Event 0 : The Old World

August 9th 1835

The Lord Wellingtons gala ball was to be the social occasion of the social season. With the summers campaign deadlocked in a deadly stalemate the commanders of the British army in the Pas De Calais region set out to host a ball in honour of the Iron duke.

Invitations poured out to the cream of the upper classes and hundreds of other specially selected members of the universities and societies old Soldiers and a handful of foreign dignitaries.

The ball was a wondrous occasion the food prepared by the kitchens of Saint- Omer some of the best the guests have ever eaten the wine of the region flowing freely the troubles of the time forgotten in the joy of the day and the glittering butterfly like dances.

It all started so innocently a Junior officer called away, a hushed conversation in the corridor there ,a look of worry on the face of a Cavalry officer leaving the room his dance partner abandoned. Slowly but surely it became apparent that something was very much amiss.

With the last Waltz of the evening due to be played to the concerned and now gossiping guests the silence of the warm night air is pierced for the first time by the crack of a not to distant Explosion. Many assumed that the fireworks had begun early and made there way outside to find to there great surprise the horizon lit with flames and the sound of advancing guns.

Two days later cold and more that a little shell shocked you are still fleeing towards the relative safety of the coast and the hope of rescue by the fleet.

From the fractured information you have been given a massive French force armed with a new and terrifying weapon smashed the British line and exploited the chaos to scatter the British forces in the area. Chaos reigns supreme as forces fall back before the advancing might of the Imperial French armies, rumours abound some even say that Wellington has fallen to the French others that the French fleet is in the channel and that there is no escape.

Making your way with a group of other survivors, some long time friends others abject strangers have made it to within miles of the coast with little sign of the French forces for hours when a signal from the rear guard leaves you fleeing the group fragmenting as the Soldiers who had been your guard turn to fight to buy you time to escape.