A Discussion of tactics

[Francis Beauclair]

A flow of guests are welcomed at the door by an aged retainer to the hushed interior of the redemption club passing the last few gentlemen snoozing in overstuffed chairs the smell of cigar smoke and brandy heavy in the air. They are directed up a large staircase to a large comfortable salon.

Francis stands and greets his guests "Madames et Monsieur" you have been invited to my humble establishment because you have been mentioned to me as someone with an interest in or a capacity for the noble arts of conflict. Imagine if you will what would Julis Cesar have said to Napoleon if they could meet, or your very own Henry V have said to Charlemagne? Well among us tonight are great warriors from many ages and i hope some of you may share your experience and wisdom so we may better defend our city and the beloved ivory tower.

[Jean-Jacques]

A man, immaculately dressed in evening wear,in the fashion of a genetleman, provides his card to the aged man greeting those at the door and is ushered upwards towards the well appointed salon.

He bows a short acknowledgement to those present and remains standing and offers his host a book, wrapped in plain paper.

The book, more of a transcribed folio, is in fact an unpublished diary depicting the events of 1683 in and around the city of Vienna, acsribed to Graf Ernst Rüdiger Von Starhemberg the commander of the garrison given the flight of the Hapsburg emperor in the face of the Ottomans advance.

The visitor speaks, an accent heavily borne of French descent

“I am most gratified for the invitation Ancilla Francis Beauclair, as our host I offer this small token which I trust may also spark discussion, for these events provide much in the way of material for those who wish to discuss tactics and stratagems military and the impact of political, religious and econnomic factors upon the ensuing campaign are most intriguing to discuss.”

Having said as much, Jean-Jacques takes a position, stood near one of the empty chairs.

[Francis Beauclair]

Francis smiles a broad grin of apparent delight as his long manicured fingers close around the book.

"Why thank you mousiure you honour me with your gift. Where you there yourself?, did you see the great struggle?"

[Jean-Jacques]

Jean-Jacques smiles ruefully at the reference to witnessing the siege of Vienna.

“Ancilla Francis Beauclair, my knowledge is not as it were first hand, though tales from first hand veterans from the forces of King Leopold were oft tales of the mess halls of Le Grand Armee. Their tales of an era lost and the glory of what became the last great action of its kind for their regiment has become folklore amongst those of shall we say a kindred spirit.”

he offers an almost impish smile before continuing

“The engagement offers the opportunity to study the meeting of religious, technological, strategic and moralistic forces, as what was termed the battle for the very fabric of Europe was played out outside the walls of that great city. I myself have witnessed more of war than would be discussed over numerous evenings in such company, the tales of the field occupy the minds of many, the dead are the brothers in arms of the living and the dead, their bond inseparable in life and in death, a cause shared cannot be broken.”

The young kindred seems distracted, as if observing a empty space in the room, his gaze elsewhere, he simply grasps the arm of the chair he is beside seems to gather his self and looks at his host, almost lost in his train of thought.

[Francis Beauclair]

Francis smiles, "you are fortunate monsieur to have seen such remarkable times such tales. It is true that war is terrible destruction but i cannot help but feel, the sensations, the comradeship and the passion felt by one simple peasant in the course of a campaign must be the same as that experienced in three lifetimes of simply tilling the field".

[Jean-Jacques]

Jean-Jacques nods, then moves to a different chair and stands beside it,

"Thank you for your gracious words, however we do appear to have slightly drifted, if I may be so bold, from the subject of that seminal moment which provides us with an excellent case study on the art of war from our recent past, albeit you may yourself have borne witness, if not to the engagement, then perhaps to the times."

The visitor, having shifted his position, follows his speech with a casual glance around the salon, clearly showing an interest in the decor and resting his gaze on any tomes as he awaits the debate to continue.

[Francis Beauclair]

The room is subtly bear, pictures shuffled round items reorganised to avoid any hint of the positions that the club owner once held and has now lost. Francis gestures, please "Monsieur take a seat. I confess i had hoped that others might join us but perhaps they were busy.

I wondered what you thought of this new trend for gurilla fighting. It seemed to be used very effectively in the peninsula but can weapons really have come so far as to render formations obsolete."

[Sir Tristram]

There is no sound of a door closing, nor any introduction from the club's staff. Where once there was an empty chair, when those present look back, they see a young man reclining in it. Presumably, he's been there the whole time. Gaunt, dressed in the slightly ostentatious evening-wear of the nouveau-riche, his face a mess of sores and pallid scar-tissue. His gaze passes between those present, taking a while to assess the situation, before commenting.
"I'm inclined to understand that battles are not won in a melee these days, but rather through the application of concentrated missile fire upon an enemy formation. From this, it seems like there's only one winning tactic. In broken terrain - towns, woods, mountain passes, forts, anything worth fighting over - you want skirmishers who can make use of cover and lines-of-fire most effectively at an individual level; initiative and individual flexibility win the day, so you need to train them to act as individuals who are aware enough of their surroundings to support one another and control avenues of advance. Each of them needs the tactical training of a serjant, basically. In suitable terrain, cunning light troops will absolutely massacre a disciplined but tight formation that's trying to hold a single position."
His fingers tap against the chair's upholstry idly, and he falls silent save for the sound of fingernails on fabric.

[Trevor Jackdaw]

((Haven't had an opportunity to change my username. This is Stark and not Jackdaw in disguise. Or was he always Jackdaw in disguise.))

As the others sat staring at Sir Tristan's sudden appearance the smell of cigar smoke fills the room. They turn to see Stark in the corner of the room in the process of taking a drag and immediately lighting a new one off the old. He exhales filling the area around him with a fresh cloud of smoke.

''My apologies if my preferred brand offend your more refined western tastes. Back holm in Siberia you value a smoke with texture on the tongue.'' He draws in another load of the revolting fumes before blanketing himself in a thin aura of the choking smoke. ''I promise to switch to something smoother once the smell of blud is out of my nostrils.''

''As for the idea that they have done away with the old ways of the melee, I'm incline to point out these modern fools still use cavalry. Cavalry for the sake of all things! I've never been a trusting man in the idea. With valid reason. Horses are without exception stupid cowards. Who's only use in a war should be logistical, food or if your desperate a wife for the lesser men. But these fools still ride their mighty steads into the fray believing their valour will save them from being ripped apart by gattling fire or their necks being broke the second the horse hears a load enough noise to spook it.

''Thankfully after the recent conflict in the Crimea Russia is giving it's army the push into this modern age it needs. And hopefully with new innovation with trains and these new.. auto.. motive.. machines the horse will be a dead part of a history that went on for far too long.''

He switches over to a cigarette. The smell of the smoke around him improves slightly. ''Encase anyone here has any romantic notions on the subject of horses and cavalry, I will just say that your wrong and if you doubt me I will prove it.''

[Jean-Jacques]

The Frenchman bows first toward elder sir Tristram, and then towards elder stark,

He moves to face elder Tristram, nods and pauses before continuing, still standing.

“Elder sir Tristram, I too see how the mechanics offered by modern weaponry have superseded the tactics employed at Waterloo, and more late;y the war in the americas, and there is indeed scope for a more irregular force having an advantage in such terrain as you suggest. That predisposes that the enemy plays to the rules of the outdated tactic however which in an of itself would prove a simple test of their tactical knowledge.”

He, have then listened intently to elder starks comments, turns to face the aged kindred and similarly bows, seeming taking great care to match precisely his manner of greeting and stance before responding.

“Elder stark, you are clearly well informed on such matters, and indeed I first suggested that engagement in Vienna, as to my understanding it represented to last engagement of any significance whereby the cavalry of the polish king carried the field, albeit after a lengthy stalemate at the walls. Since that point the armaments have proven that the cavalry forces impact on the field have lessened over time.”

He returns to stand beside a chair facing both elders.