You are Sergeant Anya Nowicki, Retinue of Von Tracht, if only because the pay and benefits were better than just hiring on as a plain mercenary. The uniform was pretty cool, too, enough so that you wore it around everywhere, even when going drinking, like you were doing now. With a pair of pretty men. Not that either of them were your type beyond that, so it wasn’t like that, but hell if it wasn’t something to be a bit smug about anyways.

Earlier that night, you’d gone on a raid with one Captain Magnus Edelschwert, who commanded an company of the 12th Armored Cavalry battalion, with the moniker of “Blue Knights.” Miraculously, nothing had gone wrong enough for any severe losses to be taken, and after doing a hefty amount of damage to the Twaryians you had sped off into the night, the prisoners you’d rescued successfully extracted. It was exhilarating, and had made you feel like celebrating. Richter had been shaken out of bed and the Captain dragged along to a bar in Kamienisty. Edelschwert had insisted on one reserved for officers- better deals, apparently. It was a ritzy place, with dangling glass beads shining lights about all over, yellow and red lamps giving the place a warm feel, made warmer by the fireplacess on both walls flanking the main even, a bar that stretched out into a square in the middle of the room while a radio played the typical propaganda and news.

“Judge above, girly hair,” You said loudly to Edelschwert, a couple of glasses of brandy already in you, “Get something harder’n piss water, you may as well be drinkin’ fruit juice!” You brushed your fingers against his chest and he edged away, Put some hair’n your chest, why don’tcha.”

“I prefer more calm,” Edelschwert said without regarding you.

“Psh.” You grabbed his braid of charcoal-black hair and toyed with its end idly, “Friggin’ lightweight.” The braid was tossed over the Captain’s head to hang like a stupid tassel.

A turn to your left, where the man you were technically working for was keeping morose and quiet, like he’d been usually. Richter had been weird lately- he went away to have some sort of weird brain shit scraped off him, and…you didn’t think you liked how he had returned. He’d taken a beating lately, with a wound to the eye and another to his cheek and finger he’d taken the other night (you’d have to break Stache’s arm for that later, whether or not he was bullshitting), and on top of forgetting how to fight whatsoever/i], his disposition, his backbone, had melted away, only returning some when he got enough liquor in him. Otherwise, he stammered, he flinched, he acted just…wrong.

And you hated it. Yet he was still Hell’s nephew. Still a Von Tracht. Still part of what painfully little of Hell there was left in the world, so you had to protect him. Especially from his dumb ass self.

“Hey, Richter,” you tossed Edelschwert’s braid back as you shifted more over to Richter, “Drink your medicine.”

“…Mmm.” Richter sighed halfheartedly, slouching in his seat. “…Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, holy crap,” you muttered sorely, “Hey, tense up your arm,” you pinched Richter’s bicep in your hand, “I need to see if you’ve been slacking off.” Richter sighed at you, and you punched him. Another sigh, but then an acquiescing. “Not terrible, I guess,” you muttered to yourself as you ran your hand up and down the muscle under the leather jacket, “Still scrawny. Did ‘Stache really kick your ass? He didn’t have a scratch on him, and he’s as thin as you are.”

“…Don’t have to rub it in…” Richter half sputtered, half groaned, in a wussy series of noises that barely constituted a whine. It’d have made you mad if he was ugly.

“I said drink, retard,” you forced your glass to his lips and tipped the brandy into his face, before sliding the glass down the bar. You weren’t gonna get a taste of any of his spit if you could help it. “Barkeep!” you banged the fist of your good arm on the counter, “Two glasses of stuff that burns here! The fluffy headed dope can get a cherry in it!” Two glasses were given. Both with cherries in them, garnishes resting atop a thin layer of red syrup looking stuff at the bottom of glasses of otherwise proper clear spirits. “Hey!” The barkeep had left before you could give him a piece of your mind, so you focuses back on Richter, who was sulking again. “You trained with the Yaegir and the masked guy, yeah? That had to do something. Bit more of that and you’ll get some meat on you.”

“…Jorgen chased me around with an axe at me all day…” Richter said, “While Malachi either said nonsense or laughed. I’m not sure I learned anything…but they said I did…” He finally took a long, slow sip of his beer, “…Jorgen told me a story…for why he’s out here…he thought it was really funny…Malachi too…”

“Spit it out then, not like riding boots here is being too talkative.” With that snipe you lifted your drink’s cherry out and tossed it in an arc straight into Edelschwert’s beer.

“You are fortunate that your reserve of goodwill is still such as it is…” Edelschwert said with a cold glance. “Though I am interested. Yaegirs often return to their arboreal homelands, after all. Their culture does not consider a boy to have grown into a man until they have spilt the blood of an enemy, some tribes going so far as to need them to take a life in battle.”

“…Hmm…” Richter leaned on his wrist, then set his had back down like he was finished thinking. “…Ask him if you want to know…I wouldn’t be able to tell it…very well again…anyways…”

File: tcqscene156.png (453 KB, 800x867)

453 KB PNG

“Ask him if the thing they do for marriage is real.” You said, noticing that the glasses of paint thinner you had ordered were only a few fingers deep- you poured your helping into Richter’s. “The thing where, if a guy wants to get married to a girl, he breaks into the girl’s home and force himself on her. Except it’s alright or something, because if a Yaegir girl didn’t want it she’d kill you or whatever.”

“I believe what you are referring to is but a salacious rumor.” Edelschwert took another long, slow pull at his ale.

“…No, it’s true…” Richter stared away from his drink that had suddenly increased in volume, “…That’s what the story was about…the woman who he was going to marry…had a twin sister…”

That had to sink in a moment. “Pfffheheheh.” You snorted, “Snrrrrghhheeheahahaha, what a dope!”

“…It’s not that funny…” Richter was being awfully sore for some reason.

“Perhaps your acquaintance was making up a tall tale.” Edelschwert, trying to ruin the fun. “Sergeant, of all the things to note upon that culture, though, why that?”

“Ha, heh, uh,” you paused, “…No reason. Why?” Edelschwert stared at you. “What? Knock it off.”

“There are all sorts of curious characters in your company, Von Tracht,” the Netillian commander said to the air.

“Yeah, like your ass,” you snapped back haughtily. “Start talkin’ then, what’s your story? If Richter won’t talk about anything without being dragged out of him, and you keep your yap shut, I’m gonna have to start a fight or something.”

“Like you did at the briefing.”

“…She did what?” Richter’s attention was gotten.

“I said drink, fairy boy!” you grabbed Richter’s face and tugged it towards the bar counter, “God!”

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Edelschwert asked coolly, “Do you not want to..?”

>…Fine, if you were going to have to do everybody’s talking for them. (About what sort of thing?)
>You didn’t go telling your life story to just anybody. Ask him his instead. (With what sort of focus?)
>Start a fight.
>Other?

Past Threads are collected here: https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
Twitter for announcements and various horseshit is @scheissfunker

>>4052462
>>…Fine, if you were going to have to do everybody’s talking for them. (About what sort of thing?)
Talk about Anya's time in the Hogs I guess, probably one of the happier times in her life.
Also Judge above the next fortnight is going to be hell for Richter isn't it?

>>4052474
Supporting

>>4052462
My boy Richter is looking very miserable and unfortunately he has a lot of reasons to.
>>4052474
Supporting

>>4052718
I really really like this image.

>>4052462
>…Fine, if you were going to have to do everybody’s talking for them. (About what sort of thing?)
Talk about the Hogs. And how they could actually drink, unlike these pussies.

>>4052462
>…Fine, if you were going to have to do everybody’s talking for them. (Life with your sister. Life with the hogs. How you got your face scar.)

>>4052462
OMG Richter is in a bad way.

>Talk their ears off about how great Hell was.

>>4052474
>>4052591
>>4052715
>>4052754
>>4052907
>>4053124
Reminiscing on the past!

Writing.

>>4052718
Gonna croak.

>>4053220
Hey tanq what was the initial planned date for the invasion?

>>4054332
Which one ?

>>4054335
The one that Signy and the Ellowian Field Marshal are talking about above

>>4054332
You don't know beyond Signy's vague implication of "a few weeks" when she told you. That was almost two weeks ago.

I'll have an update soon, but if I don't, I'll post part of it now and the rest later.

>>4054348
Are you in college or work ?

>>4054363
Haha. Ha. No, I have a volunteer theater show I'm helping do effects for. However, I do have the full update coming now, very soon.

“…Fine,” you picked reached for your glass…and belatedly realized you’d sacrificed its contents, accepting it with a sigh and sucking the last few drops from it, “If you want to hear my life story, whatever. Best make yourself comfortable, though.”

“So long as it doesn’t require any of us to be deep in the bottle.” Edelschwert said like you couldn’t hear his smartass comment.

“I was born in some nothing town, in a shit hole country,” you led off, “We’ve all been in Sosaldt, right? Not exactly a good place to raise a kid, or two. Mom tumbled into the place a year before I was born. Never did much after getting there besides…get fucked or lay about in a drugged dreamland. Worst sort of whore. Never knew who made me with her, or my sister, Alina. She didn’t know how to do anything, besides taking money from people and letting them do things to her.”

Edelschwert gave you a cool glare. “That is hardly a proper way to speak of your mother of all people.”

A shrug. “Am I supposed to give her consolation praise? She fed and clothed me, I guess, and my sister. She was born…I dunno how long after. I didn’t really count years until after she came around.” Mother also sang you to sleep with lullabies, in the old way of speaking, as she said. She knew the words, but not what they meant. That wasn’t shared, though.

“…Did you ask your mother?” Richter asked, though you’d spoken about this matter with him before. “…How old you were…”

“She didn’t know.” She didn’t know a lot of things.

“…Oh…”

“We never had a lot of money. I guess it wasn’t so bad, really. Didn’t get what I wanted a lot, but who does?” Most of your early life was blurry now, except a few particular moments. “Then one day I found Mom dead in the garbage dump with her head beaten in. So I had to take care of Alina and myself from then on.” Alina had cried all night that day. Her image of what your family was had been far different from yours.

“Hold on a moment!” Edelschwert interjected, “You cannot simply brush on by that sort of matter. Was the perpetrator not caught?”

“Nope. People come and went all the time, and nobody’s gonna get chased wherever they went for a little thing like not wanting to pay for getting their dick wet.” You left it off there. Your mother stopped being whatever part of your life she’d been. You and Alina had been kicked out of the house enough so she could get screwed that you could take care of yourselves. Well, you could take care of yourself. “Then a couple years later-“

“How did you survive? Sosaldt is no place for orphans. They turn to banditry, and are usually fated for an early grave.” Edelschwert pointed this out matter of factly, and Richter seemed uncomfortable for a moment.

“Well, I didn’t do what my mom did.”

Edelschwert made a disgusted face. “Sergeant, please.”

“I stole shit and pawned it off to the next people who came through. So long as it’s not from your own people it’s alright.” Plenty of traders passed through on their way to Todesfelsen, which was decently close to your home then. “One day a guy came around with a camera. He saw Alina and I. My hair used to go all the way down my back, back then, so did Alina’s. That guy offered us a lot of money to cut our hair and give it to him, same for letting him take pictures of us. In fancy clothing.” He let you keep the clothes. You should have known it was too good to be true, but before those pretty clothes everything was either secondhand or stitched together from scraps. “Then a few months later three shit heads came and kidnapped my sister.”

“Unsurprising, for Sosaldt,” Edelschwert waxed, “Glockenblume, I presume.”

“They didn’t grab me, so, probably.” You might have been too old for them at that point. Glockenblume was in the trade of grooming children to the tastes of customers so they were perfect when they reached maturity. You might have been…twelve? Eleven? You really didn’t know. Or care. “I found out what way they went, they were good at what they did, but they were the only people in town. Easy enough to chase them.” If you were liked you could have gotten help. You knew better than to try and ask for it. Nobody would help a thief, a pickpocket, a whore born tramp like you.

“A small girl against three kidnappers does not bode well. Did you succeed?” Edelschwert asked.

“…I met her sister…in Sosaldt…” Richter said, neglecting to mention how he’d raided your town, shot it up, punched you in the face. To be fair, you would have done the same thing.

“Ah. So luck found you then. That’s good.” Edelschwert came to a conclusion far too quickly, and you laughed hollowly at that. “What?”

“Well, I wasn’t lucky. I tried to sneak into their camp and cut her free, but I got caught. I held off two of them while Alina tried to run away, and the third one started chasing her after a bit.”

“You held off two grown men as a child?”

If only. “…Fine,” you corrected yourself, “I cut one of their hands with a knife, so they stopped messing around and knocked me to the ground and kicked me half to death.”

“At least your sister escaped, yes?” Edelschwert asked.

“I didn’t know.” You hoped she had at the time, as you curled in on yourself, feeling boots kick and stomp on you until you could hardly twitch and not feel pain all over. Everything, whatever happened to you, it’d be alright if she got away. Realistically, you had to travel half a day to find these guys. Alina didn’t have your sense of direction, the survival instinct, she was a sweet girl who people liked. She couldn’t have made it back on her own, you knew deep down. “She was a little girl. I thought she had a chance when the other guy didn’t come back with her. Then the other slavers asked how a little girl had managed to run away from him, and he said she fell down a hill and cracked her head open on a pile of rocks. So they made up for the lost profit by deciding to sell me instead.”

When you’d heard that excuse the brigand gave, you had a temptation to not believe it. Why wouldn’t that be how it ended, though? With all your effort for nothing, with your sister’s head cracked open just like your mother’s? It wasn’t like you had been very fortunate or lucky up to that point. Yet it didn’t quite sink in until a few days later that you were alone in the world. You didn’t know Alina had survived until…a whole ten years later.

“…So eventually, Heller Von Tracht bought you, you said.” Richter tried to conclude things early, but you weren’t going to finish it like that.

“They carted me around a while. Had a rope tied around my arms and neck. I behaved well enough that I only had the neck rope after a bit. Nobody wanted to pay what they wanted for the trouble of getting me instead of my sister. Eventually we ended up in Gusseisenholz, and I figured, maybe I didn’t have to be a slave, maybe I could steal enough and make my own way. So the first thing I did when I met your uncle was pick his pocket.”

He was tall, handsome, strong, but gentle. When you crashed into him, he’d asked if you were alright, even though you’d stolen his wallet. He was obviously new to the place, since he had to ask his friend he was with about why you had a rope around your neck. That was Hell and Schweinmann. The pig man, with his big round belly and piggy face, tiny eyes and short fat snout of a nose, had noticed immediately when you picked Hell’s pocket, but you never found out if he’d have done anything about it, for what happened next.

“Hell made an offer to buy me.”

“…For how much..?” Richter asked.

You remembered as clear as yesterday what Hell had said. “Free. Then he marked it up to free, with a beating. Then he kicked the absolute shit out of all three of them.” It had been incredible to watch. He’d moved before they were ready, none of them managed to land a hit on him, and he threw them about like they were ragdolls. They couldn’t have stood a chance if it was five to one, ten to one.

“That’s not buying, now is it,” Edelschwert mused to himself over his beer. “Stealing from slavers is rather dangerous. Some of them are connected to powerful gangs.

“He didn’t care, and they weren’t anyways.” Schweinmann had admonished him for that at the time, for the same reason. Hell had a devil may care attitude about it. ”I wouldn’t be here if I could help myself,” he’d said. ”And you wouldn’t be either if you didn’t mind cleaning up my messes. Can’t stand to see cute girls getting wronged.” “So that’s how I got to Gusseisenholz, and the Hogs. They weren’t much at the time. Two tanks and barely enough people to take care of them.”

“Hogs?” Edelschwert repeated, “As in, the Iron Hogs?”

“…You know them..?” Richter asked.

“How would anyone go to Sosaldt and not?” Edelschwert demanded, suddenly excited, “Yet you said…you were related to Hell Gitt? Remarkable. What a strange confluence of fates to bring you together here.”

Thinking about Hell again, you couldn’t help but touch your neck under the ribbon you wore. You never failed to wear a ribbon. After all these years, your neck felt naked without one, and Edelschwert noticed the gesture.

“Pardon me for asking, but does that ribbon cover a scar or the like?” Edelschwert asked.

“Nah. I just like wearing it.” When Hell had taken that awful rope off your neck, it had been all burned and chafed underneath. Hell didn’t like it, so he took a ribbon and tied it around the rope burn on your throat. ”There. Isn’t she adorable, Schweinmann? Look at the little creampuff. She’s like a little present!”

“…Tell me about your time in the Iron Hogs…” Richter piped up with initiative for once, snapping you our of reminiscing. “…You didn’t talk much about it…before…”

“…Sure, alright.” You didn’t mind talking about that at all. “I mean, the first few years, I just wasn’t old enough, strong enough, didn’t know enough.” You didn’t know how to read or write or do math; Schweinmann taught you all that. Though you were a fast learner, and faster still, because you wanted to impress Hell. To tell him he hadn’t made a mistake by saving you. “The company grew, and so did I.”

You didn’t grow nearly as much as you liked, Hell was good at fighting and leading men, so the Iron Hogs grew. Two tanks became three, then five, then eight, then twelve. Vinny Vangheiss arrived with his team of Stormtroopers, and teamed up with Hell. Gusseisenholz took a contract for protection, and the tank force swelled more, as did everything attached to it. That was when Illger came around, and it didn’t take long for him to earn his reputation of being a cockroach- nobody could kill him no matter how hard he got stepped on. Vyzlin too, when the money was getting to the point where not even Schweinmann could handle it all. Holt, the Yaegir lady ranger and scout.

That wasn’t all mentioned, but it was remembered anyways. “Eventually, it’s time for Hell Gitt’s magnum opus. The Southern Cities, the Blood Suns, their allies, they make a bid to head north and make all a’ Sosaldt their country.”

“I have heard of this,” Edelschwert nodded, “The Battle of the Eisen River. Hell Gitt’s Iron Hogs drove into the heart of the Southern Cities’ mercenary army and obliterated its core, the army collapsing like a burned out house.”

It had been incredible, you had heard, but what you remembered most sorely, was all the tanks, all the fighters, everybody heading off to fight. While you were left at the base, to watch them go, without you. Not strong enough. Not skilled enough.

Yet the battle had been costly, and for all the prizes taken and the glory won, plenty of people had been lost too. “It was Hell’s best win,” you summed up, skipping over your vigil at the horizon, “But after that, it was finally my time. More crew was needed, and I was ready. So I got my black and blue tunic, and I was a driver.” Maybe you weren’t, but when Hell had gotten back, you refused to be blown off any longer. You wanted to be in the crews then and there. “First job was easy. Just went and looked scary. Then we went and got blackout drunk, and the Hogs could drink like they meant it…unlike you two! Sheesh, can you at least finish what you’ve got in front of you?” You pounded your fist on the counter, “I swear! I ain’t goin’ on until you bolt that down. Especially you, Richter!” You pushed his double helping of spirits further in front. “No more about it until you bolt that down!”

You didn’t expect Edelschwert to go any faster, and he didn’t but you felt pretty smug when Richter immediately knocked back the whole clear glass, though he left the cherry in there. “Pffaaacghk,” he coughed, “…What…what is this stuff? It’s awful…”

“It’s got cherry syrup at the bottom, doesn’t it?” you looked at the slow cascade of the thick red syrup back down the side, some of it clinging to the idiot’s lip. “For little girls like you?”

“…it’s pepper…it burns…Ghaaggchk.”

“Really? Cool! I’ve gotta get another thing of that, then.”

“…You need to…haghck…finish telling…about the Iron Hogs…and your scar…”

“This?” you pointed at your face, “I was almost there. Anyways.” You straightened up again and collected your thoughts. “So, yeah. My second job. That was where I got this. I told Richter about part of it, but not the whole thing.”

“…I didn’t…ghhhack…know it was only your second time out…”

“What time out did you get those, then?” you poked Richter in his cheek, where the faded scars of what must have been shrapnel were.

“…Maybe my…third or fourth battle..?” Richter had to think back.

“Adorable.” Back to the story. “It was a place not far from Gusseisenholz, out east more. Called Staubigbrucke. The whole company had to go, vets, newbies, everybody. A few gangs always competed for control of the place, but this time, one had gotten way stronger, and it was our job to restore the status quo. Too close to home for a rival to suddenly pop up.” The mayor of Gusseisenholz had put his foot down and offered a hefty sum on top of the normal protection commission to take care of it…or he’d find somebody else. With so much offered and the company’s future on the line if he didn’t spring for it, Hell took the Iron Hogs out, both veterans and newbies, into what would be an absolute mess.

You continued. “We went there and it was a mess. There wasn’t enough help to guide the tanks everywhere we needed to go, and the toons had to split to cover ground.” For you, it had been particularly stressful. Forward, back, fast, faster. It all blended together, and only being able to view the world through a small slit and being shouted at so much, your nerves had frayed to pieces. You didn’t think much of disobeying orders to move one time so you could pop out of the driver hatch just to see. “I popped my head out for just a moment to get my bearings one time. It was a mistake.” Your commander had been a Vitelian called Armazzio; a veteran fighter, though outside of fighting he spoke of nothing but utopianist babble. You should have listened to him for once when he ordered you to stay down. “One of the gangsters hopped up on the tank outta nowhere,” you traced your scar, “laid my face right open with a knife. I went right back down again, but my time fighting in that was over.”

Horrible, awful, burning pain, across your face. Blood running down your cheeks, and with horror, you realized, down through your nose, down your throat. You screamed and couldn’t hear yourself, your body froze up, and every word that was spoken to you flowed together. Your eyes shut tight, and you flailed against the hands that tried to grab you, to move you from your place, so that somebody else could take the driver position and get moving again.

“Yet that was how many years ago? And it is so…well…” Edelschwert hesitated.

“I’m used to it, girl hair, you can say it’s nasty.”

“Did a doctor not treat it? Close it properly?”

“They tried,” you shook your head, “The knife had some sorta venom on it. The wound wouldn’t close, not even with stitches. They could make it better, fix the inside of my nose alright, make the bleeding stop, but it wasn’t going away.”

“…Did anybody give you a bad time over it..?” Richter asked. He had been a pal about it when you asked his opinion on your scar. He seemed genuine enough when he said it made you look tough, and cool.

Hell had said the same thing after. In a way you liked a lot better. From a person you liked better. The reminder was still nice.

“Naw,” you answered the actual question, “I mean, not stuff that wasn’t banter. Schweinmann gave me a hard time, but not because of the cut, but…because of how I got it. He said I could have fucked over the whole crew because I fucked up. He had me apologize to the crew, the commander, to Hell…” You didn’t mention that you were crying your eyes out with all of them. Schweinmann knew how to say things in ways that stuck in like a dagger, but these guys didn’t need to know you could cry. You preferred the way they thought of you now. The way you had wanted Hell to see you.

There was also the fact that, while nobody in the Hogs ragged on you for a battle scar, when the bandages first came off and you saw yourself in the mirror, what it looked like, you couldn’t stop weeping for days. The one thing your mother had given you- some small measure of physical attractiveness, and it had been ruined. It was also a constant reminder of the mistake you’d made, at first, until Hell had told you something simple, but uplifting. That everybody made mistakes, that few people learned anything without making mistakes, and that the only thing you could do with a mistake was wear it proudly, and not try to hide from making any more. After all, he had said, he had made plenty of mistakes, big ones.

That was for you to remember, though, and not to tell.

“I got this other one here,” you pointed to a smaller scar just below the big one, on your cheek, “From a mortar bomb blowin’ up over my head, in an ambush. There’s one on my arm here too, where I took a bullet, not the one I got in Todesfelsen with Richter- here, help me get my jacket off, one a’ you…”

“…Anya, please, your arm…” Richter arrested your attempts to start disrobing.

“Fiiine,” you huffed, “Well, I think they’re cool…”

“Why are you not with the Iron Hogs any more, then?” Edelschwert asked.

“…” You paused. “…I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Was it because of Hell Git’s demise?” Edelschwert guessed. Far too good of one. “And here you are with a relation of his, if indeed Heller Von Tracht is the same person like the Coordinator implies. Yet you’re here now?”

>Somebody had to keep Richter’s ass out of the fire, didn’t they? You couldn’t repay the favor Hell did you by sticking around where he wasn’t.
>The Iron Hogs aren’t what they were anymore. It isn’t the same. You didn’t belong there anymore, so you left. Maybe you’d ended up where you were meant to now.
>Make up some bullshit tall tale- a creative way of saying you don’t want to tell. (What?)
>Other?

>>4054507
>>Somebody had to keep Richter’s ass out of the fire, didn’t they? You couldn’t repay the favor Hell did you by sticking around where he wasn’t.

>>4054507
>The Iron Hogs aren’t what they were anymore. It isn’t the same. You didn’t belong there anymore, so you left. Maybe you’d ended up where you were meant to now.

>>4054507
>Somebody had to keep Richter’s ass out of the fire, didn’t they? You couldn’t repay the favor Hell did you by sticking around where he wasn’t.

>>4054507
>The Iron Hogs aren’t what they were anymore. It isn’t the same. You didn’t belong there anymore, so you left. Maybe you’d ended up where you were meant to now.

>>4054507
>>The Iron Hogs aren’t what they were anymore. It isn’t the same. You didn’t belong there anymore, so you left. Maybe you’d ended up where you were meant to now.

>>4054507
>Somebody had to keep Richter’s ass out of the fire, didn’t they? You couldn’t repay the favor Hell did you by sticking around where he wasn’t.

>>4054507
>Somebody had to keep Richter’s ass out of the fire, didn’t they? You couldn’t repay the favor Hell did you by sticking around where he wasn’t.
>Other? "Besides, Richter might be a candy-ass now, but he's had a couple of moments that could come close to making Hell consider feeling proud."

I return.

>>4054531
>>4054543
>>4054757
You can't fit into that particular puzzle.

>>4054512
>>4054536
>>4054977
>>4055005
Your obligation is to family, not to business.

Writing.

Another drink of clear fire had been supplied to you at some point when you hadn’t noticed, and you wondered for a moment if you had another spectator to spilling your guts. Whatever. It was annoyingly full, so you had to work on that as you weighed a response. It wasn’t easy to say for sure. After Hell had died…it wasn’t like you didn’t have people you knew, had fought alongside, but it no longer felt like you belonged, especially after the change in management. There wasn’t any reason to stay any longer, so you’d wandered off to a place that would take you- the only other direction you knew, back towards Todesfelsen, back to that little town where you were born. There, Alina had been alive again, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t have given up on her so readily. If you were a bitch for doing so.

Yet Alina said you’d been gone for ten years. She’d found other people, made friends, as she didn’t have trouble doing like you. She was your sister, but…she didn’t need you like she used to, and it hurt.

So when another purpose came calling, you’d ridden along, to see where it would take you.

“You caught me,” you told Edelschwert after downing half your glass without even realizing it, “I couldn’t repay my favors to ol’ Hell sitting around in the dust, could I? Somebody has to keep Richter’s ass out of the fires he keeps trying to jump in. ‘sides,” you gestured at Richter with your glass and a smarmy, eyes half-closed leer on your mug, “He might be a candy ass, then and now, but he’s had moments that could come close to making his uncle consider feeling proud.”

It was ragging on Richter, and while it was funny how he rolled his eyes in annoyance, you had a feeling, from the way Hell talked him up, that familial love might make up the difference when it came to how pleased he was with him. Envious? Well, no, not in the usual way. Residual frustration at him just…not measuring up the same way.

“I think,” Edelschwert said, still the most sober out of all of you, annoyingly, “That your measure for where somebody can be proud may be marked too high.”

“Yeah? What make you say that?” Another quarter quaffed. “You know who we’re talking about here, don’tcha?”

“The expectation that every man of birth must be a legend was what toppled those who were worthy from the throne here, so long ago,” Edelschwert said, with some spite in his tone, “Even a king can be admired, I believe, for doing their best without malice.”

Oh, political talk. That wasn’t ever something you did well. Mostly because mercenaries usually got paid no matter what clowns were in charge, so what did you care? “Whatever. Hey, Richter, Grumpus is coming back tomorrow, yeah?”

“Grumpus?”

“…Her name for Lieutenant Von Metzeler…” Richter said, “…I don’t think you’ve met him. He’s away for some…business…” He thought some more, “…He’ll probably be back tomorrow. I don’t know when…at least the day after, at latest.”

“Speaking of business-“

“Shut up and drink until you aren’t even thinking of the word business,” you rounded on Edelschwert, “Or I’ll kick your ass!”

-----

…

…

…Oh, this wasn’t the officer’s club. It was in a cot, though, back at camp. That probably meant you didn’t get into a fight.

>You are still Anya
>You are Richter Von Tracht
And
>…Nevermind, you felt those bruises when you stirred.
>Whose uniform was this? (What sort?)
>Other?

>>4055402
>You are Richter Von Tracht
Time to go back to our boy and see how well he’d been doing
>Whose uniform was this? (What sort?)
It feels like a tight fitting and it has a different smell, the good type of.

>>4055402
>>You are Richter Von Tracht
>And
>>…Nevermind, you felt those bruises when you stirred.

>>4055402
>You are Richter Von Tracht
>…Nevermind, you felt those bruises when you stirred.
Ok boys, let's get back on the wagon.

>>4055402
>You are Richter Von Tracht
>Why are we holding someone's underpants again?

>>4055402
>>You are Richter Von Tracht
>>…Nevermind, you felt those bruises when you stirred.

>>4055473
Seconding for pantsu

>>4055423
>>4055473
Supporting this actually

You are Richter, and you...

>>4055433
>>4055449
>>4055490
Have been tenderized!

>>4055473
>>4055846
>>4055891
Are in uniform of something entirely different. And you have something you shouldn't.

>>4055423
Are sweat and gunpowder good.

Writing!

>>4056052
Well, gunpowder doesn’t matter to someone like us and I dunno about the sweat.[spoiler is he’s into that[/spoiler]

”Good job, Richter,” you thought to yourself as you rose up and felt around for the switch to the little lamp in your new subterranean quarters, “Maybe after another night you can’t remember you’ll spool time back to before your conditioning was removed.” Something had been clutched in your hand, and when you looked down to see it in the light, you sighed inwardly, seeing it to be black. Wait, though, caution returned as the underwear was laid out, that wasn’t what Anya’s underwear looked like. You ought to be ashamed of yourself that you’d know. Despite her boyishness, Anya did wear underwear for women. This fabric wasn’t as svelte, the pair was for quite a larger person…just who did these even belong to?

With a start you noticed your sleeves were forest-green. This was a Netillian jacket- where did you get this? At least it wasn’t as hard to imagine procuring somehow as this underwear. You hoped that this didn’t become a habit, as you put your boots back on and pushed your way out the door, once you’d made sure that Maddalyn’s scarf was in a safe place, folded up and stored away. Nine o’clock in the morning, by your watch’s measure- nobody had gotten you up. Must have been a slow, peaceful day for once. So far.

Up from the burrows you came into a bright, clear winter day, the bright white snow all about forcing your eyes into a squint. As you shielded your eyes and looked about, you felt a punch on your arm, and Anya strolled up by you. She was wearing…was that your jacket?

“Hey, I woke up with nothing on below the waist,” she said flatly, “You didn’t steal my knickers again, did ya?”

“…I…wha-“

“I’m fucking with you, dum-dum,” Anya’s face assumed that familiar sneering leer for a moment before settling back into neutrality. “This thing’s really cozy. I’m gonna keep it for a while.”

“…How did you get…” You glanced down at your own new apparel, “…How did I get…this…”

“I stole it off you, obviously,” Anya said like she was explaining that snow was cold, “I don’t think you could steal anything off Mag, so I bet he gave you his jacket himself.”

“…Mag…?”

“Captain Edelschwert. His name’s Magnus. I don’t think it fits him, but, eh,” Anya shrugged. “Hey, Grumpus got back here early. Came here with the Cockroach of all people, so that’s another tank with us. I guess Roach’s better than that splotch faced bitch.”

Ah. Von Metzeler was back. That was good…even if you were sure he was about as fit for battle as…well, you were. “…Where is the lieutenant…now..?”

“Went to hang out with Yva,” Anya waved over in the direction of the cottage, “He talked with ‘Stache for a good hour, but I guess ‘Stache didn’t want to be a cockblock. Anyways, you gotta fill out weekly requisition. I ain’t about to do it for you.”

“…Yeah, yeah…” you sighed. “…Nothing has happened while I was…both training and out…right..? That I wasn’t…told about…”

“A couple things,” Anya’s tone suggested it didn’t seem important, “Some shit about the Penals. They’re screwing around in the UGZ-09, and apparently, there’s been some desertions lately. If I were you, I’d expect to be bothered with that soon.” She started to walk off, but swung her foot out, then back, and turned around. “Hey. Do me a favor.”

You blinked. “…What sort..?”

“When you do requisition, ask for some weapons. Some crates full. Stuff we can have go missing.” Anya crept close and whispered, “The NLF are getting impatient. They want more help, or they’re not gonna trust us no more. They’ve started taking the Ashes as recruits.” She drew back again, face still set. “Help me out, and I won’t beat you for smacking my ass last night.”

“I didn’t-“ you said sharply, then thought, and tried to remember… “…It feels like you already did that…”

Anya screwed up her face. “Did I..? Whatever. Just…help me out, alright? I’d…uh, really appreciate it.” She had to cough that last part out, and slipped away before you could ask more, though you hadn’t thought of anything else at the moment anyways.

First off, the requisitions for next week. As you settled down into the office again, for what it was, you noticed a missive typed out from Edelschwert.

Coordinator,

Your subordinate’s invaluable assistance has been noted by the sector administration. I have had a portion of the bounty (equal to one half) for the destruction of enemy materiel and the rescue of significant persons allocated to your company. Inform your retinue that she is welcome to volunteer for further operations should she wish. If you can keep your hands to yourself.

-Captain Magnus Edelschwert, 1st Company, 12th Armored Cavalry

Damn it all. This had best be a joke, you thought grumpily, something Anya had planned with Edelschwert to make fun of you. Annoyance melted, though, when you saw the attached bounty- and presumably, local political clout.

>Requisition Income Boosted by 2 for local impact

>20 RP earned for Night Raid

Quite a lot, really- enough that you could ask for much more than usual. Or, perhaps, something unusual. If only you had this, and not the sniper with the magic eye wanting to kill you. Whatever nonsense had happened last night, at least you could forget about that for a time. Maybe you could forget about it for some time with this work, too, so long as you didn’t force the deadline itself out of your head.

>You have 31 Requisition points. Spend them how you wish.

Another notice- from the Battalion Headquarters. Apparently sometime in the coming week, the next few days, another platoon of green Ellowian recruits were set to join the company, apparently on recommendation from the High Protector. Six platoons…yeesh. Mixed companies, according to what you’d been briefed on when you first began advising this company, weren’t supposed to exceed a 3-2 ratio of Netillian to Ellowian troops. This would push you to half and half ratio, but then, the UGZ-09 “police” weren’t officially of the company, so they could be…overlooked, to be fair.

-----

>Infantry Platoon Upgrades:

New Model Machine Guns (3RP per platoon)- Replaces the W.dB 29 Neue-Machinengewehr equipment of the platoon with the newer and improved W.dB-Grunsen 30 Light Machine Gun- improving combat efficiency to a tune of +5 to general combat rolls.

Stormtrooper Spec Squad (6 RP per platoon)- Upgrades one squad in the platoon to be Stormtrooper spec- equipped with body armor and a greater proportion of submachineguns. This combination improves close quarters combat rolls by +10, and reduces damage taken in close quarters by 1.

Platoon Munitions Caster Team (3 RP per platoon)- Adds a munitions caster to the platoon command element, which reduces the defense bonus from fortifications to enemies the platoon fights, as well as improving its combat roll by +5.

Self-Loading Rifle Armament (8 RP per platoon)- Replaces the basic bolt action rifle armament with self-loading Grunsen Model 1930 Automatic rifles. Improves all combat rolls by +10.

>Basic Equipment (8 RP)- Makes a unit combat capable. Unlocks access to other upgrades.

Company Additions-

Anti-tank Section (7 RP)- Adds a section of Anti-tank rifleman and their supporting elements

Anti-tank Gun Detachment (14 RP)- Adds a platoon of light 2.5cm anti-tank cannon, able to be man transported or hitched to utility cars (cars not included).
Munitions Caster Section (7 RP)- Adds a section of 4 munitions casters spread across two teams to the company’s roster.

File: 5th1stcompanyweek4_7.jpg (579 KB, 1500x1500)

579 KB JPG

>Other Upgrades- Other things not listed may be requested, of course, but note that things that a light infantry company isn’t meant to have will likely cost quite a bit more.

Cavalry Scout Section (8 RP)- A section of mounted soldiers. Relatively archaic, but nevertheless useful.

Motorcycle Scout Section (10 RP)- A light motorized element commonly used in motorized units, but that has been spreading in prevalence with the new importance placed upon patrol of territory.

2-ton General Transport Trucks (12 RP)- Light Infantry are not meant to use motor transport, but Netilland has made trucks a priority production for its army. Perhaps you could obtain some, though at a premium…(Grants five trucks, able to transport a full platoon- as well as other things)

Extra Fuel (1 RP per additional unit- increase Fuel Weekly Allotment by 1 per 3 RP)- Fuel is in relatively short supply beyond what is allocated, though perhaps you can convince some people to part with more…

>Miscellaneous:

Extra Armaments (8 RP per platoon’s worth of equipment)- Spare equipment to rearm a platoon completely, or arm a new platoon, or mercenaries. Netillian commanders utilizing private troops is an uncommon but not unheard of privilege, and this requisition does not raise eyebrows in and of itself…

Specialized Requisitions (RP Variable- though double of what might be expected if it is unusual for the unit type)- In the border zone, as time has gone on, the individual initiative allowed to commanders has led to flexibility in requisitions. With enough money and clout, the Border Zone could allow many things…

>Platoon Reorganization

If a platoon takes enough casualties (Officially, if it is reduced to 50% , it can be officially written off and the company reorganized, the manpower either distributed to other platoons or sent back into reserves. Just a note for the future, potentially.

File: 5th1starmordetachment.jpg (281 KB, 1200x823)

281 KB JPG

Present tank complement as well.
I know I described Anya in the jacket and didn't post it, I'm working on it, figured I should put this vote up first.

>>4056407
If it isn't from Anya, than who ?
>inb4 it's from Magnus

>>4056415
>Week 4
Judge preserve our boy.

>New Model Machine Guns (3 RP per platoon)
For 1st and 2nd Platoons
>Self-Loading Rifle Armament (8 RP per platoon)
For 1st Platoon
>Extra Armaments (8 RP per platoon’s worth of equipment)
For Anya

That leaves us with 9 RP to spend.
Now, I would like to see an Anti-Tank Section added.
Given the current...circumstances however, if anyone has any ideas on equipment that might help us in our battle against Bertram I'm all ears.

>>4056569
Supporting. Man, I really can’t thing of anything that might help besides some protection

>>4056418
>Extra Armaments
>Anti-tank Gun Detatchment
>Anti-tank Section
>Extra Fuel x2

Does the company already have some trucks attached to it, or were those temporary?

>>4056618
Not for infantry use. They're fuelers, mostly. Utility cars are loaned/dispatched from the sector command.

>>4056415
>New Model Machine Guns (3RP per platoon)
>Stormtrooper Spec Squad (6 RP per platoon)
>Platoon Munitions Caster Team (3 RP per platoon)
>Self-Loading Rifle Armament (8 RP per platoon)

All of it, and it is important, goes to the 4th Platoon. Shit is going down soon, and out Netillian platoons will turn into our enemies. No sense arming them.

>Give the 5th Platoon's old rifles to the 5th, then "lose" the 5th's Twaryian ones.

>Increase weekly fuel by 2, cause we have more tanks now (6 RP)
>Fuel reserve (5 RP)
>0 RP left.

>>4056670
>Give the 4th Platoon's old rifles to the 5th

>>4056415
3RP for 2nd platoon replenishment
7RP Anti Tank gun section
8RP Extra Armaments
6RP increase fuel allotment
2RP extra fuel
That is 26RP used up if I can do simple math, so that leaves 5 RP to requisition supplies to fight Bertram. For those supplies I would want: one self loading rifle with telescopic scope and flare gun with flares(assuming we don't have one already), extra uniforms, helmets, and any other material we do not have to build vaguely convincing decoy soldiers, and a tree tap that can get some Kalamarz sap.

The play here is pretty simple, have our platoons set up decoy soldiers around the border zone, especially the area we will be dueling at. Hopefully Bertram sees this, so he knows there will be decoys when we fight him. Then when we duel we find one of the dummies to cover in blood, or something else presencey, and we cover ourselves in spooky tree sap to mask our own presence, wait until Bertram takes out the decoy and comes over to gloat/confirm the kill and boom, Hells your uncle. If we fuck up the flare gun is so we can shoot it at Bertram to blind him a bit and run away, or to signal to our mortar team to start shelling the forest. We don't have to do that last part though.

>>4056618
>>4056936
There'll be an Ellowian uprising in a couple of weeks. If we intend to help NLF, all those AT armaments will end up shooting at our own tanks.

>>4056418
3RP replenishment (priority for restoring 1st 3rd and 4th Platoons to full strength)
8RP Extra Armaments (Then give those Twaryian rifles to the NLF)
6RP 2x New Model MGs
3RP 1x Platoon Munition Casters Team
6RP Weekly Allotment+2
2RP 2 Extra Fuel
3RP left over for our personal stuff

Some thoughts:
Honestly the AT rifle section looks pretty useless IMO; considering the type of armour being thrown at us by Gerovic those aren't going to do jack against say T-16s

Secondly I get from this Ellowian invasion the only party going to benefit in the long run is the Twaryians. Let the Netillians and Ellowians beat the shit out of each other and pounce on the weakened victor.

>>4057057
Oh yeah tanq so are we getting any temp replacement for Kelwin?
Also I think we should also pay that Spout Market a visit to see if there's anything useful against Bertram beside our own personal requisitions.

>>4056418
tanq, is it true that some casualties slowly return? Especially if they were injured like 2nd Platoons LT?

>>4056670
Mostly supporting but I want to bring up two points:
1: Lose the stormtrooper spec,I dunno how helpful it will be if it's just for 1 squad as opposed to the whole 4th and we need it for:
>Anti-Bertram gear.
Specifically: Mines to go along with >>4056936 decoy plan perhaps.
That and Richter is awful with guns, best case we can get him a submachine gun or shotgun so he's nice and close with better odds of hitting something. Plus it gives us some spending money on magical crap that might give us an edge. Oh Emma, where art thou?

2: We must always assume that Bertram is watching. He has nothing but time and vantage points to spy on Richter. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one secretly ordering Anya drinks in the bar. She's also probably a target now. Hell, we may even want to try to get him into camp to talk with him more if he will listen. Doubtful.

>Platoon Reorganization
When 2nd Platoon inevitably gets pissy about not getting reinforcements or gear we tell them that they are staying off fighting assignments until the situation stabilizes a little bit. Or gets a lot worse.
Sort of agree that we shouldn't be giving the Netillians anti-tank gear. Our tanks ARE the anti-tank gear. Ones that we control entirely.

>>4056670
Supporting this

>>4057057
Supporting this
As for >>4056936 was thinking maybe we can get Richter a ghillie suit and smear sap on top of the foliage. His actual hunting skills besides shooting is still there after all so that should give him some stealth at least

>>4056670
Suddenly giving 4th Platoon all the new equipment may raise suspicions though. Plus until the uprising actually happens we still have the Twaryians to worry about so we probably still need to spread stuff out through the company first

>>4057131
Nothing suspicious here, 3rd and 4th are our least depleted platoons and 3rd already has toys.

>>4057134
Just want to point out none of the upgrades are actually permanently attached to any platoon. tanq has allowed us to attach them to any platoon that we've sent out so far.

>>4057136
It's still better to have the guys trained with the new equpment

Man, I kinda drifted away when luftpanzer lasted way longer than planned and only recently began catching up. I just finished 52 where you guys used chemo to turn richter into pudding.

Absolutely amazing, I love it. It's gonna be a ride to see how the fuck you got him back to the battlefield without turning it all into a sitcom

>>4056936
>Literally reenacting the ending of Predator with tree-sap instead of mud
I love it

I'll be counting up everything soon, just here to say I'm alive and address a few questions.

>>4057120
>tanq, is it true that some casualties slowly return?

Yes, though it's not a reliable or steady method. It's just to represent anybody coming back from the hospitals without being written off and sent back to reserves. Probably sooner than they should.

>>4057075
>Oh yeah tanq so are we getting any temp replacement for Kelwin?

I believe that option was passed up on initially. You don't technically have to request a replacement, though you'll have one assigned eventually whether you like it or not. It may be prudent to see if you can recommend anybody for promotion or look for a friend rather than getting a stranger from the Netillian heartlands.

>>4057120
>1: Lose the stormtrooper spec,I dunno how helpful it will be

This wasn't specifically asked, but since it was mentioned for trying to fight somebody likely armed with a rifle, the body armor used by the stormtroopers isn't effective against rifle caliber rounds, especially the relatively oversized 8mm rifle rounds that are popular in Sosalian armies. It is effective against pistol caliber rounds and fragmentation, however.

>>4057926
Glad to have you back. Hopefully what's happened will be to your...well, I don't know about liking, enjoyment, I guess?

File: tcqscene157.png (500 KB, 594x900)

500 KB PNG

Anya thinks she looks better than you do in this jacket. Despite being a few sizes too big.
I should just start giving myself hard time limits for these drawings. Anyways.

>>4056569
>>4056612
>>4056618
>>4056670
>>4056936
>>4057057
>>4057120
>>4057121
>>4057123
So tallying this all up will be messy.
There's nine votes here, unless I missed any, so I'll work it like this. Since leaving things off I'll count as a vote against, anything tallied up that's five or more should go through.

On week rollover you get another 3 RP- that's not part of current resources though.

>New Model Machine Guns (3 RP per platoon) I I I I I l
>Self-Loading Rifle Armament (8 RP per platoon) l l l
>Extra Armaments (8 RP per platoon’s worth of equipment) l l l l l l l
>Anti-tank Gun Detatchment l
>Anti-tank Section l l
>Stormtrooper Spec Squad (6 RP per platoon) l
>Platoon Munitions Caster Team (3 RP per platoon) l l l l
>6RP increase fuel allotment l l l l l
>2RP 2 Extra Fuel l l l l l
>Platoons Replenishment l l l

Of course, for a few of these, there was position location too. More votes were for getting 2 sets of MGs, but there was also discussion on at least making sure 4th platoon has a set.

There's also the subject of the extra armaments, which will be officially to equip 5th Platoon, and then their former equipment of captured origin can mysteriously vanish.

So what'll be gone with is this-

x2 New Model Machine Guns (6 RP)
x1 Set of Spare Armaments (8RP)
x2 Fuel Allotment Increase (6 RP)
x2 Extra Fuel (2 RP)

Which will leave you with 9 RP. I thought of lowering the threshold to 4 for the munitions casters, but eh, if those are wanted they can be bought with your present amount anyways.

As for other things, I'll repost the Individual Requisition catalog shortly, in case you want anything from that weaponswise rather than either going to the Sprout Market as suggested, or trying to look around in general.

If I'm wrong on my counts feel free to point it out, of course.

And a repost of Individual Requisition Catalog, with handguns exempted.

(1RP) Grunsen Model 1930 Automatic- A weapon revived by the Netillian arms manufacturer Grunsen for trials to decide a new military rifle; though the W.dB 30 won these trials for its ease of manufacturing, the Grunsen was a curiosity reborn and is in limited production. It is a semi-automatic rifle with an unusual twenty round drum magazine, though the guns commonly have ten round box magazines. A modification of a project that converted straight pull rifles to ad hoc machine guns, and the whole thing is quite heavy, although its stockiness gives it durability.

(1RP) Messer-Naukwerk "Elk" Autoloader-A commercial automatic hunting rifle that loads from a tube magazine, the Netillian Army bought a not-insignificant number of these weapons as part of military buildup. Although uncommon, they can be found with some units being used by NCOs or similar important individuals trusted with better armament.

(3RP) Kalsre Model 1932- A very new rifle from Rourmark weapons manufacturer Kalsre Firearms, with an automatic action that fires quite a powerful round, made for mountain warfare. Long, heavy, and generally regarded as cumbersome, but there is no better rifle for a marksman armed with it as its 8.5mm rifle magnum round (must be specially ordered) has exceptional power and ballistics, guaranteeing accuracy, especially if combined with the normally included 2x Magnification optical sight.

(1RP) Messer-Naukwerk Model 1925 Submachinegun-A slightly aged but reliable design, it has a relatively low fire rate for a submachinegun that makes it very controllable even when firing at full automatic. It uses a drum magazine that carries forty five rounds, or a stick magazine that carries twenty five. Strossvald's standard submachinegun, as a side note- Nauland purchases Naukland manufactured variants to fill the demand for weapons where its own industry is catching up.

(1RP) Mies & Peysson Double Barrel Hunting Shotgun- Hunting weapons, either modified or unmodified, not officially issued but finding their ways into armories nevertheless. Cut down versions are popularly used as assault weapons when there is a lack of submachineguns. Underequipped units also sometimes find themselves using such odd armament, usually out of being purposefully ignored or throttled for gear, rather than there being an actual lack of replacement weapons. Non-military usage by officials in recreation such as hunting, as well as a strange fondness for these weapons, has caused custom-made high quality examples of these guns to show up in the catalog.

(1RP) MG 25N-A clone of the Kronerwerke MG24B used by the Grossreich of Czeiss still for its sturdiness and reliability, it was the standard light machine gun of Netilland until the start of the Armament Optimization Program. It shares the title of primary squad automatic weapon with the W.db 29 (The present standard LMG- most of your companies' machine gunner armaments, save the upgraded ones, which use the W.db 30). It loads from the top, and its thirty round magazine, while ensuring portability, means that its time firing is limited without a ready assistant.

(1RP) Kronerwerke Model 1914 KarRifle- A semiautomatic rifle with a five round magazine, first seeing service in the closing of the Emrean War before being improved upon and standardized near two decades after. While the Reich's main service rifle is not officially used outside of it, some independent gunsmiths have taken to copying it and producing it for interested parties. As the Reich is at the forefront of military technology, there are more of those than one might think.

I have managed to not feed myself yet today, so I will abscond briefly to make myself something, then I will get an update out before I have to leave for the evening.

>>4058171
Just to clarify do we need to re-vote how to spend the remaining 9 RP?

>>4058184
I won't require it. After all, there's no time you aren't allowed to spend RP- it's just that in times besides the beginning of the week you have to wait some for it.

That said, it is there, so if you want to try and push for what to do with the rest of it, go ahead.

>>4058218
Alright then:
3 RP for Munitions Casters
3 RP for replenishment
Then the remaining 3RP we keep. Plus our income this week that should give us 6 RP to spend on personal stuff if (when?) anons want stuff.

>>4058233
>>4058218
I can support this, but I would also want to spend an extra 1RP on the Messer-Naukwerk "Elk" Autoloader. I think it’s better to practice shooting with the gun we take to the duel sooner, so I think we should make that decision here. Also it is a hunting rifle, so hoping against hope there might be some muscle memory from using it in the past.

As you prepared the weekly requisition forms for filing, you made sure to add a request for the spare arms of a whole platoon along with the things actually needed. According to what you remembered of the briefing for the duties of coordinator, the Netillian Defense Council didn’t frown on privately commissioned soldiers- so long as the Kommissariat cleared them, in the case of actual officers of the army. Not ones to turn down willing manpower, the authorities would be happy to release arms with the understanding that, despite the official nature of being used to replace sudden and unexpected losses in materiel, the weapons would fall into the hands of those that would use them for the country, anyways.

You intended to replace the armaments of the “5th platoon” with these, before, helping the NLF (and Anya) out a bit by “losing” the weapons the platoon initially had, which were confiscated Twaryian weapons prepared in the unrest at New Jorgenstohn. Unrest that had been thankfully quelled without incident. Two sets of new model machine guns, the set of spare armaments, oh, and you wanted more fuel- both weekly and at the start of this next one. More could be squeezed from Requisitions, you bet, but that was all you wanted for now.

Planning for the future was nice when death loomed just in the metaphorical bushes beside you.

What next, what next…well, there was getting back with Von Metzeler, meeting with the other Iron Hog…a check at their paperwork told you he was Lieutenant (cute of mercenaries to assign ranks, it must have been an artifact of Hell’s army days to assign them) Karol Illger, with no mention of Anya’s preferred name for him, of course. The tank he brought had been identical to Eakova’s, though his trucks had survived the journey- they were apparently for supply. The Field Workshop truck had been a tragic casualty of an attempt to ambush you a week earlier.

Arranging a meeting with Illger would be simple, but Von Metzeler…was currently socializing with Yva. Should you go meet with him anyways, you wondered. See how they were going along? Keep the soulbinder from getting a hold on your second in command’s vulnerable mind? Or would Von Metzeler anger at your presumptions?

Yet your camp wasn’t the only one to get in order. News had come of developments with the Penal troops to the west, both in the UGZ-09 and out of it. In the UGZ, some penal troops had apparently been getting into standoffs and scuffles with the local Ellowian police- your “5th Platoon.” Nobody had died, but a few fights had broken out and one time was dangerously close to having weapons drawn. Naturally, the leader of the Penal Battalion company involved blamed belligerence on the “upstart” Ellowians who had been “irresponsible” granted new authority. Representative Rumell had sent a note saying that the Penal soldiers had been abusing citizens of the UGZ, particularly women. As usual. They were also, according to the representative, engaging in enabling underground drug trade and prostitution. Attempts by the Police (Platoon) to investigate further and perhaps put a stop to things had resulted in them getting stonewalled.

Both accounts could have been true. The other matter only had one account warning of it- directly from the Penal Battalion command, as a general message to all in the area. Apparently a few squads of Penal soldiers managed to slip out and go absent without leave, including a Lieutenant who had been freshly assigned. The request was to recapture them- or eliminate them. There was no preference in the method of disposal, as Penal Soldiers who abandoned their penitent duties were condemned to death by the state. You recalled that their families, though left unmentioned, would also be dealt with, if they had any relation. Fairly sizable (and disproportionate) bounties had been placed on the delinquent penals- especially on their officer, a Lieutenant Udebert Machen- as was typical both to incentivize their capture, as well as dissuade desertion.

Such was the news of the day. Were the Judge merciful perhaps Gerovic would be distracted from you for a time, perhaps even moving eastward, where Anya had helped Edelschwert deal quite a blow to an unsuspecting Twaryian armored cavalry company. None of this was particularly pressing-yet. They were matters that could develop poorly should they remain unaddressed, but you couldn’t help but want to focus on ensuring your own future survival. Engaging in more training, planning, procurement of goods to use in your advantage in the coming duel, for the absolute best chance you could get at surviving it.

…Though you supposed you did have all the coming week…

>Choose what to handle first today
-----
>Meet with the new arrivals. (Von Metzeler and Illger- or exempt one to focus on the other, perhaps.)
>The situation in the UGZ-09 had to be resolved. It probably wouldn’t make you new friends, but you either wanted to avoid a conflict, or at least, be the one to strike the first blow.
>Find out more about the situation with the escaped Penal troops- perhaps there was opportunity there. (For profit, or for something else..?)
>Other?
Also, you still have 9 RP- any discussion on what to do with that, if anything, shall continue with this vote.

>>4058355
>Meet with the new arrivals. (Von Metzeler and Illger- or exempt one to focus on the other, perhaps)
Meet both but if Metzeler is still busy with Yva then just talk to Illger first. There's definitely have a ton of stuff we need to update him about.
Also supporting >>4058316 to get that Autoloader.

>>4058171
>That picture
Damn Anya needs a nap.
Also damn since when were her eyebrows so big? She about to give old Signe a run for her money.

>>4058355
>The situation in the UGZ-09 had to be resolved. It probably wouldn’t make you new friends, but you either wanted to avoid a conflict or at least, be the one to strike the first blow.
Let Metzeler enjoy his time back how he wants to. He will probably come to find us ourselves later on.
I want to get all the business out of the way so we can focus on training, something we should probably tell Rondo about when he gets around to us.

>>4058355
>>Meet with the new arrivals. (Von Metzeler)
I think our best chance to survive the duel is to ask von Metzeler to try convincing Yva to help us again. Hopefully when she sees how bad off he is she'll feel worse for us, and von Metzeler can also vouch for us being a good person and how much worse off everyone would be if we were gone (hopefully). So first off we should see how he's doing, explain to him that we're going to be murdered in a week, and ask for his help. He has a week to week to wear down Yva's resistance but the sooner he gets started the better.

>>4058355
>The situation in the UGZ-09 had to be resolved. It probably wouldn’t make you new friends, but you either wanted to avoid a conflict or at least, be the one to strike the first blow.
>>4058473 Sounds like it's worth a shot to try at some point soon, but maybe not right away. Better to let Von Metzeler fall back in on his own and approach us when he's settled, imo.
Also supporting >>4058316's suggestion to purchase the hunting rifle
Also also, keep a mental note open to try and find out where we "acquired" this random underwear from, god damn.
>>4058171
Cute stressed puff

>>4058355
>Meet with the new arrivals. (Von Metzeler and Illger)
Also >>4058316

>>4058355
>Meet with the new arrivals. (Von Metzeler and Illger- or exempt one to focus on the other, perhaps.)

>>4058355
>Meet with the new arrivals
We need status report on Metzeler. We don't have any tank commanders to spare.

>>4058392
>>4058473
>>4058497
>>4058503
>>4058739
A host must needs see to their guests.

>>4058429
>>4058485
The Ugz boots.

>>4058233
>>4058316
>>4058485
>>4058497
Procure Platoon Munitions Caster, and 3 RP Replenishment.

Writing.

>>4058400
>Also damn since when were her eyebrows so big?

I thought they were the same as ever, then I looked back over time.
I please the fifth.

A few more matters added to requisition, as you thought. A munitions caster team for a platoon, replenishment of casualties…apparently, Lieutenant Abetz had sent a message early this morning saying he’d come back with the healthiest company members who had been wounded. It would fill up the rest of 2nd platoon, tying everything up nicely. The last matter was a personal one, concerning arming yourself for the coming duel. Yes, your shooting skills had rotted into garbage, but that was no excuse to skimp on equipment. The piece that had caught your eye in personal requisitions was a Messer-Naukwerk gun, the same company that designed several weapon in Strossvald, as your memory served. For what good it was for information on weaponry. This rifle was an automatic loader, a fancy hunting rifle in origin, but procured en masse by Netilland because of its semiautomatic capability and five round capacity. As a hunting rifle, accuracy was still a necessity. Expensive? Perhaps if you were buying it with your own money. Necessary? Insofar as you needed every advantage you could get.

While finishing up with your requests, you thought about how you needed to get Anya a new gun, as per agreement of a past contest you lost. The idea that had come was to get her a machine gun, heavy and bulky…yet if she were to adapt to it and attempt to master it anyways, that would be so much the better, even if the opportunity to poke fun at her size would flounder.

Requisitions done. The folder was handed off to the first staff officer you found, before you made a point of going to address the newcomers first…after a healthy half-flask of liquor was downed so that you could speak a sentence without pausing. The Fear made it so difficult to concentrate, to the point that your own body had trouble obeying you at times. It was far less a hassle when alone, when indoors, but when speaking to another person? Half the time you were pausing and staring like an idiot. That wouldn’t do at all if you were about to speak with the newly arrived mercenary officer.

That would be the priority, even if you were more interested in Von Metzeler for several matters. He hadn’t woken you up to speak with you, so he likely didn’t feel a particular priority. Let him talk with his…whatever Yva was. Maybe it was hypocritical to imply that when you so disliked implications about you and Anya, but no soulbinder was above suspicion. At the very least, it would be more pleasant to start with speaking with a human this early after waking up.

Illger was a gangly, boney man whose uniform hung loosely upon him. Combined with his long, greasy black hair, he had quite the bedraggled look about him. Despite his apparent penchant for nearly getting killed, or being suspected of being dead, his face bore not a mark on it. Perhaps his unflattering nose, sticking out of his face like a broad knife had been rammed through the back of his skull, was punishment enough on that front.

“Hey, buddy!” Illger was surprisingly friendly, though it wasn’t like you had any clue as to his character. Anya had known him for years and didn’t seem to think anything of it. “Why’d you go and ditch us, man?” He gestured to your eye, “Man, I’m glad Eakova caught up to you. If you’d been seriously hurt, Cyclops would’a ripped up the contract. She doesn’t have to know about this though, right? And hey, I won’t rag on you too much, we’re here well enough, right?” Illger had a grin on that was awfully suspect. “Though uh, since we’re friends, you wouldn’t mind if,” he leaned close to you ear, “Can you lend me some money? The pay goes to the company, and all-“

“Hey Cockroach!” Eakova walked up beside Illger, and yanked him away. “He’s supposed to pay us, what the hell are you trying to go and owe him money for?”

“That’s not the proper way to talk to your commanding officer, is it?” Illger asked, trying to brush off Eakova, “What happened to the Field Workshop, huh, Red Britches? What’re we gonna do if we get a breakdown, hope the Netillians’ve got parts for the cracked up mods that Smitty stuffed these full of?”

“…I just wanted to check on you people, see if there’s anything that needs to be taken care of…” you managed to get in between while Eakova was searching for a response.

The redheaded Twaryian made a face, and sniffed in your face. “…Little early to be drinking, isn’t it, skinny?” She blinked, and swore under her breath for some reason.

“…Better this way, trust me. Lieutenant Illger? Is there…anything you want to report..?”

“Not really. What do you think of my offer?”

“Shut up, Roach,” Eakova interrupted Illger’s attempts to borrow money off you, “Hey, uh, Lieutenant Von Tracht, right?”

“Uh oh,” Illger leered at Eakova, then you, “She wants something.”

“I said shut up!” Eakova whirled on her superior and pushed him away. “Hey, so, uh, your guy that just came back…”

“…Lieutenant Von Metzeler..?” It couldn’t have been anybody else, but you had to confirm.

“Yeah, yeah, see, I asked around about him, heard some things-“

“…Didn’t you call him retarded..?” you recalled her language quite clearly.

“I-I call everybody names, I didn’t mean it,” Eakova hastily waved that concern away, “He’s your friend, right? Look, I mean, I know I’m not much to look at, but, that don’t mean I don’t got it, right? Set me up. Help me out.”

“…” You squinted at Eakova. “…I don’t get it…”

“And you criticize me for asking for money,” Illger grabbed Eakova’s shoulder and pulled her away. “At least I’m not asking for a wingman.”

“I’ll pay you back, alright?” Eakova wasn’t to be dissuaded, “I’ll uh…I dunno, I’ll think of something, or you think of something.”

>…No. You weren’t about to try and pair your second in command with a mercenary, let alone one in your technical employ. Utterly ridiculous.
>You’d be paid back? Maybe it could be arranged…(For what “payment,” and how?)
>Tell her that she’s not his type. He prefers glasses. And long hair.
>Other?

>>4059706
>Tell her we already have tried to set him up once and he didn't like it.
>Wish her luck
>Tell her that he prefers glasses. And long hair.

>>4059736
+1

>>4059706
>…No. You weren’t about to try and pair your second in command with a mercenary, let alone one in your technical employ. Utterly ridiculous.
We didn’t forget how you treated us, bitch. Say “no” politely and tell her to think of her words better.

>>4059706
>I don't understand, what is the "it" that she supposedly has?

>>4059794
Care to explain ?

>>4059706
>…No. You weren’t about to try and pair your second in command with a mercenary, let alone one in your technical employ. Utterly ridiculous.
>And she's not his type anyway. She should try coming back with either a bookworm look or a stick up her ass.

>>4059834
She said she's "got it" but she never said what "it" is and she still hasn't said what she wants us to help her with or what it has to do with von Metzeler. Why do women have to be so confusing?

>>4059940
>She should try coming back with either a bookworm look or a stick up her ass.
Doesn’t she already has the stick ?
>>4059944
Yeah dude. After learning about him, she went from calling him a tard to wanting his D. Life isn’t fair.

>>4059736
>>4059740
Good luck...

>>4059743
>>4059940
...with jumping in a well.

>>4059794
Unsure if it's a put down or no.

I don't have rehearsal tonight so I'll roll this off in half an hour, even if I'd rather not for this particular thing.

>>4060861
To make things faster do us, I’ll change mine to
>Tell her that she’s not his type. He prefers glasses. And long hair.
But keep my comment about her need to choose her words better next time.

>>4060861
>Unsure if it's a put down or no.
It is

>>4060884
Alrighty then.

Writing.

“…You have it going on..?” you tilted your head and put your hand on your chin.

“Huh?” Eakova looked confused, “I mean, you know, I’ve got a decent figure, don’t I?”

“…I know what you meant. I just don’t see it…”

“Oh, go to hell,” Eakova rolled her eyes, “Will you help me or not?”

Frankly, you questioned your ability to play matchmaker. Hilda hadn’t taken well to Von Metzeler when you tried to divert her attention. Though Von Metzeler hadn’t refused, and to put it gently, Eakova wasn’t nearly as…you hesitated to call Hilda ugly, it was cruel even if it was true. Homely? Eakova wasn’t as homely as Hilda had been, and Von Metzeler hadn’t minded trying to entertain her. Though Hilda either smelled pity and reacted poorly to it, or the barriers she threw up at people had tested Von Metzeler’s patience too much.

“…I don’t think he’s your type…” you went straight for the blunt and honest route, “…I don’t feel very motivated to be your in when you’ve done naught but insult me…though I’ll say that he’s fond of glasses, and long hair…”

Eakova’s hand reached up to her scruffy red hair, and she frowned, scowled, and pretended like she was adjusting her headband. “Hmph. Fine, I don’t need your help. I can do it just fine on my own.” The woman sauntered off sulking, hunched over with her hands in her pockets.

“…What’s with her…” you asked Illger, “…Why’s she smitten with him all of a sudden..?”

“Ehhhh,” Illger shrugged and made a sound of unconcerned ignorance, “I can guess, though. He was actually pretty chatty on the way up, but he did talk about himself some. Weird way, like he didn’t really want to all the time but had to. Some of our boys talked with the boys already here, and the word’s here too, ‘specially from his crew. Guy’s a sword fighter, with sabers. One of my guy thought himself a pretty decent swordsman, but the guy didn’t want to have a spar at all. Wasn’t no phoney from what he talked about though, apparently. I guess you already knew that though, eh. Eakova though, see, if she likes anybody, it’s swordsmen. Swashbucklers, duelists, the like. If the people here talked about the same thing he did? Shit, no wonder she’s thirsty. You know he was a duelist? Like an underground one.”

“…I’ve heard…” You didn’t intrude into Von Metzeler’s private life much, but apparently it wasn’t so private. Though…with the obliteration of his memories that came before the Academy, it might be one of the few aspects of his identity that he could grasp.

“Wouldn’t talk at all about anything else, was what was weird. Ask somebody where they were born and usually they don’t mind sayin’ more than the country. Like, I know what country you’re from, right?”

“…I ought to see him…” you started to break away, “…Was there anything else..?”

Illger tried his smile again. “Lend me money?”

“…I’ll see you later…”

-----

The dawn had come up on smoking ruins, though any bodies had been cleared away or taken to the field hospital now, leaving the Captain to survey a clean aftermath. A night raid had managed to slip through negligent security with a large amount of tanks, dealt serious damage to the unit based here, and absconded with Netillian officers who had been captured. A serious failure, and one where fingers were pointed every which way to find blame, but such wasn’t why the Captain was here.

“Ruined, absolutely ruined,” the armored cavalry commander moaned, a captain like the visitor, but of notably less prestige. “They never attack at night, let alone with armor, and…and there is no armor of that quantity in this sector, I would have known! This is absolutely terrible!”

“Terrible indeed,” the Captain walked ahead into a motor pool full of wrecked vehicles. He chose to be gentle with the man, rather than point out how many defeats Twaryi had suffered because of arrogance like his. A trait that would have to be ameliorated if the East was to find victory on this continent. Twaryi would need to cease being astonished that the heretic could bring such defeats upon them, there were certainly plenty in history to not be surprised anymore, save for hiding it from oneself by willful ignorance. “Serzhant, do you suspect what I suspect?”

“What would that be, Captain?”

“The reports included one of a white vehicle, yes?”

“That is what was said,” the cavalry commander still lamented as he looked over the motor pool, “A mercenary?”

“Perhaps. However, Serzhant, I do believe our mutual friend has been busy. They own a white vehicle, though, I wonder why they were here..?”

The armored cavalry commander caught on immediately. “They were from another sector entirely? Yours? How important were those prisoners? They did not seem worth such a…such a display of force!”

“Your losses are not total, are they, Captain?” the Captain asked his fellow of rank.

The man put his face in his hands, “There is but one damaged platoon left. We may as well be combat incapable. At least the new equipment survived.”

“I will help you,” the Captain ran his hand over a damaged hull, “I will have to see the others, but given the quick nature of this raid, at least some vehicles appear to be badly damaged, but not total write offs. You may as well apply such to every vehicle here, even the burnt out hulks. That should led you save some face in your report, and I can give my approval that your company is largely in need of repairs, not replacements. A much softer landing for this hard news.”

“Ah, ah,” the commander let relief wash over him, “That would be…be most kind of you, sir.”

“Indeed. Though, I think we can agree to a fair exchange for that favor, now can’t we..?”

-----

Yva was the one who answered the door when you knocked, though you could see past her in the common room, was your wayward Lieutenant. Yva looked suddenly tired and cross upon your arrival.

“Whatever it is can surely wait for later.”

“...No…” you heard Von Metzeler say from inside, though he didn’t look to the door, “…Let him in…”

Yva gave you a cold glance, then pulled the door the rest of the way open before returning to the center table in the tight fit of a room, trusting the guest to have the proper manners to close it the rest of the way in this sort of season. The small iron stove had red coals glowing through the door grate, and hot water in a kettle was steaming slowly. From the smell of the room, it had been used to brew some smoky scented tea.

Von Metzeler finally looked up at you as Yva sat across from him again…did you look so weary as well? “…Something has…happened to your eye…”

“…I’ve had work done on it. It’ll be better in…” A month? Two months? You weren’t sure. “…Sometime. It’s alright…Where did you get this tea…?”

“…I bought it along the way…” Von Metzeler said, sipping at his cup, “…It is of the homeland…though it brings back naught…to my mind…” He seemed to struggle to meet your eyes- a feeling you knew well. “…Lieutenant…why did you leave…back in Sosadlt..?”

“…A long story…” you looked over at Yva, who was enduring the inconsistent stop and start speaking with surprising tolerance. “…Though I do not think we should speak of it…publicly…”

“Ah yes, I dare not intrude upon forbidden knowledge,” Yva intoned in mock lightness.

“…I have spoken with her…of the cond…conditioning…” Von Metzeler coughed out, “…Fear not in…speaking freely…” He glanced at Yva, “…I will not be…sending her away…”

>Then you’ll talk later. You aren’t comfortable with “speaking freely” around a Soulbinder, no matter how innocent they look.
>You supposed you took no issue with an audience. So be it, you’d “speak freely.”
>Other?
Also
>Anything you want to talk with Von Metzeler about?

>>4061451
>>You supposed you took no issue with an audience. So be it, you’d “speak freely.”
>Anything you want to talk with Von Metzeler about?
How was the trip and where did they meet Bertram when did he disappear

>>4061449
Aw shit, we should've painted Eakova's tank with a proper camo long ago.
Can we at least paint the mercs now?

>>4061451
>You supposed you took no issue with an audience. So be it, you’d “speak freely.”
We won't tell her anything she doesn't already know, and if her presence helps Metzeler like Maddy's helped us, all the better.
>Say that we left because we wanted to return faster, and because we felt that we need to DO THINGS to restore ourselves.
>Ask how Metzeler feels, ascertain his combat and commanding capabilities.
>Recommend drinking and scarves.
>Also ask what exactly they told Bertram.

>>4061451
supporting this >>4061473

>>4061451
Oh by the way, how do we go around rewarding our retinue? I think Anya has earned some kind of an award at this point.

>>4061484
reward good work with even more work, tell her about Bertram, she'd be pissed we didn't, considering were supposed to be blood pact/bound/whatever

>>4061473
Supporting

>>4061451
>>You supposed you took no issue with an audience. So be it, you’d “speak freely.”
>Ask him besides his memories did he give up any of his other skills
>Is he able to command right now?
>Inform him the Major said the stuttering should go away on his own but alcohol and anger helps apparently
>Must as well tell him the whole story about Bertram now

>>4061492
Also can't wait to see the latest round of crap Gerovic's going to throw at us

>>4061488
>>4061492
And also add this questions and tell about Bertram’s duel with us

Morning go, though my afternoon and evening will be completely occupied. Mostly doing nothing. Oh well. inb4 implying that's different from the usual.

>>4061472
>>4061473
>>4061479
>>4061488
>>4061492
Refuse to send away any one armed nerds. And conversation topics.

Gonna write.

>>4061473
>Can we at least paint the mercs now?

There's nothing to say you can't, but their white paintjob is camouflage given the current snow cover (their default pattern is chocolate and and). Netillian tanks are conveniently dark green, rather than painted in a particular pattern. Your own tanks are still blue.

>>4061484
>Oh by the way, how do we go around rewarding our retinue? I think Anya has earned some kind of an award at this point.

I presume you mean like a medal or commendation, not the rewards of buying her jewelry, food, and weaponry.
The High Protector has technically given her a military decoration! One she has refused to attend a ceremony for. As far as Strossvald is concerned, you aren't actually at war, and will deny fervently that you are actively taking part in combat. Therefore, for the time being, any requests to the homeland will be delayed if not denied.

>>4062025
Well we definitely have to at least buy her food and weaponry. She basically carries this outfit right now.

“…Fine…” You walked, slouched, over to the stove, “…I will not hesitate to speak freely then…I will take some tea for myself…” It was a sort you recalled distantly, but you had never bothered learning the particular differences between similar teas; you just liked them, generally. Let the academy cadets call you lacking in taste if they like. “…This may take some time to tell…”

You began from where you left the Iron Hogs escort, though trimming the fat was a necessity. Not exempted was your need to restore yourself- to prove to your own being that you were not shattered beyond repair, that you were cracked, but unbroken. Despite that, you had to admit where you had faulted, how you had been injured badly, indeed, nearly killed. Initial treatment had been only mentioned in passing. There was no need to mention the spinster surgeon, nor the evidence of the Ellowian Army’s remnants clinging to life so near the border to the former nation.

“…Foolishly brazen…” Von Metzeler said critically, despite your justifications after telling the story of your journey, “…Imagine if your fiancée learned of your…vainglorious attempt…at a class…classical…Von Tracht suicide…”

“He is engaged?” Yva sounded genuinely surprised.

“…There is no need to bring her into this…” Especially not with Yva around. Wait, Von Metzeler knew of Maddalyn’s sorceries…he would be smarter than to share such, you hoped. Though if this was the first he mentioned of her, maybe there was no reason to be concerned. “…I had to…” you stubbornly insisted, before continuing on to the events of the week you had been here, as well as what had happened in both of yours absences. The new threat of Gerovic, why there was a new Twaryian tank in the motor pool, Kelwin’s wounding, the change in administration in New Jorgenstohn, and even what had happened just last night. The raid, not…after.

“…A fierce opponent, this Gerovic…despite holding back…yet I fear…I will be of no help…” Von Metzeler looked at his hands on the table, a dull and tired expression marring his face, “On our way north…there was a skirmish…deftly handled…but…I could not drive…drive down the urge to…run and hide…”

“…Can you command..?” An important issue, though you knew the answer to your query already.

“…” Von Metzeler held his head in his hands, “…I would not do so…with confidence…I must not be…the weak link…Yet I must try…”

“What you must do,” Yva scolded, “is not endanger yourself and others out of pride. By rights you should be home, not here.”

“…There is naught for me at home" Von Metzeler lamented, "…not now…”

Von Metzeler’s memories had been all but stolen away, save for the past several years, seemingly. Was there more, though? “…Was anything taken besides your memories..? Do you know..?” You asked.

“…I was speaking of such with…With Yva…actually…” Von Metzeler grimaced as he took a hand from his head, “…Pardon me…it is frustrating to…speak this way…”

“There is no trouble with it,” Yva reassured him patiently, eyes closed and back straight.

Thankfully, you had some advice for that. “…I asked the Major about that…She said the stuttering should go away eventually…but in the short term, alcohol works well…” Some of the advice might have been subjective. “…Alternatively, if Yva has a scarf or something…”

“…Why would…that matter if she did..?”

“…Well,” you recalled Maddalyn’s scarf, soft silk and still imbued with the scent of her perfume, “You could smell it…”

Yva and Von Metzeler stared at you.

“…Well,” you tucked into yourself a bit, “…It helps me.” You dared not mention how hugging Anya had driven it away.

“…I would rather you…cease such ridi…ridiculous presumptions…” Von Metzeler crossed his arms and looked down sorely.

“…Excuse me for trying to help…” You muttered, ”…as I said, some small measure of drunkenness helps…” Getting angry and frustrated also seemed to distract the fear, but you felt no need to encourage that at present.

“…I would need…to be quite drunk indeed to sniff a woman’s clothes…”

“Rondo.” Yva said levelly, “That’s enough.”

“…I apologize…” Von Metzeler said to the table, “…As I was saying…I was discussing the matter…with Yva…and…I had much time…to think about it…the conditioning seems…to set its roots in…something valuable…according to Yva…I would have surprised myself…”

“…Did you hear the voice? Asking you questions..?” you asked Von Metzeler.

He nodded. “…It asked what I was…then said I was not…and then I…was not…” Von Metzeler stopped a moment to rub his forehead and try to sit up straighter. “…As I said…I believe that…it takes root in…something valuable…like a poisoned well…the thing must be emptied…before it can be cleansed…Like your ability to fight…has been cleansed…”

“…But it’s not gone forever…” you added, as a reassurance to yourself.

“…Of course not…yet that means nothing…when it is gone for the present…”

“…Did you have to sacrifice anything else..?” you asked.

Von Metzeler shook his head. “…Nearly two decades of life…if that is not a steep enough price…I know not what could be…”

Now came time for something you’d been thinking of for some time now. “…On your trip up…did Hilda’s brother meet with you..?”

Von Metzeler shook his head. “I cannot say I remember him…A stranger accompanied us north…and aided us several times…even in the pair of skirmishes we had…you seem…sure of who he is…”

“…What did you tell him..?” you asked.

“…I did not speak with…with him much…the escorts and I…did answer him…when he asked where we were going…We thought our camaraderie was growing with our familiarity…that he could make a worthy ally…then he disappeared…”

“…He appeared a pair of nights ago.” You did your best to bite down on that sentence. “He attacked me, and injured me…” a gesture to your broken little finger, splinter, and the bandaged cut on your cheek. “…Then he challenged me to a duel…to be accepted by the end of the week…because he feels that I dishonored his sister, Hilda…that I am the cause of her misfortunes…I did my best, damn him…”

Von Metzeler blinked at you. “You are in…no position to accept…not with a hope of winning…Did he say if it was…to the death..?”

“…Ha…” you let out a single choked hoot, “…I would be surprised if it wasn’t…in addition, if I bring anybody with me…to help…he claims he will kill them. If I bow out…he will come here and pick off those around me…I refuse to let my weakness be the cause of another’s death..!”

“…So you throw yourself…upon a funeral pyre…to spite Lady Von Blum…” Von Metzeler said darkly, “…This is a duel…made in bad spirit…to mock and torture you…not out of vengeance…” He set his hand on his chin again. “…Perhaps though…I am to share in the blame…were I more persistent in courting…the poor woman…perhaps she would not have had…such happen to her…” He pinched his brow, then rested his head on the back of his hand. “…You do not intend though…to merely die…do you..?”

>Of course you didn’t, but die you would, if you didn’t have help from one who could not…You need Yva’s help.
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)
>Assure him that everything would be…well, you had a chance that was not zero. You had plans. You’d won harder battles, and arrogant you may be, you could prove that same man was still around to come out the victor in another battle…
>Other?

>>4062488
>>Of course you didn’t, but die you would, if you didn’t have help from one who could not…You need Yva’s help.

>>4062488
>>Of course you didn’t, but die you would, if you didn’t have help from one who could not…You need Yva’s help.
Tell him it's either that or we go beg Poltergeist

File: 50CCC79B-0E7D-4FD8-BBFA-B(...).jpg (85 KB, 626x575)

85 KB JPG

>>4062488
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)
We have spooky trees that we can take bits of to hide from Bertram’s spooky sight. He does not know we know this, nor will he be expecting us to not appear to his magic eye. We have advantages in this fight we can use to win. Ask Yva to help, sure, but don’t resign to thinking there no natural way to win this fight.

>>4062488
>Of course you didn’t, but die you would, if you didn’t have help from one who could not…You need Yva’s help.
Only good chance is summoning Poltergeist
>>4062644
The natural ways are slim and we need something more

>>4062488
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)

We already know her price for her help, is to enter the Wizard World War and I cannot accept that, because everyone here, including Maddy, will get drawn in.

>>4062488
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)

>>4062488
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)

>>4062488
>“…So you throw yourself…upon a funeral pyre…to spite Lady Von Blum…”
Fuck!
Damn it!
Even when half-retarded Von Metzeler is quick with the pointed jabs!
Fuck it!
I don't care if it brings the Wizard War down on our heads. With our proximity to Poltergeist Richter was a bad move or two away from it darkening his doorstep anyway!
Richter can't fucking die. There are too many people counting on him for him to be risking his life like this. It's an out of the frying pan, into the fire, type of situation, but good damn I refuse to put our boy in such a risk.
Even if surviving whatever bullshit Bert throws at us on our own would be better for us in the long run, it's not worth the risk of up and dying!
It's not just Bertram's spook vision that's the problem, even IF we get around that shit he's still a pre-op Richter level marksman and possibly an even better fighter.
What galaxy brained play can we do right now to even the odds against that, besides selling our souls to a higher power, whether that is to a Wizard War or the Milk Major, who we still haven't talked to about this whole mess?
Even now after spending that last few nights training with Malachi and Jorgen, we've been given no indication that the training has shown any results besides their vague assurances.
It's not that I don't believe Richter can't pull this off, but god damn it we need to stop bullshitting and come up with a solid plan to secure at least a solid chance at victory or we need to just cave and get some bigger guns involved.

>>4063161
The sensible bet is asking our beetlejuice for help, since like we are tired of pointing out, Bertram not only has a good aim, but he a better cqc than pre-op Richter and even with the few ways to avoid his eye won’t really solve the rest of our problem. Unless we get only good rolls, better expect a Commander funeral quest.

>>4062488
>>Of course you didn’t, but die you would, if you didn’t have help from one who could not…You need Yva’s help.
She'll probably turn us down so we probably need to go visit the guy in our dreams again

>>4062488
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)
I simply don't believe Yva will help us. She refused most vehemently before.

>>4063530
Was it because she couldn’t or she didn’t wanna help ?

>>4063539
I think it was she couldn't help without forcing Richter to ally for her side in whatever this thaumaturgical clusterfuck actually is.
So partly a warning, partly a threat, partly an offer.

I cant remember, was the Demiphantom attracted to us in someway before, or to Maddy?

Releasing it might just have it haunt us again.

>>4063720
It was to Maddy.

>>4063720
>>4063725
If by before we sealed it away then I guess you can say it was tired to Maddy since she created it, but I'm not really sure what you mean by that.
The Demiphantom is currently "haunting" Richter, who sealed it away in that factory with a magic seal that is now tied to him and now it's only way to contact the outside world.
It trying to yell at Richter to release it results in Richter sometimes fainting and getting sent to a place between the real world and the Naval, where Poltergeist's spook shack is.
Fainting randomly out of nowhere can be VERY inconvenient, but Richter mitigates these episodes by chewing on black flower. That also, however, keeps us from talking to Poltergeist. If I remember correctly we stopped taking black flower for that very reason so we can talk to him about this situation among other things, but the dreams have yet to come.

We have no idea what would happen if we release it, just that if we do Poltergeist will take it off our hands, do something with it, and in return for a BIG favor. One he's refused to let us use in other situations because they weren't "Important enough".

>>4062488
>There was no intent from you save to win, but to make your chances as good as they could get, you had to spend the time you had preparing, training- so if it was not too much to ask, you needed him to take over your responsibilities…some of them, at least. (Draw the Scion. Richter will be exempt from combat duties.)

Oh the Super Bowl's today.

>>4062585
>>4062663
>>4062594
>>4063258
and >>4063161 I think?
Pls tell your magical girl to help me.

>>4062644
>>4062746
>>4062909
>>4062950
>>4063530
>>4063802
Nah, I got this. But who am I? Not the zombie, that's for sure.

Writing.

>>4064500
Yva seems more like a QB than a Madoka though.

>>4064590
Being a commander is suffering

To tell the truth, you weren’t nearly confident enough about your chances. On one hand, you didn’t need nor want to be part of any more sorcerous nonsense, but on the other…you didn’t want to die. Ironic perhaps, but the impersonal nature of war between nations was far different from dealing with a personal vendetta. Yet, the price of guaranteeing your health and safety…it was too much. There wasn’t even a fantastic chance Yva would even accept, with or without Von Metzeler’s pressure, should he deign to press her. Last time you requested she had refused utterly, so your best chances were to make yourself as ready as possible…and perhaps visit your dreams, as it were, for counsel; for aid. Poltergeist still hung his favor over your head- surely saving your life was a worthwhile exchange for that monstrosity that Poltergeist desired.

“…I have no intention of doing anything but winning…” you said with bravado as fragile as a glass ornament, “…I have to make my chances as good as I can, though…I do not intend to spite Maddalyn anywhere. To do that though, I need…to train myself. To prepare. So…if it is not too much to ask…for you to take over some of my responsibilities..?”

Von Metzeler frowned deeper than before. “…I do not have…confidence…in myself to do it…Yet I cannot be a bur…burden…can I..?”

“…I’ve had much in the way of help…” you felt no hesitation to admit that, “…The Junior Lieutenant and Sergeant have been quite helpful…and we have more mercenaries now. I think things…will be fine…”

“…Hm…” Von Metzeler leaned down on the table, “…I will do my utmost…are there reports…to peruse..?”

“…In the command office…” you said, “…I won’t ask that you start right away. In a few hours…you did just get back, after all…” You rose again and headed for the door. “…Later, then. Welcome back…”

Time to get back to Malachi and Jorgen. Yesterday all that had occurred was for Jorgen to chase you around swinging and throwing his axe at you, while Malachi mostly either cackled at you or attacked you when Jorgen decided to take a breather. It was purportedly to try and “bring a killer to the surface,” as Jorgen put it, but so far it had felt like it wasn’t working. It was a fantastic way of terrifying you; Jorgen claimed that all Yaegir men went through this ritual, the rakeita, in their boyhood. When you complained that you didn’t have years to become a Yaegir, Jorgen had told you that to speed up the process, he was actually going to try to kill you.

If it was a joke then it wasn’t a funny one.

Eventually Jorgen and Malachi decided you’d been tormented enough and set you to striking a tree with a hefty, weighty stick while they told stories. That was when you heard Jorgen disclose his apparent reason for not returning to the forests of the north, his shadowed homeland. Yaegir courtship was odd, violent as some might imply was suitable. Somehow you knew where it was going when Jorgen described his wife to be as having an identical twin sister, but you tried to parse things through the northerner’s thick accent regardless.

“Soou I gehtehn dehr, ehye, ehn erhm! Ehrm!” He made an extremely suggestive motion with his pelvis, “Dehn wahn ehm’ douhn, Isseh, “Ehlahvouu, Mila,” ehnshehsess, “Ehm Hanna!” Hehhahahaha…”

Anya had thought it was pretty funny when you told her last night. It just reminded you of how shockingly alike Maddalyn and her sister were. Then got your mind focused on your fiancée all over again.

Suffice it to say, your loader had been so embarrassed from accidentally sleeping with his wife’s sister that he fled the north rather than face the woman he’d spent years with, going south again to serve the Archduchy again.

“…What…” you had panted between clobbering a tree, seemingly pointlessly, “…You’d rather die than see her..?”

Jorgen shrugged. “Yauhrshremps noughtter, eh? Youhrno wehtter?” A different point of view, you’d say.

Well, you thought as you left the cottage to head back for camp, maybe you’d feel something awaken today…or the next day…hopefully, sometime before you faced Bertram once more.

-----

…

On your long journey back again, you had met a fortune teller in a dusty Sosaldtian town. The mercenaries had gotten into a nerve wracking firefight with local brigands, killing a couple and driving the rest away, and were staying at the settlement for the night rather than risk another ambush by the same band in the dark. A caravan was in the same place, and much like anywhere else, they had mystics with them. Exempted from watch duty, you had gone to take your mind off of recent events…and off of itself. Off of the ever present feeling of things creeping just out of sight, like being in the dark all alone with scratching on the floor, all of the time.

The mystic was a young girl, perhaps thirteen years old, with what was presumably her grandmother watching over her as she practiced what could be called a trade amongst the Vyemani. Both of them were dressed in heavy beaded cloaks and charms, geometric patterns running up and down their apparel, the cards they plied being antique painted lacquer work upon wood. It wouldn’t have surprised you, given the wear upon their edges and corners, the fading upon the faces, if the deck was an heirloom.

“Your card,” the small Vyemani girl said, dealing one card, then four around it in a cross.

“Pick any, save the center. Fate is of twin aspect. That which is chosen, and that which is not. The center is your anchor, your card is your being.” She looked to her grandmother, uncertain if she had recited the verse correctly. You wouldn’t have known- you merely touched a card. You had never been superstitious, but recently, you’d had every reason to become such.

The girl slipped a finger under the card you pointed to and flipped it over. “The Scion,” she recited, “Aspect of the Knight, Triumph of Duty. You are important? Or have an important cause?”

You shook your head. You just didn’t know. Most of your life was now blurry shapes behind a curtain. Maybe your cause was important, maybe you were important. Only the past few years were clear, and they felt like they had happened to a different person, like you were a silent invisible witness, and then you woke up as this person, named Rondo Von Metzeler.

The center card was flipped. “The Hearth. The place of reunion, communion, respite. A meeting in your future, not a confrontation…”

Well, you already knew that.

“Er.” The girl noticed your lack of response, “A few pfennings, and I can give you another reading, if you like.” When you had acquiesced, more out of generosity than of interest, She had replaced the center, and flipped it. “Ooh, the Tribute! Luck and riches are on your path, sir. Aren’t you lucky?”

…You had enough entertainment then.

The foretold reunion had come, of course, and gone. The true test would be to see if luck and riches would fall into your lap.

Richter Von Tracht had just departed, you taking on responsibilities in his place for his coming duel. A poor decision, by your measure- without another to win the duel for him, you placed his chances at the better end of “hopeless.” That would not be cause to deny him his wishes, though. You owed him a debt all the same.

You had to inquire about how somebody had ruffled through your belongings and stolen a pair of your briefs, when you got the appropriate chance.
A few hours free time had been granted upon Richter’s departure. Perhaps time to turn about and invest into taking initiative into duties. Maybe time to relax a bit more. You were in pleasant company, after all. Yva apparently didn’t stray from the cottage much, save for…unspoken of ranges out, often at night. She had been quick to be accommodating- maybe something to be reciprocated for.

>It was improper to let Yva rot in this dusty old hut all the time. Take her out somewhere with your free time. (Where?)
>Head to the HQ Office and catch up on what was going on, immediately. The sooner you started again, the sooner you’d be riding properly in the saddle once more. (OOC you know this is to do with the UGZ and the Penal Battalion, of course.)
>You’d spent enough time with Yva for now, but not enough time getting settled. Go investigate something else/meet with another person. (Who?)
>Other?

>>4064789
>A poor decision, by your measure- without another to win the duel for him, you placed his chances at the better end of “hopeless.”
Preach Metzeler.

>Head to the HQ Office and catch up on what was going on, immediately. The sooner you started again, the sooner you’d be riding properly in the saddle once more. (OOC you know this is to do with the UGZ and the Penal Battalion, of course.)

>>4064789
>You had to inquire about how somebody had ruffled through your belongings and stolen a pair of your briefs, when you got the appropriate chance.
That’s explains it, but why did Richter went for someone that’s wasn’t close ? alcohol and it’s mysteries
>>4064789
>Head to the HQ Office and catch up on what was going on, immediately. The sooner you started again, the sooner you’d be riding properly in the saddle once more. (OOC you know this is to do with the UGZ and the Penal Battalion, of course.)

>>4064789
>A poor decision, by your measure- without another to win the duel for him, you placed his chances at the better end of “hopeless.”
Damn you Von Metzeler!
Can someone! ANYONE, have faith in our Richter!

>Head to the HQ Office and catch up on what was going on, immediately. The sooner you started again, the sooner you’d be riding properly in the saddle once more. (OOC you know this is to do with the UGZ and the Penal Battalion, of course.)

>>4064842
>Damn you Von Metzeler!
>Can someone! ANYONE, have faith in our Richter!
Let’s be real dude, without outside help, we only have a chance with only rolling good rolls

>>4064846
Can't wait to show up to the duel and have all the DCs be like 10

>>4064789
>>Head to the HQ Office and catch up on what was going on, immediately. The sooner you started again, the sooner you’d be riding properly in the saddle once more. (OOC you know this is to do with the UGZ and the Penal Battalion, of course.)

>>4064846
Fucking Malachi and Jorgen would tell us if this was a waste of time right?
They wouldn't fucking train us wrong as a joke and then watch from a distance as we get our ass torture to death, right?

>>4064935
Bertram has years of experience and skill over Richter at this point not sure how one week of training hard is miraculously going to change things

>>4064944
>Bertram has years of experience and skill over Richter at this point not sure how one week of training hard is miraculously going to change things
All I'm saying is that Malachi and Jorgen wouldn't just send Richter to his death. If they thought he had no chance they would tell him that it was a fool's play right? Unless they had some plan in training him that would give him a good shot at winning, they wouldn't bother or at least ask that Richter reconsider.
There has to be more to this training if we aren't allowed to actually see it and they seem so sure it's helping.

>>4064935
Given that it’s a duel, I don’t think that Bertram will torture us and instead will just outright kill when given the chance. Also I don’t they’d train us wrong given our relationship with them

>>4064981
The whole point of this thing for Bertram is so he can get his jollies off playing a twisted game of cat and mouse in the forest.
He'd probably only go for the kill after Richter has been thoroughly beaten or when he proves more trouble than it's worth.
Regardless you see my point. They aren't training us wrong and they seem to have faith in Richter.
Or at the very least that he's improving to some degree.

>>4064965
>they wouldn't bother or at least ask that Richter reconsider.
I don't think we told them about Yva so as far as they know we have literally no other choice but to fight. So what is there for Richter to reconsider? I think they're just training is because it's the only thing they can think of and it's better than just leaving us for dead, not because they think it will be enough for us to win.

>>4064789
>You’d spent enough time with Yva for now, but not enough time getting settled. Go investigate something else/meet with another person.
Krause, of course. Our best friend.

>>4064789
>You’d spent enough time with Yva for now, but not enough time getting settled. Go investigate something else/meet with another person. (Who?)
Krause, even if it's just to say hi. Or hell, he can come with us to the HQ and help Rondo get familiar with this fustercluck.

>>4064789
>Head to the HQ Office and catch up on what was going on, immediately. The sooner you started again, the sooner you’d be riding properly in the saddle once more. (OOC you know this is to do with the UGZ and the Penal Battalion, of course.)
We'll probably meet up with Krause anyway by doing this

Holy shit...
Guys were fucking idiots!
We've been sitting here trying to come up with a way so Bertram's magic eye can't properly see Richter, but why don't we use that to set an ambush instead!

>>4065885
Please elaborate

>>4065902
Ok so one of the more throughout plans I've seen around here was the idea that because it takes a while for the presence to dissipate from cute bushes an the like that it would make good cover for dummies or places for Richter to hide.
But why not instead of using this trick on Richter, we use it to sneak some dudes into the fight!

>>4065907
Because Bertram is a good sniper and he will se help incoming. He told us to not try that and I’m quite sure we’ll end up ruining our friends if we try that.

>>4065907
Because doing it one-on-one is clearly a plot limitation. You know, like working for Liemanner was.

>>4065911
Wasn’t it because he had Maddie ?

>>4065921
Liemanner having Maddy was an in-story limitation. We circumvented it.
Liemanner being a bunch of fucking clones was a plot limitation. We veered off the plot and were punished for it. There's no circumventing something like that.

>>4065924
I get it now. Bertram being a good marksman and knowing the place of our duel will make it impossible to sneak someone in and thus, is a plot limitation. Gotta pray for gaster’s help in this combat.

>>4065908
Bah! I guess you're right.
Fucking Bertram and his special eyes! Serves me right for thinking I was onto something.
Well since we're back to square one anyone else got any ideas?

>>4065955
I am the >>4056936 guy so I'm still a proponent of using decoys in some way. It doesn't have to be so complicated with setting up a bunch of dummies and such, but at least having some bloody shirts we can hang to draw fire should help. Also we might be able to borrow Anya's munitions caster, and while shooting explosives at Bertram will probably just make life harder on us, setting down some smoke cover that we can actually use if we cover our presence with the magic tree stuff will probably be useful. Tear gas also could help to flush Bertram out of an area we cant confidently shoot into.

>>4066023
The only part of that plan that seems odd to me is how we're gonna get the decoys out there to begin with?
Bertram said he'd be camping out in the forest we'd be dueling at didn't he? He'd see everything we'd be trying to do easily and just study which targets are false or not.
You say munitions casters wouldn't work, but maybe bringing some hidden explosives might?
Tear gas or smoke cover comes with the problem of getting people to shot them, and I wouldn't put it pass Bertram to just turn tail and start shooting up our camp at the first sign of external forces.

>>4066023
Like >>4066071 we can’t sneaky build the decoys, we’re limited to magic sap and extra ammo/grenades
>inb4 we get a shit roll while throwing a grenade and end up exploding our face

>>4066071
There are two working methods on the decoys, first one is we just have the men set up sniper bait decoys all across the border zone as a way to combat Tywarian snipers. We can commandeer one and soak it in something presencey to use as bait during the duel proper. The second idea is we just take rags or shirts imbued with some presence and spread them around as we frantically evade Bertram to provide some false positives to his eye and slow him down.

I will say that prepping obviously beforehand probably won't work, any teams we send in will probably get shot, or worse, Bertram will commandeer the decoys instead.

One of the reasons I figure we need some extra RP is for trap supplies, like a landmine or trip wire. Anything we can use that maximizes Richter's hunting skills as opposed to his wretched combat should be exploited.

If anything, we need to try and form a plan based on the real or perceived limitation of Richter not shooting or fighting at all.

>>4064792
>>4064825
>>4064842
>>4064877
>>4065859
To Headquarters!

>>4065408
>>4065569
Say hi to Krause.

Writing.

>>4065911
There is absolutely nothing limiting you to only having a one on one duel. The vote immediately after the duel was accepted (by vote) even presented the option of not doing it alone. The vote before this one, was a vote on doing it alone or with help, and there has been plenty of time given not only to plan, but to potentially change your mind. I have tried whenever possible to allow a reevaluation of circumstances when new information or resources have been acquired- there would be no sudden inability to do the same here.
The conclusion that you are only allowed to do this duel exactly as has been stated by somebody with extremely malicious intent because it is mandated by a plot is an extremely confusing one to me.

I don't take offense at criticism, I find it very important for growth, but assuming you're being locked into a box by the plot when there have been multiple votes at alternatives, the plan to go about it is subject to preparation and change up until the trigger is pulled, and information has been deliberately withheld from characters to prevent them from taking initiative with said information, it would be very puzzling to then place the blame on what occurs from what has been very purposeful self isolation on the plot.

To reiterate, you are allowed to try anything so long as you have a way to do it or make yourself able to do it. The obvious caveat is that you need to convince a voting majority to agree to execute that plan, and that there is not a guarantee that it will work the way it is expected to and that chance will be highly likely to be a factor. If you wish to take issue with the latter being a possibility, then so be it, but I would consider it a personal failure if it wasn't obvious by now that I wouldn't drop boulders on your head to spite you all.

>>4066313
Okay, I might have been traumatized by Liemanner too much. I admit it.

>>4066126
>>4062644
I think a lot of people might be forgetting that Bertram only has one special eye, not both. So he can presumably see perfectly normally with his normal eye and doesn't only see in presence vision like Maddy does. So I don't think rags or shirts would work as decoys to slow him down since he would be able to see that they're just rags or shirts as well as anyone else would.

Additionally even if Richter does try to camouflage himself in kalamarz branches it would only be as effective to Bertram's normal eye as a regular person hiding in some tree branches. And since Richter isn't any special expert on camouflage and Bertram is a skilled sniper who presumably has quite some experience with identifying targets in difficult terrain, I hardly think that our knowledge of the kalamarz trees' presence properties can be considered an "advantage." At best it can be used to nullify just one of the many, many advantages Bertram has over us in this fight. Which in my opinion isn't a basis to think Richter can actually win.

>>4066455
A good point that most forgot

>>4066455
Also as long as we can't shoot for crap it's going to be a major problem. Like our DC when competing with Anya was like 20 and that's shooting at static targets at relatively short range.

“…I will start my…duties early…” you said to Yva, rising slowly to your feet. “…Will you…be all right..?”

“The same should be asked of you,” Yva rose too, and moved between you and the door. “Will you not rest longer? You are not being demanded immediately.”

“…I have…already rested a week…” you put your hand on Yva’s arm, felt the place where her true body was joined with an enchanted prosthetic. “…I cannot rest forever…” Thoughts returned to Richter and his duel. “…You cannot help him..?”

Yva shook her head. “It is not my place to decide. Once, great disaster came about because my sort chose to try and control fate to our whim with our power.”
“…But you have…defied fate to ease suffering…”

Yva sighed slowly, mouth set into a small pout, “That is after the battle has ended.”

“…Then perhaps…”

“Let us not speak of that now, Rondo,” Yva put her hand, the one that was still hers, upon yours, and took it off of her. “That aspect of my identity needs not be a part of me, when around you.”

A nod. “…I understand…” If only you were so certain of what you were. “…You needed water…for a bath..?” That had been spoken of in idle chatter between the two of you.

“I am able to get it.” Yva said quickly, yet you wouldn’t be denied.

“…I will have it done for you…I’ll see you…in the evening perhaps…”

“Tomorrow,” Yva shifted uncomfortably, “I intend to bathe in the evening…”

Curse the mind for wandering. “…Ah…my apologies…well then…” with a wave exchanged between you, it came time for you to finally exit the cottage, into a winter chill that nipped at your face. Duty called once more, whether you were ready or not, and you would simply have to try your best to do what was expected of…a noble. A knight. Why? You could not recall where such feelings had begun, only that they were what you were, so all you could do is follow them, lest you lose yourself.

On your way to the headquarters office, you were accosted with an unexpected encounter.

“Uh, hey,” the voice of a woman coughed, and when you turned your head, you saw one of the mercenaries that had been sent along with you and Richter, walking cautiously towards you. “You’re Von Metzeler, yeah?”

She had unruly short red hair, with a bandanna over her head kicking her bangs up, and some manner of discoloration that rendered one half of her face more pale than the other, like splotches of lime bleach. Her jacket had its two…no, three buttons undone, for some reason. It was improper- perhaps she hadn’t noticed and needed to be reminded. You’d seen her before, but you didn’t remember anything about her- not even her name.

“…I am Lieutenant Von Metzeler…” you answered her. “…Did you…need something..?”

“Well,” the woman thought a second, “How’s it going?”

“…I am well…was there anything…you needed..?”

“Oh, that’s good,” the mercenary’s eyes flicked side to side, “I heard you’re a sword fighter? You like swords?”

“…I have to be going…” you started to walk again, “…Ask again later…I have work to attend to…”

“Later when?” the red haired mercenary asked, keeping pace with you. “Uh, I’m Frances, by the way.”

“…Later…” you said, not thinking of setting up a schedule for small talk. “…I do have to be going…”

“Sure, sure,” the mercenary nodded, “But, you want to maybe, talk and walk?”

“…We have been doing that…” you said as you came up upon the burrows where the headquarters had been partially transferred, “…I have work to do…as I said…”
“…Yeah, alright.” The mercenary stopped, and behind you, she muttered, “Fuck’s sake.”

What a strange thing, you thought as the staff officers greeted you in the headquarters. They still knew you, even if you’d never been that talkative with them, and you were quickly brought up to speed on the situation, and what you were expected to take care of…or at least be aware of.

There was a situation brewing between the UGZ-09’s new police force, the company’s official yet also unofficial 5th Platoon, and the Penal Battalion soldiers who also patrolled the UGZ. Reports were mixed as to who started what, but there was clearly unrest between the two groups. One for abuses against their countrymen, the other for perceived lack of “staying in their lane.” A few times had come where the two groups had men come to blows, nearly drawn weapons, and it was only a matter of time until it came to a skirmish.

You were well aware of the abuses of the Penal Battalion men. Rather, amongst some of them. Enough to matter. Netilland did not have the same military laws against abuses of civilians as Strossvald did, especially not in regards to Ellowians. The Penal Battalions were made up of both political criminals and actual criminals in disciplinary service, yet they were apparently encouraged by Kommissariat representatives to “let loose” on the occupied population. This meant beatings, extortion, rape- you knew the UGZ well enough to know why the Ellowians gave the Penal Soldiers a wide berth. Such abuses of power were not overlooked- they were explicitly covered for by their superiors. It was more than understood that if the Penal Battalion was in sole charge of maintaining order in the UGZ-09, it would easily have erupted just like UGZ-07 did.

5th Platoon trying to obstruct such abuses was not going to end well, not without some sort of action. Action that would be your responsibility, should you take it.

>If there would be a fight, you’d want your people to come out on top, at least. Reinforce the 5th. (With who?)
>There was still time for diplomacy. Go meet with the local Penal Battalion Company commander, maybe you could come to a new understanding.
>This would have to be solved with an aggressive action, a preemptive strike. Perhaps arrests. Perhaps expulsion of the penals from the UGZ. (What sort of plan, and who/how to execute it?
>Other?

>>4066548
Who are our options for the first one ?

>>4066548
>>If there would be a fight, you’d want your people to come out on top, at least. Reinforce the 5th. (With who?)
4th Platoon

>>4066558
Whoever you have listed here-
>>4056418
>>4056421
Though you can call in some help from friends too, if you have anybody in mind, naturally.

>>4066560
Going with this

>>4066560
If we do the 4th then violence will erupt pretty quickly as the Penal heads won't respect the authority of an Ellowian units mixing in with UGZ police. So we should have a "shit has gone bananas" sooner rather than later.

I do support it because it will help integrate the 4th for the eventual uprising and betrayal on the horizon.

But also
>Other?
Let's go talk to Maenesko(?) about the situation. And let him understand that violence is imminent.

>>4066560
+1

>>4066548
>>There was still time for diplomacy. Go meet with the local Penal Battalion Company commander, maybe you could come to a new understanding.
I think we should at least try feeling out their commander before resorting to anything drastic. If fighting does break out the people of the UGZ will suffer either way, and it's unlikely to provide a permanent solution.

>>4066455
That's why the plan called to fight him at night whrn his normal eye can't see shit.

>>4066548
>There was still time for diplomacy. Go meet with the local Penal Battalion Company commander, maybe you could come to a new understanding.
But don't meet with him ourselves. We're not in a condition for that. Send someone who doesn't stutter.

>>4066560
>>4066606
>>4066646
>>4066823
Reinforce them. With more dirty lowlanders.
Also have a chat with the smelly fish person.

>>4066936
>>4067380
Fighting is good but have you tried afternoon tea?

Writing.

I had a dream this morning that I watched a really low budget, comedy stage play adaptation of Panzer Commander Quest. 90% of the play was Anya almost beating people up and a lot of actors in plain clothes with tank turrets for heads fighting eachother Remembering tanq volunteers at a theater only made it funnier

>>4068509
Nice pasta

Frankly, violence seemed inevitable, but perhaps it could be deterred with a large enough injection of reinforcement. The larger an opponent, after all, the more hesitant an assailant was to square up for a fight. The additional benefit of a larger force being much more likely to win a potential altercation was not lost on you, though it would hopefully not come to that.

A staff officer did question your choice of deployments when you handed them in to be processed. “Fourth platoon to the UGZ?” the young man stared at the typed missive, “Won’t that cause trouble?”

“…Trouble is already happening…I trust them to best handle it…” you explained yourself, though your tall and broad figure, despite the slump in your shoulders, was more convincing than any words you could summon could be. “…I will also…speak with the administrator…for UGZ-09…Sublieutenant Maenesko…”

Von Tracht had spoken more with Maenesko than you ever had, but you knew plenty about him, including that he was sympathetic to the conquered people he minded over. Once a navy man, his stubborn sticking to his old rank a sign of some pride in such, he had been an influential figure in allowing UGZ-09 some measure of autonomy, even if it was officially still his administration. Fifth platoon was the police force organized by the Ellowian decision makers in the UGZ, and as Maenesko had no authority over any of the garrisons or troops in general of the UGZ, his sympathy for the people couldn’t often be acted upon outside of procurement of supplies or funds.

That said, it was not as if he flew a flag that was not that of his home. Given Von Tracht’s and Sergeant Nowicki’s ties to insurgents, one would see the value in finding sympathy wherever one could, but you recalled that Maenesko disapproved of rabble rousing within the UGZ itself.

A meeting with him should clear any air concerning that, you figured, whether it was a plan to avoid it or to prepare for it.

Fourth platoon deployed immediately, and you went with them, keeping to yourself and collecting your thoughts. The memories you lost had been precious, but old. The UGZ was as familiar as ever, from normal duties there, taking Yva around in it, but most significantly, from the times you disguised yourself, prowling the dark with your saber at your flank, as you carried it now, though on your opposite side, and a more flamboyant one with your family’s name. A meager attempt to not be found out immediately. For some reason you had a hesitancy to wear it in the past, but now…the past may as well have flown away into the horizon.

Why had you patrolled the night? It was a diversion, yes, but perhaps it was also frustration with the role you were currently playing. The assistant to the conqueror, oppressor of the downtrodden. Such did not fit your vision of a knight. You also may have been inspired by a pulp novella series, but you’d never admit such a thing.

It was a funny thing, to be inspired by something you’d forgotten. You remembered well enough the title, the line of books, but not their actual contents. You must have read them before the Academy. Your quarry in the night have been those seeking to do violence to the denizens of the city, but those you dealt with tended to be domestic criminals, rather than Penal soldiers. Penal troopers tended to move in groups, not in dark alleys, and however talented you were as swordfighter, you were only one man. That said, you had certainly kept an eye on their activities. They would swarm brothels and cheap food places, smokehouses and drug dens. The UGZ was no tourist attraction; it did have respectable places to visit, as a city would, but the penal troops weren’t interested in them whatsoever.

A palpable tension was felt as soon as you and fourth platoon approached the gates, and the penal troops manning it leered at what would be immediately clear was Ellowian troops, with their grey striped helmets and black trousers; the same apparel the “police” would be wearing. Fourth platoon marched stoically on despite the suspicious glares from the penal troops, for the center of the city where Maenesko’s headquarters were fenced off from the rest of the UGZ. With Fourth Platoon’s entry, there were now near one hundred sixty armed Ellowian troops; no number to simply brush off as something easily dealt with or overwhelmed.

You expected a wait when you arrived at the administrative center, but evidently, you marching in with eighty troops under Lieutenant Wielzci had lit a fire under everybody’s asses, and you were shown in to Maenesko’s office promptly. It was messy, cramped and cluttered with all manner of documental detritus, and within the veritable fortress of paper stacks and office supplies was the stout, tired looking Sublieutenant Maenesko, whose eyes were looking over a letter as he addressed you, gaze flicking side to side.

“Lieutenant Von Metzeler,” he said, “I haven’t seen you or the Coordinator in some time, though things have been ordinary enough hereabouts.” He pushed aside the letter and looked fully at you, eyes dull and sleepy. “There wasn’t a request for reinforcements. Did you just feel like causing a stir?”

You shook your head. “…There was word of…tensions with the penal troops…I sought to…protect the police…and check the…check the power of the…penal battalion…garrison…”

Maenesko cocked a blonde eyebrow at your stumbling speech. “If you are unwell, I would have accepted a letter,” he glanced to a pile of pages, “…Eventually.”

“…I thought to see…the UGZ as well…” you hadn’t accounted for a long waiting line to get Maenesko’s attention by mail, so it was a good thing you came directly. “…the fifth platoon…mentioned various…troubles with the penal troops…”

“That has been troublesome, yeah,” Maenesko yawned, “What the penal troops are up to isn’t unusual for them, but they’re not used to being interfered with. Some of the policemen are obviously not content with the status quo, but the fact of the matter is, they have nothing to gain from doing so. Do you know what will happen, Lieutenant, should open conflict break out? If the commander of the penal troops believes he is being interfered with? The Kommissariat might notice something they don’t like, or worse, they will see justification for unofficial reprisals, that will not be investigated. If matters fouled any further I would have asked the council to disband the police force, even.”

“…Perhaps this threat of…force…would keep the peace…”

“Playing chicken with penal troops isn’t a safe gamble,” Maenesko countered tiredly, “At the very least, increased troop amounts makes it much more difficult for anybody to, say, randomly and suddenly apprehend and detain all of the newly minted police. An official Kommissariat investigation could do the same, but they are busy sorts, and slow to respond to unprofitable ventures, or anything relatively quiet. Discretion being the better part of valor, I would ask that you meet with the troops nominally under your command, and plea with them to keep their heads down, and do what they have been authorized to do. To patrol and mind their own populace, not the garrisons.”

>They wouldn’t be happy to be told to stay in their lane, but you supposed there was no other choice. You’d try to calm your side down. Fewer would be harmed that way. (Withdraw 4th platoon as well)
>It would be unjust and ungentlemanly to allow savagery to simply continue unimpeded, no matter the station. If getting interfered with would upset the penal command, then that was too damn bad. Interference would even be encouraged.
>You saw no reason to not stare down the penal battalion troops in this coming standoff. You simply would have to be found blameless, and merely reacting to their aggression. You wouldn’t interfere- but 4th platoon was here to stay.
>Other?

>>4068509
>90%
That's a lot of tomboy wrestling!

>>4068748
>You saw no reason to not stare down the penal battalion troops in this coming standoff. You simply would have to be found blameless, and merely reacting to their aggression. You wouldn’t interfere- but 4th platoon was here to stay.

>>4068748
>>Other?
Considering the increased tension and border skirmishes with the Twaryians we have determined that the UGZ is too poorly defended and a vulnerable target from external attack. Thus we believe that the penal garrison should be redeployed to construct and man defenses outside the UGZ walls. We have brought our 4th platoon to bolster the strength of the 5th platoon, the two of which we believe should be sufficient to handle policing duties within the UGZ in place of the penal troops. I'm sure Maenesko will agree that one can never be too careful when it comes to defending against Twaryians, even if it means the UGZ will have to go without the excellent and helpful policing skills of the penal troops.

>>4068748
>>You saw no reason to not stare down the penal battalion troops in this coming standoff. You simply would have to be found blameless, and merely reacting to their aggression. You wouldn’t interfere- but 4th platoon was here to stay.
Also what >>4068782 says plus bring up the fact that the penal troops should have their own problems to worry about like those deserters.

>>4068748
>You saw no reason to not stare down the penal battalion troops in this coming standoff. You simply would have to be found blameless, and merely reacting to their aggression. You wouldn’t interfere- but 4th platoon was here to stay.

>>4068782
Also this, the DMZ is a shithole. Trying to cut down a poplar tree causes an international incident.

>>4068748
This absolutely: >>4068782
That dastardly Gerovic OBVIOUSLY dreams about attacking UGZ-09 every night.

Today's pretty chock full, I mean, my prime writing time has been occupied this whole past week, but I've got an appointment today too. I should be updating in a few hours, but just a heads up.

I'll call the vote now though.

>>4068767
>>4068821
>>4068895
We'll wait and see what happens.

>>4068782
>>4068895
>>4069351
However, due to recent developments, external security is more valuable than internal patrolling. And don't you have bigger problems? Let us handle everything.

Will write when available again.

Alright, new metal in my mouth now. Writing.

“…I will not be…withdrawing my new commitment…” Maenesko had no direct authority over the soldiers themselves, and a tired annoyance crept on to his face before you added a conditional. “…However…are the Penal soldiers…necessary to keep here..? Perhaps the 5th’s…commitment will…allow them to focus on…other more imp…important tasks…”

“You’d have to convince higher command of that, same as if Captain Pferlowe asked for your commitments to suddenly become absent. I can tell you that he is not interested in withdrawing his people.
”
“…There has been…an increase in Twaryian incursions…the UGZ is under threat…clearly…”

“I have heard. None have come near here, though. You’ve done fine work dissuading them from raiding places like the UGZ, but, I have the privilege,” he said the word with dry sarcasm, “of sitting in on sector management meetings. That includes threat assessment. They’re quite satisfied with fifth battalion, first company’s performance, you know. The losses are acceptable, and disasters have managed to avoid manifesting. Frankly, unless reports are played up more, they think things are just fine the way they are. As for Captain Pferlowe, I can tell you that he and a few others have investments in the UGZ that they’d loathe to lose because they had to sit outside the UGZ instead of inside it. He certainly doesn’t want to go out and provoke the Twaryians into doing any more than they are now. Their section of the border is quite relaxing, by the by.”

Of course it was, you thought. Meanwhile, your commitment of 4th Platoon to the UGZ was a weakening of the reserves for combatting Gerovic, in a situation that you’d heard was already not favorable.

Maenesko sighed and lean

ed back in his chair, a shrug in his expression if not his shoulders. “It’s a good justification. Just not convincing at the moment. Either higher command or the Captain himself needs a good scare. Or some sort of pressure, I suppose. If you had a friend in the Kommissariat, for example, that would be extremely fortuitous. Considering disciplinary units are under the thumb of the Kommissariat, a good word from a high up Kommissar would convince him to cut his losses.”

“…I am afraid I…have no friends in…the Kommissariat…” you had to admit.

“A thing we have in common,” Maenesko sighed, “Though there’s some pride to be had in that I think. Regardless, unless something changes, the only thing you’re doing by flooding the UGZ with more lowlanders is potentially making things rougher on the citizens. Employment and enrichment, steps towards some measure of prosperity are what are most helpful so long as the Penals are here, not efforts towards autonomy and preparations to settle the score, or get revenge. I appreciate the help your unit has given us, Lieutenant, but if the situation deteriorates I won’t be able to help you.”

“…I understand…” It was disappointing nevertheless, even if you wouldn’t have expected the troublesome parties to just agree to stop being troublesome.

“Also,” Maenesko stared down at you, his head tilted up in resting against the chair, “I probably won’t be able to tell you when it happens. Not quickly at least. I’m always swamped in this, and it’s hard for me to get news about goings on. If the Citizen’s Council doesn’t keep me informed for whatever reason, I’m in the dark. So if you’re planning on doing something, do it quick. Within the next few days, or don’t bother. They’re bold, Lieutenant, but bold men are a poor fit for the situation they’re in.”

“…Yes…” What was it like to be bold again? You felt like you couldn’t remember, for how difficult it was to imagine. The doldrums your head were in felt inescapable. “…Good day then…”

-----

Returning to camp, interesting news awaited you when you went to see Frederick Krause again.

“Rondo,” he said lowly, sitting on a crate with his hands together and looking sideways, “One of your folks’ hounds is here.”

You blinked at him. “…Pardon..?”

“Oh. Sorry, it’s easy to forget.” Frederick cleared his throat, “Your family employs all sorts of shady people, but I recognize this one. Don’t know why he came to find you, but you ought to not keep him waiting.”

“…Is it a problem..?” you asked, doing your best to search the mists of your recollection for a hint on who that would be.

“Well, no, not for you. You’re the firstborn, after all. The heir.” …Did you have siblings..? “Definitely wants something though. Go on, unless Gerovic runs up at the head of a tank column with a gun in one hand and his cock in the other I probably won’t be going anywhere.”

You’d be fine with that not happening anytime soon, metaphorical or not. With a nod and a wave, you went in the direction Krause was looking, hoping that this “hound” wouldn’t ask you anything you couldn’t answer.

The man was loitering by a parked car, not one that spent any time outside, by the lack of snow upon it save the wheels. A cigar stuck out of a crooked mouth with a pointed jaw, a short and spiky black beard sprouting from his chin, every other part save his eyebrows shaven clean. His eyes were bright despite the shadow from his neat, brimmed hat, which was khaki like the long coat he wore.

“Really had to pick the middle o’ the fuckin’ boonies, huh, milord,” he took his cigar from his mouth, “Haven’t seen you in a while. A few years, maybe. How’s it going?”
“…You wanted something..?” you avoided the question.

“Man, straight to business. More of your father in you than you’d ever admit, ‘swear. Anyways, got a message from pop, speaking of. Family’s sick of you being a bachelor, ol’ boy. They want an answer on who you wanna shack up with or they’ll pick for you. They don’ care who, they’re all either rich or got influence. Hell, for all I hear they care, pick one and ruin the others anyways, but you gotta get married.”

“…Er…” you couldn’t for the life of you recall any of the people you’d been offered to betroth. You knew that it was a thing, but for some reason, you hadn’t acted on it.
“Look kid, I know you don’t want to, but you don’t tell your pop no, not if you’re an honest working man like myself. I don’t get paid to go back and tell them you’ll think about it.”

>Whatever. You could care less. Tell him to pick one and be off.
>Say you’re already taken. If father (whoever he was) didn’t like it, you’d elope and he could…do whatever?
>It might sound silly, but couldn’t you get a refresher? Descriptions? Who has the most land? You honestly forgot who any of the noble ladies were…
>Other?

>>4070735
>>It might sound silly, but couldn’t you get a refresher? Descriptions? Who has the most land? You honestly forgot who any of the noble ladies were…

>>4070735
>It might sound silly, but couldn’t you get a refresher? Descriptions? Who has the most land? You honestly forgot who any of the noble ladies were…
Our little boy's growing up!

>>4070735
>It might sound silly, but couldn’t you get a refresher? Descriptions? Who has the most land? You honestly forgot who any of the noble ladies were…

>>4070735
>It might sound silly, but couldn’t you get a refresher? Descriptions? Who has the most land? You honestly forgot who any of the noble ladies were…

We really need to talk to Krause
>Other?
Hypothetically if we had already found a wife, how would the family react?

>>4070735
>Say you’re already taken. If father (whoever he was) didn’t like it, you’d elope and he could…do whatever?
Poor Rondo. This is a shitty situation even without memory loss.

>>4070735
>>It might sound silly, but couldn’t you get a refresher? Descriptions? Who has the most land? You honestly forgot who any of the noble ladies were…

>>4070737
>>4070754
>>4070755
>>4071387
Oh God, I don't know any of these people, do I?

>>4071207
...What if I already had a wife?
Time to marry Richter.

>>4071238
Fuck you dad, I don't want any of the produce off your thot market.

Writing.

>>4071497
>Time to marry Richter.
Does the faith of the judge condemn homosexuality ?

“…Could I…could you…tell me about them..?” You didn’t know what this goon thought of your current manner of speech. He hadn’t reacted in any way, maybe he was paid to not react. “…I cannot say…I remember any of them…”

“Yeah, no big deal,” the black goateed man said, “Hell, I’ve got pictures of ‘em even. Figure you’d have other things on the mind, where you’ve been. Gimme a moment.”

As the man shuffled in his pocket, you asked something else. “…Also…what if I…already…found a wife..?”

The man’s hand froze, and he stared at you. “Well, you’re not married. Not in no matrimony recognized by the Archduchy at least, not one that took place in any courtyard nor under any steeple still standing, so, you haven’t. If you mean you found a broad, depends. How much money she got? She important? If you don’t have a good answer to those, you sure as hell have not found a wife. Nobody cares if you fuck her on the side, hell some even expect it, but you aren’t marrying whatever backwater bitch you found, and your daddy’ll say the same. Get my meaning?”

“…A more pleasant and concise….phrasing…would have conveyed the same…”

“Just saying how it is, milord.” The man in the khaki coat pulled the photos out, and made them into a little stack, pulling off the first and handing it to you. “First off. See her? That’s Wilma Van Zwarteklif, family from East Valsten. Last was heard from the Zeelands, that family’s got some push down south. It’d be good for when the maelstrom’s clear out.”

The photograph was black and white- Wilma was photographed from the waist up, arms held in front, with a light colored shoulder-less dress clearly picked to draw a suitor, by whomever had her wear it, probably. Her long hair was some light tone, possibly pale brown or blonde. She had a rather unfortunately bulky nose. “…Look at that nose…” you could help but murmur doubtfully.

“’s got other qualities,” the goon pointed lower. Well, yes, she was quite voluptuous, but…you doubted you would be told her hobbies, her interests, or much beyond what potential was seen in putting her in your possession like a trinket from another lord’s locker.

Maybe you could at least try. “…What’s she like..?”

Your family’s hired man shrugged, as could be expected. “Who cares? Seems domestic enough. I remember she likes flower arrangement, chocolates, landscape painting…just from checking to see if she’s nuts.”

“…Why would she be “nuts”..?”

“She’s not,” the man said dismissively, “Anyways. Bachelorette two. How you like?”

Another photo handed to you. This woman was photographed from a relatively flat, frontal angle, that did her no favors. She was quite plain, with an expression of clear discomfort, forcefully tamed black hair tumbling from her head and floating just above her eyes in front and past her neck elsewhere in a curly mop. Her apparel was clearly not the normal for her, and predictably, had probably been dressed and groomed to try and attract a suitor.

“Von Schneeberg, Klaudia. Sole heiress, she’ll inherit a good pile of Altossian farmland on the more fertile side of the mountains once daddy bites it from that bad heart keeping him in bed in, maybe a couple years. Don’t tell anybody you heard that though, he’s been trying to look healthy. His daughter though. Complete doormat. An easy mark.”

A frown pulled your mouth down at that comment. No gentleman should look for that sort of trait specifically. Marrying this young lady in a cynical bid to claim her possessions was also ungentlemanly- but would she draw another sort of suitor considering her described nature? She was quite ordinary looking at best, but to say something kind of the poor woman, she had that sort of vulnerable look and disposition that couldn’t help but draw some pity from you.

“Third. Molle, goes by Molly, Von Stropfe. Her uncle’s the Defense Minister, her folks are big in the army in general.”

The woman of Von Stropfe was regarding the camera with fierce, disapproving eyes and a cold frown, a sharp contrast to her long, luxurious dark hair, falling so far down it went out of the portrait, a long tight braid at each side of her head. Her hairpiece was a trio of roses with little white flowers accompanying them, but despite every attempt to pretty her up for a portrait, it seemed she hadn’t accepted being put into a dress; she wore a light long sleeved dress shirt and cloth jabot, a round jewel at her throat under the collar, wear not unusual for a young nobleman…at least, from what you remembered from the academy.

“Quite a tomboy, in case you couldn’t tell. Did a couple years as a retinue in the northern Grenzwacht.” The border patrols and home guard, who maintained order along the edges of territory and in rural places. “Few years later, she’s yanked out, got too hot in a little exchange of hate and discontent with some northern mercs or something. Who cares about the details, obviously daddy and uncle’s little girl ain’t allowed to get hurt. ‘Course, she don’t want to get married, putting my bet on that being ‘cause she’s already got someone in mind who she’s not allowed to nab. Maybe you can bond over that, maybe you come to an agreement. Who gives a damn, all that matters is that the line keeps going, and that there’s no cunt we never knew about twenty years later saying they’re firstborn. Next. Last one.”

Immediately, for once, you knew who the person in the photograph was. “…Wait…” you held a slow hand up, “…This one…this one is married…already…”

“What?” the goon leaned forward and squinted, “No she’s not. Mathilda Von Blum ain’t married.”

“…No, that is…Maddalyn Von Blum…”

“No, it ain’t, trust me. The older sister’s been betrothed a while. Now listen, this runt’s young and she looks even younger, but her daddy’s rich-rich. You know the Von Blums, of course, territorial lord. You can’t get much higher without being the Archduke himself. She’s the last kid, nowhere near actual succession, but it’s an in, and it’s a guarantee of wealth. She wasn’t available ‘til pretty recent, so, hey, one more on the list.”

This was Mathilda Von Blum? You squinted at the photograph. No, you hadn’t been mistaken. She was identical, right down to the mole under her eye…were they really so similar? You’d heard, but you thought something was different… “…How old is she..?” you couldn’t help but need to ask.

“Yeah, I know. Eighteen, late last year.”

More squinting, though the disbelief was cooling. While the resemblance was uncanny, you didn’t think you’d ever seen a dour expression like Mathilda Von Blum on her elder sister. Maybe Richter would know, being engaged and around one another surely meant he knew a breadth of her expressions. The resemblance would be less eerie if they at least acted significantly differently.

“…May I keep these photos..?”

“Sure, but you gotta tell me who to tell your folks you want to marry. If you say you don’t know, they’ll probably just go with the richest one. So unless you’re into, well, that, gimme a name. Pretty funny they’re letting you pick at all, but, hey, it’s an olive branch I guess.”

You flipped from picture to picture, your brow tightening and wrinkling with each switch. How could you decide something like this now? This was for a family you didn’t know, women you didn’t know, a self you held only a scant grasp upon. How come you had put this off repeatedly? Why did the you of the past dump this on the you of now, who had nothing to decide upon? For whatever reason, you’d blown off doing this to the point where now, your family had lost patience. The time to decide who to be paired off with was now, and you had no way to decide. Why had you been allowed to choose at all?

Maybe you should simply let yourself be betrothed to the preference and be done with it. Von Tracht had done so, and he seemed content, even happy with the result from what you’d seen of his interactions with his fiancée. Though he could do to behave himself more strictly. Then again, none of them seemed terrible, though would this man really tell you if they were? The focus appeared to be on profit, not cultivating affection. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want to be trapped.

With how things were with your psyche and being in a dangerous area though, maybe you’d die before you had to worry about it anyways. Morbid, but a conclusion that occurred to you quite quickly.

>Pick one to be betrothed to. It wasn’t like there was any point in refusing; like was said, you at least had a choice. (Who?)
>Say that you couldn’t care less. You refuse to be stuck in this marriage you can’t refuse, anyways.
>Maybe you should ask Frederick. He probably knows you better than you know yourself, at this point.
>Other?

Actual pictures to come later in case I take way too long as usual, plus delays.

>>4071652
>Does the faith of the judge condemn homosexuality ?

Depends on the sect. The Cathedra is less harsh upon it than the Eastern church, and post-Imperial belief is all over the place. It's generally frowned upon and discouraged, but it's a matter of social ostracizing rather than, say, tossing somebody off a building.

>>4072094
>>Pick one to be betrothed to. It wasn’t like there was any point in refusing; like was said, you at least had a choice. (Who?)
Knowing Metzeler's tastes, the Von Schneeberg girl seems the most like his type.
Though imaging him and Richter being in-laws is also pretty funny.

>>4072094
>Pick one to be betrothed to. It wasn’t like there was any point in refusing; like was said, you at least had a choice.
Mathilda Von Blum. Brothers in-law with Richter at last.

>>4072094
>Maybe you should ask Frederick. He probably knows you better than you know yourself, at this point

Or if we want to be really cynical, take him to Yva for a little mindfuckery. We already know she can magically charm people. Damn wizard.

>>4072094
>this runt’s young and she looks even younger, but her daddy’srich-rich.
Hahahaha!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
>Pick one to be betrothed to. It wasn’t like there was any point in refusing; like was said, you at least had a choice. (Klaudia Von Schneeberg)

>>4072094
>Maybe you should ask Frederick. He probably knows you better than you know yourself, at this point

>>4072094
>>Pick one to be betrothed to. It wasn’t like there was any point in refusing; like was said, you at least had a choice. (Klaudia Von Schneeberg)

>>4072094
First of all, this guy's background checking skills are suspect, because Mathilda is batshit crazy.

Second, I thought Mathilda was Maddy's twin. If she's that much younger and looks identical down to the moles, something REALLY FUCKY is going on. Likely of supernatural character.

Third,
>What will happen if we just refuse to marry at all?
>Can we just make the guy stay here and not return? At least until we get a grip on our own wishes and priorities again?

Barring that, my choice would be
>Klaudia Von Schneeberg
Though Molle Von Stropfe tickles my personal preferences, the situation really doesn't allow us to choose her.

>>4072217
>because Mathilda is batshit crazy.
He's a goon, not a spy.
Just like most people wouldn't know Maddy was blind, most people wouldn't know how toxic Mathilda can be with her sister unless they could see through the walls of their castle.
>I thought Mathilda was Maddy's twin.
Nah, they aren't twins.
Yah, something incredibly fucky is going on. That's been all but shown.
The questions at this point are WHAT and WHY.
Let's hope we can keep Richter and by extension Maddy alive long enough to find out.

>>4072233
From what it seems Mathilda is only really toxic towards Maddy. My guess is whatever happened with their mother somehow involved Maddy in some form which is why her father and (full) sister seem to ostracize her.

>>4072094
>>>Pick one to be betrothed to. It wasn’t like there was any point in refusing; like was said, you at least had a choice. (Klaudia Von Schneeberg)
von Metzeler probably wants a girl he can protect and charm with his chivalry crap. Plus if she's timid she won't ask too many questions about his crippling autism if the fear persists that long. Plus having a lot of land is always good, especially for someone who wants to be independent from his own family.

As I anticipated, due to drowsiness and other distractions, I don't have your pictures ready yet, and I'm about to go and have my evening devoured. I'll try and have it soon after getting back, even though time allowed to mull it over means I probably won't call the vote until tomorrow. After all, even if you're more into personality than looks, it'd be in character to know.

And the current vote is swinging to the...well, homeliest.

>>4072646
Ok, may Anya tender your body well in your sleep, tanq. Waiting warmly.

>>4072646
Qm bout to make poor Von Schneeberg the ugliest girl in the whole quest.

>>4072094
>Say that you couldn’t care less. You refuse to be stuck in this marriage you can’t refuse, anyways.

>>4072646
Well Metzeler isn't into tomboys and Mathilda's Mathilda so guess the homely options it is

>>4073230
>so guess the homely option it is
>forgetting about poor Wilma Van Zwarteklif
You might be talking different if her nose isn't as big a deal compared to the rest of her.

File: youalreadyknowwhatmathild(...).png (716 KB, 1800x800)

716 KB PNG

Was going to make this more organic but at this rate we'll be here all damn week.
I'll leave this for a bit in the interest of a fair shake then count everything up and update before I have to leave for opening night.
They're in order of introduction but I'd hope I did a decent enough job that that was clear anyways.

>>4073716
Klaudia a cute, CUTE!!!

>>4073716
Oy vey!

>>4073716
Wilma a cute despite her nose.
Marrying Klaudia seems like kicking a puppy.
Molle looks like she would shank us in the nuptial bed.

Actually, you know what? Let's tell our parents we're going to marry Eakova. Then they disown us and we can court Yva in peace.