Turn 17 - about 1 pm - turn ends Monday 13th
Note! Character-specific updates WILL BE ADDED… within a few hours or so.
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dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/14467358/eclipse/eclipse_republic_tactical_ag80135dgva_017.jpgGeneralThe green grasses of the Valley of Flowers were trampled, the river murky with dust and dirt, the air filled with the cries and thunder of combat, and fire bloomed from the mouths of Republican artillery.
After a brief pitched battle at the farthest downstream bridge of the Florid, several regiments of the Republic forced a crossing. The force of Dominion archers that had opposed them retreated into the fortress-prison compound to the west. Soon the compound’s walls were bristling with longbowmen, and from the old fortress at the corner of the compound - the Vigil Unblinking - their arrows reached far across the junction between the Florid and the main river, the Tiricon.
North and closer to the city walls, the Republican forward regiments engaged units of battlemagi supported by the zealot horde that had crossed the river farther upstream. Soon the arrival of Inquisitor units and a few scattered shots of cannon chased the Dominion force away. Under Lord Torval Sistorian’s flag, most of them entered Falor through a gate to the north.
Though a string of explosions to the north told that the Dominion destroyed the bridges upstreams, with the exception of the Vigil Unblinking the southern reaches of the Florid up to the city walls were under Republican command. Cautious units venured up to the very city gates - finding them locked, but with nothing but silence from the walls above.
Meanwhile, to the southwest, regiments of Republican pikemen took up positions at the great Archaevid bridge, spanning west-east across the Tiricon. They had only time to brace themselves before thousands of Dominion zealots charged the bridge from the west - and dying by the score. Soon, the zealots fell back.
Too late to make use of the zealot charge, the Sistorian cavalry to the south charged the milling masses of the Republican units sorting out their defensive line. The Republican soldiers held their ground and just-deployed cannons chased off the remaining cavalry. Thereafter the Republican southern front was a bristling line of pikemen interspersed with units of Inquisitor magi. The Sistorian cavalry force paced restlessly along its length, now and then sparkling with Archonic sorcery quickly nulled by Inquisitor countermeasures.
Now the Republican cannon opened fire on the Marassian Span - the main bridge leading into Falor. Of the tens of thousands of Dominion soldiers marching up from the south, only a few regiments made it across, suffering severe casualties. Seda Suren, sister of the High Palatine himself, was one of the last to cross the Marassian before its great archs - built by the Mason himself in ages past - tumbled into the roaring waters of the Tiricon.
The Dominion host was channelled towards the much smaller bridge just west of the remains of te Marassian, and still scattered shots of artillery crashed among the crowded masses. Even from the distant vantage of the Republic, the sense of panic was palpable.
Then their view disappeared.
From nowhere, a great bank of mist formed, thick and heavy - obscuring all that happened behind it. The magic had been seen yesterday, on a much smaller scale, covering one of the Three Kings hills far to the south. Now the artillery halted, confused - then aimed farther south at targets still visible to them. Soon those targets retreated out of range.
Regiments of Republican sappers crossed the Florid and were approaching the city walls when a single rider issued forth from the Vigil Unblinking. He rode straight to the banner of the First Citizen - and a cry went out among the Republic.
It was Constantin Noval - commander of the First Citizen’s bodyguard cavalry and a high-ranking minister of the Republic. He had been thought dead, along with his entire unit, from the battle yesterday. He informed the Republican command that there were almost four hundred Republican prisoners in the Vigil - most of them cavalry who had been captured yesterday.
The Dominion had tasked Constantin to relay a simple message:
"Cease your advance, or have your countrymen returned to you in pieces."
The RepublicMajor General Jan Haunheim, acting Minister of Wars and Defence of the Republic as General Otakar was presumed dead, was worried. He was worried because, among his many duties, the one he considered most important was that of staying alive.
This was not cowardice. It was simply expedient. If he were dead, he could no longer serve his beloved Republic. So it made sense to concern himself with his own well-being and extend that concern to his immediate surroundings: that of the strategy meeting he was participating in together with most of the Republican high command, and beyond that the Republican army, and beyond that, the Dominion army. After many years of experience in command, he was well aware that it was not only the hard facts of a situation that mattered in battle, but that the influence of morale and the human psyche played an inordinate role as well.
He was a practical man, however, and did not deem things farther away than those three concentric circles - the meeting, the Republican army, and the Dominion army - to have any impact on the situation at hand. And so he had been content to ignore such things for the time being, in favour of more immediate concerns.
Which was why he, and most of the men and officers around him, did at first not understand the significance of what they had just been told.
~
"Agreed." The First Citizen said and nodded. "Get it done. Victory is within our grasp."
The strategy meeting was all but over. Already messengers were rushing out to the marching troops, carrying their instructions. The four high commanders - the First Citizen Avus Gula, the High Inquisitor Pietro Gori, the foreign regiments general Garrek (or rather, Renal Sistorian) and the navy colonel, Taniel Corso - prepared to leave from the meeting and go about their business.
Then an Inquisitor burst into the tent and whispered into Gori’s ear. The man’s agitation was such that the proceedings stalled.
Gori nodded to the man, who turned to face the assembly.
“Lord Admiral Jack Timbale has fallen in battle with the Havsgard fleet. This happened a little less than four hours ago.”
~
Communication through magic over long distances was a difficult business, but Inquisitors schooled in the art were an invaluable asset. This time, however, it might have been best if nothing had been said.
While General Haunheim was still absorbing the news - Admiral Timbale had been one of the triumviri who had taken command of the Republic, dissolving the Senate, after the assassination of Consul Harmon Dermeticus a few years ago - the temperature inside the command tent went from hot-blooded to frosty. The two remaining triumviri - the First Citizen and High Inquisitor - faced one another without moving.
“A tragedy for the Republic, and a most personal one for myself at that,” the First Citizen said at last.
“Indeed,” Ramon Caltabell, aide to the First Citizen, latched on. “A most terrible misfortune to befall us at this crucial time. You must do your utmost to convey our condolences back to Sabria, Inquisitor.”
“Very upsetting,” intoned Pietro Gori. It was unclear what, exactly, was upsetting - the death of the Admiral, or that the First Citizen’s aide would issue orders to an Inquisitor. Silence followed.
It was a divide that could be traced to the very constitution of the Republic, several generations ago. The Army held supremacy on land, the Navy acted independently on the seas, and the Inquisitors made certain that magic was held under control. It was no accident that, after civil administration was disbanded after the Consul’s assassination in the face of resurgent conflict with the Dominion, all three branches of the military were represented in the Triumvirate. It had been a way of stabilizing power - if either of the triumviri went too far, the other would oppose him.
Now there were only two left.
There was nothing left to balance the scales. Haunheim tried very hard not to look in the direction of the Navy’s representative here, and second-in-command to Admiral Timbale, to see his reaction. No, it was better to move on now before things got out of hand. He cleared his throat:
“While I grieve as much as all of us, we must attend to the matters at hand. We will do old Jack no favours by allowing ourselves to be distracted from the issues at hand.”
“Indeed,” Ramon said again. But his tone was anything but agreeing. “And I realize now we have all overlooked something quite important… the High Inquisitor’s meeting with the enemy High Palatine. You have been reticent on the matter so far, High Inquisitor. Would you care to share the details of this meeting?”
“It was very brief. The meeting was soon interrupted - the Dominion command were clearly busy. They did not expect our assault to be so quick, and are racked by internal divisions between the two Seraphs of Radiance - Dawn Lantern and Black Sun. We have them on the run.”
Ramon eyed Gori sceptically. “That’s it? You were gone for hours. You expect us to believe that is all that happened - that you learned these things of the Dominion without revealing anything in return to them? It is well known you opposed the strategy that was agreed upon earlier!”
The gathering was abuzz with muttered whispers and muted gasps. What Ramon was implying was… unthinkable. Gori’s black eyes bore into the man - if looks could kill, this one would.
“Take it or leave it,” Tomas de Campo, Inquisitor-Tribune and one of the Inquisition’s highest-ranking members, spat. “The Inquisition’s one and only goal is to end the tyranny of the demon-lords - would you oppose us in this? We - far better than you of the Army - understand the dangers involved in this battle!”
“Well, someone has to lead this army while you are off conferring with idolaters and the enemy!”
“Perhaps, and perhaps that someone should not be you!” Through the uproar that followed, Tomas’ next sentence suddenly focused all eyes in a new direction. “Or what do you say, General Garrek - you know the Dominion defences better than anyone. What would you do?”
Garrek, or Renal Sistorian, looked flustered with the sudden attention on him.
“Well,” he began slowly, “though the city walls of Falor are old and in disrepair, there are layers upon layers of magical defences and wards that surround the city. We will soon be facing these defences, with the enemy around us on all sides - we can only see a small portion of the battlefield whereas their information advantage is enormous: they will know virtually our every move. Last night we saw Lightdancer, the weakest of Radiance’s three Seraphs, take the field during the night skirmish at the crossing - his power is terrible to behold. While Radiance himself has not been known to leave his Palace for generations - indeed, there are some who believe there to be a conspiracy at work, or that Radiance is even dead! - if more of the Seraphs come to battle us, we will have no succour from them. I would-”
“Speak a lot of words but show no backbone!” interrupted Ramon. “Just what I’d expect from a Dominion-man. Our cannon will break down those walls and our Republican soldiers will defeat any who stands in our way!”
Cries of “hear, hear!”, outrage, and a dozen other emotions and points of view were raised as the meeting decended into chaos.
“Now, now,” the First Citizen broke in. “General Garrek brings up good points and a fresh perspective, just as General Otakar knew he would when he vouched for his promotion.”
“And where is Otakar now? Dead!” muttered one of the cannon commanders, who Haunheim knew only as Liam - setting off a whole new volley of infighting.
“Because those damn cannon of yours did nothing but sit around while the rest of us fought for our lives!” one of Garrek’s men, Oshett, growled wild-eyed.
“The entire debacle of yesterday was due to the foreign troops’ inability to follow orders!”
“Or maybe, we lost our entire damn cavalry force because we’ve been taking orders from a bunch of sailors who know nothing of war on land!”
“SILENCE!”
Haunheim’s thunderous voice - usually needed only to break through the din of battle for his orders to be heard - froze the different camps of officers just as things were on the verge of becoming outright physical.
“I have never seen the like! You are professional officers of the Republican army - I dread to think what our soldiers would think if they saw this! I should have you all court-martialled!”
Into the embarrassed silence, the First Citizen spoke easily:
“You had best all return to your commands - the enemy does not wait for us. I have no doubt you all know where your loyalties lie.”
It very much sounded like he expected them to lie with him.
Commodore "Black Jack" Taniel CorsoAs the colonel exited the command meeting, head still roiling with the sudden outburst of emotions and the revelation of his mentor’s death, a man he did not recognize came up to him.
“Taniel Corso?”
“Yes?” His aides had let the man through.
“I bring a message from Fleet Admiral Samuel Corso… your father. It concerns the recent developments in the capital following the death of triumviri Timbale.”
“What? Who are you? And how would you have gotten a message from him so quickly - that would imply...” magic. But this was no Inquisitor.
“That is not important right now. Colonel - Taniel, may I call you Taniel? Your father has a request to make of you.”
“Okay…”
“He wants you to end this war.”
“What?”
“Powerful forces are moving back home, Taniel. Your father was opposed to the Triumvirate and their war-like ways from the very beginning, which was why it was Timbale and not he who took the chance to become one of the triumviri. There may come a time, very soon, that your father will move to reinstate the Senate and let the people rule the Republic once more - not whichever one of the two dictators emerges triumphant from this battle here. But rather than a war-bloodied dictator, your father would rather see his son return - with terms for peace.”
“This is sedition! This is our only chance to kill Radiance and liberate mankind!”
“This is reason! This is the perfect opportunity to force the Dominion to accept peace on our terms. Liberate mankind? What do you think the rest of the Dominion will do, if you - against all odds - manage to kill Radiance? Their fury will wash over the Republic until there is nothing left alive on Jovinium larger than a cockroach. The only reason the Republic has survived for so long is that we have kept within our own borders and defended ourselves with a strong navy. This… crusade… was only ever a great stage for the Triumviri to act out their political aspirations upon!”
“I won’t listen to this - I have a battle to fight, men to command.”
Taniel started to walk away. The man continued speaking to his back.
“This is happening with or without you, Taniel Corso. Your father needs you - will you let him down now, after what you did to your brother? Peace in our time, Black Jack! Is that so difficult a pill to swallow? I will be here when you come to your senses.”
First Citizen Avus GulaStudying the prison-fortress Vigil Unblinking along with his aides, the First Citizen pondered his next steps.
"We should reduce it to rubble," said one of the navy artillery men. "It is too dangerous to let stand - I hear they have seen ballistae being mounted on the walls. It is only a question of time before they start firing at us, or the southern cannon batteries."
"Those are several hundred of my men in there!" barked Constantin Noval. "Good cavalry men, with their horses as well - we surrendered under good terms."
The First Citizen said nothing, thinking. In the current climate of the army, his next step could prove... decisive. Would he be the man who let hundreds of Republican soldiers be blasted to pieces? Or the one who effected a miraculous rescue?
General Garrek (Renal Sistorian) Eyeing the Dominion cavalry that held the heights to the south, Garrek sighed. Those were Sistorian cavalry - his father’s bannermen. He even recognized individual coat-of-arms - the heraldry of the Sistorian nobility, assembled before him.
Opposite him.
While the cavalry were, for now, held at bay by the Republican defensive line and artillery… Garrek realized there was an opportunity here. There, to the far east of the cavalry flank (C1) flew the banner of Tycorro Tassar. The man had just been knighted for services to the Sistorian family before Garrek left the Dominion, but he had been well known even before that. He was a fanatic, and would no doubt lose his mind if he saw Garrek - Renal Sistorian, that was. Perhaps he could even be goaded into charging…
… into a trap.
~
About an hour after he had sent Oshett away, the man came back - face a bloodied mess of fresh injuries, and escorted by an Inquisitor. It was, in fact, Inquisitor-Tribune Tomas de Campo.
“What’s this?” Garrek demanded. “Why aren’t you in the city like I ordered you?”
Oshett just shook his head, wincing at the pain. Tomas spoke in his stead.
“This man was captured by a party of skirmishers of the First Citizen’s Second Arquebus regiment. He was observed moving in a suspect manner and being of foreign nationality. They believed he was a traitor or spy, sneaking into the city to give information to his masters. He was captured and we of the Inquisition were called upon to interrogate him. By the time we arrived and determined that he was who he claimed to be, the skirmishers had already become a bit too… zealous.”
This coming from an Inquisitor.
“This is…” Garrek was lost for words. It was one thing for men to be superstitious - any commander must be aware of how quickly mood could swing in a group of soldiers. But it was part of their soldier discipline not to let this affect them. As if it were not enough that his own men - exhausted and weary - were grumbling against his command. Now it seemed all foreign soldiers were viewed with suspicion by the rest of the Republican army!
“I must ask, however...” Tomas continued. “I understand you sent him to warn off the populace left in the city of our advance?”
“Those were my orders,” muttered Oshett through a mouthful of broken teeth.
Garrek nodded.
“Even though the population of Falor must surely be aware of our approach. Even though you have previously displayed little or no care regarding the well-being of your former compatriots?”
“That is correct.”
The Inquisitor-Tribune nodded. “Very well. The enemy has been sighted in the lower city to the west - I doubt your man will have any luck entering the city from that direction, and the city gates to the northeast are surely locked by now.” He turned to leave. “Thank you,” he added over his shoulder.
Fuming, Garrek considered the situation. It seemed the entire army was going crazy with sudden divisions, exacerbating fault-lines that had lain dormant. Could this be magic? The Seraphs of Radiance were powerful beyond reckoning - if they were weaving some spell to sow dissent among the Republic, it was clearly working.
Were the Inquisitors aware of this? And if so, what were they doing to counter it?
High Inquisitor GoriWhile the rest of the army hunkered down outside the city walls and his Inquisitors patrolled the front lines, the High Inquisitor had his tent erected and shut himself inside.