(( General Silk,
I just felt like doing a story review, since you had a story army.
So... hopefully my comments will make some sense. It can be a bit trickey to swap rules into world-speak. Also, sorry about the wall-o-text that this may look to be.
Anyway, hope you like it. ))
War… war never changes. For the countless time, Krueger pondered what he was doing here. It was the beginning of summer, and, in the reikbelt, that meant hot, sweltering, boiling, suffocating heat. Muggy, sticky temperatures that sapped the strength out of everything. And yet, here he was, in the reikbelt, sweat making his silk shirt stick to him, and generally making him miserable. From dawn till dusk everything suffered from this unmoving heat. Even night offered little respite as… when the sun went down, hordes of mosquitoes popped out of everywhere. It was only his own foresight to bring along some citronella cream that had prevented the old man, and his charge, from being covered in insect welts.
Worse, he found himself surrounded on all sides by a wretched hive of scum and villainy. This… army, to use the term extremely generously, wouldn't even qualify as one, if it came from the disreputable Border Princes. It was a barely held-together, quagmire of thieves, cutthroats, muggers, desperadoes, deserters, traitors, vagabonds, cowards, and ill-respectable ruffians. It was a granfalloon. A mob whipped up into a frenzy by a fiery orator of a clergyman.
Making matters worse, Cossette had accompanied him. Again. It seemed like she was always with him. It confused and vexed the old engineer. He wasn't sure why the little girl never wanted to be with Paetricia or Katarina or even the Lady Issabella. He had even suggested that the half-sister priestesses take the orphan with them, to have the Grand Matriarch inspect the girl, but they politely refused. They stated their summons was a Church matter, and Her Grace would not have the time to properly see the child. So… yet again, the old man found himself in her company.
More puzzling still, the most curious of treasures had found its way into the possession of this throng of unwashed barbarians and philistines. Hefting the quartet of pouches and canteens in his hand he mumbled aloud, "Still… rare spices from Cathay, and sake… I haven't had sake in… a dozen years. A paying client is a paying client."
Looking at his client, the old man put down his payment next to him, and pulled out fistfuls of paper from his greatcoat. He hated dealing with the clergy. His reputation and faith in science did not sit well with the Church of Sigmar… or Cult of Ulric… or the Moorians… or anyone who was easily swayed into believing in the supernatural and divine. Still… a paying client was a paying client. Adjusting his papers, Krueger began, "If you are ready, your Grace, I have completed my inspection of your army. Due forgive, but I am required to make my comments brief and concise. There are a number of persons who have hired the services of my liege the Elector Count Albrecht von Metzger, and I will not be able to elaborate, as I am inclined to do. Still, should something need elucidated upon, I will touch those bases."
"If I may start with you, your Grace. First, I do wonder why you do not have a great hammer. I see your armor is made from metals cured with mercury, making it much stronger and lighter, while offering excellent protection. Still… since you do not wield a shield, a zweihammer should fit you well.
"Next, I… understand that you are not properly ordained to wear the mantle of Arch Lector; however, I doubt most of your… flock would really know the difference. If I may suggest a little, white, harmless, stretching of convenience, I would think you would find it useful to call yourself an Arch Lector. No one would really challenge your claim on the title, and… it might offer you a bit more leadership amongst your… army."
The old man paused here, and flipped through his pages. Finding the one he was looking for, he continued, "Here we are… your Bannerman. I do noticed he is well protected… but… I do find it odd you have an Ulrician with you. I would think a devout of Sigmar, like yourself, would only allow a Sigmarian Bannerman. My warrior priestess colleagues tell me of a Burial Shroud of Sigmar, that, curiously, works exactly like the Ulric Cloak… but… has the blessings of the First Emperor. More importantly, though, I noticed he does not have a Pistol. While… I understand that most who rely upon muscles and brawn are likely to scoff at the sheer utility of a Pistol, I must recommend it. Hauptman Orost, while his eyes seem to focus on nothing, is keen of sight, and quick of action. A pistol increases his ability to act and react on the battlefield. Sometimes, a single shot from a pistol can change the outcome of a fight. If you lack such arms, I do have a few still with me, that my liege, the Elector Count von Metzger, has given me permission to rent, for only a few additional silver, your Grace."
"I do not like your witcher."
Both men looked at Cossette. Krueger wondered, yet again, why her eyes were so blue. "Cossette, please, we discussed this. You are not…"
The little girl held her hand up imperiously. Krueger found himself at a loss for what to do, and became quiet. Locking her unblinking eyes with the pontiff, the Cossette spoke, without moving her lips. "Your witcher serves no purpose. He tries to hunt monsters well beyond his arms and armaments. And, his meager trinkets designed to ward off evil spirits and magicks are weak and ineffective. He serves no place in your army. Send him away, before he causes you trouble."
For several heartbeats, Krueger said nothing, waiting to see if Cossette would continue. She had gotten into this perplexing habit of just speaking suddenly, and, just as mysteriously, being as quiet as midnight again. "Ah… do forgive, your Grace. The poor girl is touched and an orphan from Moussin… Mossum… Mosillium…" The old man shook his head in self disgust, "Do doubly forgive, my Bret-spiel is weak, at best. Yet, that is where the girl is from, originally. My own liege has declared her protected, until all the troubles die down, whence we can return her to her family."
Not sure if his words calmed the prelate, the old man quickly continued, "But… she does have a minor point, your Grace. Your Witch Hunter does seem a bit… out-of-place with your army. What role did you want him to serve? More importantly, I do know that Witch Hunter services do not come cheaply… and yet you have a Volley Gun with only the most rudimentary of crews. If I may suggest, perhaps you could send your Witch Hunter on his way, and hire the services of a gunsmith or master engineer to work with your Volley Gun. If you lack the knowledge on who is a reputable client, I do have a list with me, of local engineer colleagues that I have worked with before, and know how reliable they are. An engineer would be able to whip that crew into shape, and make your Volley Gun more bite, and less bark. In fact, if you do hire an engineer, you could be able to send your other gun team home. The armored carriage and volley gun with engineer should be able to handle anything ugly that comes your way. The silver you save would let you hire a mounted engineer to support your desperadoes, and expand them to a lucky six, for example… or perhaps purchase some arms and equipment to allow your knights to be in a full lance of twelve. "
The old engineer pushed his glasses up his nose. As was his nervous tic, he rubbed his bald head. "Moving onto your next compatriot, your Grace, I'd like to discuss your mages. First, your apprentice. While… I understand that he likes to throw around fire like it’s a toy, perhaps you should see what else he could research? I'm not sold on the trickery of mages, but… I have seen them be very effective at illusion and befuddling others into believing their sideshow antics. I've seen a number of pyromancers do more dangerous things than simply lob Tilean tar-fire bottles."
Crumpling up a page, Krueger stuffed it into one of the bottomless pockets in his coat. He then shuffled and flipped his other papers, till he found the notes he was looking for. "Here we are… Lord Hoff, your botanist. Your Grace, while… I've seen druids take excellent care of farms and forests… I haven't been impressed with what they can actually do in battle. If I may as be so bold, perhaps, given the motley army you have, a shaman would better suit your needs? Shamans are well skilled in making food and potions that bring out a soldiers… or in your case your thugs, inner beast, making them a ferocious Wildman. I've even known shamans to brew a potent spirit from potatoes that can make a man as strong as a ox… albeit for a short dose of time. They are also quite capable athletes, surprisingly. I've borne witness to one throwing spears with the same force as a ballista."
The old engineer stuffed another page back into his coat. Taking a moment, he looked over to his right, where Cossette always seemed to like to be. The way she made eye contact with him still felt unsettling. She never seemed to blink… just… stare. Those otherworldly blue eyes watching him. He tried to smile, to let her know he wasn't mad at her, but her blank expression didn't change an ounce.
"Ah, your Grace," stammered Krueger, "I only have a few more comments. Firstly, your army does give the semblance of an Empire mixed formation. A little infantry… a bit of cavalry… and some missile support. If I may comment on your rangers. While I understand they make for excellent scouts, I feel they are doing the same duty as your desperadoes. Perhaps you could just give them a standard role as irregular archers, and save the fee it normally takes to convince commoners to accept the dangerous task of scouting ahead. In doing so, you'd allow them to act as an escort for one of your wizards, and you might even save a few Imperial silvers you could spend on other food and equipment."
Krueger paused to give the cleric a moment to ask a question. Seeing no response from the pontiff, the old engineer shrugged to himself, and continued. "Speaking of your desperadoes, I also noticed that your desperadoes do not have a musician. I've worked with pistolkorps extensively, and know that a bugle call, at the right moment, will quickly rally them from their standard bait-and-flee duties. If you lack a working horn or bugle, I do have a couple of silver trumpets, that I have been given permission to rent out… though, being as they are of such a high quality workmanship, it will require a bit larger of collateral. You understand, your Grace. They are not mine to freely give."
Pursing his lips for a moment, Krueger collected his thoughts on what to say next. "Alright… I am at a loss for your lance of demigryphs. I've seen the beasts in combat; however… I've never born witness to such a size of them as they are in the Broken Sword. I am… puzzled as to why. While the demigryphs themselves are animals in combat, they… are not highly disciplined. Worse, the riders are more show than substance. In the size of lance that they are in, the rear-rank demigryphs will not really be able to support the attack much, as only the riders will have the forethought to stab forward, while the demigryphs will just roar and buck in frustration. Perhaps you could split them into smaller lances? Or, perhaps just make them a quartet? Also, while I understand that their banner is colorful and bolsters their morale, for a bit… perhaps a war banner or something that will embolden them to boost their confidence in the attack? If you need, I do have a banner blessed by my colleagues, the Warrior Priestess Katarina Friez and Paetricia Senatoriae that often boosts the combat results of the unit bearing it. Not sure how it does it… but… I've seen it work."
"Your Astromancery Orbitational Conflux, while very welcome, may find it hard to decide what to assist in its calculations," interjected Cossette. "It knows the movements of the planets, and its elevated platform will allow her crew to better organize your fighting actions; however, your army is part chaotic movement and part stagnant rest. It is unclear which part the Conflux will assist better… just that it may struggle beyond its limits to try to assist both."
To keep the ire of the priest down, Krueger coughed, and then scolded Cossette, "Young girl, that is enough! His Grace will no longer tolerate your petulant outbursts, and neither will I. If you cannot be quiet for the remainder of our discussion, I will not allow you to accompany me any longer."
Suddenly Krueger felt ashamed at his reprimand. For the first time in the seven months he had known Cossette, an emotion came into focus on Cossette's perfectly blank face. Seeing Cossette actually give a physical reply confused the old engineer, and made him wonder if he had gone too far.
"Your… your Grace, perhaps it is getting to be a bit late for Cossette, so I will do my best to quickly wrap up my comments. Your… zweihanders. While I know they maintain an image of being better than normal State troops… I've watched them in combat. They are no more skilled than well-drilled swordsmen, and I've seen swordsmen survive blows that tear a Greatsword in twain. It's… quite gruesome actually. More to the debate, halberd troops can often accomplish much the same tasks, and usually for far less silver. Given you do have the tactical advantage of the Conflux, as Cossette called it, perhaps you'd be better served with an over-sized company of halberds or swordsmen. I think you could be able to afford almost three halberds to the price of two zweihanders. Quantity has a quality all its own. The swords might not have quite the sting of the zweihanders, or halberds, but they do have the gear and training to stay in the fight, until your knights or riders can hit the same unit in the flank."
Stuffing the ream of papers into the bottomless vault of a pocket on his greatcoat, Krueger took a moment to fish around the several pouches on his belt. Finding what he was looking for, the old engineer knelt down to Cossette's height, and offered the girl a butterscotch. "We can discuss how you can help our clients later, Cossette." He picked up the pouches and canteens, and slung them over his shoulder. Standing back up, he turned to face the priest, "Barring any questions, your Grace, I have already received my payment, and do need to make haste."
