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Post by Ladorak on Sept 24, 2012 22:50:30 GMT -5
October 3rd was a momentous and dangerous day for the nascent Rosferian Republic's Directory. It had not yet come into fruition, though was only three days away from doing so. The Directory was scheduled to sit its legislative assemblies on the 6th of October, and from there, they would proceed to elect the five Directors to their seats as head of Rosferia.
Unfortunately, it seemed the new government was in danger of being snuffed out before it even began. The extreme royalist right, outraged over the two-thirds clause in the new Constitution, declared foul on the new law of the land and promised to bring the government to its knees and then execute it in a bloodbath before October 5th was out. They began assembling in the Le Peletier section of the capital, and the 20,000 strong National Guard initially did nothing, as their commander, Menou, was an open sympathizer with the revolt.
Rosferia was facing the odd paradox of the extreme right rebelling against the reactionary right. It was a paradox only madmen would dream up, yet here it was all the same. October 3rd passed without much happening on either side. The Conventional deputies quietly began arming themselves for a final stand, yet went about their work while their enemies massed in the Le Peletier section of the capital. Menou was ordered repeatedly to do something, but failed to act decisively.
Dawn broke on October 4th with a peculiar red streak to the skies, as if the heavens themselves foretold the upcoming bloodshed. By midday, with increasing evidence that the royalists would soon start acting, bells began tolling throughout Cosnair, warning the citizens to stay indoors or face the consequences. The capital was in danger, and every church was pealing the warning.
Amidst the flurry of activity at the Convention, the deputies frantically debated over what was to be done. The regular soldiers of the Army of the Interior numbered 60-70,000 on paper, but in reality, they numbered only around 5,000 effectives. The question of who to command them was soon settled in favor of the binturong who had come to the Convention's assistance when Milton Dragonis had required arresting a year ago. Paul Barras was nominated on the spot to lead the Army of the Interior and the capital defenses.
Unlike the last time however, Barras did not outnumber his enemy this time around. Dragonis had been defended by less than 10 National Guard soldiers when Barras and the police had stormed the Hotel de Ville to bring the crocodile to justice. Now Barras had 5,000 soldiers, but the royalists had gathered roughly 20,000 to their banner, nearly as many as had stormed the Tuileries to overthrow the King in the summer of '92. Odds were four to one in favor of the rebels, and Barras wasn't liking these numbers.
He spent the day consulting with Menou and learning about the enemy dispositions and strength. Many of the National Guard HAD in fact defected to the royalist side, but that was no surprise. Menou had some cavalry deployed at all key streets leading to the Tuileries however, and for now they were doing their job and keeping the rebels back, though their concentric ring of steel was gradually tightening.
The portly binturong bit his lip, and chewed it for a moment as he studied the maps. Dammit! He was no general, much less a garden variety soldier! He had only had a brief stint with the military twenty years ago, when he'd served in India at the Siege of Pondicherry. That had been a defeat for Rosferia, as Welkin had conquered the Rosferian garrison, though the binturong had been paroled immediately along with the rest of the garrison. Even so... that was NOTHING compared to this. He knew nothing about commanding troops in combat, and recognized he was out of his league with this, but did nothing to show his inner frustration to the gathered deputies around him.
Shaking his head, he sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was now past sunset, and Menou was FINALLY showing signs of stirring his cavalry to charge the gathering royalists in an attempt to disperse them, apparently having gained some nerve in the past few hours. "Dammit..." the binturong murmured, looking about him. What to do about this? His very life (and everyone else's in the Convention) rested on his shoulders now. If he failed... he knew full well what the royalists would do to him. He represented the "new property" that so enraged the established aristocracy and former nobility. The end would not be pleasant.
But there was more to this than met the initial eye. If the royalists won... not only would Cosnair become a killing ground, but so would all of Rosferia. The legitimacy of the republic would be challenged everywhere, and civil war would erupt... of that, Barras had no doubt. This was a job he neither wanted nor felt particularly qualified for. 5,000 against 20,000... how the hell was the republic supposed to triumph here? He needed a plan, and he needed one quick. But wait... maybe... yes! That might work! And if didn't... they were all damned anyway. It was desperate... but it was the only card the binturong had.
Glancing around him again, he said a few hushed words to some of the deputies clustered like bees at the table, and then scanned the room for something in particular. Come on... he had to be... there he was! "You!" He pointed right at Sciurus Whirlpaw. "You're General... ahem... Monsieur Lantzer's friend, are you not? Where is he? Do you think you could fetch him and bring him here at once? I'm going to need a second-in-command... one who is more experienced at field command. Now the republic's future depends on this... tell him that..." Here Barras raised his voice, so that most of the deputies could hear him. "Tell him that the Convention will RESTORE him to full rank of Brigadier General if he agrees to serve in defense of the republic. Will you do this?" the binturong asked, the frantic feelings just barely edging through his voice, though he was a master of keeping it contained.
Boneparte Lantzer had left word with Sciurus that he would be heading to the theater that night at a playhouse very near the Tuileries. He didn't want to wander too far from the center of the city, as he new the rebels were massing. Even in times of danger, the meerkat was adopting the typical Rosferian tradition of enjoying the fine arts before the coming apocalypse.
This was different though... everything about this uprising just felt different. Boneparte couldn't quite place a claw on it, but as he sat rigidly in his seat and watched the belting contralto sing her lungs out on stage, he just KNEW this was different. There was something so moving and sad about her... as if she knew this was the last night she'd be performing. It almost moved him to tears, and he pursed his lips as he watched her let her voice rock the very halls themselves.
As her note lingered and then trailed off, the audience rose and broke out into wild applause as the number ended, the curtains lowered, and intermission began. Intermission... Boneparte needed to stretch and get some fresh air. The opera house felt oppressive for some reason, and the meerkat's mind was wrenched back to the reality of the situation he was in... that they were ALL in now. Enough hiding from reality... it was time to get out there.
Pushing his way through the crowd and shouldering his way through the beautiful green, pink, and white marble Rococo lobby of the ostentatious theater, he paused but briefly to take it all in, though he'd already seen it on his way to his seat. Rich red velvet curtains hung from the ceiling, concealing windows and niches in the lobby to keep the Rococo flow uninterrupted.
Stepping out into the chilly night air (autumn was here all right in Cosnair, as it had chased summer out rather rapidly right around the equinox), the meerkat pulled his jacket up around himself a little tighter, and looked up at the night sky. It was clear, the stars shining above him, and indifferent to the pealing bells still sounding all around him. They hadn't quieted any. The first thing he could think of was how those bell ringers were certainly earning their keep today!
Shoving his paws in his pockets, he temporarily forget about the opera, and started walking in the direction of the Tuileries, figuring he'd at least go and see what the Convention was up to. He knew they'd still be in session... they hadn't gone some since the 2nd. Things were too dangerous and important to take a break.
Boots clapping on the stones, the meerkat began walking away from the opera house and toward the former winter palace of the Rosferian monarchy, not realizing of course that someone he knew rather well would be looking for him, though fortunately, as he wasn't deviating from his path, the chances of them running into each other were very high at this rate.
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Post by Carrow on Sept 26, 2012 18:33:39 GMT -5
Sciurus was in the process of winding down his career as a politician. He'd told his meerkat friend that he no longer felt that that life was meant for him - he hadn't felt that way for very long, certainly, but at least he had helped to get the new Constitution passed, thus proving himself to be far more effective than he had been during his first stint as a member of the Convention. Everything was going to plan, and things were in place for the legislative assemblies to start on the 6th of October, but there was quite a threat to the new government that seemed to hang over the very skies of Cosnair itself. A rather oppressive atmosphere had stolen in, almost unnoticed, on the 2nd of October, and it soon became clear why. The royalists were declaring an open revolt.
The squirrel was clearly uneasy about this, and for the last three days had eaten, drank and slept in various places centred around the Jardin des Tuileries. He didn't trust himself to leave the grounds of the Tuileries for anything - save nipping out for a brief moment on the 2nd and heading home to declare his hypnosis parlour closed until further notice. For him, it was a lot like how he had been in the wake of the deaths of Otto, Camille and Sara, only this time there wasn't a crushing emotional weight on his shoulders. Also, he knew exactly what he was getting himself involved with this time. He'd tried to shelter himself when something similar had occurred, a mixture of mild paranoia and a lack of energy preventing him from leaving his house for weeks, but this time, he knew that he'd get drawn into whatever was to come, whether he liked it or not.
The Convention had been in session for much of the last three days, and Sciurus had reverted to his old role as observer. He didn't have the slightest idea about the military situation until it was pointed out to the general assemblage that Barras's forces were outnumbered 4 to 1. He had spent those days more as a listener than as a speaker, and found that this worked best for him, because he didn't want to speak about things he had no confidence in his ability to talk about - not at a time of crisis like this. It was better to let those in the know guide him along. It was difficult to take everything in, and he found that he had to take notes quite often, but he began to get a pawdle on the situation eventually.
The sun had set on the third day of the Convention's extended session - literally, not figuratively, as Barras was still trying to figure out what to do. It was obvious that he needed a plan, and one that had any chance of working would be even better. The situation wasn't entirely hopeless, at least from what the rodent could make of it, but even still, he had heard the royalists promise that the government would be brought to its knees and executed in a bloodbath before the 5th of October was done. Realistically, this meant that they had less than 24 hours, as the red squirrel reckoned that their enemies would seek to accomplish their goal as speedily and efficiently as possible. Sciurus was prepared to pick up a weapon - something he had not done in all 32 years of his life. He was prepared to fight, and to kill if necessary.
At least, he said he was - he'd have to find a way to follow through with the promises he had made to himself, because if he found himself in a kill-or-be-killed situation, there would be no other choice. He was deep in thought about what he could do... and then suddenly his reverie was shattered by a voice. He noticed Barras's pointing claw, and realised he was being directly spoken to. "Er, y-yes, I am, sir" he responded politely, standing up and listening as the binturong asked him to fetch his friend. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, he's at the theatre nearby, so it shouldn't take me too long to find him. I'll do that right away!" he exclaimed, noting the subtle urgency in Barras's voice. He may have been hiding it well, but it wasn't lost on Sciurus. It was no wonder that Barras felt that way in his current situation.
Fetching the brown coat and black scarf that he had taken to wearing recently, the rodent donned them, waving to Barras and the remaining delegates before hurrying out the door and down the stairs, racing out into the courtyard and heading in the direction of the playhouse. He knew that place well, having begun attending it regularly at the start of the year, on the advice of Anitha Gelippos, who had suggested that he needed an outlet that had nothing to do with his job; thus, the squirrel had become interested in theatre. He exited the gardens and strode purposefully toward the playhouse, quite sure that he would soon run into his best friend. He was right; he soon spotted the meerkat, and his pace quickened to a jog. There wasn't a moment to lose, and he was well aware of the dire situation they found themselves in.
He embraced his companion when they met, relief audible in his voice. "Oh, great seasons! There you are! I wasn't sure if you'd still be in the theatre, but if you had been, I would have had to get in there somehow and pull you away, because there's absolutely no reason why this has to wait. We need you at the Convention as soon as possible. Barras asked me to fetch you - he's looking for a second-in-command, a creature who's more experienced at field command than he is. We're both aware that the future of our republic depends on this, but there's something in it for you as well, mate" he informed his friend, beaming. "He wants you to serve in defence of the Republic..." Here, his voice rose. "... and has promised me that the Convention will restore you to the full rank of Brigadier General if you agree to his proposal! We really need you back there... I need you too. I've been in there for almost three whole days at this stage, and we only now have the beginnings of a plan. We might just make it work... but we can't do it without you. What do you reckon?" Sciurus enquired, wondering what his friend had to say in response.
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Post by Ladorak on Sept 27, 2012 0:20:43 GMT -5
Boneparte was caught by surprise by his friend's arrival, and he let out an "ooof!" as Sciurus embraced him. Yes... these were trying times, and Sciurus was definitely the touchy feely type, which was fine by Boneparte. "Sciurus... what on earth?" he asked, though didn't get a chance to finish as the squirrel began laying everything out for him.
"Wait... WHAT?" he asked, utterly shocked by the words playing out before him. They wanted HIM... and they'd restore him to his full rank as well? REALLY? But... as incredulous as it seemed, Boneparte knew it had to be true. It came from Sciurus after all, and opportunities like this came around only once in a lifetime. It was funny... Boneparte had been toying with the idea of simply defecting to the royalist cause but... that was the easy way out, and the cowards' road. No... there were greater things in store now. His eyes lit up, and he smiled decisively, nodding. He wasn't going to abandon the republic OR his friends in this dire time. Not a chance!
"Well let's not keep them waiting then! Come on!" he exclaimed, waving his arm and taking off at a run toward the Tuileries, his heart rate quickening until it was pounding in his chest, hammering away as his mind raced with a million thoughts. Was this really what he'd been waiting for? Did they have a chance of victory? How competent was Barras?
Those questions would soon be answered though as the two arrived at the Tuileries. Meerkat and squirrel threw the doors open, and huffing, Boneparte hurried over to the binturong and his aides. "Ah! General Lantzer... there you are!"
"Yes, Monsieur Barras! I heard the news! What's the story?"
"Well... here's the deal." the crafty binturong said. "We need a field commander... and..." He lowered his voice here and put an arm around Boneparte. "I DON'T know the slightest thing about these kinds of operations. I'm prepared to reinstate you and let you pawdle this... but I'm only giving you three minutes to decide. We don't have time to waste here... and I hate to force your paw, but desperate times, right?"
Boneparte was a bit take aback at this. Three minutes? That wasn't much time at all! The binturong was playing a game here... he wanted to force Boneparte into doing this one way or the other, but what the binturong wasn't expecting was Boneparte's willingness to walk right into this one. The one thing the meerkat didn't like however was that he knew NOTHING of what he was up against, and it was a convenient way to make HIM the scapegoat if things went wrong. He could immediately see that this was what Barras was aiming for.
But such doubts were for the timid and meek. If he failed... he'd be dead anyway, so it didn't matter. NOT accepting would be foolish as well, so there was only one thing to do. Damn you Barras... trying to trap me into a situation without first telling me all the details... but whatever. He could deal with that later. "I accept." he said, nodding firmly.
"You do?" Barras asked, and then smiled. "Very well... welcome back with us... General Lantzer." He emphasized the "General" part, and he shot a look around the room now. "Anyone here DISAGREE with Monsieur Lantzer being given his old rank back?" The binturong's stare was icy, and defied anyone to speak up.
Carnot was present, and though his eyes blazed with wrath as he regarded the meerkat, he made no motion to stand in Barras's way. Barras only smirked at him. Carnot had no alternatives after all, so he'd have to bow out on this one. "However!" This came from Boneparte, and all eyes turned to him.
"I have a few conditions of my OWN to put forward if I'm going to be Monsieur Barras's sword, tonight." Barras frowned, but nodded.
"Go ahead." the binturong said.
"First... NO interference from the politicians! I'm a military meerkat dammit, and too many times in this war have commanders been held back because the politicians wanted to exert their control and influence over the situation. Well I have news for you... you are POLITICIANS! NOT generals!" he said, his voice rising. "With all due respect to you... you do your jobs, and let me do mine, yes? You executed generals because they couldn't follow your complex and often times naive plans. You rule the country... WE run the military. There's a difference." he pointed out. "I don't mean to sound arrogant, but if you want me and all I can bring to the table... then NO interference. I want complete freedom of movement."
"We put those restraints on generals so they wouldn't act on their own to seize control of Rosferia!" one deputy pointed out.
"Yes... I understand that... but let's be realistic here. A few deputies aren't going to stop a general, and if a general really DID have designs on you, he'd have moved by now. Not only that, but the people of Rosferia would NEVER accept a military dictatorship! That's just something I refuse to believe they would do. I'm going to defend the republic, but I don't want some politician breathing down my neck every five minutes and telling me I'm 'wrong' or that I'm not doing it 'right' OK? You do a fantastic job at drafting up laws and running things smoothly... but PLEASE just let me do my job, OK? You have nothing to fear from me or anyone under me. I work for Paul Barras as you appointed and no other. I serve the republic. Believe me, if I supported the other side, I'd be there right now, and not standing here."
There were murmurs, but everyone had to admit that the meerkat had a point. He certainly wasn't with the opposition. Boneparte looked in Barras's direction now, the binturong chewing his lower lip again. "I think we can grant General Lantzer's request!" he said now. "There's no reason he needs to be controlled so thoroughly by the Convention! Besides, I'm sure he knows what he's doing!" On top of that, Barras was content to let Boneparte take charge. He was competent in this field, and it would make Barras look good if by some miracle they actually won. Barras had selected him after all, and he would seem all the wiser for doing so.
"Your condition is granted!" Barras said, patting the meerkat on the back and giving him a nod. "I personally do not care... though well played, General Lantzer." he muttered that last part, giving him a smirk.
"Good! Now! I need to know what I have and what I don't have. Artillery is the key here, gentlemammals! Do you recall the uprising that stormed these very halls three years ago?" As a matter of fact, Sciurus knew it very well, for he had been a part of the uprising in August of 1792. "The problem that Augustine had was that he lacked nerve... but not just nerve... he lacked artillery. NO artillery meant he couldn't control the streets." Boneparte strode over to the map now, and struck it with his paw. "We place guns along the major avenues of advance, and load them with canister and grapeshot. I guarantee you the rebels will be dispersed in a matter of several volleys!"
"Yes well... that's all fine and good but... we don't have any guns." Barras pointed out. "No artillery. We have 5,000 soldiers and... that's about it."
"I see... I assume you can throw out that whole 70,000 strong nonsense then?" Boneparte asked, scoffing.
"Yes... that too. We're 5,000... that's all. No guns. Just muskets and small arms."
"And where is General Menou?" Boneparte asked.
"Currently driving the rebels off... or so we ordered him to do. Turns out he's parleying with them instead." Barras said disgustedly.
"Parleying? I think we're well beyond that." the meerkat stated, blinking in disbelief. "I'm going to need to speak with him at the earliest opportunity..." Before he could finish, the doors opened again, and in strode the very person Boneparte had been referring to.
"What news?" Barras asked the National Guard commander.
"I bought us some time..." the portly badger general huffed. "Were you aware that Charles, the Comte d'Artois is AT Ile d'Yeu?" he asked, shaking his head. "The royalists are proclaiming him king, and promise to place him on the throne if they succeed. I tried talking with them... they promised to disperse... when it became clear they WEREN'T going to do that... I did the only thing I could. I gathered up what cavalry I had and charged down the Rue du Faubourg-Montmartre. I cleared them out of the streets and drove them back to Le Peletier but... I didn't stop them. Merely slowed them down."
"The Comte d'Artois?" Boneparte asked? Augustine's brother... he was at the Ile d'Yeu apparently. Must've been transported there by Welkin. This was a bit more serious than he first thought. But then again... it wasn't like Charles was HERE. He was just on some small island off Rosferia's coast. If this rebellion ended... he'd be going nowhere and would remain a Count of nothing.
"Well we don't want Charles or ANYONE as king." the meerkat murmured. "Who's the royalist commander? Do you know his name?"
"Called himself Danican." Menou replied.
"Danican... what can you tell me about him?" Boneparte asked.
"Um... former subordinate of mine in fact... well not ME but of the National Guard. He served in the Queen's Royal Police Force before the monarchy was overthrown, and then transferred to the National Guard once the Revolution broke out. He fought out in the Vendée for the past two years... and then resigned his commission this year, denouncing the Convention for the atrocities taking place out in the Vendée... he was probably a royalist sympathizer all along. I mean the QUEEN'S Guard?" Menou shook his head.
"Yes... certainly sounds like it... and what he's not saying is that the royalists were equally at fault for perpetrating atrocities out there. There were no "innocents" in the Vendée." the meerkat replied. "You're right... he was probably always a royalist sympathizer. General Menou..." Boneparte fixed him with his gaze. "I need your help. Are there ANY artillery parks or guns that you know of within the city limits for the National Guard?"
"Many of my troops are defecting, what are you..."
"FOCUS General Menou." Boneparte stamped his boot on the floor to get the badger's attention, and the portly fellow finally looked at him. "I need to know and I need to know now. It's drawing close to midnight, and I need answers. Is there artillery I can use?"
Menou seemed very conflicted over whether or not to answer, and then he finally broke down under the meerkat's gaze and nodded shakily. "Le P-Place des Sablons." he stammered. "Yes... out there... there's about 40 guns. Just northwest of the city."
"Yes, yes, I know the place. 40!?" the meerkat asked in disbelief. "Good! Now... to secure them... we're going to need horses..." Not to mention someone he could trust to secure them. Menou wouldn't do... he was too hedging as was. Boneparte suspected Menou might just as easily deliver those guns into the paws of the royalists as he would to the republic.
"The 21st Chasseurs are outside." Menou stated.
"They are?" Boneparte asked. "Good... Sciurus... if you will accompany me." The meerkat motioned for the squirrel to follow him, and strode for the doors now, his mind racing. He was demonstrating the ability to think on his paws and improvise, and he'd be damned if he'd be pawing over the Convention to the royalist scum, much less the Comte d'Artois. "Ahem... Sciurus... I can't trust anyone in there... except maybe Barras, but he wouldn't go. I trust you though. Would you mind perhaps riding along with the Chasseurs and making sure they don't... swing the other way?" he asked his friend.
"I know it's a tall order... are you armed?" he asked now, stopping to think for a moment. "If not, best do so. You may have to kill their commander, just in case. Take command yourself if you have to but GET ME THOSE GUNS." the meerkat emphasized. "We're going to need artillery in this upcoming fight. THAT'S why Augustine fell. I'm sure of it. He didn't make use of artillery. Can I trust you to do this, friend? Please?" he asked, taking the squirrel's arms in his paws now. "I can't trust anyone else, as said. Those guns need to reach the Tuileries. I don't think I need to tell you what will happen if we DON'T get them. It's our only real hope right now. 5,000 soldiers won't do the trick... but 5,000 soldiers backed up by artillery can and will have a fighting chance. Can you do this?" he asked again, searching his friend's eyes now with his own.
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Post by Carrow on Sept 28, 2012 11:05:06 GMT -5
Sciurus grinned, patting his friend on the back. "I knew you wouldn't pass up an opportunity like this!" he said brightly, accompanying the meerkat back into the Tuileries. They were soon in discussion with Barras, and while Sciurus was disappointed in the binturong for putting his companion on the spot in the manner that he did, he was relieved that this turn of events didn't change Boneparte's mind. He accepted, and the rodent once again broke out into a smile. He knew that there would be one creature here who would disagree rather vehemently with Boneparte's reinstatement if given the chance, but that particular mustelid could rot in hell for all Sciurus cared. After everything Carnot had put the meerkat - and by extension, Sciurus - through, he was getting what he richly deserved. He listened intently as they talked, not feeling like he wanted to interrupt to ask any questions; one certainly wouldn't have blamed him, but a rather vivid picture of the situation was being painted before his eyes.
The squirrel didn't need to be reminded of the uprising in August 1792, which had occurred more than three years ago at his point, but was so fresh in his mind that it could have only been yesterday that it had occurred. He hadn't been living in Cosnair for very long at all before he'd become involved in the Revolution, attending those sorely-missed Cordeliers Club meetings. He had never quite gotten a pawdle on things back then - he could freely admit that - but he missed those gatherings all the same... though more because of whom he attended them with rather than what they did. Back then, he had been rather unsure of himself, but now... maybe those pacifist ways of his weren't working anymore. He'd maintained them for almost 26 years, since tragic circumstances befell his parents in early 1770.
The way in which they had died was a closely-guarded secret of his. He'd lived for so long without anybeast to tell, that he couldn't muster up the strength to divulge that information, more out of habit than anything else. It had left him even more traumatised than the deaths of his would-have-been fiancée and best friends had two years ago. Now, though, he realised that perhaps it was time to put them aside. Augustine hadn't had control over the artillery, but the squirrel hadn't made use of any form of weapon during that uprising. He knew that he'd need to change his ways if he was to survive the next 24 hours. What he didn't know was that things would be taking an interesting turn for him on a personal level quite soon.
The rodent listened closely as Boneparte discussed the situation with General Menou - who had arrived moments previously - wondering if he was going to have a part to play in all this. He wanted to get out there and do his bit, whatever that entailed; laying low and keeping himself to himself, as he had done last time, was no longer a viable option. Besides, he wanted to be active, because he'd seen himself as ineffective for long enough that he'd eventually realised that it had been his own failure to become proactive that had held him back. His ears perked up as the name of the royalist commander was mentioned. He was trying to take stock of everything, including the fact that things had just escalated considerably with the news that the creature who would be king was nothing less than the brother of the leopard they had helped depose three years ago.
To say that the red squirrel was in optimum condition for activity like this wasn't exactly true; he hadn't been sleeping well recently, distressed by the situation Cosnair now found itself in. The fact that he wasn't able to get comfortable anywhere in the Tuileries had made things worse, of course, but he was just a little sleep-deprived. He was well able to cover it, and as midnight drew closer, he was definitely much more awake than he could ever remember being at this hour. He brightened up as the badger informed them that there was indeed a place for them to secure artillery northwest of Cosnair. Then, things started moving very quickly indeed as Boneparte asked him to accompany him. The squirrel felt the fur stand up on the back of his neck; it seemed that he was needed. For what, he was as yet unaware, but he didn't remain that way much longer.
He started trembling visibly as Boneparte outlined his plan, taken everything in in silence. He was being put on the spot by the meerkat; while he couldn't possibly say no to his best friend, he briefly wondered if he had the guts to go through with what he was being asked to do. Just as quickly as those thoughts had come into his mind, however, they passed. He relaxed slightly at his friend's touch, which helped to calm him a little.It was now or never... but he had something he wanted to say first. "You're right, it IS a tall order, but I can't put something like this off forever. I've carried a weapon before, but never used one. If it comes to that, I'll do so, because I have to put aside some of my principles now that everything that's important to me is being threatened by these upstarts."
"In hindsight, this was always going to happen at some stage - if not before the new government was sworn in, then after that. At least we're prepared, to some extent. If I didn't feel comfortable with this, you'd see me hesitating and being unable to make up my mind one way or the other. You don't, though. I've never been quite so sure about anything in my life! I'll do it!" he exclaimed, tail rising behind him. "I've never been asked to do anything like this before, and you'd better believe I'm nervous, as the outcome of all this essentially rests on whether or not I manage to procure those guns... but it's not about what I'm able or willing to do. It's about what I must do. I'll go with the Chasseurs and keep an eye on them - and don't worry about my being armed. I already have that taken care of, see."
The rodent removed a pistol from his back pocket, smiling a little. "I bought this when I felt I needed to protect myself against potential intruders. That was two years ago. I've never needed to use it - whether I would have been able to is a different matter entirely, but it's of no importance now. What does matter is that I'm ready to use it if I have to. I'll get you your guns" he said decisively, nodding. "If I have to deal with resistance, so be it - I'll see what I can do. I don't know if I'll succeed, but I'm sure as hell going to try!" the squirrel told his friend, finally breaking eye contact after staring into the meerkat's eyes for the last two minutes. That eye contact had helped to reassure him, and now he was as ready for his upcoming task as he would ever realistically be.
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Post by Ladorak on Sept 28, 2012 12:00:40 GMT -5
The gray-blue eyes of the meerkat were upon him, and Boneparte nodded as Sciurus gave him his affirmation. "Good! I knew I could count on you in this. You need to be as firm as you've ever been and more so!" the meerkat insisted. "You can't be soft here... everything we know and love is at stake. If the royalists win, this nation will be gripped with a bloody civil war. Rosferians will kill Rosferians, and our foreign enemies will take advantage of the situation. We FINALLY have a chance at a real democratic government! Let's NOT let the mob decide by violence whether or not we get to keep the Directory." Boneparte stated firmly.
"I refuse to abide a vocal minority's wishes to soak this nation in blood just so they can impose their will on the silent majority. No that's NOT how countries should be run! Fear, demagogues, and minority opinions should NOT dominate the day! The majority of Rosferia wants this, after all! Let's give it a chance!"
He finally broke eye contact, and moved to the doors of the palace, pushing them open and stepping outside into the front near the gardens. Outside, arrayed before them, were 260 horses and their riders, some of the mounts stamping and "digging" at the cobblestones beneath their hooves. Out in front was a dashing looking officer wearing a captain's uniform, though there were several accessories that weren't really regulation upon this creature's outfit. First off, he was bedecked in colorful green and red, which wasn't standard issue for cavalry officers. He also wore an enormous black ostrich feather in his hat, another accessory that wasn't regulation. He certainly cut a dandy figure though, the meerkat noted as Boneparte approached him.
Wow! That cavalry officer was of all things, a chinchilla! A larger, more robust relative of Sciurus's species, the chinchilla offered a salute as Boneparte and Sciurus strode up to him. "What's your name, Captain?" Boneparte asked.
"Murat, sir. Joachim Murat." the brawny chinchilla responded.
"You're a Gascon, are you not?" Boneparte asked, recognizing the accent almost immediately.
"Lot actually, though I have the Gascon accent. You were close, sir." Murat replied. "My home town is close enough to Gascony that you could say I'm just about everything but Gascon in name only."
"Aha! I thought I recongized it! I'm General Boneparte Lantzer, second to Paul Barras." the meerkat extended his paw, which the chinchilla took in a strong shake. "I'm in charge of organizing the capital defenses. Pleasure to meet you, Captain Joachim Murat. Listen... I'm going to need you to ride with my second here, Sciurus Whirlpaw." He introduced the squirrel now to Murat, who once more offered his paw. "Do you know the Place des Sablons?"
"I know it, sir." Murat replied, giving a single nod of his head, the black feather waving as he did so.
"Good! There are 40 artillery pieces there, and we need them HERE." Boneparte pointed to the very ground he was standing on. "As soon as you can get them, Captain. We have to anticipate that the royalists know about their existence as well, and may in fact be sending some of their own to secure the guns. You have my explicit permission to kill ANYONE who gets in your way of obtaining them, Captain Murat, are we clear?"
Murat merely nodded again, saluting as he did so. "Perfectly clear, General Lantzer, sir."
"Good. If the guards at the park resist, well... cut them down Captain. We don't have TIME to waste on useless back and forths with the opposition at this stage. Anyone NOT with us is clearly against us. If the guards refuse to turn over the guns to national government forces than they are CLEARLY committing treason and should be dealt with as such. I know it sounds harsh but... time is of the essence." the meerkat stated.
"Understood, sir. We'll get you those guns."
"Well Sciurus..." Boneparte turned to face his friend now. "Go with Captain Murat. Hasten back as quick as you're able... I don't want to be without you for TOO long, after all." he said, offering the squirrel a smile here. "Get me those guns... and..." he moved in close to the rodent now. "Just remember what we talked about in addition to what I need you to do." he murmured. "Keep a close eye on things, just in case. Murat seems like he's on the level... but just be wary at all times of everything around you."
"Lieutenant!" Murat called out. "Fetch General Lantzer's adjutant a horse! Now!" he ordered. The lieutenant dismounted, saluted, and ran to get a spare horse from the palace stables. He returned within a minute, leading the horse by the reins.
Boneparte gave the squirrel a pat on the back, and helped him onto his mount. "I'll be here, organizing the troops into a cordon and erecting barricades. I'll have some of my soldiers keep a sharp lookout for your return." he reassured Sciurus. "Godspeed!"
"Let's go, boys! Yah!" Murat called out, and spurred his horse into a canter, the rest of the company following suit. The 21st Chasseurs began riding off into the night, taking the northern boulevards through Cosnair's heart, but heading of course for the outskirts and toward the Place des Sablons.
"We're going to have to turn west here soon. Le Peletier is up ahead of us, and we DON'T want to be riding through that section right now." Murat stated to Sciurus as he rode beside him. "There are also reports that the royalists are sending some of their numbers to the other side of the Seine... it looks as if they want to attack from both sides of the river. Fortunately, your General Lantzer has an excellent defensive position... he just needs the guns to back it up."
They conducted their turn to the west after riding north only a few blocks, skirting the royalist held section of the city and proceeding along their way. "So what's your story, Monsieur Whirlpaw?" Murat asked. "You don't seem like Rosferian military to me. Some... special assistant to the General, perhaps?" the chinchilla enquired.
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Post by Carrow on Oct 3, 2012 10:18:46 GMT -5
"I understand the gravity of the situation, mate" Sciurus murmured, smiling. "We have to keep things the way they are. It's like things were a few years ago, only now the shoe's on the other footpaw. The royalists are now the ones in the minority who aren't bothered about simply making their voices heard; they will commit acts of violence and do whatever needs to be done to get their way. I recall we found ourselves in a similar situation in 1792" he said with a wry smile. "Only we now have a definite swell of popular support behind us, and now it is we who must fend off an uprising. I know I have to be firm, so firm is what I am going to strive to be. We don't have the numbers on our side, but we at least have a plan that has some chance of working. Best of all, we have you. You've already shown yourself to be an excellent commander, and I shall certainly enjoy serving under you!"
The squirrel turned to address the others, clearing his throat before speaking again. "I know I may not have had much chance to prove myself in the past, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stand idly by and watch as our proud nation is soaked in the blood of those who worked to free it from the shackles of monarchical rule. If we should die tonight, then we die in the service of our country, with far more to be proud of than those who would seek to set it back decades with their plan to unleash bloodshed. I've never been more proud of you than I am tonight, and that goes for everybeast else, too - including those 5,000 soldiers. They may not be enough, but if this plan ends up working, then the odds may just turn in our favour. We have no other choice, other than surrender, and every creature standing in this room knows that that is just NOT a viable option. We need to strike a blow for our prolonged freedom, my friends, and we're damn well going to try!"
He nodded at Boneparte, having said his piece, and the two companions opened the doors and stepped outside. Boneparte didn't yet realise the extent to which Sciurus's spirited side had been awakened. He'd seen it before, of course, when the hated Carnot had been the subject of his ire, but tonight was different. Sciurus looked different, and he felt different too, more confident in himself than he had been... well, ever since he had come to Cosnair. He was introduced to Captain Murat, surprised to find that he was conversing with a chinchilla. He hadn't seen many of those in his time, and shook his fellow rodent's paw heartily when it was offered to him. "Pleased to meet you, sir!" he exclaimed, smiling at Murat before settling down to listen as the meerkat General talked him through the present situation. He nodded decisively when told that any guards who resisted should be dealt with as creatures who had committed treason.
He had never fired a pistol before, but he knew that he had to steel himself for what was to come. Some self-hypnosis beforepaw would surely have helped, but there had been no time for that. Instead, he would just have to try his hardest to keep his nerve. They would indeed get Boneparte those guns, and Sciurus was prepared (at least in theory) to broke those promises he had made to himself all those years ago. His pacifism still served a purpose, certainly, but not tonight. He nodded as Boneparte gave him his instructions, tufted ears twitching as the meerkat moved in close and advised him to keep an eye on the chinchilla, as well as everything else going on around him, just in case. Political allegiances could change in the blink of an eye. "Yes sir" he responded, smiling back at his friend and throwing a salute. For tonight at least, the meerkat was his superior, and the rodent wanted to treat him as such.
He waited patiently as a horse was fetched for him, and he was helped onto it by Boneparte. He greatly appreciated the pat on the back; he'd never ridden a horse before, so was trying his utmost to keep his nerves at bay, but his friend's presence was helping to reassure him greatly. "I'll be back here as soon as I can, you'll get those guns, and we'll make sure that it's a fairer fight!" he promised. They'll have the numbers, but we'll have the artillery, so that'll make things interesting." He nodded as the meerkat wished him godspeed, and was smiling as Murat got things underway. The squirrel spurred his own horse into a canter, and they were off. The sensation of riding a horse took a little getting used to for the rodent, especially because of his diminutive stature, but he soon got into the swing of things, and as that happened, he listened to Murat outline things for him.
"OK, we want to avoid Le Peletier, for obvious reasons. Got it. No sense in getting ourselves tangled up in any of that right now, sir. I understand." He nodded as the chinchilla told him about the reports, frowning a little in thought. Now, it seemed that obtaining those guns was absolutely paramount - not that it hadn't been before, but the royalists were employing a different strategy now, one that would be more difficult to deal with if the artillery wasn't obtained. He shook his head as he was asked if he was a special assistant to Boneparte. "For tonight, I am, I suppose, but I'm really just his friend. He's asked me to help out tonight, and I'm just doing what I can to assist him. Even if he hadn't asked me, I probably would have volunteered anyway, because I just want to do my bit. I'm not Rosferian military, no - I'm a member of the Convention, for a few more days at least. My main job is that of a hypnotherapist. I run a parlour from home; it's on the Rue de la Frontière, about 10 minutes' walk from the Tuileries, about about half that on horseback, I would imagine" he quipped, chuckling. "I'm just along for the ride, really - well, literally in this case! I'm looking to help out wherever I can, that's all."
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Post by Ladorak on Oct 3, 2012 13:26:52 GMT -5
Boneparte had to admit that he'd been very impressed with Sciurus's speech before they'd left the Tuileries. He knew full well what was at stake, and though the Convention had sworn off surrender, the speech was still impressive all the same, and really showed a new side to the squirrel that the meerkat wasn't used to seeing.
The meerkat knew full well what they were dealing with. An armed mob, so armed because the Convention had been using royalists to hunt down Jacobins as part of their White Terror (and admitting them into the ranks of the National Guard), and now it was coming back to haunt them. Menou himself was a Baron, and hence his old aristocratic upbringing inclined him more to the royalist camp. His two subordinates had left him on his own tonight... one had called in sick, and the other had failed to move. It had only given heart to the royalists, who had been in the streets all throughout the 3rd haranguing passersby and trampling on the tricolor cockades whilst felling liberty trees throughout the city.
If there was one thing Boneparte hated, it was mob violence and anarchy. He really didn't want to see Rosferia slip into chaos when it was on the verge of getting a new government, and thus he was making his stand, getting a feel for things, and starting to arrange the 5,000 troops he did have around the Tuileries and gardens in a protective cordon. The Louvre and Tuileries itself was a formidable fortress, a big square palace smack in the middle of the city. While exposed, it also offered a good defensive position.
The night was overcast as the 21st Chasseurs rode on into the dark. It had rained in Cosnair for most of the 4th, and it looked like the rain could return before the night was out. Rain might prove to be a good thing though. It kept both bystanders and rioters indoors, and there was a real chance that Danican might rethink his attack until after the rain had abated; the republic could only hope for such luck.
Murat's cantering horses clopped their hooves on the stones as they skirted around the seven sections of Cosnair that were currently in open rebellion and headed for the city outskirts. They'd need to pass through the old walls and out to the old sand quarries on the banks of the Seine. It was there that the National Guard was keeping the artillery.
Murat nodded at the squirrel's explanation. "Ah... a respresentative from the Convetion... of course." he said, pursing his lips. He was used to this kind of thing though. The Convention always had to keep an eye on its commanders, though this wasn't entirely the reason Sciurus was out either. The chinchilla glanced over at Sciurus. "Not that you should get the wrong idea about that. I'm fine with it. All the same, it's good to work with you." he said, urging his horse forward a little as they rode on into the dark night. Already Murat had been impressed by Boneparte's decisive manner, and the meerkat certainly seemed a good deal more competent than Menou.
Exiting the city via one of the gates, the cavalry made its way to the Place des Sablons, a region that was enclosed by earthworks and a stockade in the middle of which rested the 40 artillery pieces Boneparte required. Ironically enough, as they were galloping up, about 100 creatures put in an appearance, coming down a side road. They were dressed in the uniforms of the National Guard, and Murat reined in his horse and called his company to slow to a trot as they moved to get in front of the Guard.
"Don't know if they're on our side or not..." Murat murmured.
"You there! Squirrel! Chinchilla!" came the call from the National Guard. "What are you doing here?"
"Collecting these guns for the Convention, what are YOU doing here?" Murat replied.
"Gathering these guns for General Danican! Clear out horse riders! Crawl back to your holes! We're taking these guns for the Comte d'Artois!"
Murat rode forward now, and narrowed his eyes as he drew his saber. "Enough! Look around you! You're outnumbered by my troopers more than two to one! I don't fear you! Come at me then! We'll cut every last one of you down and dump your remains into the Seine! Begone rebels, before I change my mind!" The rest of his cavalry moved forward as well, paws on their sabers, fire in their eyes.
"You really think you can win?" Murat continued. "We've got twice your numbers, and you have only one shot apiece among you with those rifles. Once you fire those shots... that's it. My troopers will be upon you before you can reload and our sabers will be slicing you to ribbons. Think very carefully about your next move." he challenged in a booming voice.
This seemed to faze the Guardsbeasts, who began murmuring amongst each other and giving nervous glances in the direction of the cavalry.
"Ten seconds." Murat said. "Nine... eight... seven..."
"All right!" the opposing leader called out. "All right! We'll leave you to it then.. but we'll be back! We'll be back with more of us! You'd better hope you get those guns out of there before we return!"
"Oh rest assured we shall..." Murat replied in a low voice, eyes still narrrowed. He turned his horse around as the National Guard about faced and began moving away, and the chinchilla ordered pickets to be sent out to sweep the perimeter of the stockade.
Riding up to the guards at the entrance, the chinchilla gave them a dark look. "Move aside or be killed. We're taking these guns for the Convention on orders of General Lantzer, representing Monsieur Paul Barras. Any attempt at interference will be met with deadly force."
The guards didn't need to think twice about this one, and promptly got out of Murat's way. "OK! Listen up! I need several squads! Move into the surrounding countryside! Get horses, carts, and wagons! We're gonna need to move these guns, and we only have a short amount of time in which to do so! Beg, borrow, and steal! We'll return whatever we take to the citizens after this over, but get your paws on anything with wheels anyway you can! We'll move in teams! I want these guns escorted at all times once we reach the streets of Cosnair! Let's move!" he ordered, shouting his orders out as he rode his horse around in a small circle. "Lieutenants have command of your squads as a reminder!"
He rode back to Sciurus, and stopped his horse just short of the squirrel's as he sheathed his blade with a hiss. "Glad that went well, representative Whirlpaw. Feel like helping any? If you know this area, feel free to scrounge up whatever you can. We're going to need every horse and cart within five miles of here, as the guns can't be moved unless attached to some form of wagon, as you're probably aware." he pointed out.
"If we can get around... twenty or so, I figure we'll be in good business, as that way we can move in shifts. I can send half my troopers into the city with half the guns, then have them return and we can move the rest in full strength." he explained.
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Post by Carrow on Oct 8, 2012 15:53:38 GMT -5
"It's a little more than that, as you know - in fact, I've only been involved in the Convention for six weeks. I was before, and served on it for a time after its formation, but I sometimes felt overwhelmed, and I had to quit entirely for the good of my health after the devastating impact Dragonis's Reign of Terror had on my life. I came back to give it another go on Boneparte's advice, actually, as well as that of a few others, who all said I should use my chance to become more politically active. Of course, something like this was not entirely what I had in mind" Sciurus quipped, chuckling as they continued on their way. "It's something entirely new and different for me. I've been involved in protests and marches before, but never anything coming close to this kind of scale. It's exciting, in a way, isn't it?" the squirrel asked the chinchilla.
"We've never really been called on to defend our country in this manner, certainly not on home soil. Overthrowing Dragonis was something different from what we could be facing here tonight. I completely understand that this could end up as nothing less than a bloodbath depending on how certain elements play out - say, if the royalists decide to attack from both sides of the Seine - but we have to give it our all nonetheless." He smiled and shook his head as his fellow rodent told him that he shouldn't be getting the wrong idea about his earlier comment. "Oh, that's fine. I hope you don't feel as though I've been sent along to watch over you or anything; indeed, you and your comrades are the ones with the experience here" he pointed out. "My primary purpose is not to oversee but to assist. I've been told to get those guns, and that's all I plan to do" he assured him, still smiling.
The rodent felt the fur on the back of his neck rise as he spotted the hundred or so members of the National Guard, slowing his horse. His cautious side was out, even if he didn't feel the need to reach for his pistol just yet. He'd have to wait to see how this exchange went. As it was, the National Guard stopped them first. Despite the fact that he had just been directly addressed, the squirrel was going to let the chinchilla pawdle this. It soon became clear that this century of creatures had sided with Danican, and the rodent, knowing that it would be better to be safe than sorry, withdrew his pistol. As it was, those rebels were both outnumbered and outgunned. Only a fool would attempt resistance in a situation like this - by his own admission, Sciurus didn't know a whole lot about these matters, but he knew that much.
Murat then gave the rebels ten seconds to stand aside, and they did - quite wisely so, in the squirrel's opinion. He wasn't thinking about their promised return, nor the fact that they would have reinforcements. He was focused on one thing and one thing only: doing his part to get the guns. He resumed riding, and soon, with the right amount of coercion from Murat, the guards at the entrance to the stockade had moved out of the way and allowed them to enter. There was a surprisingly eager expression on Sciurus's features as he followed the rest of them into the stockade - he was getting a thrill out of this, that much was clear.
He listened as Murat gave his next set of instructions, nodding decisively. Now that he knew what exactly needed to be done, he definitely wanted to lend a paw with the physical side of things. He didn't look it, but he was strong enough for that; certainly not as much as some of the other creatures he had seen in the Chausseurs, but he wasn't useless when it came to work like this either. He stopped his horse, grateful for the small break. This was only his first time riding a horse, but he was doing a much better job of it than he had expected. So far, things were more or less going to plan for him. He saw Murat approaching him on his steed, so waited to hear what the chinchilla had to say before doing anything else.
He outlined the situation for the rodent clearly, and when he was finished, Sciurus nodded again. "Of course I'll help out. I happen to know this area rather well, so that'll come in useful. I'll go get one right away, sir" he told Murat gently. "Indeed, the guns can't be moved otherwise, though I hardly thought we were all going to be moving them with our own paws." He chuckled, smiling and swishing his tail in an eager manner. "Twenty, you say? I can't imagine that being much of a problem for a group this size" he remarked. "I'll be back here as soon as I can with a horse and cart" he promised the chinchilla, before moving off and starting his search.
The rodent hadn't gotten too far before he arrived at a likely spot. A quick check revealed that the house's occupant did indeed have a horse and cart. He dismounted from his own horse, preferring to go down the honest route with this creature, whomever they may be. Murat had said 'beg, borrow or steal', but there was only one of those he felt like doing. He didn't want to debase himself, and he couldn't in all good conscience resort to thievery. He just hoped things would go according to plan. Striding up to the front of the house, doing his best to look energetic despite the paltry amount of sleep he was running on, he knocked on the door, and patiently awaited the response of the creature who lived inside.
As it turned out, he was in for quite a shock. The door was answered by one of the most attractive females of his species that the squirrel had ever seen, and she appeared to be in a good deal of distress. It showed in the worried look that she had on her face, but she composed herself as she met the stranger's gaze with her hazel eyes. "May I help you?" she asked softly, wondering what all of this was about. The fact that there was a horse out front, coupled with never having seen this creature before, meant that the other squirrel had surely come with a purpose. She and Sciurus were rather alike, though neither of them knew it yet. However, she looked different from him - red squirrels had been in the minority in Mossflower, and Sciurus had seen plenty of greys in his time. Here was one, and her bright and glossy fur was dazzling and surprisingly sleek-looking.
He was awestruck by her appearance, and likewise, had to take a moment to get a hold of himself, clearing his throat. She looked like she was around his age. "Excuse me, ma'am. You know not who I am, but I would greatly appreciate it if I were to be granted access to your horse and cart. You see, whilst not being Rosferian military myself, I am involved in the fight against the Royalist rebels. We need as many horses and carts as we can find around here, as we need to secure artillery before the rebels have an opportunity to do so. Time is of the essence, ma'am" he stressed, smiling despite the gravity of the situation. "I'm sure that I would be able to find a way to pay you back, of course - I believe in favours for favours."
The grey squirrel nodded readily, stepping outside and closing the door. "That's very kind of you! I will certainly allow you to use it for a time - of course, I expect that you return it when you're done, as I would find myself quite cut off if something happened to my horse. Especially with all the unrest that's been going on - I've been kept from going anywhere for three days! My supplies are almost gone, and I can't replenish them because it is just TOO dangerous to be out on one's own. I need more food to eat, certainly, but it's not exactly worth being injured or even killed over, is it?" She shook her head, tail twitching anxiously. "I'm Caroline Stavanis. Pleased to meet you!" she exclaimed, offering the squirrel her paw.
"Sciurus Whirlpaw, and believe me, the pleasure's all mine" the red squirrel responded. "There'll be more time for this later, but right now, I'm needed back at the stockade!" he told her as she led him to the horse and cart. "Do you want to help out, ma'am? I know that's a slightly unusual suggestion, but we could use an extra pair of paws - every one helps, after all, especially in a situation like this. I would understand if you didn't want to get involved... and... well... I'd never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you..." he admitted, his red fur turning crimson as he blushed furiously, unable to help himself.
She held up a paw, silencing him with a smile. "I know it'd be unusual for me to get involved in something that, too, but as much as I'd like to, I'm not sure how effective I would be. If I got any odd looks because I'd essentially asked to be involved in a military exercise, that would be fine; it's something I can deal with. I would just be unsure how to conduct myself in a situation such as this - no doubt my help would be appreciated, but I'm unsure whether I would be able to rise to the challenge. I'm sorry if this is disappointing to you, sir, but I'm staying put. I do hope I'll see you again at some stage, though" she told him, batting her eyelashes at him suggestively, and Sciurus blushed again.
"I understand perfectly. If you don't want to get involved in the fighting, that's just fine - I normally wouldn't go near anything like this myself" the squirrel admitted, "but every once in a while comes something like this, with possible consequences so grave that we must do all in our power to prevent it from succeeding. If this Royalist uprising succeeds, everything about our lives will change. For one thing, mine will be ended quite swiftly - as a member of the National Convention, I and my fellow delegates will be the first to go if they come out victorious. We can't let that happen! Do you desire that Rosferia remain free from monarchical rule?" he asked Caroline, to which she nodded. He grinned, clapping his paws. "Right! Let's get to it!"
He mounted the horse, giving her a wide smile. "You should know that this is only the second time I've ever ridden a horse, so I hope the ride's not too bumpy for you! Yah!" he exclaimed, spurring the horse into before riding back to Murat and company, at a slightly more sedate pace this time, as he was aware of the cart he was bringing with him - he had hoped he'd be bringing Caroline back with him too, but there would be other times He soon arrived back, slowing his horse to a trot as he approached the chinchilla, saluting him. "Here's your horse and cart, sir, as you requested!" he said with a grin. That wasn't all he'd found, but now wasn't the time.
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Post by Ladorak on Oct 10, 2012 9:41:31 GMT -5
Murat was conducting the operations with ease, hooking up guns to the carts as they arrived. Once 20 had been secured, he sent those rumbling off toward Cosnair, and directed the hitching of the others as they trickled in.
The night was very dark, and completely overcast, with peals of thunder sounding out in the distance. LIghtning flashes could be seen within the clouds as well, and before long, rain was falling once more. It had been a very wet day yesterday, and it looked as if today promised much of the same.
The brawny chinchilla greeted Sciurus as he arrived back with the cart, giving him a nod and having a few of his troopers affix the cart to one of the guns. "Good! We're moving along here. I doubt those National Guard boys will be able to organize themselves in time before we depart with our prizes. I recommend marking that cart with some identifying symbol if you wish to return it." Murat suggested. "Provided of course it DOES survive... but if it doesn't, we'll probably be dead as well, so I suppose you won't have to worry about that." Murat shrugged. He seemed very nonchalant about the whole thing though. He didn't seem as if he expected death, and felt fully sure that they were going to triumph over their enemies, despite the long odds.
Around 3:30 AM the troopers that had hauled the first load were back with their carts, and the only thing remaining was to attach the rest of the guns and start moving back into the city. Murat never looked back as he rode off into the rainy night, and sure enough, there was no reason to. The National Guard had thankfully not put in any further appearances, and the rain in fact was mostly likely keeping most beasts indoors.
Around 6:00 Murat and his troopers arrived back at the Tuileries, much to Boneparte's delight. The meerkat hadn't seen Sciurus arrive with the first batch of guns, but then again Murat hadn't been seen either. Seeing everyone in the 21st Chasseurs show up however was a relief, and the General strode forward to greet their return. Things had gone well, and Murat had proven trustworthy after all.
Boneparte had not been idle himself in the six hours since Murat had ridden off. The meerkat had been hard at work erecting barricades and positioning his troops and the guns that had arrived. He had five main batteries: three sweeping the streets north of the Tuileries, and two commanding the Pont Royal and Pont Augustine XVI across the Seine. The Pont Neuf had been taken by the royalists earlier in the day, and there was nothing he could do about that. Fortunately though, attackers would have to move along the waterfront street in between the Seine and Louvre, and Boneparte planned to take advantage of the narrow front to position troops and one gun to create a killing zone.
Boneparte knew that the dawn was the most dangerous time. As daylight struggled to penetrate through the gray sheets of clouds overhead, the meerkat fully expected an attack. Such an attack would catch them completely unprepared, as they were still in the middle of sighting the guns and throwing up the barricades.
But one hour passed, and then two... and then three. 9 AM came around and STILL no sign of an attack. Boneparte was everywhere at once, walking up and down the lines, sighting guns, encouraging the troops, and telling them to hold their ground. He was no fool... he knew and expected that once the rain stopped, the royalists would move. At the same time though, he considered Danican quite the fool for not taking advantage of the Army of the Interior's unpreparedness. Had he attacked right away he would've won... but it seemed the royalists didn't like the rain.
By 9:00 all was ready at the Tuileries. Daughters and wives had joined their husbands and fathers in the Convention, setting up a makeshift hospital within to tend for the casualties which would surely develop. Some of the best surgeons in the city showed up as well throughout the night, offering their services in running this "hospital" until the fighting ended. The Conventional deputies had all armed themselves, and not a single one deserted the Tuileries for home. All determined to die if need be. One could say many negative things about the Convention, but accusing them of cowardice just wouldn't stick. They were all prepared to fight and die for the new constitution.
Barras had opened up the prisons, and had released many of the Jacobins that had been awaiting execution. With promises of amnesty, Barras had armed them and formed them into a reserve "Brigade of Patriots", as the one thing the Jacobins hated more than the current government was of course royalists. They all eagerly agreed to serve on the front lines in putting down this revolt. That gave the Army of the Interior an additional 1,500 "soldiers", though they were still outnumbered by their opponents.
Boneparte set the Jacobins up along the narrow waterfront street that led to the Pont Neuf. He figured the Jacobins would certainly be eager to pour their fire into this "fish in a barrel" situation he was creating along that street.
Boneparte had also been assisted by another of Barras's "lieutenants" that had been appointed so on the spot, a very well read black-footed ferret named Guillaume Brune. Sciurus probably knew this individual from his days at the Cordeliers Club, as both had been members, and Brune had been another close friend of Otto Kurtz's. The black-footed ferret had literary aspirations before the Revolution, and had been a political journalist before enlisting like so many of his fellow countrybeasts in 1793 when war broke out. Due to his political connections, he had been quickly made a General, but had not actually commanded troops in the field before. Hence, Boneparte easily came to dominate the proceedings between himself and Brune, and Brune was only too happy to defer to him once it became clear which of the Generals knew what he was talking about. As it was, Brune made for a good organizer, and Boneparte recognized there was competence behind that facial "mask", which simply had to be nurtured by field experience.
The day passed by, grinding away as the seconds ticked into minutes, and those ticked into hours. The rain would not abate, and continued falling rather heavily at times. The troops sheltered themselves as best they could, pulling their jackets up over their heads, or else just sitting around taking it. The tension was indescribable, and so taut that a knife would've snapped it just by simply touching it.
Everyone had their nerves. The soldiers all stood by their posts, waiting for the inevitable. While some hoped that the royalists would give up, none really thought that was going to occur. To relieve the tension, the soldiers stood chatting in groups, or playing cards under their coats. Almost all kept a wary eye on the streets and rooftops.
One particular place of interest for Boneparte was the St. Roch Cathedral. It's towering facade would make a good spot for sharpshooters, and he correspondingly aimed one of the guns at the roof of the cathedral, knowing his 8 pounder would outgun a sharpshooter any day.
To keep their morale up, Boneparte made hourly rounds, walking throughout the lines and clapping the soldiers on the back, urging them to stick around and stand by their posts. This was it: the defining battle for the republic was upon them.
Menou had subsequently been placed under arrest for treason, though the meerkat was determined to help the badger any way he could after this was over, for the badger was no more guilty of treason than the Conventional deputies were who followed him around and gave him those faulty orders. Menou may have been an incompetent commander, but he didn't deserve death for proving so instrumental in relating the information about the guns to Boneparte. He knew the Convention was just looking for a scapegoat, and Menou was it.
As the morning turned into afternoon, Boneparte could easily say this was the longest wait that he'd ever endured for anything. This wasn't his first battle, but never before had he experienced anticipation like this. Not even the night before they stormed the Welkinite defenses at Toulon had he felt close to what he was feeling now. He was nervous as he knew there was an onus to this. Either way, he wouldn't look COMPLETELY good even if they won. He was still killing fellow Rosferians after all, traitors or not, and that had been something he'd always wanted to avoid. He'd get some bad press, of that he was certain, but overall he felt the laurels would outweigh the stain, regardless of whether they won or lost.
It was such a different feeling than getting ready to kill Welkinites and Ferlusanians or Kostritzers. It was just... different. These were his countrybeasts. They shared a violently different opinion from his own, but they were still countrybeasts. Civil war was always the worst thing that could grip a nation... but if he won here today... he truly believed the civil war would sputter out and die. If the royalists succeeded, that would only create further bloodbaths. The Army of the North and the Army of the West would most likely be recalled to deal with the situation in the capital, and the Vendee would most likely rise in revolt once more to block the Army of the West (as the Chouans had proven time and time again they did not respect peace treaties). It would just lead to greater killing throughout Rosferia, so best to just get it over and done with here in the capital to show the rest of the royalists that they truly didn't stand a chance and they should abandon this ridiculous notion of bloodily overthrowing the republic.
The bells rang 4:00 in the afternoon as Boneparte made another round of his lines. The clouds looked thinner now... the rain was coming down with less force. It didn't bode well for things... it meant the royalists were probably on the move as well. The sky was brighter behind the thinning gray veil, and Boneparte moved a bit faster this time, his steps carrying him over the cobblestones with more purpose. He left Brune and Murat to watch the northern flank while he strode south, checking along the Seine and making sure everything was still in position down there.
In ten minutes he was beside Sciurus, rubbing his white gloved paws in the cold, dreary afternoon. "I think the rain's gonna let up soon." the meerkat told the squirrel. "I think it's stopping. What do you think?" he asked. "Hard to believe it's been almost TWELVE hours since the last of the guns arrived... I guess Danican really doesn't like the rain. Afraid he'll get washed away, maybe." he joked, trying to relieve the tension.
"How have you been holding up? Nervous? Calm? Somewhere in between?" he inquired, looking over at his rodent companion now.
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Post by Carrow on Oct 16, 2012 17:59:43 GMT -5
Sciurus nodded at Murat, smiling at the chinchilla, taking heart from his nonchalant attitude to the whole thing. Here was an experienced creature who didn't seem overly worried about proceedings, and the red squirrel took that to mean that he was wasting his time getting stressed out over things. It was a very tense situation for him even now, but there was nothing that he could do for the moment. "Yes, we do seem to be mindful of time being of the essence in an operation like this. I came back as quickly as I could, and I have to say I'm rather pleased with how things are going so far." He nodded as Murat suggested that he mark the cart with an identifying symbol. "I'll do that, sure. Give me a moment, would you?"
Smiling, he thought briefly about what sort of symbol he would like to mark the cart with, and then brightened up, snapping his claws, marking the cart with a recognisable spiral symbol - the same size and shape as his birthmark. He stepped back, still smiling. "There we go. Now, as for that nonchalant attitude of yours, sir" he said to the chinchilla, shaking his head in surprise, "that's the right way to be. We don't seem to have much control over how things will go right now - whatever happens will happen, I suppose - we've done all we can, and now we'll just have to see what comes next. We could be attacked in one hour or 10, so all we can do is be prepared. I'm going to keep myself busy in any case" he said decisively, nodding.
The red squirrel was certain that he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight; it wasn't that he was overly nervous about things, because he knew that that was essentially pointless, but even still, it was now dawning on him how high the stakes currently were, and as the moments ticked by, they would become higher still. Whatever happened in the next while would mark a turning point in Cosnair's - and even Rosferia's - history, and the rodent was learning to deal with that as best he could. He was running on very little sleep, but he knew that there was nothing for it other than to keep himself occupied. He did his best when he was busiest, or so he had discovered.
By 3.30, however, it was clear that he was flagging, having gone from not feeling at all tired to having exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks. He didn't stand a chance of having his wits about him in the morning if he let this go any further without any rest, and with the chances of a night attack having greatly diminished thanks to the rain, Sciurus decided that there was nothing he needed more than an hour or two of sleep. He realised that that might be all that he got, but he was running on empty and in danger of hurting himself if he didn't wind down for a while, so he settled down and slept. It wasn't very comfortable sleeping on the hard ground, but his exhausted body wasn't about to complain.
He was gently awoken by Murat, and they rode back to the Tuileries with the rest of the Chasseurs, arriving around 6am and wearily greeting Boneparte before heading indoors.Once they had gotten back into the Convention, the rodent took another two-hour nap. He had realised that dawn would have been the most opportune time for the Royalists to strike, but he wasn't able to keep his eyes from closing once he had returned and gotten settled, the riding having taken it out of him. His sleep ended up being fractured as it was, but he had to take what he could get, as he didn't want his body to burn out.
The previous few days had all needed bursts of extremely high activity and productivity from him, and he was trying to keep it all from catching up with him for a while longer. The squirrel was once again awake by 8am, and he now felt sufficiently recharged to carry on with his activities. He was quite hungry, though, and needed to eat something to keep his strength up. He ventured out into the streets, wondering if he could even buy some bread with which to stave off his hunger. He had soon finished off a small baguette, and with his hunger somewhat sated, returned to the Tuileries to find his meerkat companion doing his rounds. He was impressed by Boneparte's seeming omnipresence; he was proving to be a dab paw at multitasking.
Things were mostly all sorted out at the Tuileries by the time the rodent returned. His protective instincts won out, and he decided to busy himself with becoming involved in the running of the makeshift hospital. For a while, he alternated between doing that and catching quick naps for himself. His pistol never left his pocket during all this time; it seemed that the rain was proving to be an effective deterrent against an attack. He had also noted Brune's presence by this time, and was quite glad to see the black-footed ferret again. He had happy memories of his time spent in the Cordeliers Club, and even if there was still a twinge of sadness within him when he thought of those times, it had largely ceased to trouble him.
Time's relentless march continued, seconds turning into minutes, and those into hours. The wait was almost interminable, and Sciurus found that he simply had to keep busy; otherwise, he might possibly have been overwhelmed by the tension. Simply put, it was like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. The waiting was always the hardest part, but no matter how he tried to put it out of his mind, the sense that time was dragging started to get to him by the time that 4pm rolled around. He noted anxiously that the rain was finally beginning to let up. The squirrel was soaked, so he was thankful to see it abating, in one sense, but viewed it with trepidation for another reason. There was no way that the Royalists would pass up a chance to move now that the heavens had ceased their downpour.
Shortly thereafter, Boneparte arrived by his side, and the shivering squirrel nodded when asked if the rain was going to let up. "It certainly looks like it, yes. I need a reprieve from it; I look more like a drowned rat than a squirrel right now" he quipped, making his own effort to relieve the tension. "12 hours... yes, on one paw, it's rather difficult to comprehend, but on the other, it does seem like we've been here forever" he responded, chuckling at his companion's joke. When asked how he was holding up, the rodent sighed a little. "More tired than anything else, really. I've been catching some rest whenever possible, but it's been piecemeal at best. I'm a little nervous, but that's mostly because all this waiting has started to unnerve me a tad. I just can't stand it much longer. Have you ever experienced anything quite like that?" he enquired. "Oh, and I've noticed you've been rather busy today - good work!" the squirrel complimented his friend.
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