(1866-02-23) Considerations of Command
Considerations of Command
Summary: Synthia and Thomas talk in broad overviews about commanding troops. Henric joins in with his two copper stars.
Date: 23 Fevrier, 1866
Related: Anything related to the sack of Griffon Point.
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Henric  Synthia  Thomas  

Griffon Point main hall
The Main Hall of Griffon Point Keep
23 Fevrier, 1866

Its mid afternoon and things within the fortress of Griffon Point are rather slow compared to the activity in the city surounding it. A few people come and go but very little seems to be happening in comparison. Still it provides ample time to think and that seems to be what Synthia is doing at the moment. The Reine Lady wears a gown today, a pretty blood red gown trimmed in black lace that highlights her figure. Staring out one of the windows that looks out onto the city she looks thoughtful though her expression is rather hard to read beyond that. She remains alert to her surroundings as well watching the hall she lingers in out of the corner of her eyes.

After a long morning of training, Lord Thomas was quite satisfied with the performance of his soldiers. They'd been going over the rather simple, in theory, act of receiving enemy charges. Simple in theory, because while it sounds easy to stand with shield locked and spear braced as someone runs into you or, at the worst case, as a whole formation of horses gallop at you, it is the kind of thing that even the most veteran of soldiers are prone to losing their nerve over. Midafternoon, and Thomas could nod his head that the men were now slightly less likely to bow back under such pressure. He had let them and their officers go until later on in the evening, when training would resume. Under dark.

Since finishing the sweaty part of the day, then, Thomas has returned to the keep of Griffon Point, bathed, and changed into new clothing. He comes down the staircase wearing a clean padded gambeson, with a miniature verson of his house's arms in form of a sewn badge. Spotting Synthia, the Eastern Lord heads over.

Synthia's head turns slightly as she hears someone approch her. Upon spotting Thomas she turns around fully to face him and drops into a respectful curtsey. "Lord Chandus, a pleasure to see you again." Her tone is polite but also calm and a brow raises slightly as she studies him almost as if she is suprised about something. Her head tilts to the side slightly as she regards him. She says nothing more for the moment simply studying him with those intense green eyes of hers. Her expression is equally calm and composed other than that previous hint of surprise she shows nothing more of whatever she might feel.

"Lady Synthia." Thomas greets in return, his features generally bereft of any emotion, as has been his manner since he's returned to the East. He nods in response to her. There is a pause, possibly an awkard silence, though on his part, he simply has nothing to say. "I hope his Excellency is keeping you busy?"

There is a faint smile on Synthia's lips at the question. "For the most part yes. I have had little time to truly relax since I arrived here." That smile fades away. "Not that I would wish to with all that has happened. However there is nothing for me to do at the moment and so I must be patient and wait for His Excellency to give me another task of some sort." She regards him carefully a faint glitter of interest in her eyes now. "Your House is known for its infantry isn't it? The Sun Shields, from what I've heard they are almost as formiddable as the Dragon's Claws. I would expect you know your way around a battlefield Lord Chandus…perhaps I could convince you to impart some of that knowledge to me? I may be His Excellency's squire but I have found that those who wish to be truly great seek learning from many sources and not just one." Another faint smile blooms and there is a hint of amusement in her eyes. "And since I've made time to spar with a Cassomir already I think I should continue testing my skills…I want to be prepared when we go into battle."

"I don't know if my men are quite on the level as the Dragon's Claws, as painful as it is for me to say." Thomas answers, dryly. However, there is the hint of a smile on his face, if only for a moment. "But our isolation essentially demands that we have our own unit of troops. In certain years with large amounts of snow, the Valley of Scales is cut off other than for persistant travellers. The last few years have not been thus, thankfully, but it means that the Lord of Sun Shield Keep must have full control of his soldiers."

He pauses again for a long moment. "I'll be the first to tell you that I am not the greatest warrior ever. I have been fortunate enough to have been instructed by men who knew their blades and shields well, and confirmed the knowledge in the heat of battle. But my expertise, instead, is in my eye when a step behind the main battle line. I seek not to boast, Lady Synthia, but my mind for the control of men and their logistics is superior to the swing of my sword. What would you seek to know?"
<Pose Tracker> Synthia has posed.
Synthia listens quietly as Thomas speaks. As he speaks of knowing tactics and command those green eyes light up slightly with what could only be delight. A smile that is a touch brighter than the last one she gave touches her lips. "Almost any man or woman alive can fight if he wishes Lord Chandus. I can wield a blade decently myself but I would be a fool if I did not seek to learn more than just how to attack with that blade. The mind needs to be just as sharp as ones blade if you wish to truly succeed. I would learn command and tactics from you if you would teach them. Yes I know a little but it is only that, a little." While her expression remains calm she almost looks a touch excited if the gleam in her eyes is anything to go by.

A laugh escapes out of Thomas's mouth. It is not harsh or dour, as his appearance might suggest, but rather amused and happy. "Know that I am not a sage in my field, Lady Synthia. That being said, I would be happy to teach you. Despite the tales, it is mostly an unglamorous job. We seek, as commanders, to know our men and know how to get them to do what we need them to do. Soldiers, especially well trained ones, are capable of much. However, their leadership ultimately decides on how they truly perform when under the heavy breath of the enemy." He motions with a broad sweep of his hand towards a table in the hall. "Let us eat some, then, and speak. I desire something to quench the thirst and would be most pleased to share it with you."

Synthia's smile brightens further at that amused laugh that she gets. Her expression is thoughtful and considering and she offers a nod her eyes taking on that delighted shine again when he agrees to teach her. "You have my sincerest thanks Lord Chandus. I will do my very best to learn." His words on soldiers have her tilting her head. "So the army is only as good as the person who leads it then?" The offer of food and drink has her nodding once more that faint smile returning once again. "And I would be pleased to join you." She moves over to the table waiting for Thomas to sit first before she will settle gracefully across from him.

Thomas walks over to the table with a simple, purposeful stride. He nods at Synthia and then seats himself, calling over one of the Tarris servants and asking, "We would like bread, cheese, some other collations and wine. And water, as well, obviously." He turns without waiting for an answer from the commoner. He must be of the mind that those of a lower rank will do as they are told. "Absolutely not, on the question of soldiers' qualities. Good soldiers will always outperform bad ones. However. Good leadership can make much out of soldiers who are less worthy of their weapons or reputations, while poor leadership of good soldiers will have less of an effect. In essence, a well trained and disciplined group of soldiers has a officers and non commissioned officers built into their structure, making them far more resilient in the heat of battle. Are you following so far, Lady Synthia?"

Synthia studies Thomas across the table her expression one of careful thought as she considers his words. After a breif moment of consideration she offers a reply. "I believe so Lord Chandus. Both the soliders and the commanders skill matter but the commander can make a difference one way or the other. It seems that a skilled commander would be a benfit to thier men be the soldiers skilled or unskilled. While an unskilled commander might lessen the effect of talented soldiers and render the lesser talented ones almost completely unaffective. Both the armies skill and the commanders skill should be taken into account then? What other factors make a difference?" She seems quite interested in hearing what Thomas has to say. Her eyes show that interest and her hands come to rest on the tables edge placed neatly atop each other as she listens eagerly.

"It's not just the skill of the men, but also their discipline. There are many skilled knights and skilled soldiers, who, one on one, can fight quite well. However, do they know how to fight as a unit? Do their officers, their standard bearers, their horn or drum men, and their Serjeants, Corporals and Lance Corporals know how to take command of the men under them and rise to the occasion should their superiors be struck down? These are structural and disciplinary concerns that go far beyond simple skill with a sword. Do they know how to form up quickly, to keep their dressing with the men around them and stay in a line? Can they move quickly while staying in line? More concerns." The entrance of the servants back into the room with food and drink cause Thomas to raise his hands and make a 'come here' motion with them. When the refreshments are laid down, however, he does nod in thanks to the commoners. Then he turns his watery blue eyes back to Varian's squire.

"Beyond discipline and skill, there are morale and logistics. The two are tied together, intimately, but are not the same. What is the motivation of the men? Do they trust their commanders, in the campaign? Are they confident? And for logistics, how are their supplies? Are they being fed and watered properly? Do they have the necessary tools and weapons? How about their pack horses?"

"Trying to bore the Lady to death?" Henric says as he comes in from one of the doors, seeing only the dress and not really recognizing on sight the woman he sparred with, initially. But the sentiment still holds, as he offers a smile in jest toward Thomas while he decides to join them at the table. "Thomas, good to see you," added as he pulls out a chair, nodding to a servant who offers him drink, eyes flashing toward Synthia as he sits. "Ah, a lecture…" he idly yanks on his trousers to set them before he sits, "I should take notes." He selects some of the offered cheese and breads, ripping out the soft inside of the bread to shove in his mouth while he accustoms himself to the topic of conversation.

However humourless Thomas has been, his demeanour completely changes when he hears that familiar voice entering the hall. He rises from his seat and grins broadly to greet the newcomer. "Sir Henric, a pleasure, as always. I fear you might be wasting your time, not at the end of a lance or… another type of lance." He winks at the Cassomir and retakes his seat, gesturing to the food. "Enjoy, of course. I was going over the overview of command with Lady Synthia, Viscount Varian's squire, as she expressed interest. Of course, the overview and actually putting it in practice are two seperate things but… in time, we will get to that." His watery blue eyes flick back to Synthia. "You know, Lady Synthia, Sir Henric is actually a rather skilled commander himself. I suspect his men would not be standing, mounted or laying in bed were it not for this prowess, after the frontal charge he did at Goldhollow. Were it any other, none would have survived."

"Never fear, I haven't broken any lances today, unfortunately," Henric responds with a jovial nature to Lord Chandus, cracking an easy grin as he stretches out his legs underneath the table, welcoming himself to the food even before the gesture. "Lady Synthia, good to see you again," offering through a chew of his bread, because honestly, it's Henric and he's not as polished as some Lords ought to be. The topic earns a rise of his brows and a muffled 'ahh' as he continues to feed on the bread and cheese, as if he's gone without some food for the day and is now ravenous. The praise he gets from Thomas causes him to swallow the lump of food in his mouth before he was ready too, taking to rush down a gulp of wine to chase it before it got stuck. He studies Thomas for a long time, as if to weigh the praise, quite unsure of it, wary of it even before he shrugs, "Some say I was trying to get myself killed honourably." A frown follows, "I did take a heavy loss though. Altogether Goldhollow stole twenty one good soldiers and knights from me. That is an aspect of command you also have to deal with, for every life is in your hands when you give the orders."

Synthia is quiet now listening carefully to what Thomas says. When Henric arrives she remians silent a moment longer before looking to the knight and dipping her head respectfully a faint smile on her lips. "Sir Henric, its a pleasure to see you again as well." She watches him eat with a raised brow taking a goblet of wine for herself but nothing else. She studies the two men with a mildly curious gaze as she takes a slow sip of the wine. Thomas's mention of Henric's sucess as a commander draws some interest from her. "Well Sir Henric has already proven himself to be a capable warrior I suppose it makes sense that he would be somewhat skilled in command as well." The Cassomir is given the faintest of smiles before the Reine Lady looks back to Thomas. "I will think on what you have said Lord Chandus and if I can find a book or two to broaden my knowledge of the subject I will do that as well. I also welcome further advice from yourself. Even if I did find it boring, which I don't. It is useful knowledge to have. But I must be off to attend to his Excellency. Good eve."

On the topic of succesful warriors being good commanders, Thomas clicks his tongue, mildly. "Ah, one would think so. At his level, Sir Henric is a fine horseman and knight and an excellent commander. Likewise, your cousin Viscount Varian is one of the finest warriors I've ever met, and knows his command well. But that is not true. Most men are not suited to command. Sir Henric and the Viscount are blessed by the One, in this regard." He shakes his head at Henric. "Many say many things. Most people are fools. You may have taken heavy loss, but you preserved the balance of your men and they will flock back to you when healed. And new ones, as well. Your reputation is enhanced. But on the lives of those in our service… such is difficult, of course. Let us talk about the theory, first, and then move to practical in turn." To Synthia, "Books are useful. Command of a group of soldiers is more. You ought to be put in charge of men who look to you for guidance, in training. I can talk to his Excellency and make this happen. God keep you, Lady Synthia."

Henric leans an elbow on the table, noting the faint smile that trails behind Synthia's assumed attempt at flattery, poorly done which has him smirking as he jams another good hunk of bread into his mouth. It does keep him from responding, for a time, allowing the opinions of Chandus and Reine surface on the table before him. The continued compliments from Thomas makes the Cassomir eventually mutter facetiously, "You're going to make me blush, you know I'm a sap." He gestures toward the servant with the flagon of wine, poising his cup upward to signify a refill, which happens swiftly enough for his liking. "My regiment might have been cut in half, but you're right, I have acquired a handful of new recruits. They'll take time to train properly, of course. And then there's those in the city who wish to avenge their loved ones. I will be holding some trials for them, see if they can ride well enough to be taken on. Cavalry isn't for everyone, afterall." He'll settle back as they turn the discussion to books, noting, "I hated reading books. Best to learn first hand. Make mistakes in live training scenarios."

"Horsemen are easier to find in the western and southern areas of the Duchy, certainly. In the east, where Lady Synthia and I are from, the ground is not good for heavy cavalry. Our horse tend to be light and the preponderence of force is the men on foot. No offense intended, Sir Henric, but while horsemen may move around quickly and be the decisive edge in battle, without good infantry, whither the result." Perhaps Thomas is not being entirely serious in his disdain of cavalry; he is engaging in the old horse & foot rivalry and dips his head with a smirk in silent acknowledgement of this.

"I find men with a purpose in their hearts can be counted on to excel, given the chance. It's what drives a man sometimes that prevails against the strength of arm and size of horse," he smears a wedge of cheese into the crust of the loaf he's scooped out, putting it to his mouth with an audible crunch, crumbs exploding everywhere. At least he has the thought to sweep the crumbs aside with a hand, brow lifting at the rivalry. "This is an topic that could lead to hours of debate, my friend," he crunches down again on another bite, speaking through after a few chews, "But there is nothing like the thunder of a hundred horses riding down a sluggish cluster of infantry. That and I love the appeal of smashing through shields at a gallop." Cue the grin.

"Were it not that I was dashed to the ground by Anders One-Eye in the last battle, I would make a serious stake to the fact that horse will not charge a solid wall of spears. Of course, that depends even more on the nerves of those who stand to receive the charge than those delivering it, and many a battle has been lost when those same thunderous hooves you speak of caused hardened men to flinch and run." Thomas rubs his hands together, reaching over to pour a fresh cup of wine, mixing it with water. He scoops some food onto his plate; cheese, bread, meat and some pickled vegetables. His bounty harvested, the Eastern Lord begins to eat a somewhat more civilised fashion than Henric. "You're not wrong, ultimately, but neither am I. An army succeeds off its ability to use all of its arms to their best."

"Which is why we have lances to counter the spears, not that it always works, that's true. I've seen my share of men and beast skewered," Henric shifts a bit in his chair, speaking of Anders reminds him of something. He holds the thought with some obvious distraction caused by it. In fact, even at the conclusive sentiment that Thomas provides of the importance of all arms, Henric leans forward, "You know what's going on here, don't you? Anders One-Eye didn't take on Goldhollow because he followed a ghost. The Butcher is still alive. What do you make of it?"

"I don't know, Sir Henric." Thomas easily shrugs. Either he's not seriously thought this through or he has, and is keeping his cards close to his chest. Ever since he showed up at Goldhollow, the young lord was not nearly as expressive and easy going as he had been previously, for reasons Henric already knew. He's hard to read now and he does not break this trend, his expression barely showing through. What does, a mild, fleeting frown pulling down on his lips is only briefly visible. "I was not there when the Viscount struck him down at the great battle. I was busy watching my brothers respectively get a crossbow bolt in the eye and get leg mangled by billhook and die a few days later." That off his chest, he exhales through the nose. "Well, maybe a few other things. But I do not know. Stranger things have happened, no?"

"His reputation speaks more than what I knew of him personally," they were both in their late teens when it had taken place of course, minds on other things than the great commanders of the Succession War. The Cassomir regarded the expression on Thomas' face, or lack of, more precisely. To fill such observation he takes a relative sip that lingers as long as the silence does. "Stranger things, like hundreds of men disappearing underground," their failings of that Foothill attack still stuck in his craw. "Are you marching out with the Viscount?" to change the topic.

"Perhaps our failure to account for all of the enemy at the foothills caused this, but we'll never know. Looking at this objectively, the massive amount of enemies with excellent equipment, organisation and fanaticism seems to indicate to me, at least, that we've only entered the antechamber of the cave, so to speak. There is much in the shadows waiting for us to discover, I fear. We lack information more than anything else." Thomas frowns more deeply and for longr, this time. "I believe I am. We've lost many men, but our training went well this morn."

"From what I found out, at least, Alphard is using Arturo Romantes tactics in the field," Henric has satisfied his appetite as he reclines in his chair, foot pushing it up to rock back, dusting his hands off of crumbs, "We'll never be able to pin them down unless we can get ahead of them. And at this rate, we're so far behind, we're chasing shadows. If we could get a lead, some information…" he grunts, "Unlikely, from where we're standing." He scrubs his hand through his hair, "Left to better men I suppose and we'll get our orders when they come through with it." He lets his chair fall back on all fours, glancing at Thomas, "I pray you have better success out there than in previous days." A suggestion made, "If there's time before you leave, we should have our men run through some drills together."

"I appreciate what you're doing, Henric. That kind of line is certainly not my specialty. Perhaps you'd better forward your thoughts and knowledge to those who know more about that? I'm sure someone must have a bloody spymaster in all of this mess." Thomas nods gravely at the talk of drills. "Aye, we should. That would be good for all of us, I think. We should use some of the Tarris men who'll stay behind as enemies and work side by side with eachother, since it is with eachother who we'll fight on campaign."

"I've already done so. I've sent a letter to my brother. If the bloody Rose Champion… Defender of the Queen can't figure out, who can?" He smirks a bit, "At least he's well-connected enough that he'll get it to a spymaster." A shrug then as he sits forward, seeing one of his men come in from over Thomas' shoulder, nodding at the Chandus Lord, "We'll set something up then. Later this afternoon if not tomorrow morning. Send me word. It shouldn't be too difficult to sort out-" he's rising at the approach of his man, whose making cues to get his attention in an urgent fashion, "Excuse me Tom," a nickname used abruptly and perhaps for the first time, "This bloody post keeps me busy. Not that I mind." He steps out around the chair and comes to clap Thomas on the shoulder as he moves to leave, for his man is already turning to draw him off.

"I pray that your Lord Brother is able to help. Tomorrow would be best. I plan to have them perform a few manoeuvers under darkness, tonight." Thomas rises from his seat, grinning at Henric. "God keep."

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