be completely mad to give up the city to an open field battle.

[Deny]

Ssyrith looked on in shock as the enemy army, once entrenched within the city, came marching out in full colors, abandoning their defensive positions to meet the Elbrethians in force. But even as he watched the sheer madness of the event, the small niggling part of his mind which had saved his skin many times over was now screaming not his mind, something had to be up, the Prestoners surely couldn't be this stupid. Turning to face Erika again, who was also watching the procession below, quickly noting the location of the enemy mages before replying. "Well it seems locating them won't be a problem right now your majesty, though it would seem a reordering of the battle plan is presently in order."

[Iituem]

Erika ran her eyes over the attacking force, sizing them up.  Thirty effective line and pike from Preston, backed up by double artillery and mages.  Five line, nine infantry, ten militia, four artillery, three dragoons.  So... thirty on the ground versus twenty seven on the ground, cavalry count double... even odds.  This would require tactics, then.  She nodded and turned to Hoffenburg.

"Artillery versus the mages and counter-artillery, put two artillery on the mages first - I want them a fine paste before they can do any damage.  Harroway-  Where the devil is Harroway?  Never mind.  If we tercio we'll halve our battle line, but at the same time they've decided to come to us...

"Hoffenburg, need your advice.  We could turtle, let them come to us and trust the dragoons to flank, but then they will be able to bear their full weight against us, and that won't hold - especially with their superior grade of troops.  We might be able to use our ability to sneak through the slums and around them to pull some ambushes, but I need your advice on how to make that best happen."

[Ghazkull]

At that moment you see something else a single company of horse approaching at a quick canter, flying prestonian colours. A company not even a Regiment...it seems they intent to charge your artillery.

Hathcock

As your Company is approaching the Line of Elbreth you see that they are yet in disarray...this might be your lucky day. On a rank behind you one of your corporals, one you make out to be Clellan, some odd fellow with a sick sense of humour suddenly breaks into song.

If you want to have a good time, jine the Cavalry.
If you want to catch the Devil, if you wanna smell hell, Join the Cavalry...

"CLELLAN SHUT UP and play something proper."

The Corporal obliges, retrieves his bugle from his side and starts playing something completely different.

Poor Old Soldier, Poor Old Soldier.
If ever i enlist again the Devil shall be my Sergeant.

Behind you you hear a short smack and then the music stops.

"Now go and apologize to the Captain."

[Iituem]

Erika spun around and barked orders at soldiers, trying her best to ignore the sharp pain in her side that came with shouting.  No time to consult after all.  She smelled a bait and switch coming.  For two sets of units, she signalled the approaching cavalry.

"Dragoons, flank and take down!  Third Artillery, paint and fire!  Everyone else, tercio!  Defensive line, ready for attack from the slums!"

[Ardas]

Harroway, absent for most of the march, hidden among the mass of troops, now suddenly reappeared near Erika. He gave a short bow.

"Your Highness, I am at your disposal. Enemies of Elbreth will burn at your command."

[Playergamer]

Hathcock surveys the Elbrethian line, and spots an auburn woman barking orders. He chuckles under his breath.

"The "traitor princess." Not quite as impressive in person."

The knight then turns, yelling orders over his shoulder at the men behind him.

"Charge through the far left flank, with the militiamen. Do not stop! Once you're through, charge into the cannons and slaughter the crew! Oakes, ready the spikes*, and take out those guns!"

The knight then raises his longsword into the air, and the cavalrymen let out a cheer. As the company comes closer to the Elbrethian line, the militiamen would hurriedly ready their muskets, and the cannons of the Third Artillery would be brought to bare. As they closed to a hundred yards, a crescendo of explosions would drown out the sounds of music for a moment. Hathcock felt a sharp pain in his left leg, before suddenly falling from his horse, as his vision went black.
Anyone watching the cavalry charge would witness the carnage of modern war. As the cavalrymen reached a hundred yards, the Third Artillery, finally having brought their guns to bear, opened fire, killing or wounding dozens of men. The tall knight in full plate armor, leading the charge, was suddenly brought to the ground as his horse was hit head-on by a cannonball, the poor bay dropping to the ground, horribly mangled.

The rest of the cavalry kept charging, whether they wanted to or not, due to their momentum, and met a wall of lead from the militiamen. The musket balls slaughtered the remaining cavalry, and only a dozen men survived, turning around and riding back to the slums at full speed.

*Artillery spikes are hardened steel, headless nails. When cavalry charged a cannon battery, or the gunners were forced to abandon their guns, they would often hammer artillery spikes into the borehole to semi-permanently disable the gun. It could be fixed by either drilling through the spike, or drilling a new borehole, but that could usually only be done in a foundry with specialized tools.

[Dwarmin]

A young man was sitting on a hill, reading a book. It was titled 'A Fine Spring Thing'. He occasionally made notes in a small pad with a red pencil-glancing out to the battlefield which rumbled nearby.

His orders were typically given to a subordinate, who relayed them down the line. He spoke quietly, as it entirely distracted from the manner at hand. He watches the failed cavalry charge dispassionately, waving his hand in front of face as if smelling something foul.

"Outdated tactics. Wasteful. Inefficient...

...Here's the calculations. Accounting for wind, and the grade of the land, our quality of powder. Make sure they follow these exactly-we can't afford to miss, we don't have the ammunition. Loud air bursts preferable. I like enemy mages deaf and disoriented. Hard to spring those fingers with a steam whistle in your ear. I want them broken up, captain." He said, handing the pad to his second in command. Orders were relayed down the line with canny swiftness, through flags, trumpets and runners. A system he had developed himself. Issak loved perfectly synchronized artillery strikes, and he had trained his men by clockwork watches for accuracy. Some of the more experienced hands didn't even need watches anymore.

Then, he stood up, shouting his own orders.

"The Horseboys seem to be turning tail already. Suppose it's been awhile since we've had meat, though, I guess the boys of Preston will taste worse than the horses...hah!

We hold the bridge. Remember. Today is the day we begin to kick these bastards out of our home. These people we're fighting, they don't want to be here, did you know that? Just the daily grind. A paycheck at the end of the month. That's what we are to them. Let's convince them to go home and be cheesemakers, eh? Let's raise a little bad weather to ruin their day. I want a storm of hell, a hail of fire and steel on them-you know, the usual ringing endorsement, kill them all but make it poetic. Make those shots tight, real tight boys-we can't afford to blow their pointy hats off without their empty heads inside of them. Let's see if the finger twirlers can raise themselves from the dead."  He said, to ringing laughter.

~

Action: Help direct the artillery to fire accurately onto the mages. Be inspiring!

[micelus]

Erika ran her eyes over the attacking force, sizing them up.  Thirty effective line and pike from Preston, backed up by double artillery and mages.  Five line, nine infantry, ten militia, four artillery, three dragoons.  So... thirty on the ground versus twenty seven on the ground, cavalry count double... even odds.  This would require tactics, then.  She nodded and turned to Hoffenburg.

"Artillery versus the mages and counter-artillery, put two artillery on the mages first - I want them a fine paste before they can do any damage.  Harroway-  Where the devil is Harroway?  Never mind.  If we tercio we'll halve our battle line, but at the same time they've decided to come to us...

"Hoffenburg, need your advice.  We could turtle, let them come to us and trust the dragoons to flank, but then they will be able to bear their full weight against us, and that won't hold - especially with their superior grade of troops.  We might be able to use our ability to sneak through the slums and around them to pull some ambushes, but I need your advice on how to make that best happen."

"They desire an open battle and we cannot allow them to fight us man-to-man; we've not the firepower or manpower to do so. We need to flank them; there is no other way. Send some agents into the city; get the people to revolt."

Hoffenburg looked down into the regiments.

"Our linemen must hold; spread them out to increase the strength of our volleys. The Weylanders and Pikes can wheel around into the city and strike from the flanks...but we need to get rid of the artillery and mages to allow that. Hopefully our cannons and your mage can do that for us. From there, we can at least hold down their linemen in melee combat...although it is my understanding the Guard are well-trained in the melee..."

Hoffenburg thought for a moment.

"We need to raise the Elbrethian flag. Get our troops inside, raise our flag and rally the people. All our planning, all our efforts, will be for naught if we cannot rally the people here and now."

[Ghazkull]

Slums of Sheepstead

As troops move into their positions the artillery already starts duelling, with the Prestonian Mage Cadre supporting them. First they search for ssyrith who however has decided to conceal his position for now and not start any large scale magics.

Spoiler:  Rolls (click to show/hide)

Prestonian Artillery1 vs. Elbreth Artillery 1: 3+5 vs 4+5 = 1 Damage Preston Artillery1
prestonian Artillery2 vs. Elbreth Artillery 2: 4+5 vs 5+5 = 1 Damage Preston Artillery2
Elbreth Artillery3 vs. ConscriptMages: 2+5 vs. 4+1 = 2 Damage to Mages
Elbreth Artillery4 vs. ConscriptMages: 3+5 vs. 6+1 = 1 Damage to Mages
Elbreth Artillery5 vs. ConscriptMages: 1+5 vs. 4+2 = no Damage
ConscriptMages casting Fireball: 6,6,4 -> 5
Elbreth Artillery 1 destroyed
ConscriptMages vanish.

The Duel is hard but so far Elbreth Artillerists thanks to the help of Isaak are vastly more accurate then their prestonian counterparts. Then the Mages decide to step in. A Sudden flash of fire causes the entire powder magazines of the first artillery battery to light up and explode. Something however goes wrong in the mages spell casting as the entire lot of them vanishes into thin air with a sickening and anticlimactic 'plop'

Spoiler:  Map (click to show/hide)

[Dwarmin]

Issak went flying as the world exploded around him, but be landed relatively unharmed. He patted out the fires on his clothes and hair, rising to his feet. Ah, lucky. His eyeglasses weren't broken. Really lucky.

He looked back to notice a Mage spark has destroyed his beloved 1st Artillery Battery, turning so many friends and a few lovers into so many smoking, bloody craters. In return, the mages seemed to have...vanished completely, he learned about fifteen minutes later. He could only assume his artillery had disoriented them enough to ruin their spellcasts...he hiked back to his lines, looking mean and angry. Full half of the hair on his head was burned away, giving him the look of a convict from a lunatic asylum.

"Don't just stand there, you louts! Turn those guns-let's mulch that artillery. Quick now, before they get us sighted! Double time!"

And, he promptly fetched a chair and began calculating again.

Damn, the wind had changed.

Action: With a lack of magic users to pelt, Artillery now fires back at the other artillery. Whenever my next turn comes up.

[Ardas]

As the artillery duel unfolded, Flavia kept sending out riders and received reports. Well used to running staff, she was in a flurry of half-scrawled notes and garbled reports from messengers, converting them into coherent orders and reports for the rest of troops.

The sudden explosion shook her just as much as everyone else, but after a brief moment, she collected herself, dusting off her uniform and giving her hair a quick shake, and approached the General and the Princess.

"Your Highness, General - we have advantage in firepower,, even with loss of one battery. If we stick with your initial orders, we should be able to carry the day. I believe that we can sweep them in melee, Eel's men are already waiting. I also have Harroway, he's ready to pelt the enemy with fire, if the lizard is done with his magic."

Alistair Harroway casts pyromancy of his own, aiming for enemy artillery.