Root Concept
Sappho stands secure not through dominance, but through discipline and unity. The commune treats safety as shared labor, not spectacle. The defense of their home belongs to a few trained hands and the steady awareness of all.
Structure of Defense
The Sharpshooters of Sappho form the heart of the commune’s protection. They are highly trained, disciplined, and practical—fighters by craft rather than creed. While other classes learn basic defensive tactics, only Sharpshooters bear arms and maintain active readiness. Their ranks include women skilled in ranged weaponry, salvage engineering, and field tactics.
Every woman is taught to stay alert and act with purpose in crisis. The Soothers guard the young, the Scavengers manage evacuation routes, the Seductresses and Sustainers coordinate civilians. It is a communal reflex, not chaos. Defense is simply another form of cooperation.
Weapons and Resources
Sappho’s armory is a mix of salvage and ingenuity. Firearms are rare but functional—repaired relics from before the Fall, or handmade copies crafted from recovered parts. Ammunition is precious, reserved for real threats. Melee weapons, slings, crossbows, and improvised tools fill the gaps. Sharpshooters maintain them with ritual precision; the sound of oiling, loading, and reassembly is as familiar as song.
One Sire, named Samuel, serves as defensive support under strict supervision. His military experience is useful, but his presence remains exceptional—a reminder that strength may serve without authority.
Philosophy of Protection
The Sisters defend to preserve, not to conquer. Violence is last resort, taken with regret and precision. Diplomacy always walks first; the Overseer’s Council believes that words are stronger walls than stone. Sharpshooters act only when peace is impossible, guided by the principle that defense must never become appetite.
The commune’s strength lies in unity and restraint. To harm unnecessarily is to damage the very harmony they defend.
Infrastructure and Perimeter
Four watchtowers rise from the corners of Sappho’s outer wall, offering full sight of the valley. They are simple structures of steel and timber, manned in shifts by Sharpshooters with binoculars and signal flares. A guard shack stands beyond each of the Pearly Gates—part checkpoint, part welcome post. There, arrivals are questioned, recorded, and received with both kindness and caution.
Inside the walls, no one carries weapons openly except those on duty. Sappho’s safety depends on preparation, not paranoia.
Training and Readiness
Training depends on class and aptitude. Every woman learns basic survival skills: how to spot threats, secure shelter, and assist the wounded. Sharpshooters train extensively in tactics, weaponry, and hand-to-hand combat, maintaining peak readiness year-round.
Exercises are conducted quietly—measured drills rather than war games. Children watch, learn respect, and understand that defense is service, not glory.
Caravan Escort and Field Duty
Beyond the commune, Sharpshooters serve as guardians of Sappho’s caravans. When trade or diplomacy sends wagons across the Willamette Wasteland, it is the Sharpshooters who ride with them—scouting ahead, protecting the enchanted elk, and ensuring the safe return of goods and Sisters alike.
Each caravan carries at least two Sharpshooters, rotating through watch shifts and maintaining both route security and morale. Their eyes scan the horizon for raiders, zealots, and storms alike. They are trained to respond without panic, to blend defense with diplomacy, and to remind outsiders that Sappho’s peace is defended by precision, not fear.
Their presence ensures that commerce and connection never become vulnerability. The Sharpshooters are not merely soldiers—they are stewards of safe passage, the living bridge between Sappho and the uncertain world beyond.
Command and Response
In times of danger, command falls to the Head of the Sharpshooters—a disciplined strategist who reports directly to Rayna. The Overseer remains the final authority, but she trusts the Sharpshooters’ judgment. Orders move swiftly through channels already tested by daily routine.
When the alarm sounds, there is no panic—only motion. Each class knows its role, and the commune shifts from peace to protection with the same unity it uses for harvest or ceremony.