test drive meme

[barrayarmods]

Playlists by tsarcasm:
Barrayar ⚔ Cetaganda ⚔ The Invasion

Have you read the FAQ?

The Village ⚔ The Barrayaran Camp ⚔ The Cetagandan Base ⚔ The Fight

You've been on Barrayar for a while now, and you're finally starting to adjust. Or maybe you're not. Maybe this is all still too much for you – the attacks, the constant raids, living in the middle of a war zone by no choice of your own. But if you want to live long enough to make it back home one day, you might as well do what you can to help the war effort. Besides, where else are you going to go?

The fierce Barrayaran winter rages even to the southern end of the continent, and it's been none too kind to Vorkosigan's District. Temperatures at sea level are well below freezing, and up in the mountains, it's even colder. Several inches of snow already blanket most of the mountains all the way down to the Cetagandan base, and the storm that's just started up is only bringing more down. Visibility is low in the flurries, wind swirling snow everywhere, and God help you if you get lost on your own out in the storm. Nights are cold, these days.

A recent attack on the Cetagandan base has left half their facilities damaged and in disarray. Raid parties snuck in by night, planting bombs in previously scouted locations for maximum effect. Damage to the base's water treatment plant and organic grow labs have considerably impacted the Cetagandans' food and water supply, and in the chaos caused by the explosions, the Barrayaran guerrillas raided their medbay and made off with a considerable bounty of medical supplies. One man's bane is another man's boon, and while the Cetagandans have reserve supplies to sustain them for now, some of the damage is extensive and the repairs will take time. But in the meantime, the Barrayarans have scored a precious victory as well as equally precious resources.



the village
The Riverfall villagers are used to the harsh winters of the Dendarii mountains, and though they don't have much themselves, they are happy to offer what they can in terms of cold-weather clothing and extra blankets to those allied with the guerrillas. Despite the cold, the hill children are going wild in the snow, and they may try to lure you into their play by sneakily pelting you with snowballs.

Cetagandan allies, however, may not be met so warmly, and at the first sight of ghem soldiers, any children out playing in the snow will be immediately ushered into their homes. Unaccompanied outsiders from the Cetagandan base might have an easier time talking to the hillfolk, but any attempt at digging information about the guerrillas out of them will get you stonewalled fast. A sneaky hill child or two may steal away from their home to approach one of the "bad guy" outsiders to sate their curiosity.



the barrayaran camp
Morale is higher than it has been in a while after their recent victory, and the guerrillas are in high spirits. And do they ever love their spirits – as night falls, most of the Barrayarans gathered around the campfires are enjoying the deceptively named, dangerously alcoholic moonshine they call maple mead. It might start out sweet, but it burns all the way down, and a few glasses of that stuff will tank even the heaviest Barrayaran soldier.

But the storm rages on despite their celebration, and preparations must be made. Clearing as much snow off the tents as possible will help ensure that no tents collapse overnight, the horses need to be tended to, and the officers are always running training drills. Food is in real supply now, but the guerrillas need help foraging and hunting nonetheless. And when night falls, you'll have to find a way to keep yourself warm – it's a good thing there are a cozy ten of you to a tent.



the cetagandan base
The Cetagandans outnumber their guerrilla enemies almost seventy-to-one, so their base has not been completely devastated, but it hardly looks to be the work of a few raiding parties. Nothing is beyond repair, but the water treatment plant has been taken offline, which means that all water is now locally sourced and must be treated by hand with purification tablets. No one in the base will starve, but fresh food is mostly unavailable until they get the grow labs back online, which means that meals are mostly comprised of ration bars and MREs. Morale isn't exactly at an all-time low, but none of the ghem officers seem to be in a good mood.

They won't hesitate to put you to work, either. They need all the engineers and laborers they can get for the grow labs and the treatment plant, and the medbay's inventory needs to be thoroughly audited before they can send a request for more supplies. But if you need a break, it's not too hard to slip away for a little quiet downtime. Some of the lower-ranked ghem ladies might let you participate in some more artistic activities, or maybe some of the enlisted soldiers who are a little more used to you by now might invite you into one of their Cetagandan games of strategy. Or, since the treatment plant only affected potable water, you could appreciate your comfortable surroundings and take a nice hot soak in the bathroom while everyone else is working.


the fight
PVP
You're in the midst of a skirmish with the other side -- maybe you signed up for the battle, maybe you just got caught up in the fight -- but at least it's easy to tell who's on what side. Only one side is wielding swords, and the other guns.

But then you come across someone who doesn't look like they're either -- not one of the rugged Barrayarans or the face-painted Cetagandans, but an outsider, an exotic like you. They must be. So do you fight?

RECON
Maybe you're not on the front lines, but there's plenty more to winning the war than just fighting. You're partnered with another outsider on recon; the ground is cold, and you try not to let your shoes crunch too loudly on snow as you scout, scanning for patrols or supply lines.

Or maybe you're with the Cetagandans, hiking it thorugh the mountains with one of your fellow exotics in an attempt to locate the enemy camp. Except it's damned cold, and there's hidden ice everywhere, and everything is starting to really look the same.

--

Feel free to write prompts for your character on either side -- you don't have to choose just one for the TDM! Just label it clearly so folks know. GO WILD, MY FRIENDS

Comments

[oldvor]

Thirty. Hm. Just a few years shy of himself, then. The flinch doesn't escape Piotr's notice, but it hardly fazes him, either. His lips are still pressed thin as he does the mental math. There isn't much to do. For all this man claims to have done, he must've led an exciting life -- as a mutant prole, no less. It doesn't sound unlikely so much as it sounds unrealistic. The Oserans could be the name of a real mercenary outfit, they could be entirely fictional; Piotr's well aware he has no way of ascertaining the truth of it, so it's a moot point.

"Quite a career for someone like you," Piotr says dryly, and there's no ambiguity as to what he means by someone like you. "And impressive indeed, for you to have launched such a career from the very dregs of our society. And with so little to start with, belike. One wonders how you could have obtained passage off planet when such a luxury was afforded only to diplomatic and military dispatches."

Yeah, Miles, your shit stinks and Piotr doesn't exactly have a head cold here. There's clearly truth to some of it, but Piotr's no village idiot.

[dendarii]

Just twist the knife a little harder there. The luster of dealing with his grandfather's familiar stubbornness is dimming quickly; he'd gotten so used to people not calling him mutant that each implied insult is a fresh wound. Focus. Take comfort. Move on.

Piotr thinks he's the dregs of society, eh? He can use that. Because he knows pretending to a military or a diplomatic connection will only lead to him being caught eventually, if not instantly. He bow his head a bit, allowing Piotr's barbs to sink in enough to prompt a flush. "Ah. You've caught me out," he says, looking at the ground. "My trip offworld was not precisely ... legal."

[oldvor]

Piotr lets out a totally unsurprised hm. "Of course," he murmurs, still stone-faced. "And I'm sure your galactic mercenaries welcomed you with open arms. Perhaps it was the novelty that sold them on it."

If his wife were here, she might accuse him of being needlessly cruel, but she isn't, and so he doesn't give that thought any weight. His eyes harden and he leans forward, and if there was any chance trace of amusement on his face before, it's gone now.

"I've made my stance clear on interlopers. I have even less tolerance for conmen." The words aren't quite said through his teeth, but they might as well be bared. After a beat, he draws back, straightening. "If you're going to work, you can start here. The stalls need cleaning, and you seem to know what you're doing here, at the very least."

He really doesn't buy into that bunk about this man being a strategist, or whatever, and like hell Piotr's going to let him into the war tent.

[dendarii]

Novelty. That's what finally gets Miles to grit his teeth in annoyance. Sure, he'd been novel to the Dendarii, but it hadn't been his novelty getting work done. He'd done so well. He'd been doing so well, until his seizures had started ...

After a moment's struggle, he composes himself. There is absolutely zero point in letting these barbs get the better of him. Especially Piotr's. Instead, he uses it as fuel to rekindle that stubborn light in his own eyes. "No con," he says. Save the one he must play perfectly or risk god knows what disaster. "But I don't much expect you to trust me, either. I intend to work. Or muck, as the case may be." The last comes out a little roll of his shoulders towards the stables. That will actually be kind of nice. No risk of meddling with the timeline by cleaning out a stall. All the time in the world to see more of Piotr's horses.

[oldvor]

The mutant is tenacious, Piotr will give him that. He'd have to be, to have survived this long. Piotr's eyes flash in response to meet that challenge, and his mouth tightens slightly, but he simply lets out a breath through his nose, barely giving Miles the courtesy of a nod.

"Good." No con, he says, but Piotr doesn't have any reason to take him at his word. No, he'll have to work for that -- and hard. Piotr gives the sorrel mare one last pat on her back before he properly moves out of her stall. "And when you're done in here, report to Colonel Vordesai. I'll have another job for you."

[dendarii]

Another job, eh. Likely more menial tasks until Miles either proves himself or kills himself trying. He's determined to manage the former even if it means the latter. "Sir," he responds, with a sharp nod of his own. He doesn't quite dare salute for fear that the gesture might give away something else. instead, he turns to take down the supplies he'll need to clean.