Weirdly, just having some one keep at me helped things immeasurably because it meant that rather than overthinking things and worrying, we just did it. The result was a short, lively game played over Google that was very enjoyable and that whizzed by. We packed a lot of stuff into two hours.
Proof, if proof were needed, that I do my best work under constant supervision and when cornered like a rat.
Situation:
The players are all subalterns in the British army being shipped to Wellington's army in Portugal in January 1810. They are being transported aboard the HMS Alacrity, a frigate under the command of Captain Stern.
The HMS Alacrity suffered badly in a storm and was blown badly off course. Her her water casks got lose in the hold, being badly damaged in the process. Captain Stern was obliged to put into the nearest land, the French occupied coast of northern Spain.
Dramatis Personae
Captain Stern
A distant authority figure who can never be pleased. Captain Stern is the commander of the HMS Alacrity, a frigate which came to grief in a storm and which had to venture ashore looking for water, somewhere in the Asturias.
Viewing the players are landsmen, soulless creatures little better than the beasts of the field, Stern took the opportunity to put them ashore and send them off to collect some intelligence from the farmhouse overlooking the bay. Meanwhile, his sailors took on the proper jobs of repairing casks, finding fresh water and trying to find supplies.
Midshipman Evans and his party put the players ashore and then settled down to proper work. He reiterated the Captain's instructions (which the players promptly forgot) that they were to get up to the farmhouse, find out exactly where they were (which they also forgot to do) and find out what the French presence in the area was (if any) and what the state of the country was.
They were put ashore at 0930 and were to be back by 1230. If they heard three guns fire, they were to hightail it back to the beach as fast as their feet could carry them. Evans was absolutely explicit on this point.
But who were the plucky lads sent up to explore strange new bits of Spain, to seek out new friends and allies against the French and to speak English slowly and loudly where no Briton had spoken it before?
They were;
Ensign Molloy (Right) & Ensign Peterson (Left)
Ensign Molloy
Twenty one year old Ensign Molloy of the 86th is the senior man in the party. He was born to rich landed gentry somewhere in South County Dublin. A handsome youth with polished manners and fine command of French, he is a persuasive speaker and is no doubt putting in a few years in uniform before being pack off to parliament.
Carrying: Sabre, Pistol & Purse of Gold.
Ensign Peterson (played by the Mad Padre)
Seventeen year old Ensign Peterson of the 18th Royal Irish The second eldest son of landed (but not titled) gentry somewhere in Britain or Ireland (we haven't worked out where yet). A pimply young creature, he has the benefits of a classical education and also, crucially, speaks Spanish.
Carrying: Sabre, Fancy Pocket Watch, Caesars Gallic Wars.
Peterson and Molloy are accompanied by two men of the 18th whose names escape me.
Ensign Egan and CSM O'Brien
Ensign Egan (played by Tom)
Twenty year old the Honourable Ensign Egan of the 18th Royal Irish. The youngest son of the Lord Butler, First Marquess of Ormonde - there are some doubts as to his legitimacy, which might explain why he ended up in the line rather than gracing the ranks of a more fashionable regiment. A youth of average mien, he is a gifted fencer and rather good at sneaking around.
His enthusiasm for cold steel and ruthless streak have yet to find full expression, but he is already being referred to as "Slasher" Egan around the mess. One can only hope that CSM O'Brien can keep him on the straight and narrow.
Carrying: Sabre, Spyglass, Compass.
2LTCribb
Twenty year old the 2LT Cribb of the 95th Rifles (date of commission equal to your date of birth). You are the middle son of a country clergyman from deepest darkest Kent. A youth of average mien, he is a good shot and scandalises decent opinion by carrying a rifle himself and swanning about in a fancy pelisse. He is a good cross country runner. He is accompanied by his servant and minder, Rifleman Harris, who is not finding this the cushy number he was expecting.
Carrying: Rifle, Sabre, Writing Materials.
So how did it go?
There was a quick comparing of commission dates (I used the players birth dates) and it was determined that young Molloy was the senior officer. He led the party ashore, was given a brief lecture by Midshipman Evans, which he promptly ignored, then had a brief break to get their land legs and then set off inland.
Looking at the approach to the farmhouse, the party had two routes - a more direct route which lacked cover, but would be faster and a second more circuitous route which had more cover. Molloy plumped for the second and soon the lads were scrambling up the escarpment.
Once they got to the lip of the cliff, Cribb and Harris slithered forward and had a look.
They saw a farmhouse complex surrounded by hedges and with a fountain in the middle. They snuck forward and realised that the closest building seemed to be a kitchen and servants quarters. Ensign Egan told off CSM O'Brien and two men to hunker down by the entrance to the court yard and keep sketch.
