In a Grand Hall, usually, the plans of battle would be made. Tables would be set out, and small pieces of strategic emplacements that represent the garrisons or individual squads would be slid into multiple positions to compromise the success of each move. Like a board game, the pieces would be moved in and out of locations as a stage of trial and error formatted into play, whilst endless cycles of death and the ability to simply send more reinforcements to try again was more open to the abilities of the four Generals. That was every one of those generals, minus one in particular.
One of the eldest, General J'havan was quite the character indeed. He was not like the others at all, and in all honesty was one of the more under-rated generals. Under-rated is a strong word to use, considering how he worked in almost total secrecy, minus the King's brief knowledge. Being in charge of a Covert Operations and Tactical Engagement Force meant he had perks the others did not. He could work by his own word, without any advice. Present during the times of their creation, he was recognised as one of the First Majors of the Tactical Guardsmen. This skill and experience has brought nothing but sheer power and knowledge to his abilities, making his word fully trustworthy. J'havan had the capabilities to deal with situations how he saw fit. Yet this time, he did have a little bit of restriction on the outcome.
The King of the Thalburn Kingdom was more than happy to allow J'havan to use his forces with benefits, but the only concern that existed was that he
'Covered the Trails of Revolution...Remove the hope'. There was only one thing to do to this. MiddleSeed could have been seen as an uprising, though the panic was caused by only a few possible suspects. It gave the Thalburn an advantage that J'havan saw to be quite delightful.
"General J'havan, Sir..." Major Thomso, one of the higher ranking Field Overseers of the Tactical Guardsmen and trusted connection to Grant, entered with a strong stance, saluting his superior with pride and respect. The two were in a densely defended room, one built, like many, near the village that was in panic. Many of these shelters were dug, and allowed them to discuss tactics in safety, whilst allowing them to receive quick and accurate feedback of the situation without any delays. With them, two Tactical Guardsmen Captains, Geras and Yukon.
"Many of the Rooftops have been set up with marksmen of the 3rd Musketeer Division, and we have regulars handed to us from the Guardsmen Branch securing the streets. Your next order from here on, Sir?" There was a short silence. Thinking had to be done, but with someone like J'havan, thinking was easily subsided with quick and useful thinking. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what he wanted to do about it. There were many things that could be done. Simple arrest, securing of the village of defence. But he had other plans, ones that were more fitting to his demands...
"We have an issue, Gentlemen, and Lady..." He nodded with a faint smirk to Captain Yukon, who in return chuckled lightly. Grant began to pace around the room, and around the map of the village on his table. His boot's thuds on the flooring echoed through the secure building.
"With this accident, whatever caused it...It symbolises something, does it not? Let me tell you a short tale, one I heard only a few minutes ago...From the Royal Guardsmen of Thalburn, 5th Division, Squad 4 from Platoon 2...A soldier was killed in the streets, by fire...He walked out, calling for the help of the fighters and people who assisted in 'Controlling' the fire. What did he get out of it? No help...Nothing..." The room was dead silent. They had not heard of the tale, yet they knew this was a common part of their rulership. They hadn't the people's trust...And so when a man innocent of the powers his or her Fascist leader had was killed because of rejection, they knew they had to react fast. They all knew that.
"Now tell me...Who wants to write the letter to the parents or guardians of Private Howie Graham? Anyone?" There was no response...None at all.
"My position holds a lot of power, my comrades...We have indeed, more than we could have ever wanted. Now when a single spark of revolution is thwarted out of thin air, it is our duty, by the King's order, to remove the sense of false hope it gives off. Better to prevent a nuisance from happening before it does, right? Well...I have to make many rational decisions, many difficult ones too...But I have my conclusion..." The room waited, all standing in a formal fashion that was of military standard. They were kept in anticipation as a grin swiped across his face, Grant coughing out a quiet chuckle before ending up where he was before, at the head of the table. They needed his command to move on, and he was to give it to them with very little remorse. He was a ruthless man who knew how to get a job done, how to take care of himself and any issue that was at hand...
"The Sarkath Treaty in this 'MiddleSeed' has been broken, regardless of the origin of this disaster. I've had targets painted and marked down on the lists of our on-field Sergeants. My ideals are to turn this place into something more useful, seeing as it cannot take care of itself no longer. Perhaps a training outpost? Or a Reconnaissance camp?" Finally, someone spoke up...The Major, being the only one with the guts to question his authority, knew what he was getting himself into. The other two would be gutted for even speaking against him, but the Major would only receive and answer he deserved.
"My apologies, Sir...But...How will we get the people of MiddleSeed to agree with the change in settlement? Marksmen can only deliver enough fear into their minds before they start to revolt...And the guardsme-" He was cut off by a crisp, chuckling accent that delivered a fateful answer.
"Who is the current Captain in the town, of the Tactical Guardsmen, ey?" The major responded, knowing what he had deployed, and who he had.
"Uhh....That would be..." Thomso thought for a short while, recalling who he had deployed. Quite the risk taker, indeed, knowing that this situation would get quite bad over time. One of their best had to be sent in...A man with a slick attitude, but a burning desire to get back at those who not only put him on the verge of death once, but twice.
"That would be Captain Ramsnouth, Sir...First Platoon, Second Squad." The chuckle once again came round a final time from the jaws of J'havan. He was admiring the Major's decision of who to place. He was dangerous to the enemy, fuelled with a hunger for redemption of both pride and physical injury.
"Brilliant...Tell him to hold the Second and Third Squad back temporarily...Inform him to give the order for the Marksmen dotted on the rooftops to begin firing on those targets painted, not including the loyalists who remain indoors. Once they are done...They can move in and clear out the rest of the village...Go on, get the message to him now!" His legs dangled over the ledge of the Log cabin's rooftop, as he watched the fire rage on. Beside him were two Sergeants, and a corporal as such. The ash-filled sky gave a sense of pleasure to his mind. This was one of the villages he fought to protect those years ago during the Settlement Campaign. This was one of the villages he nearly died saving, twice. Well, it was saving in his mind. The Sarkath Doctrine was a good way to suppress them from uprising, whilst giving them a
'Fair' treatment to ensure they did not go against the Doctrine itself. It was a good way to narrow down the competition.
"Huh...Talk about a bonfire...Sometimes I wish I could just beg for the King to just burn down most of these lil' villages...Makes us have to waste more ammo on the lil' thugs that try to run a show here...Though I must say, this show they have going is more than delightful." A Cackle of the group lightly dabbed his response. They too also thought much alike Hugos, which was why his chain of command meant a great deal to them. His word was highly respected, even though the man himself was a danger and a risk taker for both sides of the war. But then again, how can you succeed without taking a little bit of a risk here and there.
His hand swept up and down the barrel of his Flintlock pistol. These new-age designs and firearms meant those in the Tactical Operations could smoothly run amok of their opposition with little effort, and style for some factors. Many of the other cities and kingdoms were so far behind on their development of firearms that Thalburn was almost completely unbreakable when it came to range. He cleaned more off of his barrel, the soot of the festival stage having built a shell around the gun's outer components. But he stopped as soon as the sound of footsteps increased from behind them. As he swivelled, the sight of one of the Privates from the Third Squad emerged from a thin layer of plume. In his hand, a letter...
"Captain Ramsnouth, you have new updates on your orders from General J'havan." The younger man held out the letter, allowing him to take it, before he himself took off into the distance to rejoin his own Squad's area of deployment. Taking the letter and unfolding it bit by bit, he began to read out the current orders.
What he read was like music to his ears, only to his eyes, and them being words of great satisfaction. New orders to put the infamous backbone of the Thalburn military to use. The rifles. The rooftops had been scattered with many marksmen, keeping watch over the area. They were originally ordered to look for any armed individuals, but they were not expecting a change of orders. They'd be switching from defending the village...To seizing it...Hugos smirked with great satisfaction.
"Corporal...inform the 6th Squad of the Musketeers of their new orders...We'll be heading in after they've finished raining hell on them..."
Fae backed away slightly as the others turned up, showing instantly companionship with the woman as soon as she engaged in short conversation with the man. Yet, within almost an instant, the tables were turned, and weapons were once again raised towards him. This time, Fae did not flinch, nor react in such a way. He only gave half of a glance towards him, before the woman already got to their first to explain the current situation. She was agreeing to take him along, but to squeeze information out of him...Fae knew this may turn out in many different ways, but there was a large sense of determination that led him on to thinking this could have great benefits from it. Playing along was an idea that was a risk worth taking, at this point. He stepped forward, preparing to say words of his own.
"I have a location that is hidden, far from the threat of this somewhat invasion...But close enough to connect a path from here to my acquaintances...It'll require a few days of laying low there before any drastic moves are done...But I can answer the questions once we settle there...And like she said, it'd be best to move as soon as possible...Who knows what the Thal-" He was cut off by a thunder strike...Or was it a thunder strike? No...It was not, as more and more began to repeat and follow up from that. Soon, the panic grew wilder, only to be drowned out by the sound of gunfire listing potential targets behind the trigger. More and more began to shout out and threaten the silence and peace, making Fae tense up and turn. Smoke from the roof he called a home indicated that marksmen were also firing from his home. They'd be armed with swords, rifles and small daggers...But only fired into the distance due to their underexposure towards the group.
They were firing, as if it were all part of a new order. They must've had a change in plans, because these soldiers were only told to defend from further attack. Something sparked this...And that something could only be figured out until later...Right now, they needed to retreat from the village whilst they were not marked down as a target. There were obviously going to be little survivors from what was happening...Little numbers that make big differences.
"We...Need to move now! Just...Follow me when you're ready...I'm going to find a clear path to safety. Meet me on the street corner in literally a minute, and grab those who you need right this bloody second...I'm not fucking around here anymore, and you aren't either..." His tone was more commanding now, but not in a ruthless or horrible way. It was bold, as if an old spark had been reignited back into his bloodstream. He was back again as he used to be. Someone who had the ability to handle situations as grim as these...He was back as Fae.
