File: Duke Somerset - Will Seymour.jpg (36 KB, 500x669)

36 KB JPG

Important Links:

>What's the deal with War of the Roses: 1932?
https://pastebin.com/ectbmcZq

>Europe Political Map 1932
https://imgur.com/xuayKEe

>Family Tree
https://i.imgur.com/iPZZuiZ.jpg

>Archive
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=War%20of%20the%20Roses

I normally allow between ten and twenty minutes for voting depending on the importance of the issue and how divided the vote is. If the vote is tied up, I usually allow an extra five minutes for a tie breaker, and if no one votes, I may roll for the tie breaker.

I always try to incorporate (and encourage!) write ins if they don't violate the spirit of voted decisions, though I may edit or tweak them to fit better.

With the Christmas Eve's festivities in full swing, you can finally take a thoughtful step back and watch, enjoying the pungent aroma of your cigar and the smooth strains of jazz from the nearby record player.

Tomorrow, Christmas Day, you have a full schedule, between celebrating Mass, giving alms to the poor, and Christmas Dinner, you'll be lucky to get any real time to yourself. Christmas Eve is the time for relaxation and contemplation. With your full family here, you have a multitude of choices for relaxation. Duke Harold, head of the Yorkist faction is here and now would be a perfect time to get closer to him. You might also try to smooth things over with your brother-in-law George after a rough interaction earlier in the day. Your wife was also likely in need of some support after a disastrous action at Plymouth had butchered her Norman countrymen. It might also be worthwhile to shore up your relationship with Count Renaud, your future brother-in-law given his new role in reinforcing your army.

You've already made the rounds of the room once and greeted each guest as they'd arrived, so you don't have anyone who's been totally left out.


>Play billiards with Harold
>Smooth things over with George
>Speak with your Wife and brother John
>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet
>Write in

>>2312985
>>Smooth things over with George
Shouldn't take too long.

>>2312985
We'd best attend to our wife, first of all. Along with helping keep the relationship loving, giving such attention to her certainly looks good, and expresses our household's emotional attachment to this war.

>>2312985
>Smooth things over with George
>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet

A war cannot be fought without loyal allies.

>>2312985
>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet

and if we have the time to do more than one after that, then

>Smooth things over with George

File: WoTR Europe (clean).png (169 KB, 1565x1049)

169 KB PNG

>>2312985
>Smooth things over with George
Take a break from scheming, and we don't want to be on top of Harold the entire time.

Here you go TK, I've cleaned it up.

>>2313011

>Me Gusta

Thanks! I'll have to upload this and put it in the OP.

>>2313017
I could have been more thorough on the Mongols, Turks, and Arabs, but who cares about heathens?

>>2313023
>Heathens
Precisely.

>Smooth things over with George
>>2312996
>>2313002
>>2313010
>>2313011

>Smooth things over with George
>>2313002
>>2313010

>Wife
>>2313001


>Smooth things over with George

>writing

It would be best to have a brother-in-law not totally embroiled against you. While his social faux pas has been extreme, it wasn't unforgivable, especially for a foreigner and more especially for one not versed in court etiquette. You didn't expect it would take long.

You start off toward George and see him catch your eye, expression clouding a bit further.

You stop a short distance away, "Kate, George, I trust you two are enjoying yourselves?"

"I haven't been bayoneted yet," George replies, taking a sip of his drink.

"George!" Kate admonishes, giving you an apologetic look.

You hold up a subtle hand to stop her, "I hate the way things developed," you say. "It wasn't my intention to slight you. Our customs aren't yours and I think that's understandable. You're still somewhat new to our family, and I think in time we will grow to under one another more and more."

George looks like he wants to say more but does not. "It's alright," he says, though his expression says otherwise. "I'd hate to draw you away from your important guest, the Duke." he glances to Harold.

"Nonsense," you say, "None is closer to me than my brother. "Let's put the past in the past."

George nods and takes a longer sip. "I've already forgotten it." With that, he seems to have concluded the conversation.


>Say more to George (write in)
>Play billiards with Harold
>Speak with your Wife and brother John
>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet
>write in

>>2313095
>Speak with your Wife and brother John
Why is Harold's brother a Lancastrian again?

>>2313095
>>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet

>>2313095
>Speak with your Wife and brother John

>>2313103
>Why is Harold's brother a Lancastrian again?
Many factors. To shorten the list: Jealousy over the "favored brother" and a chance to come out ahead.

>>2313117
Are there any Lancastrians or prominent nobles that are on the fence?

>>2313095
>>Speak with your Wife and brother John

>Speak with your Wife and brother John
>>2313103
>>2313109
>>2313139

>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet
>>2313106


>Speak with your Wife and brother John
>Writing

File: Vivvienne De Verley - Wife.jpg (319 KB, 1360x2112)

319 KB JPG

You stay just long enough to continue pleasantries with Kate before breaking away to approach your wife and brother.

They break off their conversation as they take notice of you.

"Will, wonderful party. Gets better every year," John says, voice heightened a little by alcohol.

"I suspect your expectations simply get lower," you tease before turning to your wife. "Vivienne, my dear." You take her hand and lay a gentle kiss on it. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Nonsense, darling!" Viviene says, "John and I were discussing the book I'm reading. Fury from the Shadows."

"How can you read such drivel?" John asks. "For godsake, Vivienne, you're an educated woman with class and taste. Crime novels?"

"It is a detective novel" She says with an heir of hurt. "It is not about crime but about people."

"People," John snorts. "Criminals. Low lives."

"It is a story about heroism and boldness of action. I find it fascinating."

John chuckles, "You're a fascinating woman." He looks at you, "Quite a handful you've got there, Will. How do you deal with it?"

"We met in wartime," you say simply, "Neither of us are plain people. My wife least of all."

Vivienne draws closer to you, looping her arm around yours. "Mon cher."


>John, how's life at the front?
>So tell me, how are you liking your book, dear?
>Have either of you spoken to Harold tonight?
>Write in

>>2313256
>John, how's life at the front?
>So tell me, how are you liking your book, dear?
Nice formatting.

>>2313256
>John, how's life at the front?

File: Spoiler Image (48 KB, 640x489)

48 KB JPG

>>2313263
Yep. Officially doing too much right now.

>>2313256
>>John, how's life at the front?

>John, how's life at the front?

>Writing

"How's the front looking anyway?" You ask.

John scoffs, "Really, do we have to talk war even on Christmas?" He swirls his drink. "It's bloody cold. Miserable. If you did ten years of this in France then you're a better man than I. I feel crazy and it's only been a bloody month."

You don't bother to tell him that you [I]did[/i] do almost ten years of this in France. "Things will get better once the weather improves," you reply. "Weather forecasts say it's supposed to warm up a bit in January."

John shakes his head. "I just want this mess over by then."

"Then we must do our best," Vivienne says. "I would be out there with you if it were necessary."

"It's not," you say. She had extenuating circumstances to fight in France, for her to do so now . . . you shudder to imagine the controversy. "But I appreciate your enthusiasm."

Vivienne looks pleased with herself, "I do what I can. Or what I must. I should think you'd know that by now."

"Believe me, I do," you reply.

A whoop of triumph causes you to turn back to see Harold sink a ball on the billiard table, hands held over his head like a champion to the polite applause of those observing the game.


"I guess what I'm saying is that the front isn't terrible comfortable right now, and that's speaking as an officer. I can't even imagine what the poor sods who have to carry rifles are going through out there."

"It's Christmas," you respond. "So at least there's something of a truce today."

"Here today," John says, "Gone tomorrow."
>Say more to John/Vivienne (write in)
>Play billiards with Harold
>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet
>Wrap up the night
>write in

>>2313433
>>Play billiards with Harold

>>2313433
>Talk with Count Renaud and Violet

>>2313433
>>Play billiards with Harold

>>2313433
>>Play billiards with Harold

>Play billiards with Harold

>writing

"Care for another round?" You ask, leaning on the billiard table.

Harold looks you over, "Am I right in thinking you'll do a spot better than your man?" He indicates Morris who keeps his expression blank.

"It's not an inaccurate assessment," you say, trying to keep from smiling. "I'll go easy on you."

"Ha!" Harold motions to Morris to rack the balls. "Alright, I'll have a go at it. Maybe I'll see some tactical genius from the Dragon of Somerset."

"Oh no," you say.

"That's what Yorkshire Radio calls you. Something of a hero among our little band. It's an image I think you should embrace. Knocking out Lancastrian armies left and right, getting shot in combat. Not many peers can say that."

You concede the point and chalk your cue, preparing to break.

"Though I suppose it runs in the family What with your poor father," Harold continues.

You take your shot and savor the delicious crack as the balls explode apart and ricochet around the table. "God rest him," you say automatically.

"I wonder where we'd be if he were alive," Harold muses as you line up your next shot.

"A sight bit closer to London, I expect." You shoot and fail to sink the ball.

"Don't sell yourself short," Harold says as he takes his own shot, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. In this case, I think you've quite improved on your father's military talents, if you'll pardon me saying so."

"If that's the worst you have to say about my father then I think we'll get along famously," you reply


>Ask Harold about plans for the future of the war
>Ask Harold about plans for the future of England
>Ask Harold about his wife
>write in

>>2313581
>>Ask Harold about his wife
>Ask Harold about plans for the future of England

>>2313011
Cyprus shouldn't be Mamluk

>>2313581
>Ask Harold about plans for the future of the war
>Ask Harold about plans for the future of England

>>2313581
>>Ask Harold about plans for the future of England
>Ask Harold about his wife

>>2313588
Shit, I was going off of memory of the 15th century. I guess I was thinking of the Khedivate of Egypt in the 19th century.

File: 1445741779442.png (1.17 MB, 1360x768)

1.17 MB PNG

>>2313599
Nice try Saracen but brave knights still hold these shores.

>>2313608
Deus Vult.

>Ask Harold about plans for the future of England
>>2313587
>>2313590
>>2313596

>Ask Harold about his wife
>>2313596
>>2313587

>Ask Harold about plans for the future of the war
>>2313590


Gonna do
>Ask Harold about his wife
>Ask Harold about plans for the future of England

>writing

>>2313608
>brave knights still hold these shores
It might be the Venetians.

So which is it TK, Venetian Cyprus or the Kingdom of Cyprus?

>>2313630
Venetian Cyprus

***

"What's after this, Harold?" You ask.

"After billiards?"

"After the war," you clarify. "It won't last forever. One day, it will end and you'll be king. Have you given that much thought?"

Harold smirks, "For starters, I'm going to settle scores with Scotland for trying to stab us in the back, once in the Ten Years War, and again now. Afterward, I think that I'll knock France where it belongs and reclaim the land we lost. Gascony, Normandy," he nods toward Vivienne. "With the French thus reduced, we'll have reclaimed our rightful place of power."

"Have you given any though to how you should accomplish this?" Renaud asks from nearby.

Harold, startled by the fresh voice turns, "The same way we always have. Determination and courage. Strength of arms."

"If you forgive an observation," Renaud says, "It seems this strategy did not pan out so well in the last war. Beside which, I suspect if you attempt to level Scotland, you'll find the French beating down your door. Their navy is not so weak as to be ignored."

Harold scoffs and looks at you for input.


>Somehow, we'll find a way to beat them
>Only with the help of strong allies like Burgundy can we win
>We'll strike when the time is right, and not before
>write in

File: WoTR Europe (clean).png (169 KB, 1565x1049)

169 KB PNG

>>2313685
>Only with the help of strong allies like Burgundy can we win
I wonder if investing in Germany would pay out in the long run. Hanover if we want a pliable ally, Austria if we want a powerful one.

>>2313685
>>write in
Then we'll just have to build a navy of our own to surpass theirs. We have been long overdue in such a pursuit anyway.

>>2313685
>>Only with the help of strong allies like Burgundy can we win
>Like it or not the face of the world and warfare is changing Harold. We can either ignore it and end up rolled over by it, or get out in front and reap the harvest of those too stupid recognize what is happening. My great early gains were because I invested in things that ten years prior we'd never have been able to use.

>>2313721
So what you're saying is we need to turn Paris and Avignon into radioactive piles?

>Only with the help of strong allies like Burgundy can we win

+

>Write ins

>writing

"It's only with the help of strong allies like the Burgundians that we can 8win," you say with a nod toward Renaud. "The French are hardly monolithic or unbeatable. I've seen enough of them bleed to know that many more can."

Harold looks unsold, giving the Count a dubious look.

"Beside which, investing in a stronger navy would certainly go a long way toward making that dream feasible," you dd.

"With what treasury do you expect to do that?" Harold asks. "I'm sorry to say that the funds for a navy are not going to be easy to come by when everyone is fixing their respective holdings after this mess. Maybe if this were a war of conquest we’d at least have spoils to spend, but as it is, we're conquering ourselves."

You have to concede that the Duke has a point, "Perhaps we can streamline tax collection or raise the funds at the state level."

Again, Harold is skeptical.

With a sigh you decide to press on "Like it or not, the face of the world and warfare is changing Harold. We can either ignore it and end up rolled over by it, or get out in front and reap the harvest of those too stupid recognize what is happening. My great early gains were because I invested in things that ten years prior we'd never have been able to use."

"You're saying that in 1942 we'll land an army in Paris via aeroplanes?" Harold asks, amused.

"I'm saying," you continue, "That we don't know what the future holds. In 1918 we fought the French with rifles and bayonets. In the next decade we may simply be able to bomb the whole of the nation from the air or land an armada of tanks. We may be able to pull off a victory simply by our being better prepared."

"I will concede that you've done well for yourself, you may have something there, my boy." Harold circles the table and claps a hand on your back. "Come. A toast. To the future and to victory."

You echo the toast and hoist up the glass Morris pressed into your hand.

(1/2)

As you lay in bed you find the familiar pain in your leg spider-webbing up from your knee and making it difficult to focus on reading the latest combat reports from the Cornish front. You'd really overdone it by spending the day without your cane in an effort to show strength to Harold. Now tomorrow you'd probably be hobbling along like an old man. You're aching to take another hit of morphine to help get you through the night, but you don't feel comfortable doing so in front of your wife, Vivienne, who is under the impression you've become totally independent from any pain medication. It's not as though she needs to know about your ongoing use, it would, if anything, only make you look less capable as a husband and leader.

Beside you, she's on the tail end of her American detective novel, reading is silence interspersed only with the occasional gasp, followed by a fugitive turning of pages.

"Mon cher?" she asks softly.

You'd thought she was still reading, lost in the world of your own discomfort.

"Oui?"

"You look troubled," she says, carefully marking her place with a book marker and laying it on the night stand beside her before turning over to face you.

You shake your head, eyes on the ceiling. "No, I was just thinking about going for a smoke, my leg's been hurting me."

"Still? Perhaps you should go see your doctor again."

You shake your head once more, "It's just lingering pain, I'll be fine."

She's silent a long moment. "Do you blame yourself?" she asks, "For what happened to the Normans?"


>Yes, I asked too much of them
>No, what happened can't be helped. It's war.
>No, that failing lies with Lord Park
>Write in

>>2313837
>Some, If I had come up with a better plan they'd be if not in perfect shape, far better off than they are now. But there's not much I can do about it now.

>>2313837
>Yes, I asked too much of them
It /is/ war but they were hit too hard.

>>2313837
>Yes, I asked too much of them

File: q.jpg (181 KB, 906x882)

181 KB JPG

Pics incoming.

File: qq.jpg (163 KB, 901x886)

163 KB JPG

>>2313858

File: qqq.jpg (189 KB, 953x838)

189 KB JPG

>>2313861

>>2313837
>>Yes, I asked too much of them

File: qqqq.jpg (172 KB, 975x820)

172 KB JPG

>>2313864

File: qqqqq.jpg (149 KB, 889x899)

149 KB JPG

>>2313869

File: qqqqqqq.jpg (153 KB, 722x1107)

153 KB JPG

>>2313884

>Yes, I asked too much of them

>Writing

File: qqqqqqqq.jpg (105 KB, 771x1036)

105 KB JPG

>>2313886

File: qqqqqq.jpg (256 KB, 512x1393)

256 KB JPG

>>2313890

You think on it a moment. "I do. Their success was my responsibility. I asked too much of them, more than was reasonable." You don't allow yourself to dwell on any of their names or faces, the ones you had met. "I asked too much of the."

Vivienne rolls closer and puts her arms around your neck, lips going to your cheek for a soft kiss.

"[I]Mon cher[/i], you are too much a gentlemen for war, I think."

You give her a bewildered look, war having been your trade for more than the past decade of your life.

"That is not to say you do not excel at it. No, perhaps that is your greatest tragedy. You see," she pauses, thinking of the words, "This sort of fighting dehumanizes people. In a war with a foreign enemy, they are alien to you. The French are not a man as much as your neighbor is, no?"

Having seen them butchered like animals without shedding a tear, you can't disagree.

"But for your neighbor, it is different. You do not like to order men to their deaths. This is a good thing I think." She nuzzles her head into your neck and lays still.

"No," you agree, "I don't like it. It does weight on me, but it is a war. I can't simply stop."

"No, you misunderstand," she says, pulling back to hover over you, her hair hanging down onto your chest. "I know you would not ask of them anything you would not do." She looks down at your leg, "I think there are few who would argue that." She studies you intently, eyes sparkling. "I think it is a fine thing to feel emotion for those men. I know I do. Death is a monstrous, ugly thing." She leans in and kisses you on the lips, lingering a moment to pull back again. "I think that is is good in the midst of death, to celebrate life."

Your hand finds its way to her leg, sliding up her thigh to her hip. "Is that so?" You ask.

"Oui." Vivienne smiles and starts to unbutton her nightgown and in a moment, you're helping her.

***

That's all the time I have! Sorry we can't do more. I appreciate you guys playing and want to say a special thank you for the pics and maps and stuff. Because of my raging autism this session didn't go as far as I had hoped. I promise to make it up next time though!

Next session is next Thursday at 7 EST (11 UTC) and I hope to see everyone there!

As usual, I'm around for questions and things.

Thanks!

>>2313919
Thanks for running. Who's currently in the lead in Germany and Russia?

>>2313919
Thanks for running.


And the one things us getting shot did was make us look too and make love too our wife a lot more. If we can kick the opium addiction I would say it's a net gain.

>>2313919
Thanks for running mate.

>>2313920
>Germany
Some ineffectual Habsburg I haven't bothered to name

>Russia
Which part?

>>2313954
>Kick Morphine additction
The good news is you can stop whenever you want, you don't have a problem.


>>2313920
>>2313954
>>2313973
>Thanks

My pleasure!

>>2313981
I meant more winning in their respective active/cold wars, should have been more clear.

>>2314005
Probably the Germans. Despite their internal turmoil they're quite powerful. Russians have a lot of other crap to deal with

>>2314015
Internal conflicts, to be even more specific.

You've talked about a German Civil War before, and the relationship between Novgorod and Muscovy was historically shit.

File: Albert_Lynch_-_Jeanne_d'Arc.jpg (954 KB, 770x1062)

954 KB JPG

>>2313919
Thanks for running man, I'm looking forward to seeing our Norman Brigade rising up from the ashes!

I have to ask TK, if we essentially had the Hundred Years War conclude then does that mean there was a Joan of Arc in this setting?

>>2314018
My apologies, I'm slippin. In Germany open conflict is more or less a daily fact of life. There are many factions between the traditional Monarchists, separatists, socialists, Protestants, etc. The local nobles try to use the conflict to their own advantage, taking sides as they suit them, the result is pretty much endless civil war. It's not very decisive however.

Russia is more simmering rivalry, not open conflict.

>>2314061
My pleasure!

Oh yes, there was a Jeanne d'Arc in France. She led a fearsome brigade of peasants and was a major participant in many battles, known for her religious conviction. Ultimately she was captured by the Burgundians and died in a POW camp. This version of Joan isn't quite as mythologized and wasn't as much of a deciding factor, but she did exist and did perform exceptionally well.

Waking up on Christmas morning, you enjoy the usual family festivities, gifts are opened by the children and pleasantries exchange. A light breakfast is served in the parlor that your main Christmas tree is deployed it.

As you eat your eggs and toast, you read through the latest reports of the mop-up action within Plymouth. Organized resistance has largely ceased after the defenses collapsed, though sporadic urban fighting continues and there is a lot of damage to the outskirts of the city from your armies bombardment of the defenses there, but estimates say the port and city will be opened up to civilian traffic within weeks.

Traditionally, on Christmas morning, you and your family would travel to Wells in Somerset to the cathedral for Mass held by the bishop. It was about an hour's drive through the countryside, normally a chance for the children to witness the natural beauty of winter, but in a time of war it was a protracted series of opportunities for ambush.

Your bodyguard Morris protested strictly against you making the traditional trip, believing the possibility of attack too great. If such a trip were also made in the company of the Duke of York the danger would be multiplied. Arrangements could be made to make the trip under a heavy guard, a motor convoy preceded and followed by armored cars, featuring a pair of 'decoy' cars simply loaded with more trusted armsmen, but it still carried risks.

The plan favored by Morris is simply to have the bishop brought to Bridgwater to perform Mass in your private chapel, infinitely safer, though less public and less prestigious.


>Travel to Mass in Wells with no special arrangements
>Travel to Mass in Wells under heavy guard
>Hold mass in the private chapel
>Write in

>>2332618
>Travel to Mass in Wells under heavy guard

We've just broken the enemies' back. Carry on and Christmas on.

>Travel to Mass in Wells under heavy guard


>writing

File: wells-cath-ext-002-s.jpg (202 KB, 600x463)

202 KB JPG

There was no sense in hiding away like a fugitive. You've whipped all the armies raised against you and drove the fear of God into the hearts of your enemies. You'll go out in style.

Once you dress in you finish dressing for church, most of the rest of your family is ready as well. Your Brother-in-law George won't be attending mass on religious grounds, protestant that he is, but the rest are prepared for service. A small fleet of cars are waiting outside with three whole platoons of soldiers standing at attention, bayonets gleaming in the sun.

Alongside them is a small gaggle of reporters snapping photographs as you and your family board the waiting motor cars, each of you doing their best to ignore the ironclad monsters that sit at the head and tail of the column, machine gun turrets at the ready. Also coming along are half a dozen motorcycles and two more cars full of soldiers. No sense taking chances.

Against the wishes of Morris, you choose to ride with Duke Harold, no sense wasting this opportunity to further ingratiate yourself to the duke. Morris also insists at coming along, the bulge of his sidearm poorly concealed under his jacket. Harold's wife takes up the last free seat in the car, your own wife rides with your brother John. Harold seats on the seat across from you, facing backwards, Morris beside him. Next to you is Harold's wife, Bethany, perhaps a bit closer than is comfortable, not that you mind.

The ride is devoid of any political talk and is mostly dominated with Harold marveling at Somerset's countryside on the ride. His enthusiasm is so sincere you can't tell if he's being genuine or just polite.

Reaching Wells cathedral unmolested, you execute the same circus in reverse as the cars are unloaded before the modest crowd gathered. In the cathedral, you celebrate mass at the leadership of the bishop there. Though 'celebrate' is a strong word for the dull, Latin ceremony. You maintain the proper reverence throughout, your composure only being broken once as Bethany's hand brushes your leg followed by a whispered apology and uneasy smile that you return confidently.

Once dismissed, it's nearly noontime and you feel the stirrings of hunger as well as the dull ache of pain in your leg returning, the morphine you'd taken in the morning is already starting to wear off, though Morris can't safely administer more until you're alone. Not to mention that before you can even return to Somerset, you and Duke Harold undertake the traditional ceremony of giving alms to the less fortunate, handing out bread and coin to a long line of shambling poor.

You note very few men among their number, men of military age that is. It seems that this war is a hungry creature and her appetite has not yet been slaked. Even now on the Cornish front, attrition for combat and sickness are taking their toll.

(1/2)

With the ceremonies of the day concluded, you finally board the cars again in the early afternoon to return to the estate.

"Will, I've given much thought to the course of this war," Harold says seconds after the doors to the car are closed.

"Have you, now?" you ask, tone neutral. Not adding 'I should hope so, it's yours to win.'

"I have," Harold says, face deadly serious. "I've come to the conclusion that puttering about in the back water is going to drag on this affair indefinitely. We need a powerful stroke, something to turn the tide and put some legitimacy to our cause."

"Oh?" you ask.

Harold nods, stroking his beard. "The only reason the Mays get any respect internationally, is that Charles sits on the throne, and I slide about in the hinterlands."

You also don't correct Harold to tell him that the international community recognizing Charles because, in large part, he suits their needs.

"You want to take the capital?" you ask.

"Yes." Harold's response is sure. "I'll be assembling an army in Oxford to strike at London. I plan to pull troops from Yorkshire, Buckinghamshire, Gloucestershire-" he pauses to look at you, "And Somerset. With an army that large, Charles will be forced to meet us on the battlefield or let us besiege London. If the former, we'll destroy him, the latter, we'll starve him out." Harold leans back in his seat, "Weather forecasts are showing favorable weather in mid to late January, when I plan to attack."
>A splendid plan! What do you require of me?
>Don't you think this plan is too risky?
>I'm sorry, Harold, I can't commit my troops to such an action. We have other matters.
>It's a fine plan, Lord York, but I'd like to suggest a change if I may (write in)
>Write in

>>2332773
What's the situation to the east? If his forces are in Buckinghamshire, how does he mean to ensnarl them? Forcing the south coast and closing the noose at Rochester?

>>2332822
>What's the situation to the east
The Turk lays siege to Constantinople.

>>2332822
>writing

>>2332826
Sorry I'm late TK.

Taking London right now might be too bold IMO.

>>2332824
DEUS VULT

File: RoughPlan.jpg (368 KB, 1486x833)

368 KB JPG

You're silent for a moment as you consider Harold's plan. "What is the exact situation as far as your deployment?" you ask.

Harold frowns, "What do you mean?"

"How do you plan on ensnarling the enemy?" you ask. "Forcing the south coast from Buckinghamshire in order to close the noose at Rochester?"

You specific questions seem to give Harold pause. "I'm sorry I don't have my exact orders with me," Harold half-mutters, "But in essence I plan on driving on Watford after forming at Oxford. They'll either choose to sortie and meet me or we'll have to assail their defenses. The Grand Union Canal will certainly make up part of that. There are a few other rivers and thing that could prove challenging," Harold waves his hand as if brushing aside these inconveniences. "But in effect if the Lancastrians won't meet me on the field then we'll proceed to systematically surround London and cut all access to the city." He moves his hands apart, demonstrating a two-pronged attack. "Forking apart to encircle the city and reach the Thames where we'll have the trapped." The Duke claps his hands together. "They'll die on the field of battle or we'll burn them out of the city."


>More questions (Write in)
>A splendid plan! What do you require of me?
>Don't you think this plan is too risky?
>I'm sorry, Harold, I can't commit my troops to such an action. We have other matters.
>It's a fine plan, Lord York, but I'd like to suggest a change if I may (write in)
>Write in

>>2332831
No sweat, welcome to the party, pal!

>>2332859
>I'm sorry, Harold, I can't commit my troops to such an action. We have other matters.
It's just too risky at this point, it would be best to wait a few months at least.

>>2332869

>Writing

File: Duke Harold.jpg (108 KB, 368x492)

108 KB JPG

You shake your head, "I'm sorry Harold, it's just too risky at this point. I simply can’t commit my troops to such an action. It would be best to wait a few months at least. We have other matters."

There is a long silence in the car as Harold regards your blankly. "You'd prefer the Lancastrians have time to better prepare their fortifications? Raise their own army from France? Or perhaps you want York burned to the ground by rampaging Scots while you bide your time."

"Harold, I-"

"There seems to be a fundamental misunderstanding here, Will. I am not asking your permission. I am telling you my orders. Am I not your rightful Lord and King?" Harold leaves the question open. It's not rhetorical.

"Harold, please," Bethany says, looking concerned.

Harold holds up a silencing hand and stares at you intently, waiting for an answer.

You bite off your first reply of 'not yet'. "You are of course," you reply. "But have you not also said I am among your ablest commanders? I see many potential risks and problems with this operation. Ther is so much left to be done, Cornwall to be seized, Plymouth to the be pacified-"

"Neither of which brings me even an inch closer to the crown of England," Harold retorts. "Both serve your own ends. Need I remind you that while you fill your coffers off the spoils of war that Yorkshire is at the mercy of Scottish brigands? That Wales threatens to fall to the enemy?"

"All of these things are interconnected," you argue, "If we take Cornwall, we grow that much stronger-"

"You grow that much stronger, and that much more of my forces are worn down needlessly. If we take London, we can end this foolishness. Or are you saying it's impossible?"
>I'm saying it's an unneeded risk. I'm asking you to reconsider
>I don't mean to be contrary, of course I will do as you ask
>I won't see my men butchered because of your impatience
>write in

>>2332910
>I don't mean to be contrary, of course I will do as you ask
This hastiness will be reflected in the length of his reign.

That's me saying that, not Will.

>>2332910
>I'm saying it's an unneeded risk. I'm asking you to reconsider

He can't leave London. If you pull troops from Yorkshire, you risk York burning anyway. If you send Glucester's men away, what army would you have to protect Wales? If we send troops east, we turn our backs on a cornered foe.

Suppose you send all those men away. Suppose we bleed and slaughter ourselves on London. You'll have your throne, your crown-- but we'll still have all those enemies. The Socts won't give a single lick. Wales will be at no less risk but we'd not have an army to face it.

There is an oppurtunity here. We can roll through Cornwall. We can then support Wals and hold the line on the Scots. He can't leave London. May can't leave his crown because it's all he has. Conquer the country coz, don't throw it away on a single city.

>>2332923
>Writing

And I figured as much, thanks for the clarification!

>>2332949
barely cut in under my time limit! I'll incorporate this as well

>>2332910
>Write-in

Offer to send a battalion under our brother John to guard the northern border against the Scots while we mop up Cornwall

You take a slow breath and weigh your words carefully.

"I’m saying that it's an unneeded risk. Charles can't leave London. If you pull troops from Yorkshire, you risk York burning anyway. If you send Gloucester's men away, what army would you have to protect Wales? If we send troops east, we turn our backs on a cornered foe."

Harold listens to you and does not interrupt.

"Suppose you send all those men away. Suppose we bleed and slaughter ourselves on London. You'll have your throne, your crown-- but we'll still have all those enemies. The Scots won't give a single lick. Wales will be at no less risk but we'd not have an army to face it." You take another breath.

"There is an opportunity here. We can roll through Cornwall. We can then support Wales and hold the line on the Scots. He can't leave London. May can't leave his crown because it's all he has. Conquer the country, don't throw it away on a single city."

Harold waits for you to finish. "We are taking London. I understand what you're saying, and I understand why you think that, but- if you'll pardon me, cousin- it's the voice of defeatism. Once London is ours, the throne is mine, the Lancastrians will melt away. I'm not abandoning York, or asking you to abandon to abandon Cornwall. I'm only asking-" Harold stops himself, "Ordering you to give me part of your army. Besides, if you act quickly, perhaps you can take Cornwall, and Plymouth before I finalize the call up of troops." Harold stops here, gauging your reaction. "Unless of course you're refusing me."

"I am not trying to be contrary," you say, "Of course I will do as you ask."

"Splendid!" Harold says, beaming at Bethany first and then you. "What is it you can contribute to our coming victory?"

You know that Plymouth is all but wiped out, a few more days should be enough to leave the remainder under the control of local militias and constabulary. Cornwall is another matter, with their army mostly wiped out they are likely stretched thin, thin enough that they are only effective as a static defensive force. Even so, you could probably hold them in check with a skeletal force, but it would take a sizable army to smash them within a few weeks. If you're to mobilize a large group of your men to Oxford, you won't have time to strike Cornwall with them and prepare them for the journey north.


>A token force to help Harold (Small)
>A moderate force to help Harold (Medium)
>A sizeable force to help Harold leaving a thin force behind to hold the Cornish line (Large)
>I'm having serious reservations about this plan, Harold. I'll have to consult with my generals.
>write in

>>2332969
>A sizeable force to help Harold leaving a thin force behind to hold the Cornish line (Large)

The crown doesn't make a king, Harold. It's having those loyal to you believing it. I am loyal and you'll have my men, but I'm left to pray I'll have enough for you when this ends.

>>2332969
>A moderate force to help Harold (Medium)

>>2332969
>>A sizeable force to help Harold leaving a thin force behind to hold the Cornish line (Large)

I think its all or nothing at this point. If this campaign fails, it won't quite matter if we take Cornwall or not. Even if, by some chance, we end up surviving this War of Roses but fail to grasp victory then we all but ensure that Normandy will never be reclaimed.

That is unacceptable. The Mays must die.

>A sizeable force to help Harold leaving a thin force behind to hold the Cornish line (Large)

>writing

You let silence linger, long enough to produce and light a cigarette. You draw in a deep breath of the fragrant smoke, blowing it toward Harold.

"I'll give you whatever you need," you say. "Say . . . Four brigades and their support elements."

"I think that will do. The Army of Somerset will be felt on the battlefield."

You give a silent nod of consent, taking another drag. "But, the crown doesn't make a king, Harold. It's having those loyal to you believing it."

Harold gives you a dangerous look before you proceed.

"Oh, I'm loyal, don't worry about that, and you'll have my men as I said, but I'm left to pray I'll have enough for you when this ends."

Harold scoffs, looking irritated, "That's hardly the sort of attitude I expect from the Dragon of Somerset. Aren't you ashamed of thinking so ill about your army?"

"I believe in the abilities of my men," you counter, "I just don't discount the skill of May's armies. Really, I think it's all or nothing at this point. If this campaign fails, it won't quite matter if we take Cornwall or not. Even if, by some chance, we end up surviving this War of Roses but fail to grasp victory then we all but ensure that Normandy will never be reclaimed."

Harold smirks, his eyes still hard, "You'll have Normandy shortly after you get me my throne."

You agree, "Leaving Normandy to the French isn't an option. The Mays must die."

"And so they shall, by my sword, even if you're the one wielding it. To that end, I'd like you to command your forces in the field. You'd be one of my army commanders, likely commander of my right Wing. You're among my best generals, Will and- though I know you have misgivings about this operations- I have seen your skills in action. I want to put them to their best use. Will you command Somerset in my Royal Army?"


>I'll go myself, yes.
>Lord Park can handle it
>My brother John will command my forces
>write in

>>2333042
>I'll go myself, yes.
Not going seems like an insult to our men.

Again me, not Will.

>>2333042
>I'll go myself, yes.

>>2333042
>I'll go myself, yes.

The Dragon flies, May dies.

>I'll go myself, yes.

>Writing

>>2333074
>The Dragon flies, May dies.
Oh, that's fun

"Yes," you say, "With pleasure."

"Excellent. As I said, I'm planning on having you lead the right wing, Gloucester the center, and Buckingham the right wing of my army."

"Have you given any thought to who will be over all commander?" You ask, trying to sound as causal as possible.

"I may take the task myself," Harold says, pondering the idea. "It'd be a learning experience, a bit of a larger command than I've ever held before. Larger than any of us really."


>You'll do wonderfully I think
>Might I inquire if I may be appointed commander of the army? It would be a tremendous honor
>Write in

>>2333093
>You'll do wonderfully I think

It would be disingenuous for us to criticize the plan and then want to lead it.

>>2333093
>Write in
This is not the kind of campaign one uses as a "learning experience"

>>2333105
>>2333119

>Writing

Needless to say, your confrontation with Harold and his harsh handling of your objections left you in a bad mood for some time after the car ride. You maintain appearances during the rest of the family celebration, including Christmas dinner, listening to endless speeches proposed by Harold, his courtiers, and yours. Finally, after dinner when things are finally starting to wind down, you're in an ill-mood to be bustled into the study without warning by your brother Stanley.

Before you can demand to know what's going on, he speaks up, "I've found your potential confidants among Harold's people."

Your bad mood dissipates almost instantly. "Really? Go on."

Stanley doesn't answer right away, drawing a small flask from his coat and taking a swig before screwing the cap back on.

"It shouldn't be surprising how porous his hangers on really are. We have quite a few options, each has unique strengths, though I caution against trying to engage more than one. If we grow this little cabal beyond a single individual, there is a very high likelihood of Harold catching on, or us being sold out. As innocent as I'm sure this all is, I don't very much look forward to having the King call us traitors."

(1/2)

File: Stanley Seymour.jpg (124 KB, 600x787)

124 KB JPG

"I understand," you say, patience wearing thin, "Please go on."

"Right. First of all, there's a man called McVay, he's Harold's top officer, sort of similar to Lord Park. He's the man that's really been running Harold's army in Yorkshire and likely will be steering any military action Harold takes from now into the near future. He's competent and bold but ambitious. McVay's shortcoming is his common birth. He's something like a shadow in the wings, not getting any of the credit for Harold's meager successes. If we were to pursue a closer connection with him we'd likely have much closer control over what Harold's Army does and how they operate."

"I also spoke with Harold's treasurer, Anders. A simple man who's good with money, likely to control the Exchequer after Harold takes control. Now he's just got York, but in a few weeks-months' time, he may control the finances for the entire kingdom. Certainly someone to want on your side. Like McVay, he's a commoner."

"And you think that control of Harold's purse strings will give us effective control over him?"

"Potentially," Stanley says. "Obviously we can't simply order Anders to deny Harold funds, but we may be able to use the situation to our advantage."

"Who else do you have?"

"A servant named Griggs. He's a commoner, obviously, and a very base sort of man. He's Harold's driver, butler, messenger, you name it."

"Like Morris?"

Stanley shakes his head, "No. Morris is a trusted man. Your bodyguard, confidant. Griggs is a mere pawn. But even a pawn has uses."

You're skeptical. "Like what exactly?"

"Dirty work," Stanley says, exasperated that he should have to tell you. "What do you think you'd order a vulgar man like that to do? He doesn't have much in the way of scruples and would have close access to Harold and his family."

"Hmm," you run your chin.

Stanley takes another swig and looks uneasy. "There's another."

"Oh?"

"Bethany may be willing to support you."

"Bethany? His wife?"

Stanley nods. "She seems distinctly unhappy with her husband's activities and attitude toward this war. I doubt she'd be willing to . . . Well, sink to the sort of violent acts Griggs may be, but she could give you a close ear into Harold's thoughts, plans, activities. She would be a very close observer to the king." Stanley takes great care not to say 'spy'. "If we select a target, you can approach them in private and see what they might be willing to help us for."
>Harold's wife , Bethany
>McVay his military man
>Anders, his treasurer
>Griggs, a servant in need of cash
>write in

>>2333197
>Anders
Anders seems the interesting one and definitely the key to any long term success. My natural response would have been McVay, but we'll likely come to know him shortly enough come London. A man like him is like to come to us eventually, if he thinks his star might shine brighter under a different wing.

Bethany doesn't need be mixed up in this and there's no reason to cause anything that might be seen as sordid. Griggs is a good man to know about, but not one to have any stake in.

>>2333197
>McVay his military man

With him in our pocket we may avoid a disaster in the coming campaign yet.

>>2333197
>McVay his military man
I'll go with McVay as well, I was torn between him and Bethany, but he's more valuable on the eve of Harold's Barbarossa.

>>2333197
>Anders, his treasurer
Having too much control over the military side makes us a liability and we can justify our advances on Anders due to our connections in America.

>Anders
>>2333278
>>2333316

>McVay his military man
>>2333293
>>2333307

Well. Gonna hold just a bit longer for tie breaking. I hate rolling to decide.

>>2333197
>>Anders, his treasurer
But also make in roads to McVay if possible.

>Anders, his treasurer

>writing

"McVay and I- I think- will get better acquainted over the coming campaign. I can make inroads with him then. As for Griggs, I doubt I'll need someone of his . . . Caliber. And I don't see any reason to get Bethany mixed up in all this."

"I assume you'll want me to make contact with Anders then?" Stanley asks.

"He interests me, and I think offers the best possibility of long term benefit. Not to mention helps me branch out a bit. Go talk to him and find a way to let me talk to him in private. I think we'll have a lot to discuss."


***

My time is up, thanks for playing guys! Next game is next Thursday 7 EST (11UTC) hope to see everyone there!

>>2333357
Thanks for running, can't wait to Bad End in Exile.

>>2333357
Thanks for running man, I'm looking forward to this kickass battle. Hopefully we'll have our Norman fighting force back in time for it!

>>2333366
We need to knock up our wife so that when we die in battle, our son-in-exile can avenge us

>>2333366
>>2333396
>Thanks

Always a pleasure!

>>2333366
>Bad End in Exile.
Exile? You're being optimistic, I see!

>>2333396
>I'm looking forward to this kickass battle
Here's hoping it lives up to your expectations!

>Normans
Recruits should start trickling in soon, though with harol's time table the Exile Brigade will likely have to remain in Somerset to train and reinforce.

>Knock up wife
Already give it a few good goes, what's one more?

>>2333416
>Already give it a few good goes, what's one more?

Once more into the breach!

>>2333396
>our son-in-exile can avenge us
Just like the Jacobites, haha.

I cry inside.

>>2333416
Bother, I completely forgot this was on yesterday, regardless, caught up and thanks for the run, looking forward to trying to pull something vaguely like a success out of the coming London campaign.