Welcome to the Riot, the churning mass of bodies fed by your Dread Master's infernal magics and intent on conquering the known world. But in order to crush the free peoples of the surrounding nations beneath your hobnailed boots for the glory of Evil, somebody's got to be in charge, and that somebody is you.
Yes, you.
You the individual, second person singular instead of second person plural. You, the person reading this, are currently standing in front of your squad of impressed, cloned, or magically coerced soldiers. You are their sergeant, and it is your job to make the battlefield decisions on how to accomplish your army's objectives. You achieve this by talking to your peers and making plans to concentrate your strength on key places on the battlefield and enact clever plans.
The Dread Master sits in his fortress, researching the arcane arts that will soon bring doom to all who oppose him and periodically sending more black-armored men to defend his borders.
Of those legions you are but a small part. You are the fighting men and women of the 135th Dark Regiment, known by your nickname, the Riot Regiment, in honor of all the better names being taken by the previous one-hundred and thirty four regiments. All of you agree that you are much better off than the 136th Dark Regiment, the Flying Condors, so named because there was no equipment left in the armory for them to have, and the novel way in which they gained said equipment anyway.
So pay no heed to the fact that your borders are smaller than they were last month, or that you're barely at half strength from a horrible accident with a gunpowder transport troll, or how your colonel can't read a map, or indeed read at all, or how . . . Well, pay no heed to anything other than your glorious future in the service of your Dread Master.
Or else.
But what manner of regiment is the Riot Regiment?
[] Cavalry. You're the swift wrecking ball of the Dark Legion, a thundering wall of steel mounted on demon steeds! Or at least you would be if you were one of the long-standing veteran units that actually got demon steeds and plate armor. Most of you have chainmail and leather, and taking care of the horses puts a burden on supplies, but the quality of your weapons is as good as it's going to get. Spears and sabers are what you're good with, and by the Dread Master you make that first charge count!
[] Pikemen. The meat of the Dark Legion, pikemen can hold ground like nobody's business. Behind your heavy shields you might not have much armor, but you can put up a shield wall that won't budge a foot. That's the idea, at least. The quality of your men's training leaves something to be desired, and the invulnerable tight-knit wall of steel has thus far eluded you. Still, though, there's something about big shield and long pikes that keeps you a viable fighting force.
[] Siege Engineers. If it's built up, you can bring it down. Experts at tunneling, breaking walls, and ways of breaking a fortified position, you're loaded with equipment and have the best know-how of anybody, anywhere. If you'd finished the last eight weeks in training, of course. As it is, you've got a lot of equipment, a lot of goodies in barely-marked crates, a ton of donkeys to cart it around, and you'll make the rest up as you go. You wouldn't have it any other way.
[] Skirmishers. You're rough, you're tough, and when the colonel wants to give somebody a bloody nose behind their lines, you're his men. Moving in the off hours to get into position, you're the bane of the ill-prepared or unsecured. Armed with hand weapons, small shields, bows, and light armor, you'll certainly take losses against a prepared foe, but attacking the weak and vulnerable is always an easy job, and one you're well trained for.
This is a Riot Quest, where each vote has a soldier or squad leader (depending on the number of votes and available soldiers) perform an action. Each and every vote is acted on by somebody, and no votes are wasted.