The crack of musket fire could be heard overhead, followed closely by the screams of men and women both who fell victim to the volley of gunfire. Sitting silently atop a horse, watching the scene play out was a young officer with dirty blonde hair wearing the uniform of a Tavaran Cuirassier. Distinguishable by their crimson coat with dark blue cuffs, collar, and turnback, with gold trim to top it all off -a fitting appearance for one of the Empires elite Cavalry Regiments. While typically, the young officer would wear the units unique steel helmet similar in style to that of a Dragoon regiment with a brass comb that had a black horse mane protruding from the back, and a small straight red plum (similar in style to the French M1858). The young officer, however, chose instead to go without, instead having it strapped to his saddle, for the time being, leaving his head bare.
Peering down towards the battle playing out below the young mixed breed male turned over towards his female counterpart.
“Seems the Tenth of foot are having trouble down there, wouldn’t you agree Lieutenant Escalera?” The young officer observed with a small slash of a grin.
The woman was watching the battle with an odd expression. One might think it was a slight scowl of irritation or anger, but it was nothing of the sort. Her small (compared to some of her kind’s) tusks tended to give her that look by default. She had to nod towards her friend and counterpart reluctantly. It was a great shame, for she had hoped the battle would go a bit more smoothly. But alas, that didn't seem to be the case.
As another crack of musket fire sounded off, a slight breeze blew her medium length black hair. She had also decided to forgo the helmet. It was useful, sure, but the style wasn't to her taste. Moreover, it felt more natural to her to go without it. Her cuirass was shaped somewhat differently, needing to account for the difference in male and female bodies. Otherwise, however, her uniform was relatively identical.
“Should we head down to help then? Something doesn’t quite feel right about just watching such things.” Adrian spoke in a voice deeper thicker than a typical woman, though that was merely due to her race. Her one was one of concern.
The young half-dragonkin male shrugged in response, “I wish we could Adriah, but the Captain ordered us to remain here… besides, all we have are eighty Cuirassiers compared to the some one-thousand enemy line infantry… and last I checked we don’t have artillery or sorcerer support to cover our advance.”
Adriah poked in response, with a look of slight gloom “I know… still, I wish we could help. But I get the reason why. The heavy cavalry can’t just go intervene constantly. I suppose I’m just whining. It just gets so sad seeing people struggle and die. But I suppose you are correct. We’ve no support and with our numbers… we’d get wiped out.”
Looking over once more towards the collapsing formation the purple coats of the Tavaran line infantry, Jourdain sighed. “Well, sadly, it seems we’re too late either way, look,” he said Pointing towards the scene playing out, the blonde shifted uncomfortably in the saddle of his black stallion warhorse.
Adriah placed one light bronze hand on her face in an attempt to hide a look of near dismay. Jourdain didn’t seem to want to look, and Adriah wouldn’t blame him. But she doubted either could look, even if they genuinely wanted to. There was abounding, and the unsteady fire of muskets and the 10th’s line seemed to break. She could see from here the officers trying nearly in vain to get the men back in formation. Some with more bravery held, but it seemed almost a quarter of the 10th’s infantry were retreating. Adrian looked on with a startled expression and put her hand reflexively to her musket.
“Dear lord… This could be bad…”
Jourdain nodded in agreement, his face taking on a grim appearance. “With this… a hole has just been created… No, damn this waiting, we wait any longer, and the rest of the army will likely suffer, and those poor men and women down there will likely be a slaughter if we don’t intervene now!” Turning to look back at his own formation of 8 troops, he waved over the troop sergeant. “Sergeant, prepare the troop, we’re going to charge!”
The Sergeant looked stunned for a moment, before biting his bottom lip in thought. “Aye, sir… I know what you’re thinking. Risky, but… I think the troops will agree if it means saving those purp’s down there.”
“Thank you, Sergeant… I’ll take the lead, best to have the one ordering the charge at the front than risk the ones following.” As Jourdain made the order, he slowly made his way to the front of his small formation of Cuirassiers.
Adriah gave a low deep sounding sigh, One that spoke of resigned determinating, being resigned to actions her superiors might look upon with disdain. She didn’t want to meet the kind of person that could see this and not act. With this hold up and a big hole opened in the line, more would surely die! This could not stand. The captain would just have to understand. Jourdain, however, said what she wanted to say first. Adrian gave him a look of resigned agreement as he spoke his own troop sergeant. There wasn't another way to go about this. Not one she could readily live with.
Spotting Adriah’s look as he put his cavalry helmet on, he gave his Orcish friend a knowing smile. “See you down there then Lieutenant?”
Adriah returned the smile and nodded fervently. She placed her own helmet on. It may not be to her liking, but only a fool would ride into battle without head protection. “That you will Jourdain.”
Adriah gave a sort of rallying smile, the sign she was mustering herself up, and with her helmet on, she raised her arm to signal any under her who hadn’t been paying attention. She rode to the front and removed a pistol. She might not have time to fire anything more substantial mid-charge. After all, when she got there, she’d have to rely on them and her sabre anyway.
Adriah would wait half a tick, and begin to ride out to the 10th’s aid. She paused for a moment to fire her pistol until she was just a bit closer. The sound around her was incredible. No doubt Jourdain had made a break for it too, and 80 heavy cavalrymen riding into battle could make quite a unique sight. A mix of 80 horses pounding the ground in a near stampede, and the yells of men and women scaring away their own fear with cries to rally one another into a frenzied charge. Combine that with the cracking of muskets, some still orderly, but most firing random from the rapidly breaking line they were riding in to save.
As the large wedge of Cavalry began to make their frenzied charge forward, Jourdain drew his sabre, wrapping the red velvet string around his gloved hand as he tightened his grip around the hilt of the blade. As they drew closer and closer towards the enemy line, Jourdain felt the tinge of fear well up within him. Swallowing away the fear that reared its ugly head, the young officer bellowed his own warcry in unison with his fellow Cuirassiers.
Adriah holstered her pistol, too close now, they’d hit any moment. One might think a member of a race known for being militaristic would be too hardened to pay heed to fear. This was nonsense. Only a beast felt no fear. But you did as you had to do. Adrian let out a loud cry, a mere instant after Jourdain, and almost in choir, they yelled. To rally the men and women, sure, but to motivate themselves as well.
“For the Armori and Tavara! Slaughter them!”
Then… it came…
The 80 heavily armoured cavalry smashed into the line of their navy blue enemies, tearing into them like a knife through butter. Jourdain at the head and Adriah at the right of the formation they began to swing their sabres left and right cutting down foe after foe as they presented themselves. Within moments the two troops of Cuirassiers were truly and thoroughly into the thick of it now.
Adriah could almost feel and hear the shock of the blue coated doormen, a full 80 heavily armoured men and women on horses thundering towards one had to be a frightening experience. But there was no more than a second for such reactions. The melee had started, and the momentum of a horse added to a sabre could be a frightening thing. Her hand and arm holding it were soon drenched with blood. Not one of them would have time to contemplate such matters though. At the head of the group, there was no thinking, for they were the first into the fray. That was, in Adriah’s mind, their rightful place, and clearly, Jourdain agreed.
Indeed, Jourdain did too, as his faithful warhorse smashed through the enemy line kicking and stomping onto any foe unlikely enough to be caught in within range of its might hooves. Jourdain himself nearly wholly forgetting his fear as he drove deep into the enemy formation, his sword arm swinging wildly as he hacked and slashed left and right in a bloodied frenzy. Soon, the enemy began to reform, quickly forming in on the Cuirassiers. Having come to a halt, all the Tavaran cavalry could do now was fight atop their steeds.
It was at times like this that Adriah was glad she treated these animals with respect. The sheer momentum of a heavy warhorse charging directly in the men in blue seemed to perhaps do more damage than the sabre in gripped tightly in her hand. Unfortunately, though, the men in blue managed to slow the horse. A horse couldn't charge through a large body of men forever after all, and soon all forward momentum was halted, and there was nothing for her and her steed to do but to kick and slash from the high ground and try to protect the horse as well if she could.
As the enemy began to swell in, Jourdain spotted his new foes, two blue coated human men came rushing towards him, bayoneted rifles in hand. Thrusting the rifles like spears towards him, the blonde quickly parried the makeshift spears away, before countering with a backhanded flick of his wrists sending the heavy tipped blade up and around slashing the first of his attackers face, a bloody trail following close behind the blade. The second man hesitated for a moment as he saw his friend’s bloody ruin of a face as the body fell forward in a lifeless heap. Taking advantage of the man’s hesitation, the junior officer drew his pistol, and being only a few feet away had no need to aim before firing it into the man’s chest, killing him. With the direct threat to him now taken care of Jourdain began to look around for Adriah.
Adriah was fairing no better. Men lied around her in heaps, and both she and her horse were coated in blood and grime. As to how much of that blood was her or her horses, none could say. Her sabre slashed through the air left and right, but people kept coming, stepping over bodies left and right. Probably wounded, her horse took advantage of a nearby man in blue who had tripped over a man lying on the ground moaning and stepped viciously upon the man’s head.
Adriah turned wildly, hoping to see Jourdain’s helmet if nothing else. Quickly spotting him, she rode towards him, her progress slowed by the bodies and movement of men in her path. She arrived just moments after Jourdain’s well-placed shot. Adriah wiped the blood from her right eye, whether from splatter or a head wound, she had no idea.
“Adriah! Glad to see you’re still in one piece! Seems the enemy is finally breaking. Likely due to their officer or officers lying dead somewhere around here.” Jourdain greeted warmly, panting a little as he felt a small hint of exhaustion wash over him as the enemy began to break into a full route.
“That is truly welcome news. More welcome than any news I have ever received.” Adriah attempted to say more, but couldn’t quite articulate past that, as her voice broke into heavy panting. She was never as thankful in life as when an enemy was routed and, she was still alive.
Grinning like an idiot, the young half-dragonkin officer examined his counterpart, noting how she was coated in more blood than he. “I’d imagine so! Though, I’d not be surprised if it was more due to your appearance that put the enemy to flight than the sight of their dead officers.” Joking lightly, Jourdain shifted about on his saddle, looking for any signs of the enemy colours, only to see it being hoisted up by a young Cuirassier Corporal. “Ah! Good show! I think one of yours managed to get the enemy colours, if that doesn’t get us something, then I don’t know what will!”
“I’d not be surprised. Never piss off a warhorse. He probably did more damage than me, though I can’t say how much of this blood is mine or his. But given I’m not dead yet, the ratio must be at least somewhat favourable.” Her voice took on a tone of one who was beyond relief. It might be hard to tell if she was delirious, or just stuck in an adrenaline rush.
“Aye, hopefully with that the captain won’t try to have us skinned alive.”
Jourdain nodded in agreement, his focus still on the sight of the enemy running over the hill. “Mhm… well, given how he managed to capture the enemy colours and plug the gap in the line, I doubt the Captain will have much to say.” He replied calmly turning now to face the beautiful Orc. “Either way, best let the reserve Regiment take this spot, lest we get dragged into a disaster… chances are the enemy are likely to reform somewhere beyond the woods over there.”
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Adriah’s body seemed to have registered that she was no longer in mortal peril. Her face fell slightly.
“That's true… we’d best regroup while we can, and figure out the casualties. I’m sure a fair few of us didn’t make it. It was an emergency charge After all.” Adriah would give an anxious smile to Jourdain, he was always right about these things. Her head then turned back, looking at the mess of bodies for fallen horses and cuirasses.
“Agreed…” Twisting about, he began to look for his Sergeant, William Siegfried. “Sergeant Siegfried! Siegfried!”
“Sir?” Came a quick and tired reply.
Turning to see his NCO still in one piece and atop his horse with a crisp salute, Jourdain felt a wave of relief rush through him, “Glad to see you alive and well Sergeant. Not sure what I’d do had you been killed.” Jourdain greeted warmly as he returned the salute and shook the man’s hand.
“Thanks, though we all know you’d likely promote Jackson to Sergeant.” William joked as he shook his CO’s hand.
Shaking his head in the negative, “Not likely Sergeant! Jackson doesn’t know how to deal with Captain Xan as you do.” He replied jokingly before turning to Adriah.
Adriah listened and offered a smile of gratitude towards the sergeant, but didn't speak at the moment. She was trying to let her body come down a bit and didn’t want to get woozy by pushing it. At that last comment though, laughter was forced from her mouth. That was certainly true. Xan could be a handful. A spot of humour could do a body some real good.
“Either way, any chance I could get you and a few of the lads to give me a count of how many of our own fell in combat? I’ll need the numbers when I write up the report… I’m hoping our casualties are light… As any large number would likely make the colours our Corporal captured seem as worthless as a rusted kit.” Having made his order, the Sergeant snapped off a quick salute to both Adriah and Jourdain before riding off.
Turning once more to face Adriah, Jourdain looked her up and down once more as he leaned down to examine her more closely for any wounds. “How’re you holding up? You look uneasy there…”
“I’ll be fine, I’m sure. Sometimes though I find it easier to take it easy, just in case you have a wound you haven’t realized yet. I’m sure I have a few of those… but nothing feels terribly bad and or painful.” Adriah would offer a friendly smile to try and put him at ease. “What about you? Did you manage to wade through the sea of blue footmen relatively unharmed?” Her face would return the look of concern. Sometimes such things could creep up on you.
Still, she was slightly distracted as she spoke, looking behind Jourdain hoping not to see dear cavalrymen and women.
Straightening his spine, Jourdain gave a simple smile. “That’s good, though I’d recommend seeing a healer when we get back just to be sure. Can’t be too sure when it comes to a melee.” As he made his reply, he began to examine himself and his horse for any wounds that they might have sustained in the fighting. “As far as I can see, we’re relatively unharmed, though I well imagine I have a few bruises here and there, but I doubt there’s anything more serious.” Looking back at his fellow Lieutenant, Jourdain maneuvered his horse up beside Adriah’s and rested his free hand on her shoulder.
“You did well Adriah…” And with that, he made his way past his fellow officer and rode up to rejoin with his own troop which were slowly trotting back up the hill in time to spot the reserve regiment come down it.
Adriah returned the gesture and made a mental reminder to properly thank him once she wasn’t covered in blood. “You as well, that was a nice shot I must say, though I nearly missed it.” For now, she’d leave it at that.
A more complete talk would probably happen later, once they fully understood the consequences of their actions, and how many lie dead or disfigured. She would follow him, but move to approach her own troop as they reached them.
Riding up towards the remainder of his blooded troop, Jourdain waved his hand in the air, “Cuirassiers, regroup! Battles not over yet sadly… we still have our orders to wait.” As he made the order, he stopped one of the younger Cuirassiers. “Trooper, I need you to deliver a report on our status and the results of our engagement.”
“Sir! Right away, sir!” pulling the reins of his horse, the young Cavalrymen rode off as quickly as he could carrying with him a small letter which Jourdain had scribbled mere moments before sending him off.
Adriah moved around, rallying the cuirassiers under her command. Though many didn’t look entirely pleased, none seemed broken by the combat. She had to admit she was glad of that. Even the younger ones. It was good to see that the Tavaran cuirassiers were living up to their namesake.
“Unfortunately a retreat doesn’t mean this is over, ready yourselves for combat, this won’t be out last combat if my gut is right.” She sighed to herself as and wiped her face under her helmet, and resettled herself on her horse.
With that done, she would ride over to Jourdain. “So, any plans? Should we wait for a return from Xan or try to keep them from regrouping?”
Adriah sighed softly to herself, and in the meantime began reloading her firearms, and cleaning blood from her sabre. What information did they have? Did the scouts have any info? It was never fun to be stuck waiting to figure things out as the battle potentially progressed beyond her awareness. Moreover, their attack could have created a grand opportunity to ride through and ambush an enemy line from behind. But that wasn’t her call to make.
Jourdain had much the same worries as he rode up with his unit, returning to the same position as they had previously held before their charge. Quickly spotting Adriah’s troop, he noticed her own unit had suffered a great deal more than his own. Having only suffered minor casualties, the young half breed’s contingent were able to carry out the same duties as would be expected of them. Staring at Adriah’s force, he wondered if his fellow officer’s unit would be able to adequately function properly.
Adriah grew still more concerned as her unit regrouped at their intended position. This wasn’t good. She wondered what had caused the difference between units. She supposed the enemy resistance offered in her direction had done a better job when they were rallying their footmen. She was entirely sure. Regardless the next few minutes were deeply unpleasant. Some had died, but she had to send a few more off to the healers. A couple of them looked like they could lose a limb. The way musket balls hit bone and rebounded, and such was problematic. She hoped the healers were skilled enough to save some of the wounded men and women from further death or need for amputation.
Riding back up beside Adriah after seeing to his own Cuirassiers, he made his approach while she was still deep in thought.
Jourdain coughed into his gloved hand, before removing his helm. “How fares your command? Think they’ll be able to carry out their required function?” He Inquired, trying his best not to sound worried for the Orcish officer.
“Not terribly well, unfortunately. Were are down to barely more than half. About 25 men and women. Most of the rest should make it and be fine. At least assuming the healer division is well supplied for the things they need for their options and such… so I imagine most will be able to return, but probably not during this battle. Until then, sadly we will be a bit handicapped.”
“I see…”
Biting his bottom lip in thought, the half breed tried to think how best to deal with the current situation. As things stood, another charge like the one they had performed would likely be a bloodier and more costly affair.
Looking at Adriah once more, he gave a small smile, “Well, hopefully, we aren’t called to action once more.” Jourdain said, trying to be optimistic.
Though his words would likely fall short given how battles were often a chaotic and brutal affair. Thankfully, however, the young Cuirassier he had sent came riding up at full gallop.
“Indeed. Thankfully the men and women are taking it well enough. They are tough people, still, with luck, we won’t need to make another desperate charge. I imagine part of the problem was that they weren’t willing to give up the crack in the line they had managed to make.” Pausing as she adjusted her uniform, “Fortunately, we should have caused more casualties than we took by a fair margin.” Though she spoke in a slightly optimistic tone, her face didn't entirely display it.
She had to imagine those 15 men and women were in agony as they awaited treatment.
She then turned her head rapidly at the approach of Jourdain's messenger. “Any good news?”
“Sir’s!” The Rider started before Jourdian could reply. “The Captain sends his regards and also his congratulations on saving the formation, though he’d ordered that the Second and Third troops regroup with the rest of the Squadron… He then instructed me to tell you to send the enemy colours to headquarters.”
“Thank you, Cuirassier dismissed.” Jourdain looked over at Adriah once more. “Well looks like our Dark Elf commander has a plan and isn’t as angry as we thought he’d be.”
Adriah’s face lightened visibly, with this news. Not only that the captain wasn’t enraged, but also be the phrasing. “That is something to be thankful for, to be sure.” Adriah managed a smile and thanked Jourdain’s cuirassier who had delivered the messages.
Good news always raised moral, especially if you were hurt. Hopefully, it would fill the wounded with some conviction, knowing they had done well. So, she figured they should know that they had fought well in the battle and that their fellow Cuirassiers wished them well.
A thought then occurred to her and she turned to one of her troops who had managed to come out of it very well. “If you can, head down to the dealer’s division and tell the wounded that the captain sends his regards for saving the formation. They could use some good news.”
The female trooper nodded in response before riding off taking the news of their CO’s congratulations.
Jourdain watched a moment longer as the Cuirassier rode off before speaking. “You think that wise? I know good news is important but isn’t it best to keep your troop at full strength for whatever the Captain has in mind?” He asked calmly, curious about her choice of action.
Adriah nodded at him, perhaps it had been unwise but her instinct had said otherwise. “You may well be right. I suppose my thinking was -knowing they had done well might spur them to recover faster and delay less once they were fit again. I know I am always more eager to do my duty when it feels like I am making a difference.”
“Well, I’ll not judge your choices, I was merely curious was all.” He said shrugging as if to dismiss the topic entirely.
Spurring his horse around, he then made his way to his troop once more, “Either way, best not waste any more time waiting around here to find out what Xan has in store. He may have forgiven our charge, but one thing he will not… is tardiness.”
Adriah nodded, mostly to herself. With a good horse, her messenger should be back relatively fast. Hopefully, nothing would come of it. “True… that is something you can count on.”
And with that, she turned as well to head to her own. It wouldn’t do to wait around shooting the breeze. She best have those of her troop ready as soon as possible. She hedged her horse towards a reasonable trot and rejoined her force.
Within moments the two troops of heavy cavalry were at a steady pace, riding to rejoin with the rest of their Squadron. As they made their way, the two officers had come face to see the state of the battle unfold as some blue-coated infantry began to break and run in parts of the battlefield with the enemy cavalry being repulsed by stable and solid square formations of purple masses of men and women. Jourdain couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as he watched their enemy flee the field before the Imperial army of Tavara. However, the scene that played out below the hill had soon vanished as they rode towards where their Captain was stationed.
Within moments they came to see their CO sitting comfortably atop his warhorse. A Dark Elf male who was well over 100 years old, and has seen nearly half a century of campaigning. Surprisingly, he had remained a Captain through most of it, choosing not to raise any higher in fear he might miss the ‘fun’ of being in the thick of it -a stark contrast to the rest of his race which had a somewhat cynical view towards war.
Spotting the two troops of his Cuirassiers ride up, a boyish smile soon spread across his dark features. “Escalera, Demoulin! It’s good to see you both alive and well…” Pausing mid greeting, he noticed the rather ragged look of Adriah. “Or well, alive I suppose.” He said trailing off for a moment before shaking his head and waving away their salutes.
“Right! So, glad to see you’re both here. Have your troops reform with the rest of the squadron. We’re to pull out.”
The half-breed officer paused a moment, “Sir? Pull out? What do you mean? Are we not to charge the enemy line?”
Adriah was at attention the moment she came into view over her CO. This wasn’t a time for her to allow herself to get distracted. Adriah’s thoughts were white similar, though tinged with a slight relief she did her best to prevent from reaching her face. She'd rather not charged until more of her troop was back in order.
“Oh heavens no! We shan't be wasting time with an army already in full retreat, let the Lancers and Hussars deal with that rabble.” The Captain replied quickly with a wave of his hand.
“Where are we heading sir?” Adriah asked curiously, shaking her own head to clear it any other questions from spurting up.
Thankfully his next words were the type she found to be more agreeable lest she loses more of her command.
Xan turned to face the Orc, grin still firmly affixed to his face. “We’re to escort the Prime Minister, my dear.”
Jourdain’s eyes went wide for a moment, “Vulfram? He’s here? I thought he was at the palace with the Emperor?”
Adriah herself was also shocked by this. “I must confess to being a bit surprised as well sir. I suppose I hadn’t expected the prime minister to want to visit a location of an ongoing battle?”
If their surprise bothered Xan, he didn’t show it, instead, he just waved it all away with a flick of the wrist. “Well, given how the old fool was a General before attaining the post he now holds, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. I’d dare to say he rather enjoys to watch and offer his own advice when he’s able.”
Adriah nodded, somewhat abashed, she shouldn’t have been so surprised she guessed more so given how a regiment of heavy cavalry –more so an elite unit such as their own- was being tasked with the elected leader’s safety. Still, there could have been problems had the battle gone the other way.
“Right… yes, sir.”She replied carefully, keeping her misgivings to herself.
The halfbreed on the other than was still a little unsure, whatever the case, he just let out a small sigh, dismissing any protest he might have -more so seeing how his counterpart looked. Plus, given how they were both junior officers there was no way to really protest the orders given to them by both their Captain and likely their Regimental Colonel.
“Now then, if either of you have no more questions, I rather believe our elected official has waited long enough for his Cuirassiers, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Adriah responded, feeling no need to raise any further questions.
She would offer a salute to the captain, and ride out to gather her troops and rejoin the Squadron just as Jourdain was. Within a matter of minutes and after all the compulsory greetings towards the other Lieutenants was out of the way, the Squadron was off.