Fort De Bellegarde - Make Ready
by an NPC

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News of the war has reached the men of Fort De Bellegarde...

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"Ladies, gentlemen. Thank you for coming. All of you."

Before Captain Lecarde, arrayed along the various tables and chairs in the Officer's Lounge were the assorted commissioned and non-commissioned officers of the fort, alongside the statuesque figures of the Faerie officers attached. All of them, grim and sober expressions about, save for the demure expression of one particular Puca songstress...

"We can confirm the reports and dispatches from Tristainia. As of this moment, the Kingdom of Tristain is at war with the so called Holy Republic of Albion, and from what I understand… we have no formal alliance with Germania due to treachery most foul-"

One officer reacts in the expected manner; "Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!" he ground out, banging his fist against the table, "Is this because of our association with the faeries, is that it?!"

"Soft and fair, lieutenant," the sergeant next to him chides, "We only have so many tables to go through today. We knew this from the moment Bouchard rode in with the news. Yes, I suspect that is not what the captain would like to inform us of, correct?"

The captain nodded, "Indeed Sergeant Beaumont. I'm asking all of you to pay careful attention to the men in the coming days. The general order extended towards fully calling out the levies from the towns and villages, and we are to begin fortifying the area and making Fort de Bellegarde as much of a bastion and a hindrance to the enemy as physically possible until otherwise ordered. To this end, I am asking for a basic overview of our current resources and if necessary, begin making preparations to requisition whatever else we need. Quartermaster, the state of our armoury?"

"Our armoury is fully stocked with musket, sword and spear, we won't be found wanting for arms. However, our stocks of powder and shot are, as usual, just barely enough for our men as it is, let alone the faerie troops." The quartermaster shrugged pessimistically, "I doubt we shall be on the priority list for resupply given our distance from the border. Still, we could do with whatever stocks are available from the town and whatever we can scrounge up from command."

Lecarde scribbles down the recommendations, "Done. Our provisions then?"

"We are already on three-quarters of our usual ration allotment to extend the life of our supply, and the men have taken to it with some understanding. The number of mob patrols we have been committing to has proven to be an unexpected boon; we are trying to bolster our stocks with hunting and foraging during patrols," he gestures to the Puca lady, "Lady Erika's staff are proving to be rather helpful in turning the various edible mobs into something palatable to the men."

"And how are the men, sergeants?"

"Some speak of Reconquista's work as justified, given our association with the faeries, a notion which we've beaten out of all but the most stubborn of the men," replies one sergeant, "The rest are too busy trying to feel up the girls to pay much attention to such nonsense, and we've had to beat them for that too. But otherwise, the men are eager, ready to stand and do their duty."

The room turns their attentions to the Puca and her attendants. One of the lieutenants decides to ask the question on all their minds;

"Milady, are your faeries ready and able to stand with us too, should the worst come to pass?"

"Of course they are. My girls won't simply give up on your forces," she nods, flicking back a strand of hair, "This is of course, on the condition that they continue to serve as Singers and supporters rather than serve directly on the line. They are just young girls after all."

With the murmurs of general approval, Lecarde brings his attention to the three officers assigned to the patrols,

"Lieutenants. How are we doing for patrols, do the Dagger Dog packs show any sign of thinning soon?"

"It is as we have reported to the Crown,"
"All major routes are clear of mob presence, though the back routes are still crawling with them."
"Should we maintain our extermination routes, or...?"

"Keep the current routes, but pull out if they're beginning to take their toll on your units. We need as many men on their feet as we can. Anything else to add? No?"

Lecarde hesitates for a moment, turning to Mathieu, who nods at him briefly. The captain takes a moment to steady himself,

"Ladies and gentlemen, I shall not lie. This is possibly one of the darkest hours in Tristain's long and illustrious history. We few stand arrayed against forces many times our number and many times our strength. Our old allies have either abandoned us or are themselves in need of aid, and we are reeling from the recent arrival of our new allies and their own struggle. What I am asking from each and every one of you, man or faerie, is not trivial but God and Founder willing, we will endure.

When the time comes, we may be called upon to serve our Queen and Country in the most desperate of ways. I have no doubt in my mind that we may die. But the men of Tristain will not simply roll over like the dogs we have been slaying by the droves. If we should die, we shall die making every single inch of this land rich with the blood of the heretics in return. We will crush their feeble imitation of faith with our indomitable spirit.

And when we have weathered what passes as an assault by the White Isle, I am sure, we will make them pay for their temerity. We shall shake their skies and shatter their minds under an unyielding storm of glorious retribution until all trace of the taint of treachery and heresy is purged from this earth. I wish you all to live for that day, that we may repay each and every strike against us, tenfold.

This is an order: Endure this storm. Endure and live to vanquish this evil, to rise and rise and rise again, until the heavens themselves cannot hold back the eternal lights of our faith.

We will endure, as Tristain has always endured.

Make ready the men for war. Dismissed."