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The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death.

Posted by CaptainHellrazor
CaptainHellrazor
member, 7 posts
Wed 20 May 2020
at 06:31
  • msg #1

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

When Union Colonel Andrew Keane led his blue-coated soldiers aboard the transport ship, he could not have foreseen that their next port of call would be neither the North or South but on an alternate world where no human was free.  Storm-swept through a space-time warp, Keane's regiment was shipwrecked in an alien land, a land where all that stood between them and destruction was the power of rifles over swords, spears and crossbows.

Into this serfdom ruled by nobles and the Church, Keane and his men brought the radical ideas of freedom, equality and democracy - and technology centuries ahead of the world they must now call home.  Yet their knowledge and training might not save them from the true rulers there - creatures to whom all humans were considered mere cattle, bred for sacrifice!

VICTORY OR DEATH!


******************************************************************************

This game is set in the world of The Lost Regiment, a series of books by William R. Forstchen.  We are using a customised set of rules based on the Star Frontiers system and including elements of Boot Hill and GURPs Old West and new developments.

The player characters will begin the game as members of a 35th Maine regiment, the 44th New York Light Artillery, sailors from the "Ogunquit" a US Navy transport vessel or nurses from the Christian Sanitation Committee.

The story begins January 2nd 1865. City Point, Virginia (major supply and shipment center supporting the Union Army besieging Petersburg and Richmond)

As the game progresses there will be opportunities for new players to join the action as our heroes embark on a series of adventures in this new world.

********************************************************************************

The mechanics for this game are currently in development in a Test Play also being run here on RPoL so the main story line for this game will likely begin several months from now, however Character Generation is now open for anyone interested in registering and if a couple of months is too long to wait, there is also room for more Test Players with the fictional but legendary F Troop, 13th US Cavalry.

New or experienced role players are welcome.

CaptainHellrazor
CaptainHellrazor
member, 24 posts
Thu 28 May 2020
at 08:15
  • msg #2

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

Character Generation is now open for players who wish to join the 35th Maine, 44th New York, the crew of the Naval Transport "Ogunquin" or medical staff from the Christian Sanitation Commission.

Uncle Sam CaptainHellrazor Wants You!
CaptainHellrazor
member, 32 posts
Fri 5 Jun 2020
at 09:19
  • msg #3

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

January 2, 1865
City point, Virginia (major supply and shipment center supporting the Union Army besieging Petersburg and Richmond)

Artillery thundered in the distance, the silhouette of Petersburg revealed by the bursting shells as the blue column threaded it's way through the night, away from the besieged city.  Finally they crested a low hill where the military depot and anchorage of City Point lay spread out below.

Colonel Andrew Lawrence Keane sat upon his horse Mercury, talking with Sergeant Major Hans Schuder as the column marched past on it's way down to the docks.

"35th Maine!" a voice shouted from out of the shadows.  "Is this the 35th?"
"Over here," Hans snapped, and a portly man came lumbering up from the dock.
"You're late, we've already missed the damn tide."
The conversation between the officers continued as the 35th marched down to the dock to board the transport ship Ogunquit

"Say Hawthorne, there's the ship."

Vincent Hawthorne looks up from staring at the pack of the man in front of him to see the shadow of his commanding officer and the ship waiting for them.
"Wonder how many of us bloody Keane will kill this time."
"Come on Hinsen, he ain't that bad."
"All officers are bastards."
Jim Hinsen snarled. "Look what he did to us at Gettysburg, and in the Wilderness for that matter.  Plugged us right in the middle of the fight the bastard did."
"Shut up you little cus.  You damn whining cur." 
Sergeant Barry snapped.  "You two weren't even there! You're nothing but fresh fish, damned draftees and bounty boys, so don't say 'us' when you speak of this regiment, until you've seen the elephant and earned the right."

The rest of the new recruits had the sense to stay silent as they marched onto the dock and up the ramp to board the Ogunquit.  A sailor showed each company to their quarters below deck where the artillerymen from the 44th New York Light Artillery were already squared away.
"There are a couple of nurses from the Christian Sanitation Commission on board as well.  There quarters are strictly off limits!" the sailor informs the new arrivals.  "We sail within the hour."
CaptainHellrazor
member, 36 posts
Sun 14 Jun 2020
at 12:41
  • msg #4

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

January 6th, 1865
400 miles south west of Bermuda

Captain Tobias Cromwell, insisted that he keep to his schedule and the growing storm would not interfere, passed the Ogunquit out of the Cheasapeake and into the Atlantic even as the wind gusts picked up to 30 knots.  From there things had only gotten worse, as the weather deteriorated, driving them south west in gales of near hurricane proportions.  The boilers long since damped down, they were now running bare-poled before the wind.
For the first time in more than three days, some of the men of the 35th and 44th realize the seasickness has left them.  Or was it that their bellies had nothing left to bring up?  Mountainous waves constantly pound the Ogunquit and below decks men, and a couple of women, are taking a battering, helpless and at the mercy of mother nature.
As the storm appeared to be reaching a crescendo after more than 3 days, the battering of the waves increased in size and power and then a strange blinding light stabbed out toward the ship.  The light seemed to curl and twist and flow through the ship almost like a liquid, first expanding outward, then contracting and expanding again, bigger each time.  Quickly the entire ship is enveloped in the strange light.
All sound suddenly ceased, the wind and waves still seeming to rock the boat but not a sound.  Then an explosion of light, the ship and everything around you disappears and you are falling.  Falling endlessly. Nothing.

You awake groaning from a massive headache, worse than any hangover you have ever experienced, more drained than after any illness.  The Ogunquit is a shambles both above and below decks where belongings, equipment and bodies are sprawled everywhere at every angle.  Most of the men appear to be alive and uninjured but not everyone.  There are cries from the injured and trapped and even more disturbing sounds coming from where the horses were stabled.

Are you ready to join these brave Yankees in their far flung adventures?
CaptainHellrazor
member, 39 posts
Sun 21 Jun 2020
at 14:32
  • msg #5

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

  As the host continued to deploy, there was no real order to it.  From out of the cavalry column half a dozen riders broke away and started to canter across the field in front of the peasant mob.  Distant shouts echoed out and several hundred yards away, the enemy army came to a halt.
  A loud chant went up, drifting on the late afternoon breeze.  From out of a high wheeled cart traveling with the cavalry there appeared several men dressed in long flowing robes of gold and silver.  each carried a smoldering pot on the end of a length of chain.  Swinging the pots over their heads they began to walk down the length of the line.  As one, the thousands of men dropped to their knees.
  "They're blessing themselves."  Pat O'Donald whispered, and even as he spoke he made the sign of the cross, as did many of the men in his command.  Watching through his field glasses he observes, "Looks like they are doing it backwards though."  He mumbles.
  After another brief conversation,
  "Load solid shot!"  O'Donald bellows.
  "35th Maine, fix bayonets!"  Colonel Keane commands.  "Companies C through K, prime and load."  Hundreds of rammers are pulled, charges bitten open and powder and shot slammed in.
  "Companies A and B load blank charges only and deploy behind the artillery."  Men are looking nervously around them, wondering what their commander is planning.  "C through K companies, you will fire only on my command.  I want all weapons at shoulder arms.  I will personally shoot any man who levels a rifle before my command."
  The regiment silent, almost numbed by the bizarre sight before them.  Colonel Keane faced the double rank of companies drawn up behind the artillery.
  "I don't think they understand who we are. If we give them a good scare without bloodshed we might be able to talk with them later.  It'll be up to them, but when I give the command, aim high and fire off a damned good volley.  Then we'll see what happens."
  "One of them coming up, sir." 
Sergeant Major Hans says as he comes up to stand beside Colonel Keane.
  A lone horseman bearing the crossed swords standard started to gallop toward their line.  As the horseman drew closer he was like something out of a Sir Walter Scott novel.  An armored knight coming to demand submission.  But the man approaching looked more like a ragged beggar than a knight.  His armor was nothing more than a dozen heavy plates stitched to a leather tunic.  A sword belted at his waist and the heavy lance he carried glinting in the reddish sun.  There was something not quite right about that sun.  Too big perhaps?
  "K Kakomu boyaru vy podchinyaetes?"  The rider called out to Colonel Keane who had mounted the defensive perimeter.  He shook his head in response to the rider.
  "Nemedlenno mne otvechayte!  Boyary Ivor-i-Boros trebuyut bashey nemedlennoy sdachi."
  Colonel Keane extended his right hand outwards.
  "I am Colonel Keane of the 35th Maine Volunteers, of the United States Army."
  The rider reined back his horse several paces.
  "Vy yazychnik, vy ne govorite po hashemv yazyku.  Zavaytes!"
  There was a note of fear in the mans voice and there was something strangely familiar about the language.
  "O'Donald, get out here!"
  The rider watches the towering red headed Irishman clamber out of the gun position and reins his horse back several more paces.
  "You said you saw them make the sign of the cross?"
  "That I did colonel."
  "Then do likewise."

  A look of solemn concentration comes over Pat's face and raising his right hand, he made the sign of the Catholic faith.
  "Vy nad nami nasheetivayes!"  The horseman roars, leaning forward he spits on the ground and gallops back to the waiting host.
  "I think we better get inside." Pat says as he drags Colonel Keane back into their position.
  "You made a mistake!"  Emil shouted, trying to be heard of the roaring host.
  "How?"
  "I'll tell you later."
  Emil shakes his head and heads back to the medical tent.
  Andrew cursed at himself as he realized the mistake.
  "Here they come, Colonel" Hans shouted.
  By the thousands the infantry started forward, the cavalry swinging wide toward the beach at a canter.
  "When I tell you Pat.  Companies A and B, present!"  A hundred rifles come to shoulder, aimed high into the air.  Colonel Keane waited until the enemy were within 200 yards...
  "Fire!"
  A sheet of flame and smoke snapped out, the thundering volley echoing across the field.  The wild advance slowed, nearly halting.
  "Now Pat, let's scare the devil out of them."
  O'Donald shouldered the gunner aside, grabbed the lanyard and pulled.  The Napoleon canon leaped back, belching a tongue of fire and billowing smoke, the thunderclap echoing across the field.
  Through the thick smoke, the men of the 35th and 44th Maine could see thousands of peasants throwing aside their pitchforks and clubs and streaming to the rear in panic.  A total and complete rout! And a great cheer rises up from the men.

(OOC)
What would you do next?  Find out, send an RTJ today!
CaptainHellrazor
member, 50 posts
Sat 18 Jul 2020
at 09:53
  • msg #6

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

  Not even a week has passed since the blue-coated warriors arrived in the land of the Rus through the Gates of Light.  Their smoke sticks and thunder makers drove off the army of the local boyar until a brave Rus peasant boldly approached the camp of the blue-coats, befriended their leader and learned to speak their tongue.

  Now the blue coats come to treat with boyar Ivor for their lives but Ivor's brother Mikhail has led a palace coup and now Ivor must be saved by the blue-coats.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  The men of A company and Gun No. 1 crew know they are no longer on earth, the two moons in the sky every night for the last 6 days tell them that.  But the people they have met here are definitely humans from earth.  These ones are speaking Russian and their city looks like something from our of a Walter Scott tale of knights and fair damsels.  But then there are those paintings and carvings and statues everywhere of these monstrous, 10 foot tall creatures with fangs and covered in fur that none of the locals will talk about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Welcome to Valennia and the world of The Lost Regiment!
CaptainHellrazor
member, 59 posts
Sun 2 Aug 2020
at 09:08
  • msg #7

The Lost Regiment - Victory Or Death

  The men of the 35th Maine and the 44th New York have been in this strange alien world for a little over a month and now.  After helping the local lord to put down an attempted palace coup, they have been gifted a plot of land to build their new home, Fort Lincoln.
  Their steam powered ship, the 'Ogunquit', is still considered somewhat of a magical wonder by the medieval Russians who inhabit this world and the Yankees are slowly coming to realize that their future may not be altogether bleak.  True they did not know how they arrived on this world or how they might get back home and there has been some grumbling in the ranks, to be expected from any military unit.
  The knowledge locked in the heads of these men from Maine and New York could well be the difference between surviving this new world, perhaps even building an even better society than the one they left behind.
  But, and there is a very big but, there is much still to be learned about this new world and the locals do not yet trust the Yankees enough to tell them everything about this land, especially those big hairy statues along the side of the road into the city of Suzdal.  The word 'Tugar' seems to strike fear into heart of any of the locals and none have yet been brave or stupid enough to speak any further.
  Who, or what, are these Tugars?

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