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/qst/ - Quests


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Lark had changed a great degree over the past months. It had been a quiet (for Sosaldt) village for decades, shielded under the protection of nearby Todesfelsen, and after a brief shootout during the rise of what would become Mittelsosalia, the village had swollen into a town, largely to service traffic heading in and out of the former city-state. A role it had played to a degree in the past, but the amount of cooperative travel had exploded since the territory had been united under one banner, the roads patrolled by a singular power, and though currency was still a mix of whatever was available with a preference to East Valsten or Vynmark’s trade-backed money, as Republican Soldiers could be found in outposts all over, force was increasingly a less valuable commodity within the borders of a new nation enforcing peace within its expanding borders.

Most of the same people who had been in the town before remained still. The martial types had never been ones to remain there rather than seeking greater opportunity- and most did not return. Save for a select few.

“Urgh.” Anya was laid up in bed, with a book. The worst part of being wounded- and she’d been told that it might take a year for her arm to get back to normal after the surgery. ”If it’s ever normal again.” Hogshit, it’d get better. She always did, like that time just before where she’d had a knife struck right into her chest…but for now, she was down an arm, and though she was good with both hands…there wasn’t much she could do with just one, that had any lasting zest to it. Complaining about it to Alina led to a stern reminder that the normal in Sosaldt for the sort of injury she’d suffered might very well have been an amputation, rather than the most advanced surgical treatment that the Archduchy could procure. Hell, at least that would mean she wouldn’t have to lie around, waiting for the nagging, burning stinging to get tiring enough to stand a hit of morphine.

Anya was afraid of that innocent looking dark glass bottle. The release was sweet- so sweet, she remembered, that her mother’s mind was destroyed by it for as long as she could remember.

“I have food for you, Anya,” Alina came in through the door. This place was a little cottage that Anya’s money had bought- though some sponsorship from the Republic had come too. Appreciation for what Blind had done, since Mittelsosalia didn’t have any shiny medals banged up to give out yet. “What’s that look for?”
>>
“Nobody ever teach y’ to knock? Anya said in a low growl.

“Knock for reading? You’re in a mood, aren’t you.”

“I could’a been doin’ somethin’ else.”

“When are you not doing that, you vain-“ Alina shook her head and shut herself up, “Anyways, if I ever learned to knock it wouldn’t be from you, would it,” she set a tin bowl on a wooden platter on the bedtable next to Anya. The room didn’t have much in it, but Alina had been doing her best to give the place life even if Anya had no intention of staying.

Anya glanced over at the bowl. “A mouse’s share of gruel again?”

“You were complaining about gaining weight,” Alina scolded, “If you don’t want to gain weight, you need to eat less. I don’t need to hear you complaining about making you fat along with everything else.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Anya picked up the wooden spoon and closed her lips around a testing pinch of soft barley, “…It’s better this time.”

A nice thing out of the mouth of Alina’s surly older sister, for once. “Thank you. I asked Old Uwen about making things taste better without butter or sugar. There’s bits of dried fruits and nuts. Not quite a mince pie. Imagine what your man would think if you came back to him with a paunch.” Anya didn’t snap at that tease- Alina felt she could try for more. “How do you like that book I got for you? It’s very popular with women, I’ve heard.” Even though Anya wasn’t very girly, most of the time.

“I saw a movie of another one of this stupid broad’s books,” Anya said, “I hated it.”

“You’re already halfway through, though?” Alina observed with a coy lilt in her voice.

“I skim through until the good bits.” Anya said flatly. “Can’t skip through a movie. Unless you go up to the projector and start rippin’ out all the crap parts I guess.”

“Hm.” Alina nodded, tilted her head; she’d never seen a movie, but Anya had seen several now, and could be coaxed into talking about them if she wasn’t especially irritable in trying to push through pain. “A Wandering Market is going to be setting up in Todesfelsen tomorrow. I’m going to go there with some friends. Do you want to come?”

“I don’t wanna hang out with your friends,” Anya spat, “…I’ll hang out with you though.”

Alina sighed to herself. It would have to do.

-----
>>
March 4th, 1933

The sun was getting low. Artillery boomed intermittently, both east and west. The war continued, after all, but now where you were digging fighting positions with the rest of your platoon, plus one new additional tank and the squad of panzergrenadier assigned to you. Sometimes, a few shots cracked off closer, piquing every man’s attention

You were in no place to be the one making a decision, but this was an exceptional occasion. Richter Von Tracht, Lieutenant and commander of an m/32 in the Silver Lances, was not even a platoon leader, after all. Information had come to you that might involve defying the will of your company commander, indirectly, by motivating your platoon commander to act aggressively in reaction to a missive you’d been given by the Intelligence Office…that the Netillian tank ace, the so-called Crown Taker, was going to be waiting for you to come for his head.

It wasn’t so simple as taking a stroll down the road and meeting him. The town the IO had told you he was waiting at was presently behind enemy lines- the war wasn’t going to be giving your own priorities any respect, and you didn’t expect it to. Presently, the Netillian Militarists that were your opponents of this conflict had dug in, and were thought to be building up strength for a counteroffensive after their defeat at the Battle of Sundersschirm had left them sprawling, internal divisions in Netilland causing an unknown amount of chaos in their ranks and field organization. After days of avoiding decisive battle, however, they were finally showing a firm resistance ahead. Enough of one that your company commander had relayed orders to prepare defensive positions. Higher command evidently expected a counterattack soon.
>>
Thus was the issue. Crown Taker was waiting at Alkenssand, ten kilometers to the northwest- and would be, for whatever reason the IO had tempted him with, for three days. The Netillians probably weren’t intending on letting anybody go that far, so soon. Neither, you anticipated, were your unit leaders. Pfortner would not let you gallivant off into, and beyond enemy lines, to fight a duel he surely saw as needless theater in the midst of a war. Vehrlors, though…he had wanted to go after Crown Taker when he had arranged a meeting with you back in Sundersschirm. If you went to him and told him what was happening…he would be more than willing to embark on a raid for Crown Taker and Crown Taker alone, or do his best to hurl as much as he could gather towards the purpose of killing this enemy.

So was it responsible to share that information now? To potentially set off immediately on a crusade for the enemy ace? You only had three days to decide that, before any opportunity to secure vengeance for your comrades was squandered. Word had gone around that, despite the resistance still put up by the Netillians, this war couldn’t last much longer. While Alpha Two had begun with matters very much in doubt, the Military Council’s hold over Netilland proved to be far more precarious than any could have hoped, and with the abduction of their leadership and the loss of faith in the Defense Party to defeat Netilland’s enemies, the odds appeared inevitable…

>Tell Vehrlors that Crown Taker was waiting for you. This wouldn’t get any easier over time. You had to strike now, before the enemy grew stronger, before they attacked. Before Crown Taker got impatient and came for you directly, with more help.
>Wait. You could tell Vehrlors what was happening any time in two days or so. Otherwise you might be throwing everything away- including a potential best opportunity to properly attack.
>Toss the paper. Let Crown Taker be, if he was going to wait instead of coming to you. There was no need to fight him.
>Other?

Pastebin for past threads- https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
Twitter for announcements and shitposts is @scheissfunker
>>
>>5219252
>Tell Vehrlors that Crown Taker was waiting for you. This wouldn’t get any easier over time. You had to strike now, before the enemy grew stronger, before they attacked. Before Crown Taker got impatient and came for you directly, with more help.
He needs to be taken out as soon as possible. He's an extreme danger to any future mission, especially one involving a potential counter offensive from the enemy.
>>
>>5219252
>Tell Vehrlors that Crown Taker was waiting for you. This wouldn’t get any easier over time. You had to strike now, before the enemy grew stronger, before they attacked. Before Crown Taker got impatient and came for you directly, with more help.

Much as I would love to avoid him entirely I doubt that's possible given the (hopefully) last-ditch Net counterattack coming soon.
>>
>>5219252
>Toss the paper. Let Crown Taker be, if he was going to wait instead of coming to you. There was no need to fight him.
>>
>>5219252
>Tell Vehrlors that Crown Taker was waiting for you. This wouldn’t get any easier over time. You had to strike now, before the enemy grew stronger, before they attacked. Before Crown Taker got impatient and came for you directly, with more help.
>>
>>5219252
>Toss the paper. Let Crown Taker be, if he was going to wait instead of coming to you. There was no need to fight him.
>>
>>5219252
>Wait. You could tell Vehrlors what was happening any time in two days or so. Otherwise you might be throwing everything away- including a potential best opportunity to properly attack.

We'll tell him, but tell him last. He's already proven to be impulsive. We're going to need more help than just our team. And we need a great deal of information before committing.
>>
>>5219252
>Tell Vehrlors that Crown Taker was waiting for you. This wouldn’t get any easier over time. You had to strike now, before the enemy grew stronger, before they attacked. Before Crown Taker got impatient and came for you directly, with more help.
We're not the ones that need to be prepared besides keeping ourselves battle ready, which we are. If the IO has given us this window, that must mean that they're ready. Time is only acting against us here.

>Crown Taker was waiting at Alkenssand, ten kilometers to the northwest
Do you mean northeast? Sure we invaded this country from the southwest right?
>>
>>5219252
>Tell Vehrlors that Crown Taker was waiting for you. This wouldn’t get any easier over time. You had to strike now, before the enemy grew stronger, before they attacked. Before Crown Taker got impatient and came for you directly, with more help.
I only want to tell him now because he might have some favor or pull to be able to do something we cant even with a couple days to plan. Vehlors is going to want to head out immediately but we cannot let him do that. Right now I bet Planckner would follow us and not Vehlors, so we control half the platoon's firepower and I bet that will be enough to bargain for him to give us at least a little time to try to assemble something to help us out.

What that help could be, I'm not sure. Maybe we could "borrow" some equipment, maybe we could get a few other people with a grudge against crown taker assigned to go on a patrol and they can help us out. Maybe we can hit over a Net outpost or fighting position and steal something.
>>
>>5219261
>>5219317
>>5219420
>>5219603
>>5219640
It's time to end this. As soon as possible. It won't get any better with time.

>>5219355
>>5219538
Forget the Crown Taker. This war was enough trouble without a warrior as mad as he is skilled after you.

>>5219558
Delay some. Try to find out what's happening more certainly for this duel.

I'd normally update right now but the day I posted this I started coming down with a cold and now it's well stuck in, and I feel like a load of shit. Hard to think about writing much with postnasal drip and your sinuses doing their best to make you miserable. Maybe I'll feel better by the latter half of the day.

>>5219603
>Do you mean northeast? Sure we invaded this country from the southwest right?
You did, but nah, the target settlement is northwest (or more accurately, north-northwest). Mind you, it's from your current position, and the actual line of battle is messy and uneven.
>So where exactly are we?
We'll get to that. At some point. Maybe.
>>
>>5220179
Not to let an opportunity go to waste while there's a lull...
Tanq, did the gunshield of the T-8 SPG extend around to the back of it's fighting compartment, or was it only protected on the front and sides?
There was mention of the crew positioning themselves to avoid snipers, so I'm guessing it lacked a complete roof, but I don't think we ever saw enough of one from behind to confirm.
>>
Alright I don't feel much better from this morning but I'll have to try my best to not let this day go completely to waste.

>>5220480
>did the gunshield of the T-8 SPG extend around to the back of it's fighting compartment, or was it only protected on the front and sides?
This led me down a funny rabbit hole. Despite making the design, multiple images of it, and thus said images being somewhere in my drives, I couldn't find the T-8 SPG anywhere save for in update pictures.
I guess I'll have to remake it at some point. There is a partial roof, though it doesn't extend very far at all and might only at best cover the very front crew on the gun if they leaned into it as best they could, or perhaps even only protect gun instruments. Either way, most of the gunshield's protection is indeed the front and the sides.
>>
The Crown Taker did not have to be fought. Throwing yourself into combat with him would give him what he wanted whether or not you won, but despite the distaste for the duel to come, you had little other choice but to go for it as soon as possible, with all of the aid you could draw to yourself. After all, the IO had said he would wait for three days- and you doubted that number was arbitrary. By then, surely, the Netillians would be carrying out their attack, and Crown Taker would join it. Fighting the Ace was intimidating enough, without the aid of the Netillian army at his side. One way or another, he had to be removed, for the sake of future operations. Even if it would mean having to abandon the company, for a time.

So holding off on the decision to actually go and fight Crown Taker at whatever village he was loitering in would do no favors. A small consideration to hold off was made, just to collect more information- but you felt that you already had no time. All there was to do was to tell Vehrlors about this…and advise caution. He would take the whole platoon to this fight, no doubt, but you felt impulsiveness would not help you win against the enemy Ace, no matter how much anger Vehrlors had to throw at him. There were more effective weapons and allies your Captain would be able to draw up- he was a Silver Lance platoon commander, after all, not some overemotional fool with a tank.

Vehrlors had been talking with the newest addition to your platoon- a man called Barret Planckner, who had a history of deserting the Archduchy’s Grenzwacht, joining up with the Death Heads mercenary-brigand gang, then joining the new army of the Republic of Mittelsosalia. Planckner pointed to you as you approached, and Vehrlors saluted him and turned, leaving the new addition to the platoon to return to his crew.

“Lieutenant Von Tracht,” he saluted to you, “You’ve dug up quite a rogue. Interesting knowledge of fashion.”

“Well, I have my connections,” you dodged any further talk on that. This was more important. “Captain, I’ve talked to some other connections. The Intelligence Office ones…and they’ve given me something I think we’re all interested in.”

Vehrlors’s mouth straightened into a thin frown. “What sort of interesting thing is that?”

“I want to ask you first,” you grit your teeth, “To not think of doing anything too rash…I won’t be able to do this alone. I want your help, but I don’t want you to jump to doing anything reckless.”
>>
Vehrlors stared at you, tilted his head, and looked sideways for a moment after a smaller shell came down somewhere far off. “Alright,” he said as he glanced back at you, still wary, “It’s him, isn’t it. The Ace.” You nodded. “Hmph,” he trudged in a small circle, contemplating, “Fine. You trusted me not to blow up, to not go and chase him down the first word that came out of your mouth. So there. You have my word, I won’t do that. But I want you to understand something. About why we have to get him.”

You sighed in relief, and nodded again.

“Soldiers die, Von Tracht. You know that at this point. Some of us are special, some of us are lucky, but when a thousand men die in a day, that’s just the way it is. When a man takes a bullet in the back and can’t walk again, or steps on a mine and blows his foot off, we can’t cry to the Judge that that was unjust. We fight, and we die. We kill and destroy. That’s the reality of it under the chivalry and the medals and ceremony, to find the worth in it all, but that’s not all there is to it. That doesn’t mean we have to take it lying down, though. We can’t help it if our friends and family die, but we can sure as hell make their deaths mean something. That man’s killed friends I knew for years, and if we just run and leave him with his prizes after all this, no matter how it ends…I’ve failed my friends. Get it?”

“…” In truth…you weren’t sure. Had you lost comrades? Yes. Friends? Perhaps, but far away from you… “I’ve done things I regret. I’ve been fortunate enough to not have had friends killed right in reach of me, but I understand what you’re saying.”

“We’re soldiers, Richter. We have the power to make our world the way we want it to be. We only have to be good hearted enough to not use that strength as monsters.” He paused. “Things you regret, with your friends, comrades..?”
>You don’t have to answer. Not everything is your fault, but not everything was inevitable.
>>
“First,” you said, “Crown-Taker Stalker, as they call him, is at a village called Alkenssand. About ten kilometers to the northwest. He has an Ellowian-type long range tank destroyer, and a companion using a heavy tank. They aren’t to be underestimated, with that level of skill and equipment.”

To your surprise, Vehrlors didn’t demand a map to see where the enemy was right away. Instead, he shuffled in his pocket and took out a new pack of cigarettes. “Behind enemy lines. A fair ways, too. He could have his army’s help, but that far back…he wants to be alone.”

“He’s waiting for me,” you said, “That’s what the IO said. I believe them, too. He seemed like the type. I don’t think it’s the sort of trap meant to fool me. He’s the one who has been baited, after all.”

“Not like we’ll be getting out and having a talk before we fight,” Vehrlors said, lighting a cigarette he had shaken out, “…You don’t have to come along if you don’t want to. You’ve got people waiting for you outside.”

“So do you,” you said.

“Eh.” Vehrlors took a puff of his cigarette, “Not really. That’s besides the point. I know doing this is a hell of a risk, and after it’s done, we’ll be stuck behind enemy lines, and even if we win, Pfortner’s going to be pissed as hell.”

“If I shirked away from this,” you said firmly, “I’d be failing my platoon.”

Vehrlors smiled. “Good to hear.” The smile faded, “That’s the thing of it I just said, though. I know people who’ll be happy to come on this. To get even with this Crown Taker, but make no mistake, we grab everybody, and Pfortner will find out, and it’s over. No higher officer will tolerate this sort of crap. It’s us, and maybe a few others.”

“A few others,” you repeated, glancing to the Panzergrenadier.

“Probably not them,” Verhlors shook his head, “They’ll have the right to know. Right before we head out. I’m talking about people I know. From all over the division. I’m thinking on who to ask…though I’m open to suggestions.”

>The Armored Reconnaissance would be useful for the initial penetration, at least. You needed to be fast.
>Perhaps rather ambitious, but, perhaps a support gun and transport? Having artillery was always an advantage.
>Panzergrenadier. You needed loose infantry to properly watch all your backs, especially if the new acquisitions didn’t want to come along.
>Other?
>>
>>5220880
>You don’t have to answer. Not everything is your fault, but not everything was inevitable.

"I regret quite a few things, but in the end we all have to live with them."

>>Perhaps rather ambitious, but, perhaps a support gun and transport? Having artillery was always an advantage.

He's in a built up area (though deserted) and has an open topped vehicle, artillery would be perfect for forcing them out. That, or one of the 4.7cm guns the Panzergrenadiers had.
>>
>>5220880
>You don’t have to answer. Not everything is your fault, but not everything was inevitable.
"Plenty."

>Perhaps rather ambitious, but, perhaps a support gun and transport? Having artillery was always an advantage.
Air support would be better but we've made no friends in the Ellowians.
>>
>>5220880
Difficult choice for me. I like the idea for Armored Recon to help us penetrate the lines and give us more eyes in the encounter, and I like the idea of artillery possible deploying smoke to disrupt their long range advantage. I don't think Panzergrenadier would be super useful, this seems to be more of an armored thing. It's hard to decide without knowing the IO's plan for taking him out. My gut says it will be dubious to be able to use artillery behind enemy lines, so I think I'll vote for the recon.

>The Armored Reconnaissance would be useful for the initial penetration, at least. You needed to be fast.
>>
>>5220879
Getting the wife's eye ripped out for jumping the gun on assassinating Big L will always be a huge L on Richter's part. We couldn't have known he was a Gman clone person, but taking violent action against a hostage taker while they still have the hostage is by any measure a horrible move.
There was also that final battle in the now republic where we lost a bunch of dudes RIGHT at the end of battle thanks to horrible luck.
Also Hilda. Still don't know what Richter himself could have done, dealing with a woman that's madly in love with you just for being nice to her and lacks the self worth not to go on deadly suicide missions is hard. But surely SOMETHING more could have been done to prevent how bad things got for her, even if good progress has been made in setting things right after the fact.

>>5220880
>Perhaps rather ambitious, but, perhaps a support gun and transport? Having artillery was always an advantage.
>>
>>5220880
>Marriage
>Panzergrenadier. You needed loose infantry to properly watch all your backs, especially if the new acquisitions didn’t want to come along.
>>
>>5220880
>Perhaps rather ambitious, but, perhaps a support gun and transport? Having artillery was always an advantage.
A little part of me wants to consider the infantry for a chance at capturing Stalker alive and sending him off to the IO in a sack, but I can only guess how much effort in brainwashing it would take to straighten him out into a loyal killing machine or whether the Major would approve of us playing pokemon with every worthwhile combatant we run across.
>>
>>5220880
>You don’t have to answer. Not everything is your fault, but not everything was inevitable.
You ever screw up so bad with a woman you lose two fingers and half a face for it, and that was considered getting off lightly?
Would Vehrlors even believe we carried out an assassination rather than get our dick wet with the rumors surrounding Richter and Fluffy at this point?

>The Armored Reconnaissance would be useful for the initial penetration, at least. You needed to be fast.
Speed will serve us well here. The Crown Taker has gotten to choose the terms of his fights so far, speed and initiative give us the best chance of turning that around and catching him in a bad spot. If we move too slow and get acquired by Nets who can radio about where we are headed, or we cant sus out where the Crown Taker is before he gets off his first shot this will be a lot harder.
>>
>>5220929
>>5220945
>>5221082
>>5221274
Big guns.

>>5221078
>>5221538
Fast cars. Though not necessarily a car.

>>5221178
More men.

Still feel like complete trash, though not as bad as yesterday. Sort of a shame since I was intending on using these two days to get pretty far, but I guess that's just not how it'll work out. So no update today, head's just too stuffed full of snot to perform right now. I'll try for tomorrow.
>>
>>5221682
Does the IO have any idea on what exactly Crown-Taker's protege is running around with, besides that we know it's a heavy of some sort? Perhaps a list of the most common models within the Netillian inventory?
>>
>>5221682
>spoiler
That reminds me. Your mention of the Lances' founder having never actually wielded a lance last thread had me thinking: Is any sort of horseback hunting practiced among Strossvald's nobility and if so has Richter ever participated in any? His affection for the hunt and his family's relatively underwhelming status create a bit of a juxtapositon there.
I don't count on it proving essential to demonstrate any time soon, I'm just a bit curious if he ever learned to ride a horse, as so many noblemen and women do, or if that's another facet of his diminished nobility, like the lack in gentlemanly fencing ability he demonstrated at the academy.
>>
>>5221693
>Does the IO have any idea on what exactly Crown-Taker's protege is running around with, besides that we know it's a heavy of some sort? Perhaps a list of the most common models within the Netillian inventory?
They did not mention specifically what it was, but they described it as a "new type." Given that it's new and not a particularly identified type and not Ellowian, though, it can be a safe assumption to conclude it's one of the new Netillian tanks you encountered in the last battle.
What's it called, exactly? Well, no Netillians have bothered telling Richter yet, at least.

>>5221806
>Is any sort of horseback hunting practiced among Strossvald's nobility and if so has Richter ever participated in any?
Yes, and no, though Richter does know how to ride horses, albeit not being particularly good or bad at it. His family doesn't own horses nor a place in any stable, and his asocial (in the past) nature meant he wasn't exactly invited on any trips, either.
Would he like to own a horse? I don't know, that sounds like something for you all to set as a priority if you wish.
>>
“Anybody who has a large gun, like artillery,” you suggested, “Crown Taker drives an open-topped vehicle, and indirect support will help our numbers advantage. We’d force him to come out of whatever hiding place he’s chosen to lie in wait in.” Though, you’d also have to get the gun over to him. Compared to fighting Crown Taker himself, that couldn’t be too insurmountable a task…

“A support gun, eh,” Vehrlors scratched his chin, “Yeah, I know a guy, he’s not too far. He and some of his people, they owe me a favor from back in Vitelia, on top of everything else. Good idea.” He stepped back, “I’ll gather up what we’ve got. Just hold here and make yourself comfortable in the meantime. I’ve got jobs for other people to take care of.” He paused a moment, “And that other thing I asked you?”

Of course, you had your regrets, but how many of them were a result of battle? Not many…and you didn’t want to be specific, not now. “I have plenty of regrets. All I can do is live with it now. I’ve done what I could to make things better in spite of my mistakes.”

“This won’t be a mistake,” Vehrlors said to you, as if to reassure something unsaid, “Come what may, this won’t come to a foolish end. Check your fuel and ammunition, we’ll need all we can.” He left you then, letting you to finish your local tasks, and prepare your vehicle and crew.

Said fuel and ammunition weren’t in the best state. It’d be enough for the operation, you assumed, since fuel and shells and bullets were what had received priority in being shipped up rather than food and drink and some sorely missed other supplies, but the tank wasn’t full up on gas or ammo. From what you counted, you’d have enough to fight through a day…though not for much longer, if you were conservative with your shooting.

The jobs Vehrlors referred to turned out to include the Panzergrenadier complement assigned to you- they went forward to scout out enemy positions, what might be built up on the line, where they were strong, at least in your sector. Small as that was, Vehrlors did intend to have a greater picture of the line as a whole. When you checked on him, he was talking on the company network, sharing with others what they knew of forward enemy presence. Some place, even as they were in the midst of building up, had to be thinner than the others.
>>
The operation wouldn’t be a surprise to the others, either. Von Rotehof approached you and, like Vehrlors, asked if you were certain about going on this expedition.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like this,” you said, “Planckner probably likes the idea of an adventure, for what it is, but, you have a wife and children. Are you sure you want to come along?”

The Elder Von Rotehof smiled. “I could die in the battlefield, or I could die of an accident in the comfort of home. We don’t need to fear what might come. I know well what I’m getting into. I’d rather not die, of course, but I won’t be leaving the rest of you to fend for yourselves. Our crews understand that, too, even if they have as little in the way of family as our Captain, after all,” he gave a small chuckle, “There’s at least one lady who’d like to see him again, I’m sure. And my little brother will be waiting for us to tell him how the rest of this tale happened.”

The crews…yes, they’d been told, but you couldn’t help but be unsure of your guarantees for their health and safety. Not against a foe like this. Yet even when you’d stated this, your gunner, Schafer, had scoffed while you all checked your positions in the m/32.

“No different from th’ rest of God knows what else the Netillians’ve got to throw at us. He was coming for us anyways. Rather get him out of the way sooner.”
“Somebody’s confident,” Hausen said up to him from in the tank, “Are you counting on this tank having more strange tricks up its skirts?”

“Don’t refer to th’ tank like it’s a woman,” Schafer eyed the inside of the hull, “Not when it was givin’ off those creepy airs not long ago.”

Malachi and Jorgen required no questioning. They’d gone with you through worse, and were perhaps more adventurous than you now when it came to reckless endangerment in conflict, for better or worse. It was flattering in a way, that when you had not so long ago been a wreck, perhaps still were, you were trusted to pull through against an enemy that had felled plenty a capable comrade already. You merely hoped that it wasn’t faith placed in denial of circumstances rather than the leadership of the platoon.

The sun was setting when Vehrlors had everybody reconvene, including a recent arrival by an armored truck pulling an eight centimeter field gun- a mobile yet still decently powerful piece, capable of firing a variety of shells. The motor transports didn’t tend to be armored, but with the proximity that field guns and anti-tank guns had to get to the enemy, you had seen that the Panzergrenadier weren’t always the sole owners of the armored variants of the ubiquitous Handelwagen.
>>
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“We’ll be going once third platoon sends a few of their people to man our positions. I might be making Pfortner mad at me tonight, but it won’t be because I left a gap in our lines,” Vehrlors looked around at the officers and NCOs present, “Here’s the situation. Our objective is here,” he pointed to a rough map, “At the village of Alkenssand. We’re going to have to go through a good portion of enemy occupied territory to reach there, but the most difficult part will be the initial line, and the secondary reserve line. The less fighting we have to do on the way, the better, so I asked around the company for what they could see.”

Vehrlors pointed to several red wax pencil markings he had made. “The Netillians know they’re facing an armored formation. They’ll have gun positions set up, obstacles where they could get them, mines, so we’d be rolling the dice to head right into their face. That’s why we have to head here, near where the chocolate soldiers are,” He pointed to a place by what looked to be a stream, “A couple of recon parties have gone out here, and made a lot of headway before they ran into anybody. They’re thin here, and they haven’t dug in. This stream is shallow, and we can ford it with no problems, over to this path here,” he traced his finger down the way, “The Netillians seem to be fortifying this set of hills in front and using the stream as the limit to their defenses, so we’re going to try and break through around this ground instead, where they aren’t bothering to set up as firm a defense, and our patrols haven’t been letting them set up any nasty surprises. I’ll bet that they’d be anticipating that to be taken advantage of by an offensive, but not a small maneuver like ours. I don’t know if we can slip through undetected, but this will be our best bet at having to do as little fighting as possible. All that’s left is the time. The darker it is, the less likely we are to be reliably seen, but the worse off we might be in a fight. We’re in no position to be popping off flare pistols all over, especially if we don’t want Pfortner up our asses immediately.”

You and Vehrlors had already talked this over with the others before. You had decided on…

>Now, in the twilight. You’d have to wrap it up quickly since darkness would be on your heels, but it would be easier to withdraw or hold out under cover of the night to come.
>In the dark, from the start. Nobody would have good visibility- for better or worse. You were going behind enemy lines, you had to keep hidden whilst you were venturing that far beyond.
>Before dawn, next morning. The dim light of the morning would let you break in, but you’d need the daylight to fight effectively beyond.
>Other?
>>
>>5222469
>Now, in the twilight. You’d have to wrap it up quickly since darkness would be on your heels, but it would be easier to withdraw or hold out under cover of the night to come.
>>
>>5222469
>Now, in the twilight. You’d have to wrap it up quickly since darkness would be on your heels, but it would be easier to withdraw or hold out under cover of the night to come.
>>
>>5222469
>Now, in the twilight. You’d have to wrap it up quickly since darkness would be on your heels, but it would be easier to withdraw or hold out under cover of the night to come.
>>
>>5222469
>>In the dark, from the start. Nobody would have good visibility- for better or worse. You were going behind enemy lines, you had to keep hidden whilst you were venturing that far beyond.
>>
>>5222469
>Before dawn, next morning. The dim light of the morning would let you break in, but you’d need the daylight to fight effectively beyond.
>>
>>5222469
>>Now, in the twilight. You’d have to wrap it up quickly since darkness would be on your heels, but it would be easier to withdraw or hold out under cover of the night to come.
>>
>>5222472
>>5222479
>>5222522
>>5222628
Romantic lighting for this particular setting. Too bad you don't have any chicks along.

>>5222574
Take a walk in the dark. Have fun driving without headlamps on.

>>5222626
Have a nap first.

Writing.
>>
…Now. Or rather, in ten minutes after this briefing was completed. Haste was of the essence- the dim light of twilight would help your infiltration while keeping you from being totally blind, but if you didn’t handle the battle quickly you’d be fighting in the dark, and no matter what you did you’d likely either have to spend the night in enemy territory, or be forced to withdraw under cover of the same night. If things went well.

“Of particular note are the vehicles we’re expecting,” Vehrlors showed the assembly a page with rough blocky approximations of the armor that you were told was on the site- two of them. “Our primary target drives this- an Ellowian Type El.Pz.7. A nasty piece of work, fast, protected from the front from our 3.7 centimeter cannons, and equipped with a 7.5 centimeter long range anti-tank cannon. One shot from this, if it lands, means it’s over. So your priority in facing this is to evade detection. We’re fighting an ace, here, so don’t underestimate him. If you give him an opportunity, he’ll take it. It has a weakness, though,” he pointed above the vehicle, “It’s open topped, so it’s defenseless to artillery or shrapnel from above. You can shoot above it, he can’t. Though, there’s another factor,” he pointed down, “I’ve asked around, and people have taken to calling this an NK-H. New type of Netillian heavy tank, deployed first at Sundersschirm. It’s resistant to most of our weaponry from the front, though its flanks and turret rim and lower glacis plate are vulnerable as expected, as are any viewports. It might be a sturdy pile of metal, but there’s no such thing as a tank with no weak spots.”

“It’s also armed with a 5 centimeter cannon,” you felt the need to add.

“Which most of our tanks don’t resist too good,” Von Rotehof said.

“Right. Now, once we’re at Alkenssand, we’ll take a brief look around and refine our plans. Until then, stick to marching order. Fenmier, your truck and gun is going to take up the third position in between our tanks. Panzergrenadiers are distributed to the tanks as usual. If we get stuck, protect the truck and gun and sling out everything we’ve got until we have an opening to push forward. Pack heavy and write any last words you think you might need, because this is going to be a bitch. We leave in ten.”

-----
>>
The sky had turned pink and red, the sun touching the edge of the earth. Most battlefields became quiet when it turned towards nightfall- raids would still occur, and soldiers would struggle to sleep even with several watches ready, and aircraft would cease to buzz overhead, but the battle would not be fading for your platoon. Abominable coffee grounds stuck in your teeth, Pervitin tablets were ready and waiting for if they would be needed in your pocket, but you needed neither to be wide awake. At least this time, you were following another, rather than being expected to lead.

All the same, when the time came, you fully expected to have to play the part of bait, and play it well, else doom your platoon to be the Crown Taker’s prey.

“Now,” Vehrlors said over the radio. You would be using the platoon short wave throughout the operation- there was no choice. The enemy wouldn’t be kept blind to an armored platoon operating in their midst, and you had to be perfectly coordinated. Potential interceptions were an acceptable sacrifice given the rapidity of what would be taking place. “We don’t stop now. If you’re made to stop, say if we need to fight you out long enough to bail, or if you intent to catch up. At contact, shoot the first thing you can immediately. Fire first, ask questions later. Drive.”

“Drive,” you relayed to your driver, already in position as fourth in the column, Planckner behind you. M/32s had taken up your positions, as had panzergrenadier, who were replacing your adventurers now on your hull. They would hold, or at least, hopefully, not have to for long before you returned, however that might go.

The rumble of the tank engines was usually reassuring, but now, you longed for the old X tanks, who were quieter running when swift, as you all set out into the red light to make for the place of battle…

>Roll 3 sets of 1d100 for your progress, DC roll under 35, 45, and 60. You may reroll one, once. However many you fail will determine your encounter/s.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>5222732
Alright baby! Let's get this shit!
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5222732
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>5222732
>>
>>5222735
>>5222739
>>5222742
Nice. Nice. Aaaaaaand Nice.
Didn't even need a reroll.
>>
>>5222735
>>5222739
>>5222742
Well. Alright then.
I do have to go to sleep now, though, so update won't be for a while.
>>
>>5222735
>>5222739
>>5222742
Didn't know Vehrlors commanded Ghost Platoon.
>>
>Brilliant Success

There had been doubts in your mind concerning the wisdom of charging through enemy lines, even at their thinnest part, but you scarcely comprehended the infiltration as it happened, and went ahead better than you could have anticipated.

As you turned north after crossing the stream the first time, and went towards enemy lines, all of your guns were facing every angle- but the first thing Vehrlors ordered involved no guns at all.

“Four Five, Four Six,” he said over the radio, “Throw grenades behind you as we pass these trees, there’s men in holes and they need to be kept down.”

As ordered, you each threw a grenade out to the side while passing- you understood the rationale. The pop of grenades wouldn’t immediately clue enemies to the presence of tanks from afar, even if the skirmish lines you were passing knew full well what was coming through.

It was only a token display of force, and you doubt either of your grenades wounded anybody, but no shots came at you as you rolled northwards and weaved the column around clumps of rough foliage patches, sliding on snow treacherously and following bizarre choices in navigation that, though lacking in rationality for traveling, did somehow prevent you from facing any opposition courageous enough to do more than crack off a harassing pot shot or two.

“The second crossing’s coming,” Vehrlors reported sooner than expected, “This will be a proper defense line, don’t stop, but shoot at anything that looks like a target. High explosive before we pass, canister if you have it when we’re close. Rear element, turn back after we pass and continue to fire.”

He said this barely before you crashed out of a copse of winter-bared trees and over the stones and mud of the stream with a splash, and were greeted immediately with machine gun fire and the crack of an anti-tank rifle.

“Gunner, that stone to the three o’clock,” you saw nobody there, but had to guess as best you could with this pace and the dimness of light, “Blast it. Loader, load canister after.”

“On the way,” Schafer said as he rotated the turret and waited for the tank to bounce up, then down before shooting. It was off, but he could hardly be expected to hit a perfect shot with how much the tank was shifting about. The coaxial still sprayed tracers all about, Schafer’s finger clenched tight on the machine gun’s remote trigger. “Canister,” he said as the next round clanked into the breach, “Firing.”
>>
A hundred little explosions of dust and snow were kicked up, and the unlucky stone was pockmarked by steel shot balls, a few of which ricocheted back and pinged against the hull of your tank. The fire against you had lessened as the entire platoon opened up on the nigh-invisible defense line, but had not stopped, as the rude splash of an anti-tank rifle’s round screamed across the edge of the cupola’s armor.

“Turn the turret full right,” you told the gunner, “We’re going to keep shooting them as we move.”

The tank dipped up and down as you rolled over a trench, but you saw little more as the column passed the initial defenses, keeping your head within the protection of the tank. Vehrlors and Von Rotehof continued to fire ahead- this wasn’t the only obstacle.

“Anti-tank gun hit and down,” Von Rotehof reported, “Four-One, one to the left of it.”

“I hear you, Four-Three.”

You wanted to turn and look, to see what threats lay ahead rather than impotently looking for shadows behind and shooting at nothing, but you shook off the feeling, getting out some frustration by hurling another grenade behind you. It burst on the ground, but was followed by another thing slamming into the ground just beside it, bouncing off and into a thin tree, splintering it.

“There’s the third one!” Vehrlors declared, “Stay in column!”

A couple more spiteful shots went towards whatever was behind you, and another anti-tank shell snapped by the side of your tank.

“Four-Three, get the damned gun!” Vehrlors ordered.

“I’m working on it.”

“Four-Five, turn your gun forward and help take it out.”

“I copy,” you said back, and hurriedly tapped your gunner on the shoulder, “Gunner, turn the turret forward again, we need to take out that anti-tank gun.”

“Where is it,” Schafer said impatiently as the power traverse whipped the turret sideways, rocking you in two different directions at once as the tank bounced over the rough ground.

“I’m looking,” you tried not to snap as you switched to the platoon set, “Four-One, where is that gun?” You were rudely answered as the gun decided you were the best target and the entire tank shuddered as the anti-tank gun deposited a shot right into the front of the turret. It clearly wasn’t a larger sort of gun. “Never mind, I see it.” You switched back to the intercom, “Gunner, see that smoke, right by the two fir trees. It’s there.”

“I see it,” Schafer said, “Be easier if we could spread out, get that hull gun shooting.”
>>
Jorgen ran a shell into the breach, and cried out a ready signal, and Schafer was impatient enough that he didn’t declare he was firing until after the gun had already kicked back and the shell casing was clattering to the floor. “Didn’t hit,” he said with frustration.

The platoon frequency light lit up and you immediately flipped the switch to hear Vehrlors. “Platoon, echelon formation. Truck, stay behind the first section.”

You announced the formation change hurriedly to your driver, and the anti-tank gun spat another shot at you which skipped under the tank. If anything, your chaotic movement was at least making you as hard to hit for your target as it was difficult for your gunner to hit them.

Finally, a plume of smoke and dust erupted from between the two firs. “Got him,” Von Rotehof said.

Schafer fired another shot in defiance anyways, and hit the shape of the gun again. “Absolute shite,” he swore, “Other targets?”

“I’m looking,” you said, but at this point you were close to passing the line the anti-tank guns had been guarding.

Yet, you could only point out suspicious shapes still as the now echelon motored over the second line, and beyond. Past it, there was…little opposition to speak of. A tense calm descended as the shooting came from behind, then melted away, Vehrlors directing you onto a thin earthen path as you continued towards Alkenssand. The only interruption was an unfortunate horse-drawn supply train of four carriages being run off the road and abandoned, despite none of you firing a shot.

An autogyro flew nearby next, giving the platoon a wide berth as it idled at a low altitude, half hiding from you and half hiding from potential fighters, until for some reason, it peeled off and flew away.

“Our friend flew away,” you said over the radio, “I wonder what that means.”

“We’re close,” Vehrlors said back, “Maybe somebody wanted this place all to themselves.”

It was true that things had been eerily quiet- and as you came closer, as the land began dipping into a shallow valley and the thin clumps of trees became denser and one side of the road became overtaken by woodland, you began to see things, amongst the trees…

Was that a person? No, you blinked and stared at the apparition. It was the upper half of a floating, cloaked figure, with a ghastly visage but one of a sort you’d seen in Ellowie. It would vanish if you came closer. Sparkling lights hung in the air, and as you went on, you saw the coiling white light of an immature sky serpent twisting about as it moved from the treetops and over the road.
>>
“What are you looking at?” Schafer asked of you, “You’re craning your head like we’re passin’ by a Paellan beach.”

“…Nothing,” you said as you lowered yourself back into the tank, “My eyes are tricking me.” Paellan beach? Never mind that.

“We’re close,” Vehrlors reported, “We’re moving left, now, up towards those hills. Move slow, keep to cover. We have the advantage at close range, so let’s keep ourselves from being visible until we want to be.”

The intent was for you to remain hidden, yes, but as you ambled up the soft slopes of the small hills, barely high enough to rise over the village in the valley’s hollow at their peak…

“Somebody’s broadcasting something on the open channel,” Hausen said, “Do…you want me to tap us in?”

“Do it. I know who it is.”



“…You’re here, aren’t you?” A familiar voice called, distorted by the radio, “I heard tell of your coming. I can feel you. You’re here, with whomever has come with you. I know you cannot be here for the whims of your overlords, not even your commanders.”

He paused, but there was no response.

“How does it feel, Silver Lances? To finally break free of those shackles? To take this strength that belongs to us warriors, and cut your own path, free of the obligation of orders that bind you at their convenience? You are liberated, as I am, and my protégé. We are waiting, only us. No others have been permitted to interfere. This is our right, as the strongest and unbound. If you have naught to say in words, then come, so that we may speak in the true tongue of higher men. Will, against will.”

>?

Map will come the update after. Barely getting this out in time as is.
>>
>>5223321
Stay silent, see if Vehrlors wants to say anything
>>
>>5223321
"I've been liberated from far tighter chains than following basic orders before, so I can't say I'm all that impressed. What I am happy to feel is your time left in this world, numbered in seconds. Prepare to die, Crown Taker. May you be among the last unfortunate lives I have to take here."
>>
>>5223321
God, this guy is so full of himself. Don't engage his autism.
>>
>>5223321
>Stay silent
I sure hope those IO guys know what they're doing, their instructions were pretty darn vague on how they'd contribute given we aren't really coordinating with them.
>>
>>5223321
Silent is fine, up to Vehrlors.

Although I want Richter to whisper back into his mic, "Gay." and then nothing more.
>>
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>>5223321
As much as I would like to speachify against this guy, I don't think we are really on the same planet in terms of world view so it would probably be a waste.

>>5223560
But I do kinda want to call him gay.
>>
>>5223325
>>5223381
>>5223498
Don't talk to him.

>>5223339
Speechify back.

>>5223560
>>5224138
Resist the urge to accuse your enemy of being a homosexual and refusing to elaborate.
Seems like your Retinue is rubbing off on you.
Not like that.

Alright, let's see if we can get this rolling before I dive back into the wage cage.
>>
Silence. Nothing was said, even though you were waiting for your commander to say something- despite being sorely tempted to utter naught but a softly said insult as your parting words. Yet, the only sound was a soft buzz of the platoon network line being transmitted over.

“Ignore him,” Vehrlors’s voice came over, “He doesn’t have anything to say besides distractions. Come on out for a moment once we’re in firm cover, we need to plan. I half expected not to get this far…but either the Judge thinks we’re deserving, or we’ve had things arranged better than we could hope.”

Again, the officers met- every asset intact, though your fuel and ammunition diminished since the last you’d gathered. It would be enough for this fight, though afterwards..?

“This is what I could get in the time we had,” Vehrlors pointed to a scrawled over aerial photograph, barely big enough to make out any details, “We don’t have too many advantages besides our numbers. Who can say how many friends besides the other tank our enemy might have here…men are easy to hide. I want to be ready for what we can. That said, our best chances lay in if we manage to find only one of them but from several angles. Von Tracht and I’s tanks can take on that Ellowian tank destroyer from a fair ways, so it’s obvious how we have to split teams. If we pack all together, we’ll stand out too much, but if we split apart all the way, we might find ourselves face to face with a foe we can’t take on by ourselves. So, Von Rotehof, with me. Planckner, with Von Tracht,” he pointed to each of you.

“Works for me,” Planckner said eagerly.
>>
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“There’s elevation here to set up the gun at, but that big gun can take out our piece or our truck as easily as a tank,” Vehrlors nodded to the artillery team leader, “You can’t be too careful. Shoot and scoot if you have to, even though you can arc your shots. You’ll be in radio range, but we’ll try to not have you seen first. Nobody’s supposed to be bait here. Grenadiers, split into your two five man groups and stick with the tank teams. You’ll fan out in front and be their eyes front. Anything shoots at you, you’ve got the tanks to take care of it. Got it?”

The Panzergrenadier NCOs saluted resolutely. They might not have been Silver Lances for long, but despite doubts about them, you could still admire their Strossvalder Stalwartness.

“Range is going to be a factor here, too,” Vehrlors said, “We’ll probably have to get within half a klick to have a good shot at getting through their frontal armor. Side shots, we can probably be further out for. That field gun’s got the range to hit pretty far, about three klicks, though closer is easier to hit well, of course. Smoke, flare, high explosive, incendiary…yes?”

The artillery chief nodded again. “Aye. None of the fancier things I heard of, though. No Bertholite, either.”

“Shouldn’t need that,” Vehrlors said with a tilt down of his cap and a last cigarette picked out, “I can’t say I can expect where they’ll be waiting. These woods are pretty heavy on the western edge, and their best advantage is range, so I wouldn’t wait there if I were them. On the other hand, the dips between these baby hills are enough to hide tanks while letting them get up and have a clear view in only a few seconds. Any other ideas, throw them out here. Once this starts, we’ll probably be hitting each other hard and fast and it’ll be over before we know it.”

There was a thought you had- that your unspoken capabilities, namely the Armor of Fate, would allow you to serve as very good and survivable bait…but you also wondered if that would even be accepted, let alone if it was advisable…

>Make your “input” on planning. You do not know where Crown Taker or his Acolyte are. Only that they are definitely in this region, waiting.
>>
>>5224505
Are the numbers on the hills indicative of their height?
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>>5224505
How bad is visibility right now?
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>>5224505
I would think that the Acolyte will be positioned somewhere in the middle of the map to try and force us to engage him and let the Crown Taker get shots on us. I think those trees to the east can let our tanks move up and then let some infantry off to screen us. If we don't make any contact from there we are at least a relatively short dash to either the 9 or 20 hill as opposed to getting stuck in the more open sightlines in the west.

I am unsure if I want the field gun to follow into the woods or do its best to lay low behind the crest of this starting hill. It has good sightlines here on the starting hill and can be the ace up our sleeve we need to take out at least the acolyte without exposing ourselves overmuch. If we leave part of a squad at the base to the hill in that woody bit I think we can mitigate the risk of being maneuvered on. At least the field gun will have warning and I cant imagine the loss of firepower from splitting the infantry further will be the deciding factor in this.

I wonder if the Crown Taker can determine the direction of radio signals they receive. It may be something to consider and would explain why he taunts over an open channel if it helps him pinpoint his prey from their reactions.
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>>5224807
I don't like the idea of putting that gun on the hill. Way too exposed, would probably get taken out, especially if they are anticipating our general direction of approach.

>>5224505
One idea I have is to perhaps drive around the far flanks and stay out of long lines of fire as much as possible, with the notable exception of the right group eventually getting on wooded hill 16 that should have good visibility to a lot of the map. Other possible positions for the gun I've circled. One notable downside to this is the patch of open ground we'd have to cross at the road where we would be highly visible, which I'd think we'd want to either cross as soon as possible before they reach their prepared positions (if they aren't there already), or wait until it gets dark enough that it matters less. Another downside to this plan is that it splits us up a lot, and it would be difficult to bring our entire force to bear. This plan also fails to account for our role as being bait, though maybe that part can be accomplished by crossing the road in the open area.

Perhaps an alternate route that is a bit more bold, yet still uses cover (light blue) can be used where we have the gun set up at one of the earlier areas. This would better accomplish us being bait for whatever the IO has cooked up.

Or perhaps both tank squads go along one of these sides, or one tank squad takes the darker blue, and one the lighter blue route (Richter probably the lighter blue if this is the case).
>>
>>5224856
I think it would be best to keep the tanks together going either east or west, splitting up means a turn or two where the fight could be a 2v2, and I would sacrifice some maneuver capability for more concentrated firepower in those opening rounds.

I like the eastern routes planned out here, for that gap in the road I think we could consider just letting the field gun smoke it up. We could also smoke something that would cover the western yellow line as misdirection and just take everyone east. I am not too concerned about giving away our general location or movement with this, I do not think it is a stretch to assume the Crown Taker received a general report of our movements from the autogyro so us coming from the south is something he probably already knows.

Richter can volunteer to be the tank that moves first in bounding movements and and take the side of the formation closest to probable contact if we are not baiting anything just yet.
>>
>>5224567
Yes, in meters.

>>5224663
It's not good, but not too poor either. It's firmly in twilight, but getting darker, and it'll be sundown and quickly night after about an hour. You'll probably want to be snappy.

Extending voting since I know these environmental conditions are important, but didn't have the chance to answer until after work.
>>
>>5225049
>Yes, in meters.
To be more specific, how high they are at their highest point. Which I should mark their tops properly, but it's safe to assume it's the center area of them. Their edges are not as high, of course.
>>
>>5224505
I think the Ace will send the Acolyte to pin and distract us while he is moving into position. As such, I suspect the Acolyte is sitting in the open somewhere. Let's sit tight and send out infantry ahead a bit to scout. Once we know where the Acolyte is, we can hypothesize where the Ace is waiting.
>>
>>5224953
Keep in mind the gun can't just fire smoke quickly, it needs to set up to fire. Who knows if it will even have time to pack up and take advantage before the smoke it fires dissipates?
>>
>>5225137
Richter still has at least one smoke grenade I think, so if there are at least a couple more that can be scrounged up I think a mad smoke laying dash could be in the cards. That should at least give everyone time to move even if we can't sneak in any misdirection smoke to the north-west
>>
No update until late tonight, I slept in until now when I have to leave for work.
>>
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Alright time to actually write.
Hey, remember when I said I'd have this done in February, that was the real April Fool's joke.
>>
>>5226499
Hell yes, its always a good days when another Hilda picture drops.
>>
>>5226499
>dem thighs
We made a mistake lads.
>>
Too tired to update in time again, sorry. Sleep just hasn't been enough.
>>
>>5226861
cant believe the coof did you in
>>
A few different ideas came to mind as the platoon hastily planned how this was going to be done. Vehrlors had dictated that you’d be splitting up- but you were of the mind to suggest differently. After all, what would happen if both Crown Taker and whomever his armored ally was were in the same place? The odds didn’t favor even encounters. Naturally, it wouldn’t be long before the other part of the platoon would come to help, not having to be concerned with being ambushed by one or the other if both were in a singular place, but even the opening moments could decide a duel before one side even knew it began- being apart might be just enough of a weak link to steal victory this day.

Vehrlors did not want to hear it. For whatever reason, he was insistent to divide the tanks. His stance being that Crown Taker would not be close by to his apprentice- that one was a distraction to draw attention, for the other to take advantage of. The other’s slower, far better protected vehicle was ideal for such a purpose, and the two vehicle types being together would only impede one another.

Though you had an inkling of the feeling that Vehrlors was determined to take a particular killing blow for himself.

More thought was put into the risk to the support gun crew than the crew and leader themselves had considerations for. He was a rather lackadaisical seeming officer, as were those who accompanied them, and though everybody else was concerned that this valuable asset might be spotted and targeted when it revealed itself, the leader of the crew either thought it was not a realistic risk, or was a touch too accepting of what might happen should he reveal his presence in too vulnerable a place or timing.

“…Look at it this way,” the gun crew leader went over to his piece and motioned upwards. The crew elevated the short barreled gun to an impressive degree. “Cover’s not a problem. Just keep ‘em from rolling over us.”
>>
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A mutual understanding. They knew how to take care of themselves. However, without exactly knowing where your enemies were, though, little could be concluded on maneuvering to deal with them. The key details merely involved keeping yourself from being easy targets- and finding out where your targets were before they could get the first shot. To that end, Vehrlors and Von Rotehof would exploit the terrain to the west, using the shallow yet rolling hillsides to circle one side of the village, whilst you and Planckner would brave the woods to the east. Your section’s infantry would have to remain with you, with consideration for the close terrain, but Vehrlors made a decision you blinked at. His own infantry would remain on the southern hill from the town. He saw no need to drag his own part of the panzergrenadier with him, and instead, they would watch the village from the hill. Meanwhile, the support gun, to get it into a good position and also to prevent it from being spotted too easily once it began firing, would travel with your contingent into the woods until it reached an ideal spot where elevation would aid it as well as the cover of forestry.

Vehrlors noticed a hesitation. “This plan isn’t perfect,” he acquiesced, “But if we plot any further, we’d never be able to act on the perfect plan to be. Act quickly and with purpose, and we’ll pull through. We’re done here. Platoon, go to your vehicles. We’re bringing this creature’s head to the Judge on a spit one way or another.”

-----

“No response, sir,” the hunter’s radioman said, “They don’t feel like talking. Guess they’ll just come right for us.”

“Fair enough. These feeble creations of words serve most, but in a clash of will and purpose, they may yet fail,” the Ace said as he knelt on the edge of his vehicle’s turret.

The radioman and driver looked across to one another, and the driver shrugged. “If they’re here, though, are we set? The daylight’s got our best advantages, and if they wait a bit more...well, if they brought help on foot, that’ll make things tougher.”

“The Vultures will find them if our own eyes cannot,” the Ace said confidently, stepping back into his seat in the open turret, “And the night is no ally to those who cannot use their ears as well as their eyes. Keep yours to the winds, and the rest of us will keep them to the land. This is not our first battle fought without our army. The decisions are with your commander. Only think of how to carry them out.”

-----

The sky was crimson, and the shadows were long, and dark. None of your vehicles had their headlamps on, not even with dimmer coverings. Somewhere in this silent valley, an enemy waited for but a single hint of where you were, and you were loathe to present that so easily. Even if the sound of the tanks was painfully loud compared to the quiet, only sometimes interrupted by distant war that echoed over the little hills.
>>
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The Crown Taker claimed there would be no interference from that war, but he could be lying, either intentionally or not. Stray men or vehicles could have wandered over, or been deployed, with how the autogyro had shadowed you for a bit. The more time passed, the greater the risk was that this duel would be interrupted, and with your distance from your lines, there would be no friends coming.

“Hey, stop here,” Walsen tapped your shoulder, “Follow us with those tanks.”

The panzergrenadier dismounted from your tanks, and you steadily crept after them as you navigated the loose trees, wind whistling, and shapes amongst the trees tricking your senses. Could these men see what you saw? You hesitated to call out any warnings, as shapes that looked like cloaked figures were not reacted to by the Strossvalder soldiers, despite how they seemed to stare at your own people. You stared yourself, feeling like you were losing track of where you were when your driver angrily snapped at you over the intercom for not warning him about a particularly heavy tangle of tree roots.

A shake of your head. This had happened before- Twaryian soldiers’ cowls being unfortunately similar in appearance to phantoms, but they moved in groups, rather than lurking like…

A shot cracked in front of you, a very strange, unique sounding rifle shot, and the edge of a tree blew away beside a panzergrenadier, whose hand snapped to his face with an alarmed cry as he took low cover. Immediately, another soldier sent a burst of machine gun fire forward, then another, before waiting. You ducked completely into the cupola, not willing to be the most obvious target for a marksman. Great. It had been a bit much to hope the only foes would be tanks, but how many were there?

The same distinctive shot. Perhaps there weren’t that many at all, as this was replied to with several Hagen rifle shots.

“Where are they?” a panzergrenadier demanded hoarsely, but he got no answer. The advance had come to a halt on the end of the vehicles, even as the panzergrenadier crept forward.

“Four-Five,” Planckner hissed, “What’s the holdup? They know where they are now…”

>The panzergrenadier needed you once they flushed out what was taking pot shots at you. You wouldn’t abandon them- you’d help them take care of this, with fire support.
>Planckner was right, you couldn’t linger. Tell the panzergrenadier your intentions- and have the tanks roll forward again, buttoned up.
>Split up. Planckner would help the panzergrenadiers with whatever threat was here- you’d keep going forward with the artillery piece and truck to a position for it.
>Other?
>>
Yikes, all of these options feel like a gamble. Option 1 could risk the enemy tanks getting in proper position to eliminate us, or let them better identify us. Option 2 could lose us potentially crucial infantry support since we now know there is enemy infantry in the area, and our own infantry might not win, putting us in a position to be revealed/flanked by the enemy infantry. It also feels wrong to abandon the troops. Option 3 risks running into armor in the forest and being outmatched, or armor coming after Planckner, and in either case we are defeated in detail.

Maybe CT will feel bad for being given such an advantage as infantry finding us, and throw us some kind of bone to even the odds, but I kind of doubt it. At the very least, whatever we do here, we should be serving as a powerful bait for the IO.

I don't like any of these options, but I can't think of anything else reasonable.

>>5228401
>Planckner was right, you couldn’t linger. Tell the panzergrenadier your intentions- and have the tanks roll forward again, buttoned up.
>Radio in to Vehrlors that we've encountered light resistance
We can't be delayed or held in position by what might be a lone sniper, or it could reduce our progress to a crawl and leave us vulnerable. That might be a good thing for the bait objective, but I think we've drawn attention to ourselves already by being fired on. It should also help to apprise Vehrlors of what's going on, and he might have better ideas himself.
>>
>>5228401
>The panzergrenadier needed you once they flushed out what was taking pot shots at you. You wouldn’t abandon them- you’d help them take care of this, with fire support.
>>
>>5228401
>The panzergrenadier needed you once they flushed out what was taking pot shots at you. You wouldn’t abandon them- you’d help them take care of this, with fire support
>>
>>5228401
>>The panzergrenadier needed you once they flushed out what was taking pot shots at you. You wouldn’t abandon them- you’d help them take care of this, with fire support.
>>
>>5228401
The panzergrenadier needed you once they flushed out what was taking pot shots at you. You wouldn’t abandon them- you’d help them take care of this, with fire support.
>>
>>5228456
Move on ahead, and let this lay. There are bigger fish to fry.

>>5228525
>>5228796
>>5228810
>>5228922
Nip this problem in the bud, don't leave the men to deal with this when you can still help.

Writing.
>>
“We’re not moving on until we mop this up,” you told Planckner, “We’re strongest together, we can’t leave the panzergrenadier and move on.” It was entirely possible that some of these stray unknown troops had anti-tank devices, after all, be they mere mines or heavier explosives. “Aid the infantry however you can.”

“That’s easy to say and not to do…can’t see who’s doing this at all…”

“Gunner, Bow Gun, scan for the enemy,” you said, “I’ll look too.” In the meantime, you addressed Vehrlors, hoping he wasn’t behind a hill and would have heard you and Planckner last, “Four-One, we’ve encountered light resistance.”

“Light?” a questioning tone.

“We haven’t had more than a few rifle shots come at us. They’ve only been harassing. Our counter-fire has been far heavier.”

“Whatever you do, get it done fast,” Vehrlors said with a dissatisfied tone in his voice, “You better believe our targets are hearing that, and know you’re sticking around to fight.”

“I know, I know,” you said in return, “Four-Five out.”

“Not seeing shit, commander,” Schafer said as he turned the gunner periscope side to side, “Bet they’re already gone.”

“Alright,” you took off your headset and pushed to the left side of the turret to open the hatch. “Hey, Hennes!” you called to the nearest panzergrenadier, who was one of the ones you actually knew, “We need to attack, advance, you have our support!”

The panzergrenadier seemed confused, but nodded and called to his comrades whilst you closed the hatch again. “Driver, forward slow,” you said, “Gunner, anything that isn’t our people, light it up. Same for you, Hausen.” The platoon set. “Four-Six, I’m moving up. Bound up to me when I stop.”

“Roger, Four-Five.”
>>
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Despite your talk, though, naught but curses could be said about your performance as fire went out, and was replied to with the same few rifle shots every so often. You were depending on chance to try and destroy this particular enemy, and as you moved forward through the woods, you found that all you were doing was making a colossal racket, sending out high explosive shells and machine gun fire for little effect that you could perceive, though at the very least, the harassing return fire had been so disrupted by your own output that none of the panzergrenadier had been seriously wounded. Though, you could see that you were getting close to an edge of the trees, as they began to thin out over the next hundred meters.

“Four-Five,” Planckner crackled over the radio, “I think they’re drawing us out. At this rate we’re going to be caught before we catch them.”

True. Though perhaps, that was ideal..?

>Continue the pursuit, taking the lead yourself. You were forming a good distraction, for sure- and something of actual worth was surely on its way.
>Disengage the unit. Start moving up the hill again towards your initial maneuver, to set up your support gun before you committed to a fight.
>Split up the unit. One part would remain and continue the ineffectual skirmish, whilst the other would reposition. (Who, and where?)
>Other?
>>
>>5229039
>Disengage the unit. Start moving up the hill again towards your initial maneuver, to set up your support gun before you committed to a fight.
>>
>>5229039
>Disengage the unit. Start moving up the hill again towards your initial maneuver, to set up your support gun before you committed to a fight.
Wasted enough time already, this force obviously doesn't intend to do actual damage to us, and us engaging them only plays into their hand. We definitely don't want to split up either.
>>
>>5229039
>Disengage the unit. Start moving up the hill again towards your initial maneuver, to set up your support gun before you committed to a fight.
>>
>>5229039
>Disengage the unit. Start moving up the hill again towards your initial maneuver, to set up your support gun before you committed to a fight.
Luring them in a little can be good, but catching us out in a fight while our support is miles away would not be good.
>>
>>5229039
>>Disengage the unit. Start moving up the hill again towards your initial maneuver, to set up your support gun before you committed to a fight.
>>
>>5229068
>>5229094
>>5229111
>>5229140
>>5229215
Stop pressing the fight. Get that gun set up.

Writing.
>>
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No, time to stop toying with whatever bunch this was. “You’re right, Four-Six, let’s cover our people’s withdrawal. We have better to do right now.” You weren’t about to purposely mention the towed gun, even if the people skirmishing with you might have somehow noticed it. Just in case anybody found your frequency and was listening in. Out to the panzergrenadier, again through the side hatch, you called. “Back up the hill! We’ll cover you!”

The blind fire continued as the panzergrenadier left you behind and followed the armored truck and towed gun up the hill’s slope- you couldn’t know if your sporadic machine gun fire was actually pinning anybody down or if the enemy were even still here, but it had seemed before that the cessation of fire prompted near immediate pot shots from the unique sounding rifles, so it had felt proper to shoot away more ammunition than reasonable.

As soon as you followed the men up the hill, though, the harassment continued- though now aimed at you and Planckner rather than the panzergrenadier, as shots bounced off the vision blocks and around the top of the cupola. At first it was startling- then irritating, but you were too close to friendly forces for anybody to catch the tanks unawares.

No updates came from Vehrlors as you were pestered up the hill, though the 8 centimeter gun crew reported that their piece was in position, and though they had no time to fortify it, its support was now available. Though, they also had other news…

“Tread tracks and movement, Four-Five,” the radio from the armored truck reported, “Some of the guys saw it when we got up here. Heading towards us. Something’s on the move, can’t say where or what.”

You paused, and ordered your engine shut off, as well as Planckner’s, and listened…indeed, something was approaching. Something heavy and lumbering, though you had presumed as much. The Crown Taker wouldn’t take his vehicle into close combat with you, certainly. This was his apprentice…with the NK-H. Apparently confident he could take you and Planckner. He might have even been right to assume so.

“Four-One,” you spoke over the radio again as the tank’s engine started up once more, “Armored contact coming for us. Seems like the heavy tank. They’re not waiting for us to come to them.”

“Good luck,” Vehrlors replied, “I’ll say if we encounter anything. If we do, it’ll be soon…”

Your mouth went dry in anticipation. This enemy heavy tank…you hadn’t fought one at the close range you’d be dueling in these woods. Would your cannon be sufficient to penetrate its armor? On the other hand, your gunner was the best you’d ever known, and Schafer was an expert at quick and precise shots at close range. Maybe this was better for you all along?

>The enemy comes to you. What do you do next?
>>
>>5229282
>>The enemy comes to you. What do you do next?
Get everyone to mask up and load Bertholite, even if we can't penetrate the tank the gas should get them and at this close range they have less time to don masks themselves . Even if it doesn't kill them hopefully it should distract them long enough for us to get in a second shot with Jorgen's skill and/or the support gun to open up.
>>
>>5229282
Hide and ambush.
>>
>>5229282
Try to hide in bushes or tall trees and shade that we can find and idle the engine, with 4-6 doing similar but displaced from us a bit so it will be likely that at least one of us can get the jump on him. This would be done preferably a bit to the South East to limit the visibility to the North as much as possible. If he turns to approach the 8cm gun, that should expose his flank to us.
>>
>>5229282
>The enemy comes to you. What do you do next?
All of the above. Have the lads mask up, load gas and keep an AP shell handy for afterwards. Hopefully Planckner should already have AP in the tube so he can get a shot off shortly after we give this acolyte the ol' spicy keychain.
>>
>>5229282
Slinging Bertholite at him first sounds like a good idea, but I wonder if he is confidant enough to pursue us such that we can lead him into the arc of the field gun. If we don't have to knife fight him I don't want to. If he is a bit more cautious though, we might have to get the field gun to try and lay us down smoke and charge the bastard.
>>
>>5230058
Why wouldn't we want to knife fight him? Heavy tanks tend to be less maneuverable, we have a knife fighting specialist gunner, and we're going to have trouble penetrating his frontal armor at any kind of range.
>>
>>5230063
Well, I actually would, what I meant was I guess was I would like to have the chance to lure him in further to where we can hit him with the field gun before having to commit to a charge. A close range fight is our best bet but I would like to maximize our chance to conserve armor of fate. Maybe the field gun could even lay down smoke cover if they don't have a great shot.
>>
>>5229282
>The enemy comes to you. What do you do next?
Make absolutely sure we are behind some kind of obstruction and split our two tanks into reverse flanking positions.
As dangerous as the Acolyte is, the real threat is Crown Taker watching over his back. You better believe that they are coordinating, and it may even be the case that the Acolyte is merely acting as bait to reveal ourselves for the Crown Takers cowardly shot.

Even if it means risking the safety of the infantry and Artillery position ourselves and Planckner in positions that cover against long range attack even if it makes us more vulnerable to the Acolyte.
Bertholite isn't a bad starting shot, if only for the potential coverage.

>Other?
Really it's way too late to try this but we should huck some sacred salt against the spectres in the woods. No one said that Crown Taker doesn't have BULLSHIT WIZARD magical allies to aid him against us.
>>
>>5229288
>>5229573
>>5229626
>>5229668
>>5230058
>>5230493
Stepping back and waiting to spring- then opening with gas.
Is this against treaties between Netilland and Strossvald? Well, technically, you're operating outside of the Archduchy's authority, and these are not line combatants, chemical weapons were already in sparse use and you know what the best kind of war crimes trial is the one that doesn't take place so don't worry too much about it.
>>
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“Four-Six,” you said to Planckner, “Move back, we’ll draw back to cover and set up a defensive ambush.” As much as you could, given that the enemy foot elements would be watching you the whole time. “If he goes one way or the other, I want him to have to turn his side to one of us.”

“Got it, Four-Five,” Planckner replied quickly, “…Hope he doesn’t go for me.”

You hoped that the approaching enemy tank didn’t, either. After all, Planckner couldn’t weather a shot like your tank could. You instructed Malachi on how you wanted to move- and did your best to guide him backwards from the confines of your cupola while the gunner maintained a watch forward.

“Jorgen, load Bertholite,” you ordered in the meantime, “Get your gas masks ready to put on.”

“Aye,” Jorgen answered, but Schafer squinted at you.

“Bertholite. That’s a first, y’sure?”

“We haven’t fought this type of tank head to head,” you said, “We’ve shot out their treads and let bombers take care of them. We can’t do that here. I know that the weakest armor they have will be their air intakes, and we won’t have to hit near it for it to spread. At the very least, the thick cloud will impede their vision. We’ll have an armor piercing shell ready right after. I’m not underestimating this foe.”

“Hm.” Schafer allowed it, “Say th’ word for where you want th’t second shot, then.”

“Open channel again, commander,” Hausen said over the intercom, as you were finalizing your quick maneuver.

A voice spoke over the open channel- you half expected Crown Taker again, but instead, it was a new voice, albeit distorted by obstructions in the terrain.
“Silver Lances!” the voice proclaimed, “I am Erstan Hassell. Know before our battle that, if I believed it was my choice, I would not fight you. However, destiny has decided otherwise. I come at you with everything, and I expect no less from you. En garde.” The transmission stopped immediately afterwards- apparently he expected no response.

There was no time to speak of it either. Immediately after the transmission ended, Schafer reported contact. “A shape in the trees,” he said quickly.

“Fire at will,” you replied. As soon as possible, the Bertholite shell would be going out- and you’d have a moment more to pick a second shot before you found out whether that was a wise first choice. The tank was suddenly visible amongst the trees- it was indeed a familiar heavy tank shape, but your teeth grit together when you noticed that it had already pointed its gun your way. This would be closer than you intended it…

>The first shot will be quick. Where do you put the second?
>>
>>5230804
Lower plate, below the drivers viewport.
>>
>>5230804
How close is he, and is he close enough for our gunner's knife fighting perk to activate?
>>
>>5230825
>How close is he
Unclear. Within 20 meters or closer.
>and is he close enough for our gunner's knife fighting perk to activate?
Yes.
>>
>>5230804
>Right down the barrel
Since we're not going to miss, taking out his ability to fire, even if it isn't a kill shot, should be the safest play here. Hopefully the gas/Planckner/IO can follow up on this.
>>
>>5230804
>Aim at their canon
Time to hit em with the classic.
Schafer is a crack shot, we disable their ability to hurt us they're sitting ducks.
>>
>>5230804
With the foremost section of turret ring appearing shielded I would have instead suggested aiming for the coax(es) as a potential weak spot, but upon reflection I suppose the MGs together don't present any smaller of a target than the bore of the main gun itself does, so I'll go with the rest of the anons in voting for a disabling shot at/down the barrel.
>>
>>5230804
The driver viewing port
>>
>>5230804
>The first shot will be quick. Where do you put the second?
The gun, its served as a good target if we can hit it so far.
>>
>>5230814
>>5230941
Fuck the driver in particular.

>>5230829
>>5230832
>>5230878
>>5230990
Go for the gun.

Writing. I have today and tomorrow off on PTO so I'm intending to get this fight done during that time, even if I'm not off to a good start what with sleeping in and then going out and digging in the snow for a couple hours.
>>
A flash, and a burst of thick, greenish smoke flew over the enemy tank, whorling in a sickly flower shape. There was no time, and no thought, as you heard your loader slot the next shell in.

“Their gun!” you ordered- if they couldn’t shoot at you with their cannon, it didn’t matter how tough they were, “Fire at will!”

Schafer said nothing as he adjusted the aim of the cannon, and you watched the glow of an armor piercing shell strike the barrel of the NK-H’s 5 centimeter cannon, barely visible from the cloud of Bertholite. There was a pause, and then the gun flashed- but no shell came. Only a soft flash from within the barrel followed by a plume of white smoke from out the sides.

>The enemy’s gun has been sundered- they suffer a great risk of failure to any attempt to fire.

“Four-Six!” you called out on the platoon radio, “His gun’s out, where are you?”

“I’m moving, I have a bad angle,” he answered, “I see him, but he’s got shit in the way.”

Right off, though, the enemy seemed to realize their situation. A brace of objects were tossed from the top, and a series of pops accompanied a wall of fog appearing between you and the enemy.

“He’s comin’ for you!” Planckner said right off, “Around and to your left!” Away from where Planckner was trying to get an angle for a flanking shot.

“Gunner, turn the turret left, they’re trying to close the gap between us,” you said as you heard the choomp of a munitions caster firing. A cloud of white burst out over your tank, and you were thankful that you had thought to give the order to don gas masks.

In the meantime, though, you couldn’t see a thing- and your enemy could be heard, but the combination of the dim of twilight, the foliage, the smoke, and the fog of gas over your tank was keeping you from being aware of how close the enemy might be drawing. They might have had their cannon damaged, but if they were crazy enough, they could still try and use it- let alone their possible strategy of utilizing their tank as a means to simply get closer to you.

They couldn’t be allowed to do that. At the very least, they couldn’t be allowed to jump on you without it being a fatal mistake…

>Retreat- get out of the smoke, and try and lure the enemy into a place where Planckner can execute his flank.
>Remain in place- they’d expect you to retreat. They could lose you in this smoke as easily as you lost them, and you could react to them once you had a better idea of where they were.
>Advance- if they wanted to play this sort of game, you’d go to where they least expected you. Right where they were.
>Other?
>>
>>5231276
>>Advance- if they wanted to play this sort of game, you’d go to where they least expected you. Right where they were.
>>
>>5231276
>Listen carefully, and remain in place until you hear them, and move to evade if they approach.
Heavy tanks are loud, and visibility is poor. Relying on our ears here will be better than guessing at his behavior and perhaps playing into him trying to react to us. Time is on our side for once, Planckner is coming.
>>
>>5231276
>>5231320
Good plan.
>>
>>5231291
They will not come to you- you will come to them.

>>5231320
>>5231325
Wait and listen- keep an ear to the ground, and leave the movement to your ally.

Writing.
>>
No further orders came from your headset- you were content hiding, for now. The Ace’s Acolyte was no fresh faced fool on a battlefield he’d never been to- he must have been thinking about what you’d do. Instinct would have told you to withdraw, but you did no such thing. Rendered blind, you instead tried to listen- wherever that tank was, it wouldn’t be moving with any grace. Even now, you could hear it, as you deigned to let yourself ever so slightly out of the cupola, confident that the numerous visual obstructions would keep the snipers from taking shots at you, if they dared to interrupt this.

If this rival came for you, you’d react accordingly.

“I’m staying in place, Four-Six,” you said with calmness that surprised you, “Focus on getting around him.”

Maneuvering too boldly was a risk too- you still did not know where the Crown Taker was. Part of you wanted to guess at him being nearby, or moving towards you- but none of those air splitting cannon shots had rung out so far. He may as well have not existed anywhere but in your mind…

“I’m gunning for his flank now,” Planckner reported as you heard his tank adding its motor clearly to your senses, “I’m gonna need you to go for him once I have him in my sights- he knows I’m coming, I can feel it.”

“Roger that, Four-Six,” you said, watching for if any of the smoke was thinning, ordering your driver to adjust the angle of the tank’s hull as you tried your best to tell where the enemy was that you couldn’t see, but Planckner could. Whoever came at the Acolyte first, though, was sure to take whatever wrath he still had left to hurl at you, despite the tank’s cannon being seriously damaged- though you could only assume this determined enemy would risk further damage to his tank for the chance of a point blank shot…

>Do as Planckner asks, and wait for his word. He’d have a clearer picture than you did in here.
>Rush out- if Planckner was distracting him already, then you had a good opportunity to take.
>Other?
>>
>>5231399
>Do as Planckner asks, and wait for his word. He’d have a clearer picture than you did in here.
>>
>>5231399
>>Rush out- if Planckner was distracting him already, then you had a good opportunity to take.
arw2k
>>
>>5231399
>Do as Planckner asks, and wait for his word. He’d have a clearer picture than you did in here.
Planckner is an experienced tanker, and working in coordination is best. Rushing out against his plan might only cause confusion for him and give the Acolyte an actual chance at one of us when we're not attacking at the same time.
>>
>>5231399
>Do as Planckner asks, and wait for his word. He’d have a clearer picture than you did in here.
Trust our comrades, they all have plenty of experience
>>
>>5231399
>Do as Planckner asks, and wait for his word. He’d have a clearer picture than you did in here.
>>
>>5231416
>>5231419
>>5231426
>>5231429
Hold until told- your head's in the clouds.

>>5231417
Just go for it.

Writing.
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

There was nothing to do but wait- and listen. Keep an ear on the land and the air both, for the timing required of you. It was tempting enough for your foot to tap, and to order yourself recklessly forward, but your comrades were what you had and your enemy didn’t- you had to trust them.

Heartbeat to heartbeat, you stared outward, until finally, as the grinding of treads forward and ahead threatened to collide in your head…

“Four-Five, go! Veer right out of there, he’s good at keeping his front forward, but he won’t be able to do that at this range!”

“I copy,” you said curtly, and drew yourself up out of the turret to navigate once more. “Driver, quarter right, and forward!” The poor visibility would do no favors in trying to evade trees- there was no distraction from phantoms this time, lest you become one yourself.

Dark shapes lit in red glow were overcompensated for, as you swung left and right, the tank tilting so much you were confident in not being hit if only because you swayed yourself from one side of hanging over the cupola to the next, thrown about and at times, nearly out of your vehicle itself, until finally, mist swirling about by the tank…

“Gunner, traverse full left!” You stammered as the enemy suddenly became visible, and the conceit of Planckner’s maneuvers became clear. The Crown Taker’s ally had overcompensated for trying to protect himself from two angles, true enough, but the turret was also turned completely away from where you were about to stop and take your shot.

Only…though you had a firm shot on his flank, and Schafer needed no instruction on what to do, Planckner had perhaps himself underestimated his opponent as well, from how the turret stopped moving and the gun made a final adjustment…

>Enemy’s roll under 45, degrees of success apply.
>>
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It seemed certain Planckner would be skewered by an armor piercing shot- but the damage you had done had been too severe. When the Crown Taker’s apprentice fired, there was only another spray of smoke and bits of metal, and the barrel was further ruined. You yourself were too close to assume that it was merely a last desperate attempt by an already defeated enemy to show defiance- it was time to finish this.

“Fire!” One shell went in to the flank of the heavy tank’s hull, and you were close enough to immediately see that it was plenty effective at point blank range. “Once again.” Another shell, this time into the turret. “Another.” A final one into the hull. It…was done, as smoke trickled out of the enemy tank. Yet, you ordered another shell shot into it, regardless.

You looked around wildly in a peek out of the cupola afterwards. It didn’t feel like you had won a victory, not yet. It felt no safer than before, and you hadn’t a celebratory breath in your body in that time.

“Good work, Four-Five,” Planckner said breathlessly, “Thought I was gonna be charcoal there, for a second.”

“You see anybody else?” You demanded, “There’s still another enemy to account for.”

“I haven’t heard from the rest of the platoon,” Planckner reported, “I haven’t heard any other cannon fire either, though. What do you want to do next?”

>Wait here. This was a solid position, and the other target would be drawn to you here, surely.
>Leave the panzergrenadier here- they can provide support and protect themselves well enough while you moved north.
>Pack up everything and reposition. (Where?)
>Other?
>>
>>5232211
>Pack up everything and reposition. (Where?)
Move to Hill 9, see if we can re-establish comms with Vehrlors
>>
>>5232211
>Pack up everything and reposition. (Where?)
Move along hill to the west of hill 20.
Keep to the forest to hide our movement and keep the chances of getting shot lower.
>>
>>5232211
>Leave the panzergrenadier here- they can provide support and protect themselves well enough while you moved north.
That support gun is in a good position and has the range to effectively hit anything on this map, there is no reason to pack it up and move it somewhere else. The panzergrenadier are ideal to protect it while we continue.
>>
>>5232211
>Leave the panzergrenadier here- they can provide support and protect themselves well enough while you moved north.
>>
>>5232211
>Leave the panzergrenadier here- they can provide support and protect themselves well enough while you moved north.
>>
>>5232211
>Leave the panzergrenadier here- they can provide support and protect themselves well enough while you moved north.
>Other?
If the snipers keep pressuring the infantry then the support gun has full permission to fire and keep the enemy from being comfortable.
>>
>>5232211
>>Leave the panzergrenadier here- they can provide support and protect themselves well enough while you moved north.
Do we want to get the support gun to indirect fire some smoke cover for us when we move up north?
>>
>>5232216
Move to Hill 9

>>5232255
Move to Hill 20, and walk in the woods.

Either way you're all moving.

>>5232311
>>5232325
>>5232338
>>5232353
>>5232360
Leave the infantry and truck and gun. Only tankers allowed.

Writing.
>>
“We’ll leave the rest of our guys here while we head north,” you said, still careful not to reveal exactly what said “guys” were. “They have a good position, and we can call on them for help anywhere we might go here. Four-Three,” such was what the gun crew and truck were designated, since it wasn’t as though Little Von Rotehof was still here, “Feel free to do what’s necessary if those snipers harass you.”

“Aye aye. Good hunting.” Still carefree about all this. To be true, they hadn’t suffered much in the way of stressful combat in the valley.
Hopefully good hunting for Vehrlors too, you thought. Lack of cannon fire or no, losing contact didn’t bode well. You had to get going, quickly. Planckner fell into echelon left behind you, and the both of you moved northwards, hatches all closed, and making your pace as fast as you could. If those sharpshooters wanted to keep chasing you, they’d have to run- and you weren’t going to give them even a sliver of a target to attempt at.

The sun was well down, now, and darkness was fast descending. The stars were fading in above, and as you deigned to look up after reaching the edge of the woods north, you were shocked back to ground by the sharp boom of a familiar, fierce cannon, and return fire shortly after- somewhere to the northwest, though it was hard to say where.

“Hear that, Four-Five?”

“I hear it. Do you see where it’s coming from up there, Four Three?” You hoped the hill gave the panzergrenadier a commanding position to spot the rest of the valley from, though the trees were admittedly too thick for a perfect view.

“Negative,” came the reply, “We’re looking, though. Tell us if you want any flares or the like, we’re ready to provide support.”
>>
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You’d rather not have to use flares, but with dark coming this fast, you might not have much choice- especially if it would flush out a hidden enemy. “Four-One Actual, Four-Two,” you called again, “Do you copy?”

“………t…..n….” The interference was heavy- shockingly heavy. Familiarly heavy…what terrible timing, if that was the case…and this far back, too. No, it had to be the terrain- and bad luck.

What to do now, though…if Crown Taker was north west, he could be in a position to intercept you if you rushed too blindly over. Though if the rest of the platoon was already fighting him, then maybe you had no choice. After all, they could defeat him- but then, they also could be defeated themselves, and if Crown Taker could defeat the platoon in detail, your prior victory would be all for naught.

>Move directly northwest through the sparse woods, and north of Alkenssand. The cover of the woods was still necessary in the dark, though it would be more difficult to drive through…
>Establish a position to spot from Hill 9- you were outmatched in a direct long range fight, but if you could open up a flank, that could tip the balance so long as you weren’t too late.
>Move behind Hill 9 and move north through the village rather than the woods- it would let you maintain speed to move over open ground
>Other?

Also, if you want your support gun to do something, make sure to include that.
>>
>>5232452
>Move directly northwest through the sparse woods, and north of Alkenssand. The cover of the woods was still necessary in the dark, though it would be more difficult to drive through…
I trust in Mal to get us there safely.
>>
>>5232452
>Move directly northwest through the sparse woods, and north of Alkenssand. The cover of the woods was still necessary in the dark, though it would be more difficult to drive through…
I want to do option 2, but I don’t think we’d have the proper visibility to provide support beyond that of directing indirect fire, even if we could see the flash of his fire.
>>
>>5232452
>Move directly northwest through the sparse woods, and north of Alkenssand. The cover of the woods was still necessary in the dark, though it would be more difficult to drive through…

It isn't even because I'm worried about Crown Taker, it's more who knows if there are any lingering defenses or traps in the town proper.
>>
>>5232452
>>Move directly northwest through the sparse woods, and north of Alkenssand. The cover of the woods was still necessary in the dark, though it would be more difficult to drive through…
If the field gun can manage it, I would like them to get flares up over the hill 20 up north. The shot may have come from the north west but we have to worry about the Crown Taker repositioning, and he will at least have to be more cautious if he wants to skulk around in the woods this way.
>>
>>5232507
I disagree on the flares, using them brings a lot of trouble, and if we're not in a position to see much in the first place, their usefulness is limited.
>>
>>5232452
Supporting >>5232507
>>
>>5232459
>>5232472
>>5232487
Move through the woods.

>>5232507
>>5232556
Try and light things up over the hill, perhaps.

>>5232553
Decline on the flare.

Writing.
>>
Rolled 64, 5, 12, 71, 5, 87 = 244 (6d100)

“Let’s keep going, Four-Six,” you said, “Directly northwest through those woods. We’re swinging north of the village.”

“Roger that, Four-Five,” Planckner replied.

These woods were much less dense than the ones you came from, but it had also gotten darker- it would be a bit a chore to navigate them, but not only did you not want to underestimate your opponent, but you were wary of any lingering traps or unexpected complications that might be on the village or roads, for what they were. The man had been waiting here for you, after all, and for all the proclamations he made about a fair fight, a man did not become a tank ace by letting his enemy know exactly what he was doing, nor by going easy.

“Four-Three,” you called the support gun next, mulling over whether you ought to ask, “The northmost hill.” You requested they fire a parachute flare over it. No explanation why- if anybody listened in, even with you speaking in code, they might parse why. The intent, though, was to try and psyche out the Crown Taker from potentially relocating there.

There was a trade-off. Flares were not precise with their lighting, and people much further away would be alerted to it, but…you’d cross that bridge later. Hemming in your remaining enemy was of disproportionate import.

The shell went out from behind, a booming followed by a pop in the sky in front of you, a falling star glowing like the absent sun and casting long shadows- but not quite to you.

“…We’ve spotted ‘em, Four-Five,” the gun crew reported to you, and that same report was followed by another series of cannon blasts, echoing over the valley and washing back over…

>Rolling 6 d100. The first 3 are for initiative- the last 3 are for hit chance. The three are, in order for both first and second set, Stalker, Vehrlors, and Von Rotehof. Crown taker has a +15 to his initiative roll. Vehrlors and Von Rotehof have a Roll Under 70 and 40 to hit effectively. Crown Taker cannot miss- degrees of success are measured as though rolling under 101.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>5232806
>Crown Taker cannot miss- degrees of success are measured as though rolling under 101.
Bruh. Yikes.
Alright then...
Here, we, GO!
>>
>>5232825
That is a nice roll, but this has already been decided.
>>
>>5232837
Ah.
"Rolling 6 d100"
Not "Roll 6 d100"
So I guess Vehlors got his hit in...assuming Stalker's shot didn't fucking kill him first.
>>
It had been over faster than Vehrlors would have liked. He would have wanted a struggle, a chase- but this enemy, for all his animalism, was resolute. He faced his enemies- and when the Captain realized that…he made a decision. He was never going to win by shrinking away from death- so he asked his crew to stare it in the face.
>Ace Officer Ability: Die Hard- No matter what, your attack goes through.

The Netillian struck true- though not perfectly. The armor was broken, the tank smoked inside, but after the short running battle, with Von Rotehof doing his best to distract the enemy, Otto Vehrlors watched through the blood in his eyes and the pain all over his body, as his gunner’s final act was to lodge a shot into the enemy.
The tank destroyer recoiled as though struck, and then an explosion sent a searing light upwards. The rise of the sun…

…Lucian Von Rotehof would be demanding his status. For all his peacefulness, his stoic front, the man could be pushed. The radio was one of the things broken in his m/32 now, though. Much like most of the crew. Vehrlors felt himself tell the crew to bail out- but he was slow in climbing out, in staggering towards the brightly burning enemy. For he had seen one person fall out- one person he saw crawl to a nearby tree, and lean against it, sitting down.

He found himself standing before his foe without realizing he had walked all the way- as if he had been picked up and placed before him. His sidearm was in his hand, as he had expected to have to finish the job- but one look told him everything. The man’s black coat was soaked with blood, as was his smirking face. His legs were shredded. There wouldn’t be much longer- but for some reason, the enemy did not seem in pain.

“…Heh heh.” The Ace laughed harshly, “You are not who I expected. Congratulations. How do you feel?”

“I didn’t come to hear you talk,” Vehrlors spat, “I came to watch you die.”

The Ace looked up and down the Strossvalder Captain. “It seems,” he tilted his chin up, “That we’ll be sharing that final act, won’t we? None of this matters anymore. Make your choice. We can speak, or you can shoot me. I cannot deny you either, now.”

The Captain thought, the bright light of the burning tank lighting half of both of their faces, the others completely dark as the night fell in totality. He fell to his knees, then sat back again, propping himself up with an arm that had to drop its weapon- for the other hung uselessly.

“You expected Von Tracht, I take it,” Vehrlors said, “Is it disappointing, that my men and I killed you?”
>>
The Ace shook his head. “I expected the new to wipe away the old. Yet, now, we fellows have wiped away one another, and the young will walk amongst our ashes. We have left so much behind, and the thrones will be empty, until the clamoring masses find their true kings once again…” Vehrlors was only half listening at this point. He only wanted to stay alive longer than this man, wasting his energy on talking. Yet, he asked something that took him aback. “Do you have family, Victorious One? Loved ones who will miss you?”

Vehrlors stared. “My family is my unit. Men you killed. I have avenged them. They will miss me…but they will understand.” An odd compulsion towards compassion, now. Maybe it was the closeness to which they sought to look upon the face of the Judge. “You have family?”

“A beautiful wife. A son and a daughter. Yet they could never understand,” Crown Taker closed his eyes and sank his chin into his chest, “They could not understand what we have. What we take from one another…” He sank further, “You have good friends. A good family.”

Vehrlors grunted, but when he looked up, the light had faded from his enemy’s eyes. He stared a few more moments, then let his arm fall out from under him. He collapsed onto his back, and looked up at the stars.

He remembered the Orphanage. Where he and friends had decided to fight against a world that had unjustly abandoned them. He had lost them all along the way, now. Yet back then, they would see the stars, and did not see their distance. Only their brilliance- and they sought to spite any who would deny them their light.

A face appeared. A familiar one.

“Lucian,” Vehrlors said weakly.

“Save your strength,” the red haired officer knelt, “I have morphine and a first aid kit. We can save you-“

“Don’t bullshit me, Lucian,” Vehrlors said with a shake of his head, “Enough of that. I’m still in command. Don’t delay the inevitable. I feel the river taking me, and I’m alright with that.”

Von Rotehof stopped, and stood. “Do you want me to tell the girl anything?”

“I’ve already told her everything that could be said,” Vehrlors said, “My cigarettes. It’s the brand she likes,” he pointed to his pocket, “Get it out, and give me a light. We’ll share a last kiss with that smoke.”

The second in command solemnly knelt, and did as he was asked, lighting the cigarette and putting it in his Captain’s mouth, who breathed in deeply and sighed.

“Tell Von Tracht he did a good job,” he sighed, “Don’t think he’ll get here in time. And tell Pfortner that I’m sorry for going and getting myself killed, but…at least it was just my tank and my men.”

Lucian Von Rotehof nodded, and saluted. “It has been an honor, Captain.”

Vehrlors saluted back, and stared at the stars until even their light became dark.

-----
>>
You saw the fires from afar, and in a panic, called your platoon. Von Rotehof’s radioman answered- and told you news you had been prepared for, but still anguished you to hear.

The tank slowed to a halt, and you hauled yourself out and over towards where Elder Von Rotehof was standing, over Vehrlors- laying on the ground. You looked to the side- Crown Taker was like you saw him last, only now, much older looking, yet peaceful in what was assuredly death. You looked down to your former superior officer- and saw that same peace on his face.

“He told me to tell you…” Von Rotehof’s voice lacked its usual placidity. Instead, he was weary, and his voice caught on parts. “That you did a good job.”

“I could have been here sooner,” you said, “I could have been-“

“There’s no need for that, Lieutenant,” Von Rotehof snapped suddenly, “He knew this might happen. We all knew.” He stared down still, and then looked up at the stars, “…Do you have any casualties to report?”

“Negative,” you said, “Only the enemy’s.”

“Good. Good.” Von Rotehof nodded, and tilted his cap over his face, sighing. “I would ask the Judge for a moment…but it seems we do not have one…”

>?
>>
>>5232919
Let's get everyone back to the company first, we'll mourn properly later.
>>
>>5232919
Vehrlors! Fuck.
He got what he wanted in the end I guess. They both did.

>?
One last salute and then we make sure both dead and wounded are accounted for. And extract the infantry if the snipers are still out there.

Would you say this was a noble duel? Or a waste of life? Does Richter care anymore?
>>
>>5232919
Try to grab up Vehrlor an his men, to take back home.
And take the Crown Taker Kerchief and take the Medal of that one guy he got his tank from off him too.
>>
>>5232919
We still have to get out of here, if we can bring the bodies back we can try to fit them in the truck but we might just have to come back for them after we push up and secure this area.
>>
>>5232978
>>5233003
>>5233046
Get everybody ready to head back- you're not done yet.

>>5233013
Rip some shit.

Writing.
>>
“We need to get the men back together,” you looked away from Vehrlors, “And our wounded and dead. We have to get back to the company.”

“Mmm. I’ll announce it properly,” Von Rotehof said, turning away, “There’s heavy interference, though. We’ll be best off sending people to make sure the message is delivered. Remain here. I’ll convey it personally. The platoon commander shouldn’t be cleaning up when action still has to be taken.”

“Right,” you nodded, and looked back to Vehrlors, giving him a salute. “Von Rotehof?”

“Yes.”

“Was this wasted life, you think? Or a noble duel?” You asked, arm still up, “I’m not sure myself.”

“…Me either, Lieutenant,” Von Rotehof said, “I don’t think the Captain thought it was noble, but he wouldn’t have called it a waste.”

He let you be, and you found yourself trudging over to Crown Taker’s body. His breast was coated in souvenirs- trophies. You idly drew away his kerchief, stained with blood, and a medal you remembered- the one he claimed he had taken from the same Ellowian he had taken this tank from, that now smoldered beside his body. Was it to be a memento? Loot for yourself, of the same sort of trophy your enemy might have sought to have made of you? It wasn’t certain, not yet, but you felt you couldn’t leave everything there to be forgotten.

“Lieutenant,” Hausen came up behind you, “Von Rotehof said you were in charge here. The other people want to know what you want to do, Vehrlors’s crew has some wounded men that still need tending.”

“Take care of that, then,” you said, “Get the tarcloths and wrap up our…dead.” Should you propose to bury the enemy? You didn’t know if you even had time for that luxury of honor, or if they’d have even wanted it. “Make sure we have awareness in all directions. There’s still those snipers about.”
>>
Alas, despite the tension in the air, as darkness blanketed the valley, the snipers did not return, leaving you to your sad work in the dark and the cold, until Von Rotehof returned, all of the panzergrenadier marching behind his tank, and the truck driving behind as well, towing its gun. All of the infantrymen had pulled their scarves up around their faces, and uncertainty was in their eyes again- they had woken up from the glory of the expedition, and were puzzling out how you’d return.

Once Von Rotehof had gathered all the men and loaded those who could not walk, whether wounded or fallen, into the armored truck, he addressed the leadership once more.

“We won’t be able to get out the same way we came in,” he said wearily, “It’s full dark now, so it’ll be easier to move around, but we can’t all ride anymore. We have fewer vehicles, and less room in the truck besides. Nobody’s being left behind, but, if need be, if we encounter a situation where we can’t run through right away, any situation where we’d need to fight our way through for more than seconds, we’ll abandon our vehicles if it helps us sneak through. Understood?”

You coughed uncomfortably.

“It is only if we need to, Von Tracht,” Von Rotehof said, “I know that your vehicle was a…sentimental gift.”

Of sorts.

“We’ll wait for it to get a little darker. In the meantime, keep an eye out for-“ Von Rotehof stilled his tongue and looked up, then to the side. “Wait. Listen.”

Everybody was silent- in the distance, coming closer- the distinctive beating of the air of a propellor prop- low flying. An aircraft, at night?
“It might be one of those top-propellor machines,” Planckner suggested, “We’ve got tree cover here though.”

“Watch it anyways. Be ready,” Von Rotehof said, gesturing for you all to disperse- and intuitively, prepare for anti-aircraft action, though even autogyros were not easy to hit with rifles and machine guns. They were deceptively nimble if they wanted to be.

The autogyro flew over…then slowed, almost to a stop in the air, and lowered. As though it was landing…and it did, just near the village of Alkenssand. Its crew disembarked, mysteriously- three of them, and they withdrew a pole from the craft, and set it in the snow. A white trail dangled from the top- a truce flag.

“What in the world..?” You said to yourself as you peered through your binoculars. It was impossible to tell anything about them besides silhouettes at this distance and darkness, but the latter was temporary, as a small folding table was set out and a lantern placed on it. If the local snipers hadn’t been Netillian, presumably, you’d have thought this bunch utterly mad.
>>
“Four-Five,” Von Rotehof’s voice was crackly with the interference even over this short distance, “They seem to want to parley. Go meet with them, in your tank.”

“Four-Two, what if it’s a trap?” Planckner asked, “We ought to leave right now, if anything.”

“They already know we’re here, Four-Six,” Von Rotehof said, “They had no need to land. We need to go south to return to our lines anyways. We’ll just see what they want.”

Your misgivings were similar to Planckner’s, but you obeyed the new platoon commander’s request. It wasn’t as though you were lacking curiosity yourself- and as you approached the landed autogyro and the party around it, still vigilant for snipers…your curiosity was rewarded by an inexplicable presence.

“Richter Von Tracht!” a long haired officer, bundled in a coat but still wearing a distinct braid, saluted you, “How good it is to see you again, this time, without raising arms at one another.”

You saluted back, but did not exit the tank yet. “Good indeed, but…this is too much to be a coincidence, isn’t it.”

Magnus cocked an eyebrow at you. “It is. I was told you were here, and hurried as quickly as I could. I heard reports of a battle, and feared the worst when I learned who had requested solitude here. It seems that our mutual contact did not care to inform me of your precise location until you had already…finished.”

How generous of the IO to not allow any interruptions, you thought foully, but then, Magnus was of the Netillian Army. He couldn’t raise up a force to relieve you- and your own people wouldn’t believe that, either. All in all, it wasn’t his fault at all. “Do not worry about it. I didn’t come expecting any aid,” you finally got off of the tank and walked to the folding table, hands now in your pockets.

“The Crown Taker is no ordinary opponent, even calling him an elite soldier would be to underrate him” Magnus said, “I’m frankly shocked that you’re still alive. Relieved, yet shocked.”

“Not all of us made it,” you said gravely, “My unit commander was slain striking him down.”

“…My condolences,” Magnus bowed his head, “Were you good friends?”

“He was a good officer. A good comrade.” Unfortunately, your time with him had been too short. “My brethren, insofar as we are both Silver Lances…” The mood had turned dour, and you knew naught how to restore the mood, besides asking for what you sorely wanted. “You don’t have any tea on you do you?”

“I didn’t come to deliver that, no,” Magnus frowned, “I have come with an offer.”

“We were planning on making an escape. Surrender wasn’t on the table.”
>>
“Not for us, either,” Magnus said, “My proposal was thus. The New Republican Army of Netilland will use its power to prevent any units from entering this valley, or bombarding it. A perimeter will be established for your protection- and in a couple of days, you’ll be allowed to return to your units with your weapons and equipment.”

“A couple of days?” you repeated, “Why? That’s how long it might be until the Netillian Army counterattacks! We have to return to our unit for the defense.”

Magnus smirked a little. “The counteroffensive, you mean, that will never happen.”

You blinked. “Pardon me?”

“The lines between the Netillian Republican Army and the New Republican Army have been blurred for some time. Thanks to special efforts of both our men, and I hear, some of your nation’s…” Magnus pointed north, “Units that reported themselves as loyal to the Military Council have assembled in mass, and will turn their coats. The militarists will find themselves outnumbered, and surrounded, in several key places. Not every part of the front…but yours certainly included in the places where, in spite of great plans, longer term plans have succeeded in the future enforcement of a ceasefire.”

“Not every part, though,” you said.

“The Ellowian Republican Army has proven belligerent in negotiations,” Magnus sniffed disdainfully, “The New Republican Army has had to engage in unnecessary battles with them…so it was seen fit for the enemies of the Restored Netillian Republic to destroy each other. His Majesty Wladysaw has been much more diplomatic. I don’t know the details, but my superiors and yours seem to have reached an agreement for cooperation. Which is why I can make my offer…though I cannot help you return to your unit until the trap for the militarists is properly sprung. Besides, if you remain here, we can catch up…”

>You’ll have to refuse the offer, unfortunately. Your platoon has to return to your company, now that your mission is done- despite the risk.
>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.
>Other?
>>
>>5233220
>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.

Pfortner is going to be mad at us already, might as well take the personally safer option. We have a wedding to get back to in one piece after all. Good opportunity to catch up with Magnus as well.
>>
>>5233223
Forgot but also see if we can make some temporary funenary arrangements for Vehrlors and his crew in the interim, until we can return to our lines.
>>
>>5233220
>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.
A nice bonus is this lets us properly collect/bury the dead and loot the stuff.

>>5233219
>I didn’t come expecting any aid
??? I thought the entire plan the IO gave us was that we would be bait and someone else would take out Crown Taker. Now the only IO involvement we see is securing extraction? Good thing we didn't take their plan more seriously or we could be dead. This definitely demands some sort of explanation.
>>
>>5233220
>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.
>Other?
"So how shit is the hand you guys will be dealt after the war?"
>>
>>5233220
>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.

What next for him after the war, staying in Netilland or heading back to the land of his ancestors? Wlad sounds like he could use all the loyal men he can get considering the tensions building behind the scenes between the Royalists and Republicans
>>
>>5233220
>>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.
It sounds like we won't be needed back home after all, so all that getting back there will do at this point is spare a harsher chewing of our asses. That is something I would like to avoid but not at the potential cost of more lives from the people we came here with, not to mention the possibility of having to abandon our tank to sneak over.
>>
>>5233220
>You’ll have to refuse the offer, unfortunately. Your platoon has to return to your company, now that your mission is done- despite the risk.
Yeah. This seems like a trap.
Not from Magnus, but from the IO.
Don't trust it.
>>
>>5233220
>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.
>>
>>5233220
OOC, is this the same type of large troop transport autogyro encountered at the Garden facility or another model? Could we get a sketch of one of these larger non-scouting gyros, either in a thread or on twitter at some point?
>>
>>5233220
>>Fair enough. Von Rotehof might be glad to hear that you wouldn’t have to break through your lines- though for a few days your company commander would surely be furious.
Pfortner is going to be pissed anyway; we might as well avoid the risk of losing even more tanks on the way back.
>>
>>5233223
>>5233246
>>5233250
>>5233253
>>5233447
>>5233587
>>5233790
Accept the offer on Von Rotehof's behalf. Get other things done. Have a little chat.
Also suspect that the IO may not have had your best interests in mind.

>>5233450
The machinations of the homeland must reach far- and your guard is not down.

Writing. Let's see if I can get this done before I have to leave for the night.
>>
>>5233686
>OOC, is this the same type of large troop transport autogyro encountered at the Garden facility or another model?
This is a smaller model- most autogyros carry two people, a pilot and a spotter, but this one has just enough space for a third person.

>Could we get a sketch of one of these larger non-scouting gyros, either in a thread or on twitter at some point?
Sure, I have the top view so it won't be too much to draft the rest.
>>
“Sounds good to me,” you decided. Pfortner was going to be pissed no matter what you did- best to try and preserve the men and materiel left, and you were sure Von Rotehof would come to the same decision. “Let me tell my acting platoon commander. I’ll tell him you can be trusted on this matter.”

“I would understand if he didn’t think me trustworthy,” Magnus said, “But were I in his place, I’d find myself between a rock and a stormy sea, as it were. Do come back if you are not planning to retreat right away after all- we have much to recount to one another, don’t we?” As you began to leave, though, you were interrupted. “Wait. Is your retinue with you?”

“Ah. No,” you said, “She’s at her old home, recuperating.”

“Good. I was worried that…never mind.”

You would have been, too. Crown Taker would not have hesitated to kill her…no matter how fierce she was in a tank.

When you came back to Von Rotehof and shared the news, he was indeed suspect- but you told him of who had given you the offer. A man you felt confident of trusting- unlike the people who had presented you with the chance to take out the late Netillian Ace you had finished fighting this night. Exactly what help the Intelligence Office were providing, or had even planned on giving, was still vague. They’d at the very least implied you wouldn’t have to do the dirty work yourself…though they had been more than duplicitous in the past. It would have to be followed up on, because you were sure Magnus knew less than you did on this matter.
Even though Von Rotehof had decided with accepting Edelschwert’s offer after you explained your connection, Planckner was still skeptical.

“How did he know to come here right after we finished fighting?” He demanded, “If he’s your friend, he could have helped some other way, unless he liked those arse heads we killed less than you, and he’s a Netillian, so…”

Planckner was not a proper Silver Lance, but a volunteer companion. He couldn’t have restricted information shared, especially not considering his ultimate allegiance was not to the Archduchy. He’d have to be convinced with half-truth.

“Anya likes him,” you offered as a last resort with a shrug.

“Hmph. Well, Trench Face isn’t here, is she?” Planckner said grumpily, but raised no further protest. “I’ve said my piece. I know when I’m in the minority here. I just hope you’re right on this.”

“Thank you both,” you nodded to the other tank officers, “I’ll be back. I’d like to talk with Captain Edelschwert more.” He wouldn’t be brought back to where you had all made your temporary camp- an allowance for a measure of security. You weren’t about to completely surrender all other options, just in case.
>>
So you ventured back to the autogyro, on the m/32 once more. The interior of the tank was cozy- unexpectedly, the mystical armor had not been forced to defend you from a fatal blow, so whatever spirit inhabited your tank was still sated with Presence.

When you returned to Magnus, he had been talking to one of the Autogyro crew, the airman dressed in Netillian green with black faux-fur lining.

“Hello again,” Magnus said with a short wave, “Will you be staying? My couriers here want to leave during the night. Come light, Ellowian fighter craft might range over and spot the landed gyro, and flying these during the day without fighter cover is extremely risky.”

“We’re in your hands,” you said, “Though not without suspicion. We also have wounded and dead…and would appreciate aid in taking care of them.”

“It can be arranged,” Magnus said, “There’s been a route agreed upon between our territory and Von Kalderhaus’s lands. We can return the remains you have to your country that way.””

“That would be very much appreciated,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“…So. Miss Nowicki, you said she was recuperating..?”

Right. “She was wounded in the fighting outside of Sundersschirm,” you retold, “She was a military courier for Mittelsosalia, but then she found herself in possession of a tank…somehow. She took up a disguise and fought as a mercenary called Blind. I had the chance to encounter her while she was doing such- and she was badly wounded in her arm by a ground attack aircraft. Much as she might disagree, I managed to convince her that she was not going to fight further, and sent her home with her sister. She’s doing alright.”

“That’s relieving to hear,” Magnus said, still frowning, “How badly was her arm hurt?”

“The upper bone was completely broken. Amputation was considered, if not for the Archduchy’s finest field surgeons,” you said, “They expected her to fully recover in a year. Though…she does heal very quickly, in my experience.” The rowdy girl had a tendency to get hurt plenty enough. “She had been concealing a chest wound as well. A deep stab from a knife, but she didn’t seem to mind it.”

“That woman is proud of her scars, after all…” Magnus’s expression lightened, “Her hometown is…?”

“A place called Lark, nearby the city of Todesfelsen.” You thought a minute, “Don’t plan anything nefarious.”

Magnus scoffed at you haughtily.

“Anyways,” you said, “We have time before the sunrise forces you to depart. I had some questions.” Magnus nodded at you, and you started. “After this is all over…are you planning to stay in Netilland? I’m sure that King Wladysaw will want knights of Ellowie back in his service, especially since it sounds as though him and the army in exile have many a disagreement.”
>>
“Perhaps I might have, were it up to me alone,” Edelschwert said as he looked to the lamp on the folding table, its light reflecting shallowly in his eyes, “But I swore an oath to somebody dear to me, of a long time ago. I cannot recant that oath, and I swore to her that I would protect Netilland’s people. I do not think she would allow me to follow the whims of family history rather than the duties of a knight.”

“…She?” you asked blankly.

“A friend from my younger days,” Magnus said, “I am fond of her. I do not know if she feels the same, but she does have her expectations, and I respect my oaths, even if they were taken when I was younger and more foolhardy.”

“No, I had thought that…” you let it go. Anya tried to be evasive about it, but you knew of the possibility that she had feelings for this pretty man, in spite of the incredibly rocky start they’d had to their relations. To be fair, your first interaction with her had been punching her in the face, something you’d never even think of doing now. “Never mind that for now. If you’re staying with Netilland, though, I can’t imagine you have been dealt a favorable hand.”

“Indeed, no,” Magnus sighed and leaned a hand on the table, “The politics of it all are twisted beyond belief. It is not only dealings within the organization of Netilland, but with Strossvald and Baou, and two vying rulers of Ellowie, not to mention the future risk of Twaryi and Caelus. My men could complain to you for hours on end, and I could lodge my own protests, but ultimately, men who use their strength for honorable purposes are beholden to the state, to our rulers. Netilland will be a mess for some time to come, but it is the duty of men of strength, of the wielders of military might, to protect our fellows in such bad times, until we can safely find our way again. I merely hope that the chaos does not lead to early yearnings for the return of a Military Council…”

“Their defeat and your victory will surely be remembered,” you offered in support.

“Perhaps. Though the Ellowian Republic in Exile is in the hands of forceful and determined men, who want to avenge their loss by reclaiming territory they had lost in years past. Nobody wishes to settle things merely for where they were, and I am fearful that, though your fighting might not last much longer, there will still be more war to be fought…” Magnus sighed and shook his head, took his braid of black hair and tossed it behind him again. “You’re right, I should have brought tea for tonight.”

>Talk about anything else?
>Do anything else for the next days?
>>
>>5233962
>Talk about anything else?
Perhaps we could extend to him an invitation to our wedding? We don't really have a date/time right now, but maybe we could get an address from him that we could send a written invitation to? Also brag about and show him a picture of Maddy.

>Do anything else for the next days?
More letters, can never send enough. Maybe try more matchmaking for Hilda with the panzergrens. Swallow our pride a little and ask what anti-aircraft drills/maneuvers (I forget the term used) entail.
>>
>>5233962
>Talk about anything else?
All of this >>5233994
Also ask about the Mission from his perspective. Von Walen told us he was there, so Magnus should be able to give us another angle on things.


>Do anything else for the next days?
All this talk of Anya is reminding me it's been a while since Richter has worked out. So we outta do that.
Letters are never a bad thing. Gotta make sure to thank Maddy for the pears even though we didn't even need it!
And chat up the crew a bit. Been a while since we've had a good bro down with the boys.
>>
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>>5233962
>Talk about anything else?
He mentioned the politics and dealings of the war involved just about everyone on both sides of the conflict, but he didn't mentioned Mittelsosalia. Do they really not have a place at that table or is their position in all this still too weak despite hosting the Ellowian army in exile?

>Do anything else for the next days?
It will probably pay to get with Von Rotehof and discuss what our story will be when we get back to the Silver Lances. I find the idea of trying to divert the heat from this onto Vehrlors distasteful, much less whether or not it is even a good idea. I would be willing to just tell the truth that we all followed on for this adventure willingly, perhaps with the small adjustment that Vehrlors just got the info somehow and it wasn't us that told him.

In other news a certain masked blond has snuck her way into my Mechwarrior 5 game. I will try to treat her a bit better, if only to avoid that punishing wound recovery time.
>>
>>5233962
>Talk about anything else?
Invite him to the wedding; even if I have no idea how the logistics are going to work or if he can even make it, it's only polite

Lightly talk about the mission up north, mention we'd might very well have gone there if it wasn't for Anya. I heard a certain mission commander went MIA?

>Do anything else for the next days?
Supporting >>5234097 in deciding what exactly to tell Pfortner when we get back
>>
>>5234219
Just thought abut another topic: does he know what happened to our company in Ellowie in the end? Captured during Alpha Two, joined up with the Republicans or remained loyal to the Council? Even if we fought together but for a few months, they were decent people.

Also this is a separate thing but I wouldn't mind seeing a Downfall-esque PoV from the Military Council side as the house of cards finally collapses.
>>
>>5233994
>>5234219
Increase the guest list for this wedding you've missed like three times.

>>5234048
>>5234219
Ask about the Mission. Comment on why you didn't go.

>>5234239
Ask after the people you trained. You spent plenty of time working on them, after all...

>>5233994
Try to get your charbroiled hamburger somebody to eat it.
Though I am a little curious of what one would say and not say to sell her, considering...

>>5234048
Work on that fitness. Talk to the crew.

>>5234097
>>5234219
Make sure your story's straight for when you get back. After all, you're all sharing resonsibility.

Alright, writing, though since it's midnight and there's a lot of this even with heavy summary I might either break it up or finish it tomorow. Or both.
>>
“What about Mittelsosalia?” you asked, “They’re players in this too, are they not? They’ve certainly fought enough in it, but you didn’t mention their influence.”

“They are not seen as stable enough to be considered a threat on their own,” Edelschwert said, “It is a nation formed from thin air as most see it, whether or not that is the truth. The important part is that they lack the old territorial claims that the other parties I mentioned have had longstanding disagreements over…or the sheer might of the realm across the eastern sea. They are seen as the Wastes, to put it bluntly.”

“So you’d say they don’t have particular business,” you surmised.

“I would be surprised if they felt a need to be involved to the same degree, yes. Nobody I have spoken to about them expects the Republic of Mittelsosalia to expand beyond what are considered Sosaldt. Their contribution to this war in the field has been minor- they may have hosted the Ellowian Army as guests, but they were far outnumbered by them in manpower committed to war. However,” Magnus looked serious, “I earned my epaulets in Sosaldt. The Wastes always show strength in response to the pressure of an outside nation. For all that the world sees it as a garbage pit, the whirling chaos solidifies into steel should anybody deign to interfere with Sosaldt on a large scale. Even Netilland’s army was embarrassed by a coalition of Sosaldtian micro-states, in the past, and the Archduchy took decades to pacify what they conquered. My question for the future of Mittelsosalia would not be their territorial claims, but whether the Wastes that makes up their country will accept it as their own, or if it will be rejected and collapse.”

“What do you think the answer to that question would be, then?”

“it is too soon to say. These are times of great change.”

“Indeed they are,” you said in low reverence for the era, “Come over here,” you beckoned away from the lamp, “I’d like to talk about something that requires privacy from your escorts.”

Magnus blinked at you in curious confusion, and waved the Autogyro crew to not follow him as you headed into the dark shade of an abandoned cottage. “I presume this is related to matters of the Archduchy..?”

“In a way. I heard you were involved in an operation not long ago, against your own.”

“Where in the world might you have heard that?”

“From the former commander of the operation, who I found wandering south just the other day,” you said, “A Teobaldt Von Walen. Your objective was the seizure and destruction of a potent biological weapon.”

Edelschwert moved further into the dark, keeping his side to you in a newly guarded stance. “His lips would not have been so loose if you were in no position for him to tell you that. You are more than I thought you were, aren’t you?”
>>
“Not much more, actually,” you said, realizing you might now look like one of those mysterious spooks of the IO that you had no fondness for, “I’ve just been useful enough to be allowed to ask things…of comrades and friends. I was actually offered a chance to go on that same operation, but I didn’t know what it entailed until I found Von Walen.”

Edelschwert was still guarded, but he nodded. “I had expected you and your retinue there.”

“I would have gone,” you said, “But Anya was the reason I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t sound much like her.”

“She made me make a promise to her,” you said, “That I wouldn’t embark on needlessly dangerous adventures by myself, since she was too wounded to accompany me. To help defend me. So when I was offered to go off into certain danger, by myself…I refused.”

Magnus looked out at the valley, then back to you, with an eyebrow tilted down.

“This is different,” you said, “I came here with my most capable allies. The thing I did to irritate her was in Sosaldt. I went off by myself and endangered myself, and found her as Blind while my crew and tank were my only company. I don’t think she’d approve of this, but I don’t think she’d have told me not to help my comrades, either.” You stood quiet for a moment, “So. I’d like to hear what happened, from your perspective?”

“I just find it amusing that you are making oaths to this woman you are clearly fond of,” Magnus said with as he turned back towards you, “Stare daggers at me if you like.”

“I have a woman I am fond of already. I’d show her you right now, if the light were sufficient.”

“Anyways. The operation. I took it on behalf of my own fond connection, as a representative of the New Republic’s interests in the future of Netilland. The Military Council could not be allowed to maintain control of a weapon that could be used against its own people in the event of their defeat. I presume you’ve already heard of the mission’s success- and the motley cast that was along with us for it.”

“I heard that Von Metzeler and Krause were there, and Gerovic, yes,” you said the lattermost’s name with spite.

“It was a close affair at times,” Magnus remembered with a heaviness in his tone, “I am surprised we came out of it with minor losses to our own, considering the damage we wrought upon the enemy…though what we did lose was a great deal more than I would have wished. Kelwin found himself there, as well, though I know not from where. We spoke- and he was determined to serve a cause he thought would help his people and family the most. Yet…he and all his men were killed in the assault on the compound.”

“I…oh.” You couldn’t find words for that revelation. “I’m…I didn’t know. Von Walen did not know who he was, so I did not assume…”
>>
“I am sorry to be the bearer of that news, so soon after you have already lost other comrades today,” Magnus said gravely, “But better to know than to not. If it is any comfort, I believe his death was for a noble cause, even if it was against the interests of the nation he served for most of his career.”

“It’s just that,” you said haltingly, “The last I saw him…he was, like you, an enemy in war. I encountered him on a routine foray for supplies, and convinced him and his men to stand down and surrender. I cannot help but feel…that I bear responsibility for his fate, on a mission I refused to go on.”

“You did not know,” Magnus said, putting a hand on your shoulder, “You were only thinking of not going against your word to a loved one. We are soldiers, and though not all of us can claim to be fighting for right and justice, there are times when we know we are throwing ourselves into danger for a good cause, when we could just as readily turn away and ignore it. Raley Kelwin was not tricked into his fate.”

“…I suppose not. But I have been in positions as of late, where I always felt I could have done more.”

“Me too, Richter. Me too,” Magnus left the shadow, “Come along back to the light. The airmen will be suspicious if we are gone too long.” You followed him back to the lamp, where the Netillian autogyro crew regarded you both with a nod before going back to whispering to one another and keeping watch. “So, we are in the light again,” Magnus said to you, “You wanted to show me your lucky woman?”

“Ah,” you dug quickly in your pocket, though the photograph was badly bent and rumpled at the edges, nothing could mar your fiancée’s beauty. “Here, look at her. This is Maddalyn Von Blum. My wife to be. She won’t be waiting for me much longer. Look at the blue of her eyes, her hair. There’s more I would say in a less polite conversation, but isn’t she gorgeous?”

Magnus took the colored picture from you and looked closely. “How old was she when this picture was taken?”

“…It was taken only weeks ago,” you said curtly.

“I see,” Magnus said dimly.

“She is twenty four years old,” you added, “And her younger sister looks identical to her. She’s just slim. Cute.” Maybe that would ward off the funny look being given.

“No, I believe that, I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Magnus handed you back her picture, “She is beautiful, but I was not expecting somebody that old to be so…youthful. What happened to her eye?”

“It was cruelly taken from her,” you said with regret, “Because of a mistake I made. She was held in captivity, and when I was going to rescue her, I acted against an ally of her captors. They mutilated her in retaliation.”

“But you did save her, then,” Magnus said, “She seems happy. When are you getting married?”
>>
“I actually wanted to bring that up,” you said with some pride and anticipation, “The date isn’t certain yet, but I’ve been compiling a list of people to invite. You are one of them. Is there an address I could send an official invitation to, when the time comes? It will be soon after I return, surely.”

Magnus frowned deeply, and sighed. “You presume much of the mail services for a state set against itself.”

“My Maddalyn’s family is quite powerful. They have servants who could see such letters out personally.”

“If you are sure,” Magnus said, going to the table and retrieving a pen and paper, “This is where mail addressed to my person should be sent. It is my parents’ home, and my home town has been kept fortunately free from areas of combat. If any message to me cannot find its way from there, I know not where else it could.” He handed the written address to you, in perfect looping curly letters. Palatenhugel, hm. “Your other comrades will be attending, I am sure?”

“Of course.”

“And your retinue?”

You grimaced at that. “My Maddalyn…does not like Anya. At all. She has forbidden her from appearing at our wedding.”

“Because you are with Anya all the time instead of her, I imagine,” Magnus said.

“There are other reasons too.” Though admittedly, jealousy seemed the greatest motivator. Signy had done Maddalyn no wrong, but she barely tolerated her invitation either.

“I don’t imagine Anya will care about her opinion, though.”

“…” You thought on that, and grimaced deeper, “I hope she is more committed to her recovery than to mischief.”

Edelschwert squinted at you. “You know better than I do what will come of that hope. I have seen the two of you drunkenly fool with one another.”

“That was only horseplay. Anyways,” you moved away from that subject quickly- there was no excuse you could come up with for what the two of you had done besides flat denials of rumors, “My fiancée’s family is a powerful one, so I’m not averse to hosting as many people as I can…do you know where any of the unit I was training are? How they’ve been doing? It was a mixed unit, after all, and with all the developments in this war…”
>>
“I’ve not been kept informed,” Edelschwert said, “The Ellowian elements fight alongside the Kingdom. As far as I have heard, other members of Combined Units that were isolated in Ellowie were either allowed passage back to Netilland with the declaration of the New Republic, or remained to guard Netillian settler communities from harm. I believe the latter is what has become of the Netillian elements of your unit, if I was to hope for the best. There was much fighting before the peace between the New Republic and Wladysaw, and it’s difficult to find out much beyond what is directly in front of us, with the way things are.”

“I understand,” you said, though you were disappointed. “We’ll hope for the best, then.” Even though the only man whose fate you were completely certain of from that unit had fallen. They hadn’t been with you for long, but you felt a responsibility for those men’s future. You had fought together once, even if you did not anymore.
One of the Netillian Gyro Crew came over and spoke quietly into Magnus’s ear, and he nodded and pointed him away. “The men are wary,” he told you, “So we will have to continue later. Send Miss Nowicki my regards next you see her, and wish her well. Though you should not spite your fiancée’s wishes on her day…I would like to see Anya at your wedding. Even if your fiancée does not understand or appreciate it, your retinue does deserve to be there. Until then, Von Tracht.”

You clasped hands in parting and returned to your vehicles. As you sat on the tank, you watched the autogyro taxi towards the road and, in a demonstration still fascinating to behold, you saw it take off as a normal plane would, but with substantially less distance. Which was good, because you doubted any normal aircraft could lift off from here.

“Driver, take us back,” you said as you hooked back into the intercom, “We’ll be waiting a couple of days, and we’ll need to have latrines dug, at the least.” Unless you deigned to move into the abandoned village- if you trusted Magnus enough, surely the forlorn comforts of homes left behind would make the time go by faster.

-----
>>
The tank crews were allowed to sleep through the night as the panzergrenadier took watch- when you awoke, some of the crews had already decided to investigate Alkenssand itself, to search for any traps- but also, supplies left behind, and the possibility of fortifying the settlement rather than the woods, though Von Rotehof himself was considering the benefits of having one as an outpost and the other as your main encampment.

With little more to do yourself than wait for the days to pass so that you could return to your unit without need for a fight nor flight, you took to physical training. Talking about Anya had reminded you of it- and the next you saw her, you didn’t need her to grip your muscles and criticize your lack of maintenance. Maddalyn would appreciate it too…though Hausen told you that if you wanted to impress her more, you ought to spend more time practicing with a lollipop candy. A crude suggestion, but one you thought might be admittedly accurate. Not that you’d be discovered doing that.

When your muscles burned earlier than expected, you took to socializing. Schafer’s dog wasn’t here, but the crews still had their cards, their dice, and their gossip, and were always open to share with you.

>What do you want to talk about with the crew/other officers?

With your expectations for the future brightening quickly, you had other aspects of your house to get in order, as well. Particularly considering those still single. Hilda needed a husband- and for all your other failings with her, you weren’t going to give up so easily on finding her one. What better men to look for than those amongst the Silver Lances, after all…though you had to have a tactical mind about it. The wrong words could cause the imagination to condemn her before any suitor even saw her…

>Sell the local bachelors on the benefits of well done steak. How would you go about this?
>>
>>5235054
>What do you want to talk about with the crew/other officers?

So assuming this is the last of things, how has this war been overall compared to Vitelia?

Demurring on the latter because I don't really think Richter should be really trying to force things too hard here.
>>
>>5235054
Basic check up first and foremost. Gotta see how our guys feel about the mission and such. Debrief and unwind.
Then I'd like to go into what the Crown Stalker was saying earlier. Get the group's views on his ideology or see if they even thought about it at all.
I'd like to try to figure out more details of Mal's beliefs in regards to how to treat an enemy after battler. I recall him being very insistent on us digging a ditch to drop the guy who fucked up Signy's hands, but is that just because it was Richter personally dealing death instead of doing it from behind a tank?
Finally, speaking of the tank sure is nice to have the girl humming again. Of course, we can't have Richter spill the beans about what it actually is, but I don't see any reason we can't check to see how the crew is dealing with it.
Also, talk about naming tanks and weapons in general. When is it cool? When is it strange? Is it always one or the other? Names for the M/32 need to be suggested. Is it weird to even give a shit?
These are important questions Richter needs answers to.

>>5235059
Now not really the time or place, but we COULD send out feelers in return for small favors.
Ask some of the other guys to send any bachelor our way to see if they'd be interested in a loyal wife with fat tits and a clearly functioning womb.
>>
>>5235054
>What do you want to talk about with the crew/other officers?
Anybody find anything of interest in the ghost town? Speaking of ghosts, ask Hausen and Schafer if they spotted anything unusual or familiar among the trees when we arrived, use that to try and segue into an explation for what a "Paellan beach" is.

>Sell the local bachelors on the benefits of well done steak. How would you go about this?
Walsen had been a recreational hunter in a club before joining the army, perhaps he'd appreciate having an exceptional hunting partner as well as life companion?

Also, more autism regarding tech lore. Did rotary cannons or motor driven machine guns like Gebauer's "Motorgéppuska" ever persist past the 1910s in setting? Besides the Slostin gun and Fokker-Leimberger, real world Gatling style automatic cannons seem to totally drop off the radar post-WWI until the 50s when electric motors become more reliable, but you've said as much that certain things are more/less advanced than our own timeline here and there.
>>
>>5235059
So how does this compare to the west of the continent, world travelers?

>>5235095
Talk about the ideology of whackos, and your crew. Bring up the idea of naming military equipment whether or not it is haunted by what might be considered either a spirit or a demon depending on who you ask.

>>5235111
What's in the town? Do you see spirits? What's a Paellan beach, anyways?

>>5235059
Don't try and interfere with Hilda's life further so much. Leave her to the G Man

>>5235095
Don't be direct. Be subtle. Gauge interest.

>>5235111
So, the discussion we had earlier, Herr Walsen. Can I tempt you?

Writing.
>>
>>5235111
>Also, more autism regarding tech lore. Did rotary cannons or motor driven machine guns like Gebauer's "Motorgéppuska" ever persist past the 1910s in setting?
Experimentation is always out there- though adoption and mass use is a different story. Thus, presently, no, such weapons are not in use, though inventors are always interested in making their ideas a broader reality. Given that the world is at a point where it is transitioning into a different era of aircraft and anti-aircraft measures, they might find their niche that would motivate the amelioration of their present severe flaws.
Also real talk I didn't know they existed that far back until literally now.
>>
Initially, your matter of actual business was discussed amongst the officers. Namely, how you were going to explain this to Pfortner when you returned. Vehrlors might have had the idea to pin it all on him- but you weren’t going to do that to a dead man. So you all accepted that you shared responsibility for this particular dereliction of duty- with the exception of Planckner, who informed the rest of you that he wasn’t actually a part of Strossvald or the Silver Lance’s command structure. True enough…though you hoped your punishment would be lenient. You’d only recently managed to get the IO’s desertion charge off of your back, and a repeat of a similar charge wouldn’t be good for you. Even if you did deserve it this time, unlike when the Intelligence Office entrapped you.

It was an easy decision, though, once it was brought up. Nobody wanted to throw blame on top of Vehrlors in his grave. Though after you had met on that, and most dispersed, you stayed to talk with Von Rotehof. In an odd twist of fate, you and he were all that were left of the original platoon’s officers. Van Halm and Von Rotehof’s brother had both been wounded and send back and now Vehrlors was gone. You were only a step away from being the last tank in the platoon.

“It seems as though our place in this will be over soon,” you said to Lucian Von Rotehof as you sat between your m/32s, “I’m curious. How was this compared to Vitelia?

“Hm. What part of it?” Some of his calm had returned with last night’s sleep, “Our service was with Paelli, and there were two parts to it. When we aided their intervention into Vitelia, it was simple and easy. The Vitelian Revolutionaries weren’t ready for us, not organized, still new and fresh to war. There were defecting soldiers among them, yes, but even the normal Vitelian army was nothing compared to us, so their castaways fared little better. It was the sort of war most wish for when they head to battle, to be honest.”

“I was talking of that Vitelia, yes,” you said, “Is Paelli considered Vitelia?”

“According to many Vitelians, yes,” Von Rotehof laughed slightly, “That whole end of the continent dreams of reforming the Vitelian Empire of old one way or another, what was there before the Dhegyars broke it up when they came from the far west.”

“So the fight against the Vitelians was easy,” you said, “How about with Kallec?”

“Bad,” Von Rotehof said with no theater, “They were brutal, numerous, and powerful, and they swept aside our allies. It was the hardest fighting in my life, let alone many others. That was worse than this campaign, I’d say, even if it might be hard for you to imagine. If Netilland had gone all in on this, maybe it would have been worse. But they didn’t. So this was…a lot worse than Vitelia, better than Kallec. There’s men you can talk to that considered Vitelia a holiday, you know.”

“Was it a holiday for you?”
>>
“As much as a war that wasn’t ours can be. Vitelia is a lovely land. I have more fond memories than bad ones, though to be true, that was where I learned to drift with the times…” Von Rotehof leaned back in the snow and looked at the clouds with eyes half closed.

You left Von Rotehof with that, and asked the same of your crew, as you lay about and on the tank. Hausen and Schafer had a similar opinion of the Kallean aspect, of course, as they’d said before, but of the Vitelian part?

“Swatting flies,” Schafer grunted, “No pride to be had in slaughtering fools. Our commanders would know what they’d do, pread th’m like books, and put ‘em down. They stopped attacking us after a while. Would try to avoid us. Barely remember it ending. Don’t know how the Paellans had s’ much trouble with ‘em at Lapizlazuli, ‘side that they’re soft and stupid.”

“Soft and stupid, not always in bad ways, though.” Hausen retold, “Vitelia where the Silver Lances were was like storybooks. People died, they always do, but it wasn’t often. The Revolutionaries had courage, but they spoiled for fights even when they couldn’t win them. Once they left us be, once we’d broken them so badly that the Paellans thought they could take them on our own, we had vacations. The good war was done with, we’d shown everybody there what was done, and we went down the trail back to Paelli leisurely. Saw the sights, stayed in the tourist traps that we’d fought over not so long ago. Vitelian women are fiery, but not as enchanting as Paellans. Ah…to go back, but this time, without damned Kallec above it. Warm seas and colorful beaches, a night sky like a dark rainbow through diamonds. Gifts plentiful and generous in prosperity and luxuries both, and all of its people and places tinted with the mystery of the far west, while still familiar as being of Vinstraga…”

“If he stayed much longer, he’d go soft and native like our last tank commander,” Schafer said in a surly curse.

“The Silver Lances are my home, baldy, but you’re lying to yourself if you said you wouldn’t spend a month back there if you could,” Hausen said as he waved a pointing, accusatory finger.

“That reminds me,” you said, “Either of you…have you seen anything, as you look out through these woods?”

“The other fellows were talking about it, yeah,” Hausen said, “Much as you could understand them. Jorgen.”

“Aen’t maefaelt yae cen’tear,” Jorgen said bac with a toothy grin, “Fexyaerear.”

“He does it on purpose, I swear,” Hausen said irritably, “At least the Kallean can’t talk right because he just can’t.”

Malachi looked back somewhat, then turned away again.

“You see those tree figures, right, Mal?” you asked.

“Ayeh,” Malachi pointed to where he was looking, “Waezers, aldsol. Farrgoudeyre.”
>>
“Spirits who’ve haunted the forests so long that they’ve forgotten who they are,” you said for the benefit of the New Nauk speakers, “They must be ancient.”

“Mm hm. Onlyspuuk.”

Part of you wanted to ask Malachi what his experience in Paelli might have been, if it was what your other crew suspected, but he had stayed quiet about it before, and now. Parts of him just wouldn’t be dug up in present company.

“What’s this have t’ do with Paelli,” Schafer asked as though you’d forgotten yourself what you’d even been talking about.

“Well, you were talking about as though I was looking at a Pallean Beach earlier,” you explained, “Are those haunted? Hausen didn’t seem to say they were.”

Hausen clapped his hands in readiness, “Lieutenant, Paellans have a different sort of fashion, you see, a different idea of beachwear. They’re inspired by their divers, who dress in but two bands of cloth, and some beaches, they’ve deigned to entice the eye on purpose by wearing nothing above the waist-“

“Don’t fill his mind with shite, you lecher,” Schafer swore grouchily, “No. Th’ beaches of Paelli swirl with water from the Maelstrom’s touch. The place is next to where th’ world’s wrong. There’s a beauty to it all, yeah, but y’look at it and can’t help but feel, you’re not on Velekam no more. Not that this lout sees that for what it is.”

“I’m sure marriage turned you into a no-fun leather sack, baldy,” Hausen said sorely. “Show of hands. Who would like women better if they went about with no shirts?” he looked around, “Look at Baldy, the odd man out.”

“Put your hand down, Lieutenant,” Schafer scolded you, “Bah.”

I had another question, too,” you said, “This tank, it’s been through a lot. Shouldn’t such adventurous pieces of equipment be graced with a name? Surely there’s tanks here that have names, guns, anything? I haven’t seen them written around much.” Vehicles weren’t given names very often in the Archduchy’s military, from what you remembered. It was generally thought that a vehicle shouldn’t be glorified unless it had stories to tell beyond it rolling off the production line, and in the case it did, its numerical designation was preferred in order to firmly separate men and machine.

“Ah, Kaemandarr,” Jorgen said in a singsong way you didn’t like, “The taenk haes a name aelreddy.”

“What is it?” Hausen asked.

“Flaet Chaested, but haes ah Greataess.”
>>
“That is not its name,” you snapped, “Judge Above, I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Who named it that?” Hausen smirked at you.

“The man who was my radio operator before you,” you said testily, “Wrote that on the tank.”

“It is flat chested, if you think about it,” Hausen slapped his hand on the front of the m/32.

“It’s a rude description of my fiancée,” you crossed your arms and smoldered, “Written to be provocative.”

“Does she, though?” Hausen asked you.

“…” You considered, and thought, and then relaxed. “Yes. But that’s not its name.”

“There’s no rule against gear having names, no,” Schafer finally answered the question, “S’long as it’s not too gaudy. Sort of seen as comin’ across blueblood, though. There’s a pride t’ be had in all of us sharing our colors.”

“Sosaldtian mercenaries do it a lot,” Hausen said, “Vitelians did too. You did crawl through Sosaldt with that thing, though, so..?”

>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.
>>
>>5235502
>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.

Pass, no one's going to use it in favour of some satirical one, just like callsigns
>>
>>5235502
But it already has a name, Jorgen was absolutely right. If/when Hans comes back he can etch it back on without Richter looking.

Although I'm still a fan of that one twin turreted tank we blew up, probably Death Heads, that looked like a pair of tiddies.
>>
>>5235502
>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.
I feel like naming it after a respectable woman would be enough to get the men on the same page. Since naming it after Maddalyn directly would be weird, we could always name it after her mother.
A reminder to everyone who and where this tanks originates.
And if we wanna be sentimental we can hyphenate her name with Richter's mother.
Even if the name doesn't catch on, it's better to put forth an idea than to simply let the others run the show with their crude names.
Even if it’s funny the M/32 deserves better than "Flat, but has a Great Ass".
It's not even catchy.
>>
>>5235502
>>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.
No name is fine
>>
>>5235502
>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.
Wandering knight or Questing knight would be a great name.
>>
>>5235618
I like the idea of Maddalyn's mom's name, disagree with hyphenating with Richter's mom's name. Maybe we could otherwise name it something to do with its survivability?
>>
>>5235502
>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.

Big Boss
>>
>>5235502
>If you want to name the m/32B-010, then you may…though others might not respect that name.
I'm fine with not officially naming it for the time being, since it's already kind of alive a name might be pushing things into weird territory.
Though, I would have us ask Schafer how he named his dog, if it wasn't actually a jab at the Archduke.
>>
>>5235502
>>5235877
Gonna go with not naming the tank and supporting for asking Schafer about his dog
>>
Also supporting not naming the tank
>>
>>5235510
>>5235625
>>5235877
>>5235983
>>5236098
No name!

>>5235618
>>5235666
Name it after a broad you saw in a dirty magazine. Classy.

>>5235563
Still Mad-dy

>>5235657
A descriptor much like your own.

>>5235760
Force Von Metzeler to dye his hair blond and talk about fiddles.

>>5235877
>>5235983
Also ask why the fat dog has the same name as your head of state.

Writing, though I woke up real late in order to try and force my sleep schedule to be a one part instead of two part, so I probably won't have this ready for a while.
>>
>>5235502
No name

Cant call the tank Maddy since she's probably smaller then a 32b.
>>
>>5236120
Should have refreshed before voting, but still glad we didnt name it anything.
>>
Part of you wanted to give the m/32 a meaningful name- perhaps, you thought, after Maddalyn’s mother? You’d heard her name before, seen it, but…well, you remembered her appearance more than her name. Could you be blamed? Just as well, though, because despite that feeling like a nice idea, nobody but you seemed to want to name it anything besides a sarcastic dig. It’d lack a name, for now, at least.

“It’s fine as it is, then,” you decided, “Speaking of names, though. Schafer, why is your dog called Siegfried? It’s not just because he’s fat, is it?”

“Heh. No, I didn’t name him,” Schafer said, “I thought it was alright as it was and didn’t change it.”

“Daednae gettem yersaef, eh?” Jorgen asked, a curious look on his rough-hewn face.

“He adopted him,” Hausen said, “But I’d best let him tell how.”

“There’s not much story t’ it,” Schafer huffed, “Last person who owned him was some noble brat in Messingplatz whose daddy didn’t bother bein’ a parent. Was beatin’ poor Sieg with a switch, so I took it off’a him and beat ‘im like his blueblood dad should’ve, took th’ dog with me. Ran off howlin’ about revenge, but he never did nothin’.”

So the young man had named the dog Siegfried? Perhaps it was to mock there, too, depending on who it was. “You don’t recall their name?” you asked, “Doing that to a noble youth of the wrong family, no matter what they were doing, might have been a bad idea…”

“Fuck ‘em,” Schafer said firmly, “No matter what their family name was. Could’a been Von Zeissenberg for all I cared then. Probably got a shiny new toy t’ calm them down anyways.”

“Oerra dog,” Malachi interjected.

“Hm. Probably.”

Not a very pleasant admission, but they agreed it was the truth.

The day passed onwards- a team of Netillians came around, with what appeared to be a tracked hauler adapted from a tankette chassis. Approaching under a truce flag, they claimed to have come to recover the dead- and were allowed to.
>>
A reverence was held for Crown Taker, you noticed, as they unwrapped him from where he’d been kept, and his trophies were all carefully removed and placed in a box. Perhaps to avoid offending a vengeful spirit? Famous or infamous men were said to have the blessing of the Judge, after all, and mutilating their bodies was an affront to one whose being was no longer in the hands of mere men…though it could also be just that the man held respect amongst his countrymen, for all the spite your own fellows had towards him.

Yet, it made you think back to when the man was alive, and you both spoke, knowing you would fight, even if the battle did not turn out like either of you thought it might.

“When the Crown Taker and I spoke,” you said to your crew as you were eating a lunch of cold oat porridge and peppered beef tea (the only kind of tea you were sure you’d get from them) delivered by the arriving Netillians, eyes flicking over to the tree where the man had died. “He spoke of the lot of warriors. Referred to us collectively. Said such grandiose things such as us having all of the freedom and might in the world in war, but anywhere else, we have nothing. Said that states and countries and governments, all of them were nothing in times of war, that the people who decide fate then are warriors. He said that, since the only freedom and power we have is in fighting, then there is nothing for us but to fight, and die. He had a wife and children, he claimed, yet he still thought that way.”
“Sounds like he lost them another way,” Hausen said, “Who can say. Maybe he thought that because he had nowhere else to go. What do you think, north man? Your kind ventures out for battle all the time, yeah? Don’t you want to go home someday, though?”

Jorgen was deep in thought. “…Nah. Naet yet. Ae’ve faeght plaenty, I caed go baeck…naeten’ faer me thaere, though.”

“Fine. You, mosshead?”

“…” Malachi didn’t speak of his past. “Noh.”

“There’s plenty who’d say that here,” Schafer said, “Here with th’ unit’s better than what they’ve got anywhere else. They might not think this Ace was so mad, though maybe they’d not take it so far.”
“You have a wife and children too,” you pointed out, “He did, and I doubt he’d have left them so readily…right?”

Schafer sighed and leaned back. “It’s not all it’s cracked up t’ be, for everybody. I know people who can’t stand their families. I like my wife. I like my kids. But I don’t hang around them all th’ time. Never even seen any of ‘em born. ‘s not nice t’ say, but I have ‘em because I’m s’posed to, when it comes down to it. Maybe if I spent more time at home I wouldn’t like my family as much. Look at the red head here. He doesn’t want a wife. He just wants his fun.”

“I’ll tie myself down someday,” Hausen replied with a lazy, insincere drift in his words.
>>
Schafer’s response made your mouth turn downwards, though. All this time, you’d been looking forward to going back to Maddalyn…and starting your own family. Hearing a man say that it “wasn’t what it’s cracked up to be” was…disheartening. In a way you didn’t want to think much about.

Schafer noticed it. “Not sayin’ everybody’s th’ same. Just that most who want to stay at home…don’t stay here. You’ve heard it before.”

“I’ve heard. They stay until they can’t anymore. Like the Ace did. Like Vehrlors did,” you turned an oat cake over gloomily in your hand, “How did this go, you think? Could we have done better?”

“Wae daed our paert,” Jorgen offered, “Daedas taeld. Kaelled thaet taenk. Hae caen ye dae baetter?”

He had a point- yet if this had gone perfectly, your platoon would have still been whole. “I just wonder if this is really the best it could have gone.”

“Could have gone far worse,” Hausen said, “We could be dead. We all knew who we were dealing with, but the Captain didn’t try and make somebody else bite it for him. From what I heard from what’s left of his crew, he got what he’d have wanted. I don’t think he wanted anybody to die for him, even his crewmen, and a couple of them did.”

Yes. Yet. You were the one who decided to share with Vehrlors where the Crown Taker was waiting, when it turned out, that your part in this war might not last much longer. Perhaps you might not even have another pitched battle. Also, though, Vehrlors had expressed his fears that your war might end before he could take his vengeance- and you wondered, now that Crown Taker and Vehrlors both were gone, if that was a temporary feeling, or truly something he’d never have been able to overcome.

“Don’t stew in it, Lieutenant,” Hausen interrupted your thoughts, “You’re hardly in command of your tank, let alone the whims of fate.”

“I’d rather not think it was fate,” you said, “But thank you anyways.” You crinkled your nose as you drank the altogether far too peppered beef both. “Mal, come with me over to the village. Planckner’s crew said they’ve cleared the north part of it, I want to see if anybody left behind any proper civilized beverage. I’ll go mad if I have to drink another kind of tainted water before my next real tea.”

“Drink the rest of that or we’re pouring it up your nose,” Schafer threatened, “Heard tell the Netillians fortify that stuff with vitamins.”

That did not come to pass, to say the least, before you took Malachi along with you down south.

“Mal,” you spoke to your driver as the two of you walked through the snow, following the trail that had been established as picked through for mines- though none had even been found yet. “Do you think we should have been the ones to bury the dead, instead of the Netillians taking them away?”

Malachi stared at you. “Ehh?”

“You know. Because that one time, last year…”
>>
“Ohh. Nah. Thaeses baettel, waetguns. Thaeng yaeded, naet baettel. Gaev taarrrth yorrsel.”

“Just because it wasn’t in a battle?” you asked, “I just want to know what your beliefs are about this, after all, this wasn’t part of a war, of sorts…this was a personal challenge. Wouldn’t that count, since we killed those men in that heavy tank?”

Malachi shook his head. “Baettel nowahr. Faets ovehrr, thaens yaerrr plessto ofehrrr soll.”

“I don’t know if I get it,” you said, trying to go over each word after he’d spoken to get his meaning right, “But we don’t have to dig any more holes, right? For Yjens or whatever the reason is.”

“Noh. Noht forrrYjens, forrou.”

“If you say so,” you said, “So should I do that thing where you burn a flower, then?”

“Yeh.”

“I’ll make a point of it when I get back to Maddalyn.”

“Noh,” Malachi shook his head, “Waet Anya.”

“Oh for goodness sakes, I don’t need your jokes about that too.”

“Naht joek.” Malachi said seriously.

“Think what you like,” you brushed it off, “Besides, I think Anya likes you more. I’ll tell her to dye her hair green for you, if you like.”

He didn’t respond to that, and any other talk was small comments before you made it to the village. From there, you found out the village had been abandoned for some time- though everybody had left peacefully, as no food had been left behind. Valuables that were hidden had been found- but the Silver Lances were no looters of innocent civilians. Planckner grumbled about it- but knew better than to do more, given his present company.

The true prize for most anyways, including you, was getting to sleep with a roof over your head.

-----
>>
Despite the preparation for the worst, no shots of anger were directed at you as you stayed near Alkenssand, and the enemy wrecks of the battlefield, without the bodies within them, had become objects of curiosity. They were all too destroyed to make any further use of, but the men, and yourself, poked about them. You tried your best yourself to try and seed some interest in Hilda, though you didn’t directly speak of her…unfortunately, many men were already accounted for, or else didn’t seem like husband material, rather than men of the Lances. Not that Hilda might need a homebody…

The days passed, and as expected, no sound of an offensive was heard. Instead, it became eerily quieter, until Netillian Republicans, flying what you recognized as the familiar flag save for an oak leaf in the upper left quadrant rather than a star. Symbology you were unfamiliar with- but presumed correctly was an attempt at differentiation. The officers were unfamiliar, but not hostile- and guided you back to a now peaceful front. Positions were maintained, but no soldiers stood ready for battle on the Netillian side, as you crossed back over to your people.

Von Rotehof was immediately called to the company headquarters on your return, though nobody else was. It was a full two hours before a ragged Von Rotehof returned to you to report the damage. Pfortner, while furious, was lenient- and word was already spreading amongst the company of how Vehrlors had slain the despised Crown Taker. In light of that- your punishment would be six months of disciplinary pay slashing, and one year of suspended sentence for dereliction of duty, for the whole of the platoon. Your responsibility was indeed shared, though nobody would be going before a military tribunal. The Silver Lances handled their own issues. So long as you behaved, though, the only punishment was financial, and even then…the Silver Lances were paid more than the average soldier.
Perhaps the true punishment was the loss of your commander, then.

Right back to the front with all of you, afterwards- you were kept busy, despite the recent peace caused by the New Republic usurping the Military Council’s place on this battlefield. A couple of days passed- and you moved beyond them, and to your flank, rather than Ellowians, there were the Imperials. Despite claiming to be Republic troops, there was no effort taken to disguise them. Members of your battalion and company kept wary glances on them as they came over to visit- gawking at you and your tanks like they were tourist attractions. You even saw the fellow you had heard called Wolf Tamer in Sundersschirm, before you lost over a hundred marks on betting on him. He had come over with a girl in tow- a scruffy looking brunette, with a touch of Dhegyar in her features. Assuredly another Imperial, then, though you knew nothing of Imperials using female pilots, let alone their dress code tolerating skirts so short.
>>
Command forbid you from fraternizing with people of the Grossreich, however, so all any curious visitors had from the lot of you was stony silence. With your platoon’s suspended sentence, too, no matter the curiosity you had, risking pissing off Pfortner again was too foolish to tempt. They might have been gossiping tourists now, but the Archduchy still held the Reich as an enemy, and the only allowances given were towards diplomats and ambassadors, not their troops, even if their superiors and Mittelsosalia both claimed they were mere mercenaries.

There was more, light combat- you finally found yourself in a front line against enemy Netillians again, but it felt more like cleaning up than a true battle. Fortified positions were undermanned- troops surrendered having come to you rather than wait for you on their defenses, once they received an initial softening barrage and skirmishing ensued. The last tank battle by your company was resolved by the time your platoon arrived to help, as two enemy tank platoons smoldered before the rest of your company, who had been aiding a New Republic holding action.

Word came of the battle between the Netillian Militarist Offensive and the Ellowian Army. With the brunt of the offensive focused upon them, it had been a brutal and bloody days for the Ellowian Republic Army- but even where the Netillian Militarists broke them, the advantage could not be pressed with insecure flanks. The offensive was not over- and the battles would continue, it was expected, for days if not weeks after, but it was already clear that the Military Council, even if it won this battle, would not have the victory they sorely needed. Even if they savaged the Ellowian Army, they had done nothing to the New Republic, or Mittelsosalia’s forces.

Then, on the fourteenth day of March of 1933, the order was handed down to withdraw.
>>
Along with a letter from home, you had been delivered two messages from Strossvald’s High Command offices. With trepidation, you had opened it…and found a note of congratulations. For the action of rescuing a fellow tank officer and crewmen from a knocked out tank, with risk of great harm to yourself, the offices had seen fit with recommendation from multiple witnesses to grant you the White Ribbon of Grace- and permission to openly wear said award. Then the other letter, on advice of Captain Pfortner and Colonel Jagdmeister, you had been officially awarded by the same offices under review of witnesses and recommendations, the Silver Shield of Roland, for actions taken by you, your crew and your retinue to blunt the counteroffensive at Sundersschirm and, it had been decided, serving a critical role in protecting the rest of your unit from the enemy and preventing a collapse of defenses. It was not the highest award one could find themselves gaining in the Archduchy…but your platoon found a few bottles of a few sorts of schnapps to celebrate the news with you and your crew- the Silver Shield was awarded to a subunit collectively, after all- all of you would have the right to wear the award.

Said awards would be given at a later ceremony, so they weren’t in your hands yet, but it did make you think…what other things had you done, that would not be recognized?

The war in Netilland was not over when you left- and you were not told when it might be coming to a close. Only that the contract had been resolved, and so, the Silver Lances would be returning to Strossvald, and its members given leave until their next commission, which would not be for at least another month. It felt off, to be leaving a war unresolved, but your duty there was officially done- for whatever reason. It would go on without you, and end, but you hoped that those you fought alongside would find victory soon. Edelschwert had to attend your wedding, after all, so with any luck, this would end before then, even if the problem of the Ellowian Army in Exile remained even after the Military Council’s last defeat.

The m/32B, as property of yourself and of Von Blum, would be transported back to those lands for refitting needed. As you bid your crew farewell at the train station back in the Archduchy, you’d be riding your own way, for somewhere else…

>Home, back in Strosstadt. You’d managed to return from war- and the first place you needed to be was with your family.
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
>Down to the border of Mittelsosalia again, and further- you needed to pick up your retinue.
>Other?
>>
>>5236602
>Home, back in Strosstadt. You’d managed to return from war- and the first place you needed to be was with your family.

Home, then Blumsburgh
>>
>>5236602
>Down to the border of Mittelsosalia again, and further- you needed to pick up your retinue.
Just to say hi and see if she wants to come with. I'd imagine a month? or so of being cooped up in one place would leave her smoldering.

>Other?
In the event we go somewhere else then I'd at least say write to her and make sure she's doing okay and tell her we are done with the war and heading back. Who knows when we'd see her next otherwise and let her know. Also gotta burn dem flowers for a dead god

>You even saw the fellow you had heard called Wolf Tamer in Sundersschirm
It's for the best there wasn't an in person scene. It'd be funny as fuck if it forced anons to talk to themselves and make Richter and Reinhold interact like lunatics.
>>
>>5236616
My main concern is if Maddy finds out the first person we visit after our deployment is Anya of all people whether her inferiority complex will rear its head again, especially with the wedding coming up.

Either way I support writing to her in any case.
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…

>Said awards would be given at a later ceremony, so they weren’t in your hands yet, but it did make you think…what other things had you done, that would not be recognized?

IO work aside, I would think of that job Von Silbertau gave us to destroy that jammer, maybe if he had lived?

Or the battle in which we fired the Hellfire, if I remember us and Framboise plus the Panzergrenadiers
basically held off an entire heavy armour battalion for a night.
>>
>>5236602
>>Home, back in Strosstadt. You’d managed to return from war- and the first place you needed to be was with your family.
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…

Maybe we can get a tour of the workshop where our tank was made and offer some modification requests while she gets refitted. Like a proper commanders mg that we can fire buttoned up.
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…

Also supporting writing Anya a letter

It's quite novel to actually be getting medals for our actions after all of our heroics have gone on in either covert action or in service of another nation.
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
>>
>>5236602
Btw, did Anya also get the Shield as our retinue? We definitely need to write to her. And maybe to Signy as well.
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
GO GO GO GO
>>
>>5236602
>>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
>>
>>5236602
>>5236721
>Other?
Yeah, Write to Anya and Signy.
Tell Anya we'll either send after her or pick her up personally later. Tell Signy, well Idk actually. Just a hey and a check up on how she's doing I suppose.
>>
>>5236602
>>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
Supporting >>5236676 and taking a nerdy tour of Von Blum's armoury and making demands like we own the place., also write Anya a letter. Got to make sure she can still write one back after busting her arm. We can't live without our secretary.
>>
>>5236602
>Blumsburgh. You’d gone long enough away from Maddalyn. She had the right to see you first…
I know Richter is decently worried about continuing the bloodline, but exactly how worried are his parents? Regardless I'm sure they wouldn't mind too much if Richter visited Maddy first
>>
Can we get a sketch of our new shiny medals at some point?
>>
>>5236611
>>5236650
Back to the old home, to your folks. And your hamburger.

>>5236630
>>5236659
>>5236676
>>5236699
>>5236713
>>5236721
>>5236730
>>5236936
>>5237050
>>5237109
Immediate Von Blum hunting.
Make the armory and weapons engineering a planned stop.

>>5236616
Grab fluffy.

>>5236840
Get writing.

Writing.

>>5236715
>Btw, did Anya also get the Shield as our retinue?
Yes- everybody under your direct command for that operation, including your retinue, has the right to wear the award, as it's a collective award and not individual.
>>
>>5237188
Sure, it wouldn't be too hard to do quickly.
Which assuredly means I won't have it done for weeks.
>>
The train ride to the Blumlands after you reached Strosstadt was along the same line you took when you first went there- albeit on a completely different sort of train. A newer sort, that rode more smoothly, and was far better painted and crafted rather than being a beaten old military freight engine, though the passenger compartments were more crowded. Many more people than you were going to the Blumlands on this ride- but you at least got a window seat, and could look out and remember everything from the last time it rolled by.

The previous time you’d been in the Blumlands, it had been quite the mess, and you had left in a hurry; nothing you’d heard indicated that the chaos of a separatist uprising still gripped the territory’s capital, but it’d be interesting to see the place as it was supposed to be. Especially if you were to stay there for longer.

To pass the time besides watching the land’s indecision between finally moving over to Spring, you wrote letters to a couple of people that were growing further away- one of whom you considered in particular need of one. Your retinue had been forced to rest and recuperate partway through the campaign you had recently returned from, and you hadn’t sent any correspondence in the meantime. In Ellowie when she was forced to rest before, you’d learned well that Anya hated being cooped up and made to sit still, and given that you weren’t aware of her being that social…it would brighten her day.
>>
So you began, of course, with the news that you were alive and well, and out of fighting. Then, you went into what had happened since she’d been sent home. The reinforcement and reequipment of the unit, the drive into Netilland, the meeting and duel with Crown Taker. Vehrlors’s sacrifice- and how you’d met Edelschwert afterwards. A hint that you’d invited him to your wedding, in case an interception might be planned, and a conveyance of the well wishes that he had sent. Finally, you told her that she was entitled to a medal for the battle at the old fort at Sundersschirm, and wished her well yourself.

Despite Edelschwert’s belief that Anya would be a troublemaker at the wedding solely because she thought it might be funny, she had demurred from irritating your fiancée on purpose before when she knew she wouldn’t help anything by staying around. Maddalyn certainly was not going to change her mind on that- the simple act of pleading your retinue’s case might set off in a needlessly envious fit.

Next, a letter to the other woman who Maddalyn held in spite, but she at least tolerated her existence. Your relationship with Signy wasn’t what it used to be, but you’d still been through a lot because of one another. She deserved to know you were alright, but you provided less detail about what had happened- it didn’t seem as relevant to her. Despite having been a republican militant, Signy was no fighter like Anya was. So instead, you wrote observations that, though she might already know them, contained what you’d seen. Of the Ellowian Exiles’ cold spite to the Netillians, and how they clashed with the Netillian New Republic- how the sides of the conflict apparently didn’t see the state of Mittelsosalia as a factor, and perhaps, it should be asserted otherwise, in order to convince the disparate sides towards peace, now that the Military Council was near defeat. Not that you wanted to cultivate too much ambition, given how it had already changed her, but by your measure, there had been enough fighting- and the men of the Republic of Mittelsosalia seemed to have the proper heart about the matter. An extended war would do them as little good as anybody else.
>>
Finally, what you knew to be the capital lands of the Blumlands came into view, and the train went around a curve that allowed a view of the Imperial Gate itself- the twisting mountain valley that was the sole large passage into Sosalia from the west, with great high black mountains stretching north and south as far as could be seen. Anticipation tingled in your fingers and toes. What were you going to do? Well, besides the obvious. There was, after all, the armories and weapons workshops, that would assuredly be curious of your also returning tank, though it was on a different train for later. More of the m/32B was clearly in demand on the modern battlefield, and you had your own suggestions you could make.

The train slowed as it approached the central station at Blumsburgh- a place you’d never been to, though it was as decorated and beauteous a place as the Capital’s Grand Station, if far less chaotic. Western inspired frescoes adorned the walls, portraying the Imperial Gate’s landscape, and the city between the rivers that was Blumsburgh, the Von Blum villa on the hill a clear point of focus. It wasn’t merely what was outside- it was an older view of the city, before the factories and apartments that now sprouted up from it amongst the older construction.

As you stepped out, you looked around the station- word hadn’t been sent ahead, so there wasn’t any reason to expect anybody, but you felt the need to sate a sense of pointless curiosity anyways. Yet sated it was.

A lovely, though small, figure. Skin so pale it was almost white, fiery red locks that fell past the shoulders. Grey-blue eyes- no eyepatch, now, no dark circles under them. The mole high on her cheek and under those lovely eyes, and a pout in her lips. She wore a long blue satin dress with filigree pattern on it, that went up to a tight collar around her neck, and a silk shawl covered her shoulders and arms, upon which were long white gloves. She looked from side to side- you weren’t in proper uniform right now, wearing your beaten Ellowian jacket, but it was obvious who was being looked for…

>?
>>
>>5237306
>>?
Walk up to her and give her a great big hug
>>
>>5237306
Ah she, she found out we were coming. I wanted to surprise her.
...unless.
>No eyepatch.
>Long Gloves on.
>No ring either around her finger or neck.
>Can't pick Richter out from a crowd via use of her magic eye.
>?
No hugs, no kisses.
Not till we're 100% sure we got the right one.
Once we are sure though, hug the living piss outta her! Then apply ample sloppy makeouts.
>>
>>5237308
>>5237329
Actually that's true, adding in the caveat to that make sure it's the right sibling first. Wouldn't put it past Mathilda to try to gaslight us and spite her sister.
If Maddy did manged to fix her eye then maybe there's some hope for Richter's own injuries as well.
>>
>>5237306
>>5237329
Support
Although she might have a glass eye in, it doesn't hurt to at least check just to make sure we got the right one. Then we can go all in if we did
>>
>>5237306
>>5237329
Supporting, leave the making out and other more racy stuff till we're in private though.As a scion of the local lords there's likely some level of dignity needed to be maintained in front of the subjects
>>
Damn I really should remember who has which mole
>>
>>5237391
Maddalyn has her's under her left eye
Mathilda has her's on her jaw.
The thing is, Richter was told that Mathilda's mole might be fake, an artificial way to distinguish herself from her sister that could be removed.
Also the long gloves are a Mathilda thing too from what I remember, though Richter isn't 100% sure what the fuck that's about beyond some hint that there's something wrong with her arms.
>>
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Oddly enough this is the only image of the two of them I have on hand.
I should gave the one from Mathilda's first appearance somewhere, but till I find it, this should do.
>>
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Here.
>>
>>5237306
>?
Maybe for the best to confirm the identity of the woman before you do anything improper to her. I don't want to make it two men in our crew who accidentally got friendly with the sister of their lady love.
>>
>>5237329
+1

>>5237306
>no picture
If this is really Maddy, then I hate to be that guy, be we're gonna need a picture here chief. Of course, if it isn't, don't worry about it :^)
>>
>>5237329
>>5237336
>>5237341
>>5237364
>>5237565
>>5237582
Be sure that this is your ginger before you do anything.

Updating.

>>5237582
Have no worries. There is a picture either way.
>>
File: tcqscene198.png (1.66 MB, 759x1300)
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A wave of excitement- but then, wariness. Where was the ring you had sent? If she knew you were coming, surely she would wear it? Also, no matter how you were dressed, it didn’t matter to Maddalyn, because she didn’t see the same as others. It wasn’t enough to be sure, but even the slightest skepticism made you feel off about just going up and squeezing her right off. Especially after learning from Van Halm, back in Sosaldt- that your fiancée’s face and her sister’s were practically identical. Right down to that mole- and you had only seen Mathilda but once.

So you slowly approached, and stood before the red haired beauty- she glanced at you with those pretty eyes- but did not smile.

“Richter Von Tracht.” Judge Above, she even sounded exactly like her. “You’ve changed much since I last saw you. I don’t believe we’ve spoken, for months.”

“You are Mathilda Von Blum,” you presumed, “Why are you here?”

“I heard tell that the Archduke’s own Silver Lances returned home. That meant you would be coming back. We have matters to discuss, that have been put off for too long.”

“Do we?” you asked, “I’d half think you were here to deceive me. Your mole is in a different place than before.”

“You think me in disguise?” Mathilda pointed to her face, “Try to rub it away, if you think it false. If I wanted to deceive you, do you think that I could not? In every way I could? I did think it would be amusing to gauge your reaction, I admit.”

There was one certain difference- her arms, covered in gloves, but it wasn’t as though Maddalyn never wore gloves either.

“I still don’t understand what you could possibly want to talk to me about,” you said hesitantly.

“The one person we share a connection through, of course,” Mathilda said, beckoning, “Besides. If circumstances were different, I would be your fiancée, not her. Not out of any decision of ours, of course. I don’t bear you the ill will necessary to spite Maddalyn by using you.”

“But you do bear your sister ill will.”

“Of course I do,” Mathilda still beckoned with a hand, looking impatient, “I did not go from looking up to her, adoring her, to what I feel now just because the wind began to blow a different way. You’ve never asked her why, or has she never told you, if you did? If you want, then we can talk in a car. Not about what you can be told. About what you ought to ask, if you’re really so fond of one another as she seems to say. Otherwise, find your own transportation to the manor. That is where you are going, I’m sure.”

>Go along- you were curious enough. (Anything to ask, besides what she might say?)
>Decline. You still had nothing to say to Mathilda, or discuss about her sister.
>Other?
>>
>>5237779
>Go along- you were curious enough. (Anything to ask, besides what she might say?)
How much of your reasons for whatever resentment you have overlaps with your father's?

Otherwise we might as well start unravelling our in-laws mess right now.
>>
>>5237779
>Go along- you were curious enough. (Anything to ask, besides what she might say?)
So why doens't Maddalyn visit us from the station?
Is she busy?
Ask why there is suddenly an interest in good old half-face
>>
>>5237779
>Decline. You still had nothing to say to Mathilda, or discuss about her sister.
>>
>>5237779
>Go along- you were curious enough. (Anything to ask, besides what she might say?)

Last time we were here was before Valsten, any events of significance in the Blumlands since the whole Dawnseeker affair?
>>
>>5237798
Also speaking of marriage, how are the talks for yours going? I've seen your name and picture being put forward to some of my comrades in the army.
>>
>>5237796
No thanks, ho.

>>5237789
>>5237793
>>5237798
Alright- let's take a ride, then.
And various other questions.

Writing.
>>
>>5237779
>Go along- you were curious enough. (Anything to ask, besides what she might say?)

I'm predicting Maddy was the cause for her mother's death.
>>
“…Alright,” you said warily, “Lead the way. We’ll talk.”

“Good.” Mathilda nodded a small tilt of the chin. “Do not mind the guards. They’ll be much closer when we go to the car.”

There were guards? Of course there were- another look around told you they were not dressed in a very official manner though. They closed as you and Mathilda entered a long, well adorned luxury car fit with polished metal and brass, painted a sleek dark blue. An odd quirk- instead of the Von Blum emblem, you saw the lotus of the house of Strossvald…

“A gift,” Mathilda explained as she sat at one end of the passenger compartment- there was a few paces distance between a front and back row of seats, “Across from me, Von Tracht. Fritten, be in no hurry. Take a scenic route, but get us up to the hill in a timely manner.”

“Yes, m’lady,” one of the plain clothed men said with a bow.

You sat across the upper row of seats- you doubted this unfamiliar woman, for all she looked, would appreciate you cozying up next to her. She crossed her legs neatly as you sat, and the doors were closed after you.

“A gift from the Archduke?” you asked, “For who? Your family?”

“For me,” Mathilda said with a stiff tone, “I’m a known figure in courts, though I’ve heard you aren’t one to know of such things. We’ll just say that I have talents in socializing. Connections.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you said, “If we’re in no hurry, I have questions of my own, for you.”

Mathilda blinked dourly. “Go ahead.” Her face was distracting…her whole body was, so you looked out the window rather than into those eyes that were frighteningly the same as Maddalyn’s.

“I’m not going to predict why you hate Maddalyn so,” you started as you watched the sides of the streets- you’d embarked in the morning from Strosstadt, and now it was midday, and vendors had come out in force to entice workers out for lunch. “But I want to ask, is it a resentment that overlaps with your father’s, of her?”

“Lord Barnabas Von Blum,” Mathilda said, “Resents both of us, near equally. My sister, as well as I. We were both foolish, in different ways…though that is not the source of it. I won’t reveal that.”

So her father held the same low opinion of his other daughter, from a wife that he held above any other? Curious…though Van Halm’s story gave you a guess as to why, you weren’t so ignorant of manners as to bring up her being exploited in an affair at a scandalous age.
>>
“Fine, then,” you relaxed and leaned back into your seat. “You came. Yet Maddalyn didn’t. Why? Is she busy?” Certainly Mathilda couldn’t have been expected to act in a sisterly way and tell her.

“Busy? Yes. Very much so. In her secret studies and projects. I’ve not paid attention to what it is, my attention has been somewhere else,” Mathilda crossed her arms and tilted her chin up, “But the servants talk. She’s awake mostly at night. When she leaves, it isn’t to go out, but to check on her projects at the new laboratory my father provided for her. She’s been so distracted that she loses track of time- leaves mail set aside. Whatever it is, she thinks it’s very important, though you and I both know…it’s probably something best not meddled with. Yet, she’s convinced my father of its use. We’ll see what comes of it.”
Indeed- Maddalyn had confided in you about this project, but you’d not heard a bit of it since she told it to you- and you disapproved. She hadn’t been very happy with you about that.

“Yet you’ve come to pick me up, despite how busy she’s been. Not as a favor to her. Why the interest in me?”

“A cordial welcome suits a soon to be member of the family,” Mathilda said, uncrossing and crossing her legs back over one another, “Though I also know that my sister is the sort to keep secrets. You might think that I wore a mask when I waited for you, but you presume that Maddalyn isn’t just as capable of such a thing? She knows her masks just as well as I do. I might seem a spiteful person to you, if she’s said even a single thing about me, but I do know what love feels like. And I know how secrets and deception can break it. Call it a favor, if you like.”

That made you look back sharply into her eyes and glower. “I’d rather not.” Mathilda tilted her head and lifted her shoulders in a halfhearted shrug with no words. “Are you not set to be married soon? One of my comrades, one Von Metzeler, was offered your hand.”

“I am eighteen years old,” Mathilda said lightly, “I have been of age, and the family needs allies. It is not a choice I have a say in. So, I don’t particularly care when I say, no, I have not been engaged. For the better for my plans, anyways.”

Whatever those plans were- “Plans- so has anything else happened here, in the Blumlands? Since the Dawnseekers uprising? That might draw your family’s attention?”

“The Intelligence Office has been kept busy. I’ve not kept apprised of the details.” Mathilda bobbed her foot, “I know that most of them have been arrested, interrogated, and otherwise driven into hiding, or have run off. There are lists of wanted men. They have not caused a great amount of trouble since, and any incidents have been in the countryside. Compared to how it was, it’s practically back to normal.”
>>
“I see,” you said, “That’s all I had in mind.”

“More than I expected,” Mathilda said, “Now then. Tell me. Do you know of Von Blum’s second wife?”

“Yes. I forget her name, though.”

“Miriam. Miriam Von Blum,” Mathilda said, “One of my elder half-sisters was named after her. While my father was still married to his first wife, Clarice Von Eislichtfelt. As he tells it, they were friends, back then- before he knew that she would be his second wife. Before Von Eislichtfeld died of a hereditary blood disease. He waited a few years. Father made multiple individual expeditions to the mountains. That was where he met this Miriam. She was an Imperial exile. Hence, Maddalyn and I are Demimperi, particularly more so than the rest of the family.”

“None of this sounds secret.”

“It isn’t,” Mathilda said, “I’m only assuming you know nothing of the family. Anyways. Miriam Von Blum died only a couple of years after I was born. I have no memory of her. Do you know how she died?”

“She fell ill,” you recounted, “…why, is that not the whole truth?”

“It is the whole truth,” Mathilda said, a relief for whatever your paranoid subconscious had dreamt up, “She contracted a fever that turned fatal. In her last days, she rambled madly. What she said…that is what you ought to ask your wife to be, because she was there. There’s a few things you should ask her. For example…” Mathilda shuffled her shawl off of her shoulders, and peeled a glove from her arm. As it was pulled away…you saw something you’d seen before. Blackened, ashen flesh, with familiar flaking pattern to it. Blood and black tar shining and leaking slightly from where it cracked open. From below her elbow all the way to her fingertips. “Do you know how this happened? Do you know how long this has been like this?”

You stared at the ugly mutilation. “I know how it might happen…”

“Maddalyn did this to me,” Mathilda said, her voice breaking for a moment, “Her own sister. Do you know how old I was? I was seven years old. It was not done as a kindness, or even an attempt at one. Ask her why she did this to me. Why she mutilated me, made me have to keep this secret from those who might have otherwise loved me. For a time, I thought I deserved it. I still loved her even then, until years later, when I realized what she had cost me.”
>>
“I…” You didn’t want to believe it. It was unthinkable. Maddalyn would have been…thirteen? Yes, you knew nothing of what might have been happening then, but there had to be a reason… “There is a reason,” was all you could say.

“Yes. There is, and if she thinks of you as anything other than a toy, a dumb pet so that she doesn’t feel so alone in the world, then she’ll tell you. The final thing you should ask,” Mathilda said, as she glanced outside as the car stopped. You looked and saw you were being let through the gates to the Von Blum’s villa atop a hill overlooking Blumsburgh, “Ask her to show you the grave beneath the manor.” The door opened for you. “Go and see your fiancée then, Von Tracht,” Mathilda said icily, “She’s been longing to see you. I, however, have appointments to keep. Goodbye, for now.”

You didn’t need encouragement as you left the car, and you didn’t bother saying your own parting. You were too busy thinking about what you’d been told, as you walked without thinking to the front door, mumbled to the servants who let you in, and settled down heavily on an armchair in the foyer, staring up at the ceiling, to the painted ceiling of the entry hall, depicting a grand battle- the Von Blums had been a powerful family even before the Archduchy was formed. They had been around since Alexander had conquered Sosalia, as one of the disparate petty kingdoms to fall under his sword, though they had been allowed to keep their place. The battle was a scene from before then- and your memory failed you in placing when it was.

Spiteful lies. That was what Maddalyn’s younger sister had to be telling you. Why tell the truth? Why not just ruin you for her sister? Then again, if she intended to do that, couldn’t she have done that in a far more visceral, cold hearted way, rather than merely telling you to ask questions?

You didn’t want to think of this right now. You wanted to see your Maddalyn. You wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, to do all sorts of dirty things to her in the confines of her bedroom. To take her in hand in the courtyard and put a golden ring on her finger, to watch her swell up in motherhood. To see her smile, and be happy for the both of you.

No, none of this had to be asked. Not right away…it could wait. There was time. It had to wait. You wouldn’t suffer this sort of indecisive doubt when you’d returned from war.

Yet still. It refused to leave your mind, so you leaned back, and stared emptily, until you fell asleep…blissful darkness, with no visitors. Darkness interrupted a couple of hours later by a maid.
>>
“Sir Von Tracht,” she said quietly as she shook your shoulder, “You’ve been dozing. We thought you might want to see Lady Maddalyn..?”

“Huh?” You wiped your eyes groggily, “Oh…oh, of course. Yes. Though I…didn’t know where she might be.”

“In her room,” the maid said, “She’s probably asleep. I’ll let you in, if you like.”

“Please,” you got up so quickly you almost fell over.

Up the stairs you followed, until you were before a decorated door, embossed with a name. Her room…last time, there had been an old soulbinder asleep in here. You’d rather not have him around, frankly, so you asked after him- and discovered he had been moved elsewhere. Fantastic. You couldn’t care less about where that slumbering old wizard was who would never wake up, so long as he wasn’t in the corner of where you planned to get out everything you’d had to hold in for too long.

Quietly, the maid unlocked the door of Maddalyn’s room, and opened it with nary a sound, motioning you in with a slight smile. “She’s been staying up very late at night, and has been working quite hard…so she may be too exhausted to go anywhere for now. I’m sure she’ll be relieved to see you safe and sound.”
A nod to the maid, and a whirl of your finger for her not to linger outside the door, please, as you stepped through and heard the door close behind you- though not lock. Though there was a deadbolt inside, anyways, you noted.

There she was. Your little lady, your princess- for real this time. Assuredly. She was indeed asleep- not in her bed, but at her desk, where a pile of heavy tomes sat, one open, its pages so faded that you could barely see what was on it, which was indecipherable script anyways. Scribbles and pages were piled haphazardly elsewhere on the desk, mostly numbers, and the same sort of unknown script that was part of the ancient book. Maddalyn herself was very much in dreamland- even if you had barged in, you doubted you’d have woken her, as she was leaned back in her chair, chin tilted down to her chest, in soft pajamas, the circles under her eyes even more pronounced than in the photo you’d seen of her. Her hair was messy, though she didn’t smell as though she hadn’t bathed…a touch of her hair sent your heart racing again. She was asleep- but that wouldn’t do…

>Wake her up. Whether you wait or not, you want her awake. Do something about it.
Then-
>?
>>
>>5237894
>Wake her up. Whether you wait or not, you want her awake. Do something about it.
Shake her gently awake

Then-
>?
Hug time
>>
>>5237894
>Wake her up. Whether you wait or not, you want her awake. Do something about it.
Waiting is for the best.

Move her to the bed and get her as comfortable as we can, use our coat / scarf etc. to keep her warm if getting her under the covers is likely to wake her up, and alert her to our presence should we need to leave the room.

"Allowing" her sleep "uninterrupted" for as long as she does, is very important, especially if if she hasn't been keeping to a regular schedule that downtime be uninterrupted, hopefully now that we are back we can assist in gradually curbing distracting her from some of these tendencies.

Coming up with a list of people to send invites to the wedding would probably, worth doing and be a good starting point once she is awake, since leading with "Mathilda's questions" is probably a bad idea and should be brought up at a later point, if ever I'm not really sure that we can do anything at all regarding their feelings for one another in the short term, let alone the long term, or if we even want to try though we should let her know that she was there to pick us up, from the station and that some things were discussed.
>>
>>5237894
>Wake her up. Whether you wait or not, you want her awake. Do something about it.
Richter is eager it seems!
Nibble on her ears till she wakes up and hope to god she followed your advice from the letter.

>?
Bring her to the bed and hug and kiss and cuddle the ever loving bejesus outta her. Every visable part of her body should be smooched at least once.
Tears should be shed and undying love should be confessed.
Nothing sexy beyond the usual groping, but melt into her completely otherwise.
Just Raw Unabashed Comfort.
We can talk about wedding stuff followed by Mathilda stuff after we spend the next day squeezing Richter's beloved wife like a teddy bear.
>>
>>5237894
>Wake her up. Whether you wait or not, you want her awake. Do something about it.
Give her a honk

>?
With feeling
>>
>>5237896
+1
>>
>>5237894
>Wake her up. Whether you wait or not, you want her awake. Do something about it.

Nibble her ear
>>
>>5237894
>Move her to the bed, cuddle and wait.
>>
>>5237894
>(?)
Supporting moving her to her bed.
Stroke her hair and quietly call her back to wakefullness. Richter and Maddy really shouldn't be reunited after war by startling oneanother.
>>
>>5237916
this
>>
>>5237896
>>5238091
Shake it. Then smother it.

>>5237916
>>5238167
>>5238100
Go ear spelunking.

>>5238151
Be more reserved about the whole thing.

>>5237899
In fact, let her get her rest.

>>5238085
Blatant assault.

Writing.
>>
>>5238125
Also you.
>>
>>5238271
I would much rather let her rest than rudely and lewdly awaken her. If you are just taking the majority vote, I will switch my vote to support >>5237899
>>
>>5238291
Too late, digger.
>>
The temptation was to go on Maddalyn right away. To pull back her hair and do what she liked best- but as you closed in on that pale ear, you glanced to the chair, then the bed- and thought to have just a little more patience. A chair was no place to sleep, as you ought to have known.

So you slipped one hand behind her back, and another under her legs, and picked her up as slowly as you could- testing your right hand first to try and be sure you wouldn’t pinch her with an unintended twitch of your mechanical digits. She was lighter than you remembered- but she only sniffed slightly when you lifted her, and moved her over to her lush bed, clean, well made, and fluffy, yet forsaken in order to work herself to exhaustion. Trying to get her under the covers proved to be too much maneuvering- she stirred a little when you tried, so you settled for laying her atop it and putting one of the thin loose blankets over her, before pulling up the chair beside her bed and sitting in it yourself. She needed her sleep…and you could watch her a while, rather than probing around her things.

She was your fiancée. It wasn’t strange to just watch her breathe, was it? To study every contour of her face, her body, again, after so long. There was no eyepatch on her- had she managed to heal that damage, after so long? You checked your watch- time passed by too slowly, she slept too soundly, but you didn’t want to wake her up right away, at least…
Until you simply couldn’t wait longer, after over an hour. A hand came up without you thinking about it, and ran a finger through her hair. You tried to avoid catching on any tangles, and swept aside bunched locks that bounced as your touch left them.

“Mmmnn.” She still didn’t wake, though she shifted in her sleep and sighed thinly.

Should you be more aggressive? You wanted her up. It was bad enough that the first person you saw was her sister and not her- you didn’t want to delay being with her further to handle whatever else there was here.

You shuffled off your jacket and mask onto the chair, leaned forward, and bit softly on her ear. Rolled the tip of your tongue over the edge of it, and moved down to the lobe, which you blew on softly before tugging at it with your lips. None of the deep kissing Maddalyn liked when she was awake- much as you were tempted. That could wait. It still took some time, as you ran your hand over her head and your mouth over her ear, straying to her neck sometimes. Then, she finally stretched her back her shoulders raising and a whine coming from her like a cat waking up.

“Mnnn…nnn. Who..?” Maddalyn was hardly out of sleep, as her eyes were squinted shut and she pawed about at your face blearily, before finding your eyes, your nose, the crinkled and burned edge and side beyond it. “…Richter..?”
>>
The only excuse you needed, as you turned her onto her back and squeezed your fiancée around her middle, and planted your lips firmly to hers. Her mouth was dry, and had an off taste, but you didn’t care in the moment.

“Mmf.”

“I’ve missed you so,” you whispered to her, as you held her as tightly as you could, nestling your face in her hair.

“Mmmrrgh,” Maddalyn wriggled, “Mmn.” She rubbed her eyes with a single hand, as her other was pinned against her side by you. “When did…when did you get-“ Her question was interrupted by another kiss, one you held for longer.

Part of you wanted to weep for joy, but it couldn’t force any tears from your eyes. A stronger part flatly refused, now. It didn’t allow it. “Not too long ago,” you said, “All that matters is that I’m here now. With you. And I’ll be staying a long time.”

Maddalyn’s hand pushed you up, and you let her sit upwards, but still had one hand on her back- and slipped your other down to brush your fingers against her bottom. Maddalyn’s eyes were still squeezed shut tight, but she still felt your face as you let her other arm go. “You’re back…I’m sorry, I’m just…so tired…Geh.” That last expression of muted annoyance as you squeezed her butt. Too long, it had been too long since you groped that peerless eminence, and you moved your other hand to grasp it by the other side. “Richter…please…”

“You’re irresistible,” you told her with no hesitation as you pushed your hands down her soft pajama bottoms, pushed your palms against those firm slopes, pushed her panties to ride up and around for less obstruction. From her face you moved down to her throat, and kissed her collarbones, then her neck. She wriggled in your grip as you lavished her with weeks of pent up energy that you were still holding back from.

“Stop…” she pushed at you again, and you did this time. “…There…” She opened her eyes just a little, but they shut again, and you missed any chance to study the one that had been cut out. “Lie down with me…” You obeyed your lady, and she nestled up against you in the crook of your arm, which you gave willingly to her. “…Hmmmm…” a deep and satisfied sigh, as she sank into you, face pushed into your chest, and her breathing slowed again within moments. So it was going to be like that then, you relented as you gave up any attempts to molest her further. She wanted to sleep, and would not be dissuaded- but she wanted to sleep with you, clearly much more satisfied with the present arrangement. Even if it meant you couldn’t do anything but lay in her bed and hold her.

It was good enough, you thought as you laid back. You couldn’t ask for more.
>>
Another couple of hours passed- though you couldn’t sleep. You weren’t tired at all- it was only afternoon. A soft knock came at the door, and you reflexively got up to answer it- despite Maddalyn sleepily grabbing at you and squeaking in protest that you dared to get up and leave her grasp for even a moment as you put your mask back on.

“Sir Von Tracht,” an elderly fellow dressed in a fine suit and silver chain awaited you at the door. Somebody important looking, amongst servants, at least. “Lord Von Blum requests your presence…if you are available. I would dare not interrupt any other plans Sir Von Tracht has.”

“No, it’s alright, thank you for letting me know,” you brushed your hand over your head, unsure if laying in bed might have upset your grooming. “What does he want to meet me for?”

“Matters of promotion and assignment, sir,” the servant said plainly, “A returning Silver Lance, and your prior history…and a military man who is part of the family ought to have a place in the territory’s forces, as he says.”

>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.
>Claim that you have plans, presently- you’ll get back to Lord Von Blum. You needed to get Maddalyn up, now, and get to doing things… (Such as what?)
>Acknowledge the request- but you’d meet later. You needed to spent more time with your darling, even if it was just to be a bedwarmer for however long it took.
>Other?
>>
>>5238447
>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.
Let her sleep, she needs the rest and we do need to talk to Lord Von Blum on how Richter can best contribute going forward.
>>
>>5238447
>>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.
Let's see how far cronyism can take us with this promotion - personally I'm aiming for Vice Admiral.
>>
>>5238447
>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.

Ties in well with us wanting to visit the armouries and workshops
>>
>>5238447
>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.
>>
>>5238447
>Acknowledge the request- but you’d meet later. You needed to spent more time with your darling, even if it was just to be a bedwarmer for however long it took.
I wanna Staaaaaay!
Imagine doing all this and Maddalyn waking up and having a panic attack when Richter isn't around. We can't let that happen!
In all seriousness though, the grumpy old fuck and his promotion can wait. He outta be happy Richter is finally in bed with his daughter, even if it’s not quite doing what he wanted done.
Yet.
>>
>>5238447
>>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.
>>
>>5238447
>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.
>>
>>5238447
>Alright, you’ll meet right away. Maddalyn needed to sleep more, anyways, clearly.

Ohhh I don't like this. Somehow it reminds me too much like the court martial.
I know in the event that Richter's loyalties would be put to the flame he'd side with Maddy, but it does not sit well with me that Von Blum is so quickly moving to cement us into his forces.

I mean fuck he hasn't even said hello to us and already we're being fit into his plans.
Let's just not agree to anything too quickly.
>>
>>5238447
>Acknowledge the request- but you’d meet later. You needed to spent more time with your darling, even if it was just to be a bedwarmer for however long it took.
>>
>>5238449
>>5238451
>>5238454
>>5238455
>>5238624
>>5238635
>>5238694
Go and see your soon-to-be father in law.

>>5238490
>>5238840
No, I want to snuggle my womanlet!

Duty calls. Booty later.

Writing.
>>
“Oh, I’ll see him right away,” you said, looking back to Maddalyn- she needed her sleep anyways. What were you really doing there? She’d understand…though. “Just a moment.” You went back and wrapped her mother’s scarf around her, though she still sleepily grasped for you with barely audible mutterings. “Alright,” you said when you came back to her bedroom door to the servant, “Lead on.”

Lord Barnabas Von Blum, territorial lord of the Archduchy and patriarch of the Blumlands, waited for you in one of the manor’s sitting rooms. The sitting room itself was decorated with arching dark wooden pillars at the walls, lighter wood paneling forming columns interspersed with one another from one end of the room to the other to form the effect of one end of the room growing lighter than the other as one went from the entrance. The Lord was attended to by a servant who held a silver platter in his hands, though everything had been taken off of it and put on a squat table for four, intricately carved with geometric patterns and made of deep dark wood- one amongst several, them and their velvet cushioned high backed chairs seeming to form a set, though from the deep red plush carpet, ever piece of the entire room very well could have been made for one another.

Barnabas Von Blum, a dour and stoic expression on his face, motioned with his hand for you to sit across from him. You glanced from side to side- were you supposed to do something, first? Never mind. You sat down.

“In the future,” Lord Von Blum said in a clear and deep voice, “If you bring along any guests, have the courtesy for them to salute or bow.”

“You wished to see me, your grace?” you said, bowing somewhat at the shoulders.

“I did. Among other things, but also, for tea.” He waved to his servant, who took a softly steaming kettle and poured a pair of cups of red-black tea into porcelain cups, themselves intricately painted with monochromatic portraits of figures labeled as ancestors of the Von Blum family. “I understand that you may not have had it in some time. Netillians being more fond of their herbs, than proper tea…though as they rather enjoy their autarchy, one can understand discomfort with trying to procure civilized drink from Zhantao through Caelus, or even local cultivars from East Valsten, as this tea here is. Do you prefer milk or sugar, Von Tracht?”

“Sugar,” you said quickly, and stared into the cup as you were presented it- smelled it deeply. This was the proper stuff. “Thank you, Lord Von Blum.”
>>
“You are welcome,” Von Blum put his hands together on the table and leaned forward. “Let us start the object of this meeting. Tell me, how would it feel to be called Major Von Tracht?”

You paused as you were about to sip at this fine tea. “A double promotion, your grace?”

“Veterans of the Silver Lances are often offered promotions, as they’ve proved a skill warranting it for many territories, or even the Archduchy’s own troops,” Von Blum took a long drink, “I am merely preempting any counteroffers. From my own specialists’ inquiries, you have already performed duties suited to a Captain.”

“I have…” you allowed. Though you could mention that some of those duties were performed while executing a mission to rescue the daughter of this man, something he apparently had provided no aid to do…not yet.

“No sane man would offer you to retire from the Silver Lances for anything more than a promotion to such. There is no particular place for you to command quite yet, but rest assured, there are plans, for you and also your subordinate officers, as they are listed under you, under myself. Should you accept.”

A sip at the tea. Heavenly. “The conditions for acceptance being, presumably, that I join the territorial forces of the Blumlands,” you said.

“And swear an oath of service to my person and house until such time as you are released,” Von Blum added levelly, “Subordinate to the oath to the Archduchy, of course.”

“Of course.” Though you wrinkled your nose slightly. Both of you knew well that when the Archduke called for troops for war, the Territorial Lords did not necessarily have to send more than what they arbitrarily decided they could, whilst still maintaining the integrity of their territory. Outright disloyalty was an illegal act, but if a Territory withheld its troops, the oath to the duchy meant far more than to the capital.

“It would also be appropriate for a member of our extended family, serving in a military capacity, to play a part beyond a mere platoon commander,” Von Blum continued, “Not that you will be a Von Blum. Maddalyn will herself become Von Tracht-Blum. However, the favors of your father have not been forgotten still.”

The tea was best drunk slow, but you had to hold yourself back from putting it all away in a few gulps. You could taste the quality- and that even though another cup would come when you wished, this was not merely water with leaves in it.
>>
“There are also the matters,” Von Blum said slowly, between a drink of tea and a motion for one of the servants to bring…something. “Of your introduction to the court here, and of your wedding. I understand that you are not much of an upper class socialite. That is fine, but it will not do for you to show up at the wedding ceremony and not have been seen by the nobility who will appear. Including my other sons and daughters. We have had to move back the planned date of the wedding several times now, but we have decided now that it will take place in three weeks. It may not sound like much time, but we have prepared multiple times, ahead of time, now…”

“I understand,” you nodded, “And the, er, court introduction..?”

“In one week and a half,” Lord Von Blum said, “Your military dress will be sufficient, though if you accept my promotion offer, we will have to hold that ceremony beforehand. You will be instructed in not making a fool of yourself, however, Maddalyn should be able to prevent that. She has familiarity with the courts well enough.”

She didn’t strike you as such whenever you were in private, but, yes, she knew how to maneuver politics. “Aren’t your other children here?”

“Bastian, my heir, is. Manfred, the Blue, is out, as are my daughters besides Maddalyn and Mathilda. They will all be at dinner, which I trust you will be attending.”

“Yes, your grace.” It seemed your evening plans had been made for you. Something you didn’t necessarily like…nor the other plans which seemed to have been made for you without you knowing, though none of it seemed unnecessary, at least. “The Blue, my lord?”

“Manfred is the blood heir to my first wife’s family titles. He is, formally, Mandred Von Eislichtfelt-Blum. The territory Clarice left as the last of her bloodline was called Blaulichtfeld. Therefore, the Blue.”

“I see.”

“Better for you to hear it from me than my son,” Von Blum scowled, “He would take an entire night to tell the tale, and the first two tales would be myth. In any case. I would hear your answer to my proposal forthwith. As well as any other requests you may have, if you require more to accept the conditions of entering my services as a soldier. I would understand if you decline. The Silver Lances are a prestigious unit, and your heritage, but you must also know that to leave them once is not to leave them forever, anyways…”

>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder…
>You’d have to refuse. A lieutenant you may remain, but the Silver Lances are still your unit.
>Other?
Also-
>Anything else to ask/request?
>>
>>5238901
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder.
>>
>>5238901
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder…
>>
Obligatory
https://youtube.com/watch?v=jZH3SpBujwk
>>
>>5238901
>Other?
What about a double oath?
Go along with the silver lances when called, But receive a singular promotion in the von Blum military and be part of it when not called.
>>
>>5238901
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder…
>>
>>5238901
This is a momentous crossroads. Partially for just how much a hand we want in Duchy politics/ number of units to command and part for which side we leap if the cookie were to crumble...as it were.

I genuinely enjoy the idea of Silver Lance adventures. But I also like the idea of Richter taking it easy for awhile and the challenges of Command with a capital C.

Maybe if >>5238934 is feasible I'd support that. Is it possible for a soldier to have a rank in a Duchal army higher than his Nations armed forces?

And if it isn't I'd go:
>You’d have to refuse. A lieutenant you may remain, but the Silver Lances are still your unit.

Bigger than any of this is when this shit Kicks Off, which side do I want Richter to be fighting on? His legacy with the Lances and loyalty to the Archduke, not even including IO shenanigans. Or would it be better to play powerbroker on the Von Blums side.
>>
>>5238901
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder…
Captain Von Tracht will do, no one would take Richter seriously if he was a Major after a year plus of service. At least we have experience commanding company sized units.
>>
>>5238901
>>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
>>
>>5238901
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder…
>>
>>5238981
Additionally:
>Anything else to ask/request?

Just get the Lord's official approval to go visit our tank's workshop sometime in the future (even if we don't really need to), on the basis of seeing if the M32/B can be further improved and modified based on our extensive user experiences and stress testing with the model.

Also I'd be curious to hear what prelimianary plans there are as far as our next posting is concerned since anons might want to offer their own suggestions.
>>
>>5238901
>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
It's not like Richter hasn't done enough shit to earn it at this point. My only concern is the politicking inherent in becoming a Staff Officer. If we accept any promotion, we'll still be beholden to Von Blum so I don't see much of a reason to not take what we can get here
>>
>>5238901
>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
>>
>>5238901
>A singular promotion would do. You didn’t want to appear unseemly, exploiting relations to climb the ladder…
I really wanna just go for the Major spot, but then I remember the other Major we know and think, "Can Richter out do or match that person?"
No.
No, he can not.
We know plenty if Captains Richter can match though, and given Richter does have the favor of his wive's family for now, it shouldn't be too hard to distinguish ourselves enough to and get a cheeky promotion later.
I just hope Richter not taking Major means we offer off the job to some asshole.
>>
>>5238901
>>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
Richter's commanded Battalions, advised for a Battalion mixed force and even commanded adhoc Battalion sized formations in battle, both legally and not so legally. I think its time we get the rank for the jobs we've been consistently given.

>>5239030
>No, he can not.
What exactly has he been doing before the Silver Lances assignment though? Those were roles and responsibilities fit for a Major.
>>
>>5238901
>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
Don't really see any downsides. It's not even strictly political, we are well qualified for the job, even if a bit young. It also helps assure that we are less likely to be under someone that is there purely for their politics and not their merit and capability of command.
>>
>>5238901
>>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
>>
>>5238901
>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
>>
>>5238952
>Is it possible for a soldier to have a rank in a Duchal army higher than his Nations armed forces?
Well, that's the thing. The Territorial Armies are the Nation's armed forces- so holding rank in one is equivalent to any other, as since centralization measures over time have taken place, on paper, it's all one army, even if that isn't how it works in practice.
If it sounds like a potential administrative mess, that's because it is.
In any case, taking whatever promotion does mean it applies to your actual army rank. You don't have a separate one for separate military stations.
What you do have, however, is separate ranks for army position, and position within secretive internal espionage organizations, since though the latter has paramilitary elements it is not subordinate to or connected to the armed forces.

Anyways, I'll be calling it in about an hour or so.
>>
>>5238901
>>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…
I'm guessing Richter's life is going to have a lot more politicking and courtly affairs from now on, and like it or not there are a lot of people who will judge him based purely on his rank. Especially considering that Richter actually has the military experience to reflect the position of major, he would be doing himself a disservice if he only got promoted to captain and let people think that all he did in his military career was command a tank and then receive a generous promotion upon leaving the Lances. A high promotion is the best way to convert our military experience to political influence.
>>
>>5238901
>A double promotion? You’d accept, naturally. Reaching Major at your age was no easy feat…

Don't know why we'd do anything else
>>
>>5239150
Do the Territorial Lords each have their own separate Defence Ministries and General Staffs like some of the German kingdoms had post-unification or does it all fall under the one in the capital?
>>
>>5238913
>>5238925
>>5238941
>>5238981
>>5238984
>>5239030
Go for Cap.

>>5238983
>>5239014
>>5239019
>>5239051
>>5239074
>>5239084
>>5239133
>>5239152
>>5239157
Double Down.

>>5238934
>>5238934
Try to go for both?
Taking two would not be necessary, by the by.

Close one for a bit. Writing.

>>5239177
>Do the Territorial Lords each have their own separate Defence Ministries and General Staffs like some of the German kingdoms had post-unification or does it all fall under the one in the capital?
General staff, yes, but defense ministries outside of basic territorial defense, no, besides vestigial organization. Granted, their definition of what is necessary for territorial defense will vary, but when it comes down to it, they're required to have systems set up for their contribution to the armed forces to be able to work subordinate to Capital Command. Ergo, fuck-fuck games like a territorial lord promoting one of their officers to a lieutenant general and then that officer refusing to follow orders from Capital Command based on their rank is forbidden in word and spirit.
TL;DR Sort of but they have to play nice.
>>
“Placing my allegiance with your family would not preclude my return to the Silver Lances if called or if I saw fit to return, would it?” You followed off of the mention of the unit you’d just parted with.

Barnabas Von Blum closed his eyes and thought. “No, it would not. It wouldn’t do for you to be separated from your legacy. Though…” Von Blum looked into your eyes as he took a long sip of tea once more, icy blue eyes boring into yours. “A word of warning, before you commit. Difficult times may be coming, and we must be prepared for them. I hope for the best, but do keep the worst in your expectations.”

You swallowed loudly. Not something you wanted to hear…but Maddalyn had asked you before, whether you would stay by her family’s side. You had told her that you would be with her, though you also hoped that such a thing would not come to pass. “I understand. I accept your offer, then, Lord Von Blum. I do rather like the sound of…”

“…Of?” Von Blum prompted.

“Of Major,” you said finally. You had given some serious thought to only accepting a singular promotion…but didn’t you deserve this? Why turn it down? What if it meant that somebody else got the position planned for you, and that messed something up? A poor trade, for naught but a show of humility. The downsides were merely those that would have crept into your life even if you delayed your ascent. An officer’s life grew more political the higher they went, and you couldn’t exactly say you hadn’t already been entangled in such things. Perhaps it was time to start trying to throw your weight around on that stage, before you were forced to another way?

“Very good, then,” Lord Von Blum raised a finger to a servant, who took his cup to pour him another round of tea, “That important matter is out of the way, then. Was there anything you wished to request? If not, then remain here as long as you wish. The important business is out of the way.”

“Yes, actually,” you said, raising your cup to your lips again. You weren’t about to let talk make you tolerate lukewarm tea. “I wanted your official approval to visit the tank manufacturing here, specifically, where my own tank was made. I’ve had much experience with it now, and I think I’m well qualified to advise on making improvements.”

“That can be arranged,” Barnabas said without seeming to mind much, “However.” He motioned to his servants, who nodded and left the two of you alone, closing the door behind them. “As I am certain you are aware. Your model of m/32 is quite different from the already special variant this land produces.”
>>
“Yes. Very much so,” you agreed with this vast understatement, “Though I was under the presumption that the particular differences were, ah, unable to be produced further…”

“Attempts to amend that have been restarted,” Von Blum said with a hint of restraint, caution, “I would not have permitted it, but to prepare for what may come, we will not shirk any potential arms superiority, so long as the risk of attracting particular attention does not outweigh battlefield advantage. My sons convinced me of such, after recent events.”

“I would have much to say in how to improve it by normal means as well,” you said, unsure if you’d have recommended trying to reproduce the strange, supernatural and poorly understood elements of your m/32.

“There are other projects in development, of course,” Von Blum said, “Though be extremely discreet with whom you talk about special projects with.” He raised a small bell and jingled it twice, and the servants returned calmly. “Tieglin,” he addressed one servant, “Contact Kellberg, or his head engineers. Either way, Von Tracht here must be inducted into their advisory group. Do it with all haste.”

“Yes, my lord,” the servant bowed and turned on his heel, stepping quickly out.

“You’ve met Kellberg,” Von Blum said, “Though he may not remember you. My seal will speed matters. By tomorrow, you should have clearance permissions a top advisor of Kellberg Works Mechanical Engineering and Metallurgy should have…even for secret projects. The same clearance as my son and heir Bastian Von Blum has, who has a large hand in such projects himself.”

“Thank you, my lord,” you said with a slight bend forward. Some excitement and wonder welled deep within- what might the other projects in development even be? “With regards to my promotion, though, I was wondering. Where might I find myself, once I have my command..?”

“I cannot say yet,” Von Blum told you, “The Archduke…or rather, his Minister of War, wishes to gather the forces of the Archduchy to aid the revolt of Almizea against Plisseau. You have heard of this event, yes?” You nodded. “Events in Netilland have delayed such a plan, but since that war has taken a certain turn, I expect that in the coming months, a decision will be made on the Archduchy’s northern commitments. I doubt that you will have to attend to such, unless you particularly want to, but time will tell. I also doubt that the Silver Lances will be calling you back soon, either.”
>>
So the expected official destination was Almizea, or perhaps, an unexpected event. That did not account for whatever the Intelligence Office might drag you into, but it was good to know.

“That was all I wanted to discuss,” you said, “Though I would very much like another cup of this tea…”

“Ask the servants, then,” Von Blum said, “When you depart, remember. Dinner will be at six o’clock tonight. Punctuality is unnecessary in the home, but it would be a good precedent to be set upon for your later debut…”

-----

When you returned to Maddalyn, you had been concerned that she might have woken up, and found that you left- but no, she was still slumbering. As soon as you lay beside her again, she felt for you and held you tightly again, unconsciously feeling for her husband. It warmed the heart, though you were a little impatient for her to finish her rest. Dinner was in only a few hours, after all, and you’d have liked to have done something with her before then. She’d probably want to bathe before even dinner, or even departing to any place, considering her disheveled state.

…Or perhaps, it was best to wait until after? Certain things were certainly better suited for night time, but then, if Maddalyn was continuing her work with a nocturnal schedule…

Maybe it would be best to ask her to take a night off, for both of your sakes? Or did you want to see what she might have been up to..?

>Plan for what you want to do to/with Maddalyn, when she wakes up.
>>
>>5239374
>Plan for what you want to do to/with Maddalyn, when she wakes up.
kiss her and talk about our adventures and ask about what she did while we were gone.
>>
>>5239374
>Plan for what you want to do to/with Maddalyn, when she wakes up.
Laze in bed and talk, there's plenty of stuff we need to get to, both heavy and light-hearted.
>>
>>5239374
>Plan for what you want to do to/with Maddalyn, when she wakes up.
Stay in bed with her till she wakes up, butt groping as she sleeps is expected. It's simply been too long and it's right there! I'm sure she won't mind waking up with Richter's good hand in her pants.

If she gets up and wants to work, then now would be a great time to shadow her to see what she's been up to keeping herself so busy.

If she wants to spend time with Richter, then it would be a great time for both parties to get a wash, possibly even together, and for Richter to talk about all the wonderful and traum- I mean, exciting stories of the front.
As well as getting a nice prep on his future political responsibilities, now that he's a Major. (Important figures of her father's court, allies to keep note of, any military figures she's been working within her project, ect)
As well as all the people that he's invited to the wedding, and the plans for after the Wedding, like the honeymoon and stuffing her womb like a baked potato.

Lots to talk about.
And Richter should wanna talk about everything and anything, besides the "Mathilda questions" of course.
That comes later.
I'd honestly like to see if she brings it up on her own, so give her at least a week of fun before we bring up those bitter topics.
>>
>>5239374
>Plan for what you want to do to/with Maddalyn, when she wakes up.
Talk about what we've both been up to since our last letters, as well as the court introduction.
For the family dinner later is there anything pertinent we should know about her half-siblings?
>>
>>5239374
Save any heavy intimacy for night time, she'll probably be more awake for it then anyway. Seconding the idea to ask about her family members that we'll be meeting at dinner. Other than that just make sure that we're both bathed and ready for dinner on time.
>>
General reminder to get ready for a visit from Poltergeist.
Might wanna get Maddalyn ready for that too, considering the fuck shit her family is getting into, especially with the tanks.
We were told directly that the creation of the M/32 was a murderable offense.
Not this moment though, maybe later around the same time we start poking at the other touchy subjects.
>>
>>5239513
Maddy should know, he needs to pop by for the Demiphantom collection anyway.

Additionally one of the things that should be raised during our stories of the front is all the soulbinders popping up, especially at the Garten site.
>>
>>5239374
Put your sword in its scabbard.
>>
>>5239386
>>5239387
>>5239413
>>5239474
Lie in bed and talk. There's plenty to catch up on.

>>5239535
But which one?

>>5239486
Save the former for latter.

Writing.
>>
It turned out, as you thought about it, what you wanted to do most was talk to Maddalyn, about…quite a few things. More than you wanted to assault her, now- some of that energy had managed to find its way elsewhere, to be recovered later, at a better time.

So you waited, tried to close your eyes yourself, but couldn’t quite sleep, despite Maddalyn’s warmth and soft breathing. Your thoughts were simply too occupied. Until, finally, Maddalyn stirred properly, stretched on her own, without prompting, and you looked over at her opening her eyes again.

“…So it wasn’t a dream…” she said with a yawn, and buried herself in your chest once more, “I’m so glad…” You tilted her back, and this time, she was ready and waiting for you when you touched your lips together and held each other close. No soul kissing- just the deep touch of affection, mutually felt, and mercifully, lacking in an excess of drool.

“No dream. I’ve returned, as I said.”

“…Although,” Maddalyn shifted and turned her head to look behind her, “That wasn’t a dream…are you the reason why my underwear is riding up so high..?”

Oh. Right. “Yes.”

“Mmph,” Maddalyn pouted, “Hmph.”

“As I said, you’re irresistible, my dearest.”

“…As are you,” Maddalyn said in slow acceptance, sprawling her hands over you. “Did I make you wait long, for me to wake? I apologize, I’ve been…busy.”

“No time spent waiting with you is too long,” you said with a stroke of her hair, “I’ve so much to tell you, to ask you, and we’ve the time for it all.” A pause. “Rather, except, your father did instruct me that dinner would be in a little under two hours from now.”

“Oh.” Maddalyn sat upright, “Then I ought to take a bath.”

“May I as well?” you half teased.

No,” Maddalyn said crossly, “I won’t be long, I just need to…do some grooming.”
>>
Yet you couldn’t at least watch her? You’d certainly done more racy things in the past, far more. Was she just that embarrassed of her naked body in totality? Part of you wanted to press on that…

>Prod her. You would be bathing together.
>Offer to help wash her. Refuse to be dissuaded.
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
>Other?

“Wait just a bit before that, though,” you wrapped an arm around her waist, “Let’s talk some more. I don’t want to let you go quite yet. I’ve been waiting too long to be able to even lie next to you.” Besides, she’d used you as a bedwarmer quite thoroughly now- it was only fair that she shouldn’t just skip away yet.

“…Oh, alright,” Maddalyn sighed smally, “I ought to make ready first, but…we have time.”

“There’s so much to tell you about, that I’ve seen,” you led on first, “My time with the Silver Lances. Whom I encountered. What I saw. First, though, I want to give you happy news.” Matters of, say, curious soulbinders and where they were encountered, and how they might be interested in projects here, could wait a little. As well as the lingering thoughts of Mathilda’s own ideas set in your head. “Your father offered me a double promotion in exchange for entering his command. I will be Major Von Tracht, soon enough. The youngest major I know of.”

“Oh?” Maddalyn looked at you, wide eyed, “Oh, that’s excellent. I don’t know what the duties of that rank are, but,” She leaned into you, “I’m happy for you. That you’ve advanced onwards, and that my father has that interest in you. You’ll be my knight for true, more than words, part of my father’s army…”

Well. Technically, you already had been, albeit on lease. As were Von Metzeler, Krause, Von Walen, and all the others, at least according to the paperwork. This did make your involvement with the territory far more official, however.

“I certainly feel as though I’ve earned it,” you said, “For once, I’ve been recognized for my efforts by men of my homeland. I’ve also received the right to wear a pair of awards. The Silver Lances are full of noble and decent people. They’ve recognized my deeds…though I’d recognize any of my comrades, as well.”

“What are they?” Maddalyn asked, “The medals?”

“The White Ribbon of Grace, for saving a fellow soldier in danger while endangering myself, and the Silver Shield of Roland, for merit in battle resulting in protection of my unit.”

“While endangering yourself?” Maddalyn asked with a worried twinge in her voice.
>>
“I am fine now,” you reassured her, “I was burned badly, but I have healed since then.”

“Your heroism inspires me, my knight,” Maddalyn hugged you, but she didn’t sound very happy, “But don’t be so heroic that you make me a widow…”

“I am here, Maddalyn,” you rubbed her shoulder, “Don’t be so fearful that I might fall dead when I’m right here.”

“Mmnnn.” Maddalyn made a squeaky hum of discontent.

“What has my beautiful, clever wife been up to?” You asked of your red haired maiden, “You’ve hardly shared a word of it, but now that I am here in person, you can say, can’t you?”

“…” Maddalyn tightened up on herself, clasping her hands now in her lap. “I’d rather…not speak of that right now. Later. I’d rather talk of more happy news…”

“Then, any happy news from yourself?” you asked.

“Well, ah,” Maddalyn knitted and turned her fingers about, “My projects have been turning out well. I’ve been studying and working to have them continue along, rather than trying to figure out how they’d even be done. So that’s very good for us. Also, my wedding dress has been finished and fitted…I think you’ll like it, but it’s a secret until our day.” She smiled warmly up at you, “Our wedding has a few surprises that I was able to have father arrange, too. Now that you’ve returned…I have very little to worry about.” She cocked her head to her shoulder, “Was there any place you wanted to go after the wedding?”

“For the honeymoon?” You admittedly hadn’t expected Maddalyn the be the one to bring it up, “If you have time for it…”

“I will make time for it,” Maddalyn put her palm to your chest, “Even though I am very busy now,” she let her hand fall slightly, “Even though, I might have to leave you to your own devices here often, over these next weeks…”
>>
“Well,” you’d rather not have had that last caveat, but perhaps you could find a way to get more of her to you. Or at least convince her to let you in just a little, since she was still determined to not talk more about what she was doing in that laboratory… “I’ve thought of some locations. Places I’ve heard of, but not been to.” Thoughts of beaches, in the late spring, when it was warmer…and the new fashion that might be brought there. Or, perhaps, a place more adventurous..?

>Stories of the luxury of Paelli had touched your ears often enough. Perhaps a new Silver Lance might vacation to where they had used to be?
>East Valsten was close, friendly to Strossvald, and of a more southerly clime. It would be an ideal place to spend some intimate time.
>Perhaps it would spark Maddalyn’s interests and yours too to go on an adventure in the mountains to the north, where the Mountainfolk and Spirits abounded. Much in the way of mystery and unfamiliarity, but certain to be unlike any other place the two of you might go…
>Other? (Any place would be acceptable- perhaps even a tour of several, depending on how close they are to each other. Venturing to a hostile or diplomatically controversial nation may not be too wise…unless insisted upon, of course.)
>>
>>5239647
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.

Paelli is interesting but way too far, and I assume we can't travel through the Grossreich even as civilians, whilst East Valsten sounds like the safe but boring option.

>Other? (Any place would be acceptable- perhaps even a tour of several, depending on how close they are to each other. Venturing to a hostile or diplomatically controversial nation may not be too wise…unless insisted upon, of course.)

How about Emre? It's a part of the world we haven't really explored yet whilst being a major political and cultural power, and Maddy can speak the language.
>>
>>5239641
>Offer to help wash her. Refuse to be dissuaded.
Stand firm gentlemen. Richter is allowed to be insistent, every once in a while.

>>5239647
>Stories of the luxury of Paelli had touched your ears often enough. Perhaps a new Silver Lance might vacation to where they had used to be?
This seems like it would be a good time!
>>
>>5239647
>>Perhaps it would spark Maddalyn’s interests and yours too to go on an adventure in the mountains to the north, where the Mountainfolk and Spirits abounded. Much in the way of mystery and unfamiliarity, but certain to be unlike any other place the two of you might go…
Naukland might even be pretty cool to visit. After were done in the mountains.

>Offer to help wash her. Refuse to be dissuaded.

Valsten sounds like a terrible idea with its proximity to the southern Sosaldt cities and people probably bitter with our role in the creation of the Vang Republic.
>>
>>5239647
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
Let her have her privacy.
>Stories of the luxury of Paelli had touched your ears often enough. Perhaps a new Silver Lance might vacation to where they had used to be?
I assume going to that hot springs we were at in East Valsten way back is ill-advised. Might as well flesh out the West a bit.
Maybe we'll even meet our wolf tamer friend if the Imperials decide to pull out too
>>
>>5239641
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
There are reasons for this, "it" may well have something to do with a letter we sent her at some point previously.

>East Valsten was close, friendly to Strossvald, and of a more southerly clime. It would be an ideal place to spend some intimate time.
>>
>>5239644
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
Down boy.

>Other? (Any place would be acceptable- perhaps even a tour of several, depending on how close they are to each other. Venturing to a hostile or diplomatically controversial nation may not be too wise…unless insisted upon, of course.)
>>5239649
Emre does sound interesting, though maybe it would be best to not stray too close to any bookstores lest any stories of the Kommandant make themselves know to our wife.
>>
>>5239647
>Stories of the luxury of Paelli had touched your ears often enough. Perhaps a new Silver Lance might vacation to where they had used to be?

Though we should be sure that neither of us get that seasick before deciding for sure, given that the journey would probably involve going by boat.
>>
>>5239641
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.

>Other
Emre and/or Naukland, we'll have seen quite a bit of both East and West especially if Vitelia sidestory is a go after this, so why not explore the North?
>>
>>5239647
>>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
>>Stories of the luxury of Paelli had touched your ears often enough. Perhaps a new Silver Lance might vacation to where they had used to be?
>>
>>5239641
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
What Maddy needs more than anything for a healthy relationship is to trust us and fel safe. Not rushing things is important in establishing that.

>>5239647
>Stories of the luxury of Paelli had touched your ears often enough. Perhaps a new Silver Lance might vacation to where they had used to be?
>>
>>5239647
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
>Perhaps it would spark Maddalyn’s interests and yours too to go on an adventure in the mountains to the north, where the Mountainfolk and Spirits abounded. Much in the way of mystery and unfamiliarity, but certain to be unlike any other place the two of you might go…
*banjo sounds*
>>
>>5239647
>Leave her alone. She didn’t want you there, best not to be aggravating yet.
>Perhaps it would spark Maddalyn’s interests and yours too to go on an adventure in the mountains to the north, where the Mountainfolk and Spirits abounded. Much in the way of mystery and unfamiliarity, but certain to be unlike any other place the two of you might go…
An idea for the anons here. What if we standardize the tank guns with the at guns. Both shells need to be compatible.
>>
>>5239649
>>5239716
>>5239719
>>5239721
>>5239732
>>5239816
>>5240004
Leave her be. You're not dirty, after al.

>>5239653
>>5239708
You must provide aid. After all, one of you has to do the seeing around here.

>>5239649
>>5239721
>>5239732
Emre, and the north.

>>5239708
>>5240041
>>5240055
The mountains mysterious!

>>5239719
The south of the continent, the cradle of trade.

>>5239653
>>5239716
>>5239725
>>5239816
>>5240004
Going about as far west as you can go- quite a trip.

Writing. Well, more like, maybe completing the update tonight, maybe not.
>>
>>5240055
They are compatible though, our 4.7cm gun is literally an infantry AT gun that they managed to shoehorn onto the M/32 hull.
>>
>>5240085
Yes, but the rest has 50mm and those are not compatible.
>>
>>5240123
The 50mm tanks were only enough for platoon and company commanders, the standard gun used by most of the Lances was still the 37mm (which is definitely under-gunned at this point)

Also unlike in the Lances the M32/B here is the standard tank for the territorial forces, so the Von Blums might not even be using the 50mm gun at the moment in favour of all the 47mm guns they have
>>
>>5240123
Von Blum's armoury doesn't produce the 50mm variant, just the 47mm, which is already compatible with the infantry's standard 47mm AT gun (because it is that gun).
Standard m/32s come with a 37mm and only command variants are upgraded to a purpose built 50mm tank gun. There is no 50mm infantry AT gun in the equation, as I understand things.
>>
>>5240126
>>5240129
Well shit the Von Blums already fixed that issue then.
>>
>>5240141
Imho even the 47mm is underpowered right now, considering all the heavies we've fought against. We need a bigger gun, maybe 80 or 85mm at least.
>>
>>5240339
We could potentially see if they have some method of squeeze bore / adapter system or something, which would improve APCR somewhat and "fits" the time period, though it needs special (quite expensive, and purpose designed) ammo and for non APCR ammo would lose some performance if they could still be safely used.

The next main step up would be fin stabilization for HEAT shells or APDS.

The way to beat heavies would be to use Squash head (HESH / HEP) ammo since at this point they are very unlikely to have sufficiently thick spall liners since the plastics (UHMWPE) "probably" don't exist yet and won't for a while.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squeeze_bore
>>
I cant wait for this quest to turn into Arms Trade Tycoon.

https://store.steampowered.com/app/1662210/Arms_Trade_Tycoon_Tanks/
>>
>What did you want to do for our wedding?” you asked groggily. With that latched onto, there was an anchor for the detritus to flow towards, a beach for it all to come washing up once more, to drag itself out of the mire.

>“…Oh.” Maddalyn leaned back and thought, a finger brought slowly to her chin. “…I don’t want there to be many people. I am a Von Blum, but…I don’t want things to be a spectacle. I want it to be quiet, close, not some fair where all the people attend but only out of obligation. And afterwards, I think I want to take a holiday to…someplace warm. I liked Valsten, when I visited long ago, but I suppose that’s not really an option these days…Maybe Vynmark. I’ve heard that has a nice climate.”
Bros...
We fricked up...
>>
>>5240458
Is Paelli not warm? I got the impression from the talk about beaches that it was a warm place
>>
>>5240464
Sure, but still feel bad about not remembering her suggestions when the time came, even if we picked a passable alternative.
>>
In regards to things to add/standardize with the Von Blum M/32s besides shoving bigger guns or ghosts in it, here is a reminder of what everyone's favorite big tidded mechanic had to say about the matter.
>"Y’know what thirty twos use? Bootleg-ass HaMo Teakettles. The engine’s been around long enough that everybody who don’t got their head up their ass knows they have trouble running hot, but Handelwagen’s too stuck in for enough people to give a damn. Even worse, it’s a simple fix. Bad materials breaking down, too fragile as is, they get worse in heat, before you know it the coolant’s leaking, not getting where it needs, bam, HaMo shitbox’s kaput. Design’s fine, hell, it’s certainly got power, but if Strossvald cared about getting a proper cranker in those Naukland boxes, they’d license HonMo from Valsten. South states might be cut off, but that don’t mean they can’t buy off the global instead of keeping Handelwagen in the money for a shit job.”
>>
“Do you know of Paelli?” you asked Maddalyn.

“West of Vitelia, a great peninsula, at the very edge of the Iceforth Maelstrom,” Maddalyn recounted from memory readily, “The gate to the far west, to Zhantao.” Though she blinked with puzzlement. That’s…exotic. Why there?”

“It was the place the Silver Lances were commissioned by, a couple of years ago,” you told, “I spoke to men of that unit who told me of the place. They talked mostly about the wars, but the crew seemed to agree that the place was beautiful, luxuriant, and lush. They practically called it a perfect holiday destination. With the edge of the world next to it, the whole place has a sort of magic to it. The beaches are like no other. Have you ever seen the ocean? Sailed on a ship?”

“Yes,” Maddalyn nodded her head, “Though…I can’t swim.”

“I haven’t seen it,” you admitted, “But it’s not like you need to swim at a beach. The weather’ll be nice and sunny soon enough.” Besides. No reason the both of you couldn’t learn…you certainly were curious of what it was like to go on a seaborne ship, since that was presumably the way to go, what with a direct air route passing over the Vitelian Civil War…

“It sounds like it could be fun…” Maddalyn wasn’t sure, but she was warming to the idea, “So close to the Grand Maelstrom…I’ve been curiouser and curiouser every since I began learning of the Presence.”

The Grand Maelstroms were mysterious phenomena. Calling them “storms” was somewhat a misnomer- only an assumption based on the ruin they left behind. Nobody has ever ventured into them and returned, ever- and those that ventured close never described disturbances so violent as whatever hurricane rent the land apart unseen.

“It wasn’t the only place I thought of,” you said, “But I want to take you on an adventure. The first of many. I certainly can’t let you keep cooped up in your room, withering away.”

“Hee,” Maddalyn laughed ever so slightly, “I’m already looking forward to it. I might not be of help in war, but…if you find yourself exploring, then I can certainly stay at your side.” She got up, “I should bathe so my hair has time to dry. You aren’t going to chase me into the baths,” she hung on that a moment, “Are you?”

“Of course not,” you said resolutely, “My lady has said to stay out. I will.”
>>
“Good,” Maddalyn put a hand on her hip, “I will return here, fully dressed and ready for us to attend this evening’s event, small as it may be. Put on your uniform, if you have it. Bastian will expect it, at least. Though Mathilda…” she looked off, “We can keep our distance.”

“Away with you, dirty girl,” you said, poking a finger into Maddalyn’s bottom and eliciting a click of the tongue and a swat from her.

“Don’t look too curiously about,” Maddalyn scolded, “If you remain here. There are some things best not toyed about with carelessly.”

“Like what?” you asked, but Maddalyn was already walking out, trusting you not to do anything stupid with whatever unknown object may be lying around. You certainly weren’t thinking about it…but did wonder if any of it had anything to do with what Maddalyn was keeping close to her chest. Not that you could read a whit of the faded script anyways, or even begin to guess what the tomes might have as a primary subject, if anything.

The time alone let you think instead about what to bring up next- though much of what came to mind was heavy. Not just Mathilda’s queries- those could wait. Rather, the matter of the recent activity of soulbinders, including in places that by no rights should have attracted them. What the demiphantom was offering, was doing, what it let you see and speak to. Was it even a wise idea to share that with Maddalyn? Speaking of, Poltergeist had to come and get his prize, now, but then…he had been vague about when he would even do that. More likely than not, he would find you exactly when he felt like it.

The more you considered it, though, the more you had to sort through what could wait and what was reasonable to be immediately concerned about. More mundane subjects floated up- like what to know of Maddalyn’s siblings. She might not have been the most intimate with them, but they were considered family nevertheless, and for lack of anything else she’d be well aware of their political weights and interests.

It took longer than expected for Maddalyn to come back, but then, you had no idea of how long it took to go down the list of what a proper noble woman had to have done in order to show a proper appearance- your mother certainly wasn’t one who hurried, either, though the thought did come up- how much help did Maddalyn have? She couldn’t actually see into a mirror, after all…

“I recognize that dress,” you said appreciatively as she walked in, “You have an eyepatch, again..?”

“Er, yes,” Maddalyn glanced sideways, “It’s still necessary.” It helped tell her apart from her sister anyways, though you could have sworn that naught seemed wrong with her other eye when she had it open. Besides the same white dress that she had worn in the picture she sent you, she wore long blue gloves and a short sleeved cardigan of the same color, her hair tied behind her in a ponytail. “How much time do we have?”
>>
You checked your pocket watch. “A bit more. I’d like you to tell me about your siblings, your relatives. The Heir is here, isn’t he? Tell me about your eldest half-brother.” You might have asked about her other half-brother, but…you literally knew what it was like to walk in his shoes, from that one unpleasant experience of ever so convincingly believing you were him- but you couldn’t recall what you knew beyond what you saw.

“Bastian?” Maddalyn put a finger to her chin, “What about him?”

“Tell me about him, in general.”

“He’s pleasant natured,” Maddalyn said, “He’s not my friend, but he treats me well enough. If it weren’t for what happened to him, though, we wouldn’t have even met.” She referred to, of course, the accusation of having assassinated the former Crown Prince of Strossvald, Brandton. “He’s very trusting. Perhaps too much so. He walks in high places and assumes the best, even now. Father worries that people may take advantage of him, with how important he is. He’s no fool, but he’s inclined to be convinced to help, even if it ought to be beyond his ability or beneath his notice,” She glanced back at you with a half-lidded, cunning eye, and said in a low purr, “Which has been useful, I admit. He and Manfred are supporters of my latest research, for example.”

“How involved are they in that?” you asked.

“Not at all,” Maddalyn said with the same coolness in her tone, “They aren’t involved, they’ve but enabled it. Anyways. Bastian does have a wife and two children, and they might be at this dinner, but they might also have delayed their arrival to the court to take place, as well.”

“How old are his children?” you asked, “How old is he, for that matter?”

“Bastian is thirty seven,” Maddalyn said, “His wife, Risa Von Blum-Weisswaldstein, is thirty five. His son and daughter are eight and six.”

“I’ve not heard of that house.”

“You wouldn’t have. Weisswaldstein is a minor house within the Blumlands. They are as Von Tracht are to Von Strossvald, as it were,” Maddalyn said.

“If I did not know better I would say your family has a taste for Ritter.”

“Well. I do, at least,” Maddalyn nuzzled your cheek and gave you a kiss. That was countered with your own, but Maddalyn lightly pushed your chest with a finger as you met her lips. “Don’t spoil my makeup yet,” she scolded gently.

“How do you apply it?” you couldn’t help but ask, “Does a servant help you?”

“I do it myself,” Maddalyn claimed boldly.

“How?”
>>
“Shh,” Maddalyn put a finger to your lips, “After dinner, I’ll be going to…check on things. If you want to do anything before then, we can, but once I go I won’t be back until…very early next morning, though.”

“Unless I come with you.”

Maddalyn frowned, “…I’m sorry, Richter, it’s not…something you should see. Working with certain matters, the level of control over the environment, your presence has been muddled with by Soulbinders, you’ve had a mark upon you that’s…” She stared, felt at you, then stared further, “Still around. I just can’t say that it’d be safe for you.” Was that really the case, though..? There was some doubt…but in the moment, that darling blue gaze glowed with concern in excess of what was needed to silence raising an objection. Quite yet. Though later…

>Insist on accompanying her. It was impossible that you couldn’t go and even look.
>Wait for her to leave- then follow her. It might be untoward to sneak about things claimed to not be your business, but how else were you going to find out?
>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?
>Other?

The two of you went down to the dining hall- not the grand one, but a more modest, reserved alternative for more casual meetings. Where the tables and chairs were fine, but not ostentatious, and the spacing of seating far more reasonable for the attendance. Which were Lord Von Blum, Bastian Von Blum, and Mathilda (whose fashion was the same as earlier today, though the shawl was off of her shoulders), and yourselves.

The heir had apparently gone ahead of his family- he looked like a younger version of his father, and he had some of Maddalyn’s familial features despite being of a different mother. The blue eyes, the shape of the nose, the red hair, long enough to be tied back. He was of course not as diminutive, though still shorter than you. A monocle with a gold chain adorned his right eye, hinting at poor eyesight. He was dressed in a humble black waistcoat and trousers, with blue sleeves with white piping, his overcoat shed elsewhere.

“Sir Von Tracht,” Bastian reached out a friendly hand and you took it, “I have seen you before, but I do not believe we were properly introduced, as men ought to be. I am Bastian.” He didn’t break out the other names or titles, you noted. “Your father did me a favor I cannot be grateful enough for.”

“I am grateful, myself,” you said, squeezing Maddalyn to you, “Your wife and children are not here?”

“Ah. You must have asked after me,” Bastian adjusted his monocle’s chain, “No, they will be here for court. I came here for business and matters of industry, and the city in which I normally reside with my family is having a festival which my little Barn and Clarice couldn’t miss.”
>>
Barn and Clarice? So he named his children after his parents…It made you wonder what you’d name yours, though you weren’t sure if you’d go that same route or not.

“A local holiday, from the northern regions,” Bastian continued eagerly, “The First Cold Rain. Much stomping in puddles for the children. Crackling bonfires to contest whatever may fall, if it’s still a cloudy day. Bright lights shining all night, and the part any parents dislike, no bed time. Warmth to push the winter into flight so that it doesn’t come back, and all of that.”

“So you don’t like the rain, then,” you surmised.

“Ha. No, I don’t, but I’m only needed a few days. The festival goes for a week.” Curious that it wasn’t celebrated here, you thought, but maybe it was because a different sort of population was up north.

“If we may save the talk for when we are seated,” Lord Von Blum interrupted from across the room, “And, Maddalyn, Mathilda, if you would have the courtesy to not beat each other bloody tonight…”

“Yes, father,” Mathilda said with a turn of her back. You clasped a hand over Maddalyn protectively, and she said nothing herself.

“You fight like that?” you whispered in her ear.

“Hmmph.”

The courses came out in small portions, on silver trays. Despite the small occasion, there was a diversity in dishes that exceeded expectations. Three sorts of fish on rice in differing sauces of wine and citrus, roasted sweet sliced shoot and roots laden with warming blends of spices, tomato cream soup with buttered pastry baked over top the cups they came in, and more on the way. A question to a servant revealed that there would be Peppered Tongue Stew and Roasted Quail with honeyed nuts and berries. The term “peppered” made you politely refuse. Dessert would be buttercream tart menagerie- a term for a particular assortment of different flavored-cream topped miniature pastries. A dish of olive oil and toasted strips of bread were provided and refreshed on request, and you noticed that these seemed to be favored above anything else by Bastian.

>Discuss anything over dinner? Ideally politely- unless you’re of a mind to make a scene, for some reason.
>Let it pass by. This formality wasn’t exactly attended for raising questions.
>>
>>5240523
>Other?
>Let her go, since there is a potential for worry, but don't hesitate to ask about the details now that she can give them freely.
Richter doesn't need to SEE it right away. But I wanna know exactly what's going on.

>Discuss anything over dinner? Ideally politely- unless you’re of a mind to make a scene, for some reason.
Ask Bastian what he's been up to recently, what courts are like from his perspective since we're inexperienced with them, his work life balance, and about his kids and wife in general. How him and his wife got together, what the wife is like, what his kids are like, etc.

Ask Mathilda what she's been up to, too, as well as fun things to do around since she seems socially inclined and would probably know the fun spots.
Just because her and Maddalyn have a blood feud doesn't mean we can't make a token effort to be nice.

And of course, we outta have Richter talk about ourselves. The occasional fun War story makes great dinner conversation. Like the story of how we saved our darling bride, or that time Richter saved a dude from a burning tank, or our several meetings with a head of state, etc.
>>
>>5240525
>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?
>Discuss anything over dinner? Ideally politely- unless you’re of a mind to make a scene, for some reason.
Mention the shares Richter holds in Wossehn's oil drilling operation, seek business advice from wealthier men.
>>
>>5240525
>>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?
>>
>>5240525
>>5240573
>>5240576
Unf, that's a good one too.
Gotta wonder how that's going, if at all.
>>
>>5240525
>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?
We are marked so fuck no.

>Discuss anything over dinner? Ideally politely- unless you’re of a mind to make a scene, for some reason.
Ask about the current problems in the duchy and how we can help fix them.
Ask what for kind of brigade we will command or will it purely be an advisory/ staff role?
>>
>>5240523
>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?

>Discuss anything over dinner? Ideally politely- unless you’re of a mind to make a scene, for some reason.

Supporting >>5240576 , Richter isn't a businessman at all so he'd might as well get advice from people who are. Ask about his own businesses as well.

I assume there'll be some polite talk about the recent campaign during the dinner? Since we're at a veritable feast right now, the story of how just a few weeks back we and our company were forced to forage to get any food at all might be amusing.
>>
>>5240611
Also I'm curious about Bastian's fief, are the people up north very different culturally from those here in the capital?
>>
>>5240523
>>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?
I'm fine with leaving her to her projects, but in return I'd like to insist that she tell us about the things Mathilda told us to ask about when we have the opportunity. It sounds like there's some serious family drama brewing here, and as a new part of the family I'd prefer we have full knowledge of the situation as soon as possible rather than wandering blindly into it.
>>
>>5240525
>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?
>>
>>5240480
Nice find, anon

>>5240523
>Let it lay. Your wife could trust you with your war, could you not with her research, until she had something she felt she could show you directly?

>>5240525
>Let it pass by. This formality wasn’t exactly attended for raising questions.
>>
>>5240576
>>5240580
>>5240597
>>5240611
>>5240976
>>5241197
She has her business. Leave her to it.

>>5240573
But can you not tell me some of it?

>>5240830
Some things have to be known- secrets should not turn into ambushes.

>>5240573
Talk about yourself, your meetings. Ask the heir about himself and the court.

Play with fire and dare to speak to your fiancée's sister.

>>5240576
Ask about internal politics, your future post.

>>5240597
>>5240760
The business, as it were. And being hungry.
And the subject of differing peoples.

Writing.
>>
“You were speaking of your fief holding northern holidays unlike the people here,” you noted across the table to Bastian as you were dissecting a neatly cut piece of white fish splayed out like a flower- some sort of specially farmed trout, fed a diet to enhance their flavor. “Where is your land? The people there sound somewhat different to those from, say, the Capital.

“Ah, right, you are from the Capital regions. Aye, there is more of the old kingdoms the further you venture from Strosstadt,” Bastian said as he let olive oil drip from a piece of squared bread, distracted from dining, “Blumsburgh is already quite a bit north compared to most of the territory, but my personal county, the city of Erichssicht, is quite close to Delsau. Many there are Emrean speakers, and inherit some practices of the north, though the First Cold Rain is not a festival that is Emrean, per se. Rather, that celebration is descended from the same roots. Compare that to Blumsburgh, where many of the peoples are Demimperi. A people made distinct by being between the rest of Sosalia and the Reich, while of neither. There is a need to distinguish ourselves beyond those to the north and southern reaches of our territory, rather than the Emrean influence of the north or the Valsteners to the south.”

Or whatever variety of mountainfolk might inhabit the Imperial Gate, you supposed. “Interesting,” you toyed with the bed of herbed rice. Words had a way of getting in the way of even good food. Letting Bastian talk more would give you space to actually eat while also sating a hunger of curiosity. “Tell me about your spouse, your children. One Risa Von Weisswaldstein, I believe? Maddalyn told me her name. Is she local to your region?”

“She is not,” Bastian replied, “Erichssicht was my lord Father’s before mine, and his own before that. Von Weisswaldstein comes from where the rivers meet, further south.”

Barnabas spoke next as Bastian bit into a dripping hunk of bread. “Von Weisswaldstein have been loyal servants of Von Blum’s hosts since before Alexander. When I ascended to my place as head of the family, after my elder brothers, one perishing in war and the other abandoning his duties, Von Weisswaldstein found themselves without a connection to the duchy. A marriage was arranged to reestablish the bonds of our houses.”

“That is the way of it,” Bastian followed on, “The Von Weisswaldsteins are a disciplined sort. Risa shows her blood. A stout hearted woman. Hard edged, but caring of our little ones. Much like my dear mother was…”

“The late Von Eislichtfeld,” you started another prompt, “Do your son and daughter take after their namesakes yet?”

“They do not,” Barnabas said dourly.

“Not for lack of trying, father,” Bastian said back with a patient smile, “Mathilda gets along with them well enough, don’t you, sister?”
>>
“Hm.” Mathilda gave the barest acknowledgement. She was half Bastian’s age, practically the next generation herself. It was possible that the heir’s children might see her more as an elder sister, perhaps?

“She won’t admit it, of course,” Bastian finished for her. “Her acquaintances might take her less seriously than she wants them to.”

“What about you, Maddalyn?” you asked your fiancée, who stopped eating and swallowed smally.

“I am not well acquainted with them. They have not traveled here often.”

“I see,” you said, “As much as I wish to say I’d like to meet them, I don’t think I’m very good with children,” you motioned to your mask, “I would probably frighten them, anyways.”

“Little Barn needs to learn to be brave,” Bastian dismissed your concern, “Especially if he wishes to be a soldier. You’d surely have many stories to tell him. That mask, though. Where did you get it? It appears to have been touched by the hand of a skilled craftsman, despite its austerity. Surely fitted for your face, as well.”

“It was a gift from King Wladysaw XI of Ellowie,” you said, “I suppose you could say we are well acquainted. I’ve met and spoken with him several times.”

That caught attention from all round the table.

“You have more friends in high places than assumed,” Lord Von Blum said, with something approaching impressment.

“My retinue saved him from an assassination attempt,” you explained, “I had an advantage in getting into his good graces. I also know the new Minister of the People of Mittelsosalia, as well.”

“Yes, the daughter of that troublemaker, Sigmund Vang,” Lord Von Blum said with disdain, “It is improper to see a boon in tragedy, but that his group has dispersed from a lack of continuity has admittedly been one less annoyance since the Dawnseeker rabble were dispensed with.”

“They did fight the Dawnseekers, though,” you said.

“They would readily turn upon us next, if they sensed an advantage. I understand your sympathies, Von Tracht, but they represented a risk against this territory. By all measures, it is better that they excused themselves from the region’s politics.”
>>
“Speaking of,” you said as you finished the first course, “Is there anything I can do to help here? Are there problems I can help take care of? Presumably as part of my official command?”

“To be frank, Von Tracht,” Barnabas said, “Those are not subjects to have over dinner, but for an official briefing. The time will come, and there will be proper material to review. I did not call my daughters here to have a military council.”

“Very well,” you relented, “But what command am I expected to take? I would like to know if I am to command a unit, or if I am to be an advisor, or member of staff…”

“Your experience and talents will not be put to waste,” Von Blum said, “Your unit is still being formed. Once it is, you will be expected to put it through its paces in training and exercise. War is changing, and even territorial armies must adapt. The conceit is to establish an experimental independent demi-battalion, akin to a smaller version of the unit you served in. Again, the details will arrive to you later, but it is a project that requires a younger, ambitious officer. So Harlopf says.”

“I appreciate that I was considered for this role,” you said, “And granted it.” Inside though, your excitement was growing. An experimental unit? Under your command, with support of the industries? The possibilities stretched out of sight… “I know this is no military council, and not a meeting of investment and industry businesses either, but I wished to share a recent acquisition. Another acquaintance of mine, Wossehn of Mittelsosalia…have you heard of him?”

“It would be difficult not to,” Mathilda interjected, “The self-styled lord of the wastes. Wealthy enough to buy an army.”

“He has been investing in Mittelsosalia’s future,” you said, “Including its mineral wealth. He offered to me, as a token of friendship, rights to the majority share of an oil drilling company, ready to exploit wells newly discovered, and able to be better exploited with the peace of the region. I wanted to ask for advice with this, considering your own managements of businesses.”

“That is fantastic news,” Bastian exclaimed, “Father, we have been looking for a private oil supplier as of recent, and one has fallen into our laps.”

“When will this company be producing,” Lord Von Blum was rightfully more skeptical, “Do you know?”

“I do not,” you said with a shake of your head, and an eye down to the next course as it came, “It was described to me as a slight risk, after all.”

“There is much in between here and Sosaldt as well,” Von Blum added, “Do not place all of your plans in the most convenient basket, Bastian.”
>>
“Of course, father,” Bastian looked down, more humbly, “Though, yes, Von Tracht, I would be willing to provide my insights. Granted, though my investments are owned in name by myself, the work of keeping them profitable is done by well-compensated experts. I can place them in touch with you, or whomever your company contacts are.”

Some time was allowed for you to destroy your vegetables, next. “You know,” you commented after they had vanished, “It’s funny to me to be given such an array of food on my return so soon. There was a time in the field, when we were first breaking into Netilland, that the Silver Lances were outrunning the ability to be supplied. We went for days without foot, and had to forage for it where we could. I wouldn’t have expected to go hunting for wild game as part of military duties.”

“It is not all fighting, or so I hear,” Bastian said, “Isn’t it? I am curious, Von Tracht. Somebody with your history must have awards for what you’ve done.”

“I’ve been recently awarded a couple, yes,” you let yourself swell with some pride, “My tank crewmen and I, and my retinue, have been awarded the Silver Shield of Roland. I would want my crewmen here to properly retell that tale.” Though present company probably would not want Anya at the table. Maddalyn got along with your crew- not the tomboy. “I also have received a White Ribbon of Grace. One of my fellow officers in my platoon in the Silver Lances was Oskar Von Halm. His tank was struck by enemy fire, and the ferocity of it turned his vehicle over and set it aflame. My crew and I helped to evacuate himself and part of his crew, as they had been knocked unconscious.”

A silence about the table.

“Do you know who Oskar Van Halm is, Richter?” Maddalyn asked, “He is in line to be heir to the Halmlands.”

“He didn’t imply he was that important,” you said, “I only thought to save a comrade.” Though it made sense, in retrospect. The Silver Lances were no place for somebody to expect special treatment no matter where they came from.

Lord Von Blum cocked an eyebrow, and looked to his youngest daughter. “Mathilda, you are taking note of this?”

“…I am,” she said haltingly. The young lady was also unmarried- though Van Halm hadn’t exactly had much kind to say of her history. Though what was implied…sounded unlike what Maddalyn said was supposed to be proper amongst territorial nobility. “You know that I have arrangements in other courts, though.”

“Make time,” Von Blum demanded. “And have discretion, for goodness’s sake.”

“Yes, father,” Mathilda clicked her tongue in a small show of disapproval, though for what part of the comment exactly was unclear.
>>
“The Van Halms may not have declared it,” the Territorial Lord leaned back with something approaching satisfaction in his cheeks, “But they are in your debt. I would expect them to express it one way or another soon, Von Tracht.”

Well, they hadn’t yet, at least, but then, you’d been difficult to get in touch with as of late, and who knew how long it had taken for Van Halm to properly return home, or be seen by the rest of his family? The soup arrived, and you dug in greedily, allowing some other light conversation to take place without you dominating a part of it, but you did think of something else right as your roast quail and accoutrement came. You intended to show Maddalyn as much enjoyment as possible- but weren’t too familiar with the region’s entertainment. Despite Maddalyn and Mathilda’s animosity- Mathilda claimed to not feel any for you. Surely she could help you with your slight predicament, then?

“Mathilda,” you opened, and the younger sister glanced to you with a curious gaze. “I wanted to ask you about-“

A tug at your side. “Richter,” Maddalyn whispered icily, “What are you doing?”

“Calm down, dearest,” you whispered back in Maddalyn’s ear, “This is for you.” You straightened back up, “I wanted to ask you about any local entertainment venues. I’d like to show Maddalyn about some, if you know any spots for social fun.”

Mathilda half closed her eyes at you, looked to Maddalyn, and said nothing.

“…” Maddalyn grit her teeth beside you.

“…There is a club, called the Redrose, at the north side of the city on the other side of the river,” Mathilda said with a cool tone, “It is exclusive to nobility and the wealthy. The entrance fee for new guests bars most, but for night time excitement, it has no competition.”

Lord Von Blum snorted disapprovingly. “A noisy hall of cards, dice, drink, and dance. Licentiousness incarnate.”
>>
“Von Tracht asked for fun, not for a lecture, father,” Mathilda sent some unexpected backtalk her father’s way, “If clubs are not in your taste, then there are luxury car rentals and tour driving paths. Security has improved again to where they have opened their services- and I understand that you may not own an automobile locally. The renters are understanding of such. So long as you do not take their cars racing.”

None of it sounded like deception. Though, Lord Von Blum had sounded as though this Redrose Club was as seedy as some back alley Strosstadt red light district nightclub…

The quail was crispy, delicious, and you wanted to renege on desert just to keep it in your mouth longer, but seeing how Maddalyn laid into it (and how her sister seemed to forget everything to stuff herself on them, too), you wondered if you shouldn’t at least have a singular one.

“Von Tracht,” Bastian Von Blum himself had declined to be served the sweets, “I understand you may be busy this evening, but if you like, I will be visiting Kellberg’s development offices tonight. You’ve just been given permission to enter as I can, so if you are curious, then sooner is better than later, no?”

It was something to consider, though Maddalyn softly grabbed the sleeve of your shirt under the table, then moved to your leg, and stroked your thigh. She seemed to imply she wanted to linger a little…though she herself had to depart later too, did she not?


>Take Maddalyn out for the night someplace, before she had to go to her work. You wouldn’t be seeing her until next morning, after all, and she’d probably be resting through the day again… (Where to?)
>Tell Bastian Von Blum you’d be along later tonight- you’d be taking Maddalyn back up to her room. For unattended to “business.” If that was what she was signaling, at least.
>Accept Bastian’s offer right off- and let Maddalyn to whatever she had to get to. No need to tire her out before her work.
>Other?
>>
>>5241552
>Tell Bastian Von Blum you’d be along later tonight- you’d be taking Maddalyn back up to her room.
No need to tell them what for and why. Just say you wanna spend a little extra time with the wife to be before we go galavanting on our own again.
Also damn. Missed opportunity to talk about that giant fucker Richter hunted.
Maybe next time.
>>
>>5241552
>Accept Bastian’s offer right off- and let Maddalyn to whatever she had to get to. No need to tire her out before her work.
>>
>>5241552
>Tell Bastian Von Blum you’d be along later tonight- you’d be taking Maddalyn back up to her room. For unattended to “business.” If that was what she was signaling, at least.

Wife time, then tank tours.

Lord Von Blum getting more and more impressed at our social acquaintances is pretty good for Richter. And commanding the Von Blum version of the Lances sounds hype as hell.

Also interesting to see that Van Halm was that high up the succession, I would have thought any Territorial Lord wouldn't have allowed their heir to enter a unit such as the Lances given the real risk of getting killed.
Was Lieutenant Colonel Von Silbertau similar in regards to his place in the succession?

Though considering how little Oskar liked to talk about himself, there's probably a whole bunch of family drama there as well.
>>
>>5241552
>Tell Bastian Von Blum you’d be along later tonight- you’d be taking Maddalyn back up to her room. For unattended to “business.” If that was what she was signaling, at least.
>>
>>5241552
>Tell Bastian Von Blum you’d be along later tonight- you’d be taking Maddalyn back up to her room. For unattended to “business.” If that was what she was signaling, at least.
>>
>>5241552
>Tell Bastian Von Blum you’d be along later tonight- you’d be taking Maddalyn back up to her room. For unattended to “business.” If that was what she was signaling, at least.
>>
>>5241566
>>5241573
>>5241578
>>5241583
>>5241681
Take Maddy up to her room. As though you're just going to have a chat.

>>5241567
Head out with the men right away.

Writing.
>>
“I will go,” you answered Bastian, “I’m very interested in this work at Kellberg’s, but not right away,” You settled a hand on Maddalyn’s thigh under the table in reassurance, “I just want to spend some more time with Maddalyn before that. I’ve only just come back, after all.”

“Very well then,” Bastian rose, “I will be there ahead then. Simply ask to be conveyed, and I will have the workers instructed to bring you to where I am. I’ll see you there.”

A quick bidding of goodbyes to all others present, and you left with Maddalyn, her hand in yours.

“I’m glad you get along so well with Bastian,” she said to you as you went up the stairs, her more leading you than the other way around, “Though I hardly think you needed to ask my sister for her advice…”

“She wasn’t going to try and sabotage things,” you said, “I still haven’t taken you dancing. I think you’ll like it, there just needs to be a suitable venue for somebody as fair as you.”

“Hm,” Maddalyn hummed gloomily, “I suppose…we have some time to ourselves, then, if you’re going later…”

You both got to Maddalyn’s room, and you led her through- though she locked the door behind you.

“I have to get changed for my visit to the laboratory,” Maddalyn said, a hesitating clipped twinge in her voice, “This social dress is improper for it.”

“I suppose you want me to leave while you change.”
>>
Maddalyn said nothing, shifting her cardigan off, taking off her shoes, and then, with a slight pause, as though considering, she closed her eye, her cheeks flushed, and she loosened her dress and let it fall around her. She was in but her underwear, a white camisole with no straps clinging to her skin, and a different set of panties from earlier, of a daintier fabric. Both were laced- thin enough to be translucent in places.

“I…ah…” Maddalyn choked, her eye still shut tight, wrenched closed, “W-want…Don’t, don’t make me ask, Richter…”

You hadn’t quite been expecting her to be this…direct. “Ask for what?” you asked in some confusion.

“Just,” she said sharply, her face turning deeper scarlet, “I don’t…as far as you want to. As far as you want to go. I’ve left you for long enough, I know, I,” She stammered near incomprehensible, “I spent n-nights awake afraid you wouldn’t come back. I know you want…I don’t want to deny you. I’m sc-scared, but, when you were, I don’t want…just do something, start, before I l-lose my n…nerve…I want this. Whatever you end up doing.”

Yet you were given pause for thought. This was rather sudden…like this was something she felt she was obligated to do, to not place any limits on you. She was frightened…but would that ever not be the case?

>Accept this. There was nothing to be afraid of-but you’d have to take the lead on that. (Go all the way.)
>Reassure her. Insist that she had nothing to prove- that you just wanted to have some intimacy. (How far to go?)
>Back off. Say that you’ll help her get dressed for her work. This wasn’t what you’d intended.
>Other?
>>
>>5241816
>Back off. Say that you’ll help her get dressed for her work. This wasn’t what you’d intended.
>>
>>5241816
>Reassure her. Insist that she had nothing to prove- that you just wanted to have some intimacy. (Third base should be far enough. Focus on wrapping her around your finger.)
At this point we might as well wait to pluck her virginity from her till the wedding day.
Till then Richter outta work on making things as pleasant for her as possible. By the time the wedding comes she outta be so used to Richter's touch she'll be able to tell him firmly that she's ready.
>>
>>5241816
Supporting this >>5241835
Sorry Maddy, but tonight we'll be jumping in bed with your brother instead
>>
>>5241835
I'll support this instead
>>
>>5241835
+1
at least it seems like we *are* making progress
>>
>>5241816
>>5241835
+1
Actually how is premarital sex viewed by Judge worshippers?
>>
>>5241843
From getting to third base while she was drunk to getting to third base while she's sober.
Let's hope both of them are equally fun to fiddle around with.
>>
>>5241816
>Other
Talk to her. Ask why she's doing this. Assure her that we won't do anything she isn't really ready for, however lewd our letters might have been.
>>
>>5241816
>>Reassure her. Insist that she had nothing to prove- that you just wanted to have some intimacy. (How far to go?)
Hmm, it appears our letters may not have made our feelings clear enough. Try writing it out again for her, in a place she cannot so easily dismiss it.
>>
>>5241899
That would be write out with a tongue and saliva, in case there was any ambiguity.
>>
I return.

>>5241832
Put your clothes back on, nobody wants to see that.

>>5241835
>>5241838
>>5241840
>>5241843
>>5241846
>>5241853
>>5241899
Getting ahead of herself.

>>5241861
Try for some more words.

Writing.

>>5241846
>Actually how is premarital sex viewed by Judge worshippers?
It is a matter of whom might be being transgressed, as well as the region, considering the varying sects of Judgement that hold sway over wherever. To keep it short, Strossvald is generally more conservative about the matter than most, but the nobility prefer to have their fun. Generally, though, it is considered just barely acceptable...so long as it's with a person you intend to spend your life with, only sharing the sacred act of love with the one whom you've decided to bind your life to, albeit a youthful and irresponsible thing of passion. A forgivable sort of passion.
Casual sex on the other hand in Strossvald is publicly seen as unseemly and degenerate, but, since when has that stopped anybody from doing it? Prostitution is theoretically banned, but that does not prevent winks and nudges from reproducing it regardless with little interference.
Suffice it to say the Archduke is not considered a holy and just man whatsoever, but in the post-Alexandrian state of the scattering of moral arbiters, who can truly condemn him where another would allow it?
TL;DR what is considered moral and what is considered socially normal has somewhat a dissonance here.
>>
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“…Why, though?” you asked, “I don’t need to do anything you aren’t ready for, no matter how impassioned my letters might have been. I was far, and now you are here with me.”

“That’s not…” Maddalyn looked down, “Th-that’s not the point. I want you t-to be happy. I like it…I just don’t know how to…could you just…stop talking?” An edge of desperation, frustration, was coming in, “Richter, can’t you see this? Why must you think that it’s only about what I want? What if I want you to have what you…I’ve asked much of you, you’ve the right to ask more of me. Am I…am I not attractive? Why do you hesitate? You said I was irresistible, and I’ve only tried to be more so, now…”

…It was true. Her underclothing was different- you’d dare say, entirely unlike anything you’d seen on her before.

“Those are new..?” You pointed to her camisole.

“They are…my sister’s,” Maddalyn looked to another part of the floor, and bit her lip, “I thought that you would…Stop…stop talking. You’re being aggravating. I don’t want to be angry with you.”
>>
Despite your confusion at how she stumbled chaotically over her tone, her words, you did stop using your mouth for words- and put your hands on Maddalyn’s shoulders, your lips on hers, and pressed into her mouth, touched your tongue to hers and let her respond shyly, pulling her into you, before letting her go preemptively and pushing her gently down to her bed, on her back. She was under you, panting, as you slipped your fingers around her waist and divested her of half her undergarments, kneeling to get to the proper height. Despite Maddalyn being nearly nude, you hadn’t taken anything off yourself.

Maddalyn said nothing, no advice, but she gasped, crooned, and grabbed at your hair to tug you deeper into your kissing between her legs. Those legs which found themselves over your shoulders, then crossed behind your back, pushing on you as Maddalyn’s fingers ran through your hair.

“Why must you be…” Maddalyn said in a thin voice, her aggression in her embrace of you increasing, “So difficult…ahn…nnn…”

She muffled herself with a hand, as she convulsed, arched her back, and you felt her against you, twitching, melting, before every part of her relaxed and loosened whatever grip she commanded on you.

Back over her you loomed, and you pressed her into the bed beneath your body, planting a deep kiss on her neck, then biting her ear, but Maddalyn was not so receptive in her shallow breathing, a murky look in her eyes, a pout on her lips, as she lay her head sideways.

“I…missed that more than I thought…” Maddalyn said, her voice cracking between deepening breaths.

“What do you want to do next,” you whispered in her ear, “Do you want me to pick again?”

“…” Maddalyn pushed on you lightly, and you stood, letting her sit up. “I think I…actually have to get going,” she said with a frown, standing and picking her underwear back off the floor.

Concerned surprise raised your eyebrows. “Already?” That was hardly fair, by your measure. Had you performed poorly? You thought you did better than before…

Maddalyn noticed the tone of your voice, and stepped over to put her hands on your shoulders, “It’s not that, I’m completely satisfied…I just…don’t know if…never mind.” She let you go, “Will you help me put on my other clothes? They should be in the closet over there, the outfit hanging with a flower brooch.”

>Now hold on one moment- you weren’t done. No clothes were being put on, or you’d mess them up. (?)
>Fine. As long as she was alright. Though maybe you should brush your teeth before you head out yourself.
>Demand that she finish her thoughts, to explain. Did she have to be so evasive? You were ready to do her bidding, whatever it might be, after all…
>Other?
>>
>>5242905
>Fine. As long as she was alright. Though maybe you should brush your teeth before you head out yourself.
>>
>>5242905
>Fine. As long as she was alright. Though maybe you should brush your teeth before you head out yourself.
Fucking tease. She probably blueballed our poor boy.
>>
>>5242905
>Now hold on one moment- you weren’t done. No clothes were being put on, or you’d mess them up. (Thighjob time. Have her sit in Richter's lap, his cock between her legs while he nipples and whispers in her ear. Make her work to swivel on it.)
It's clear that she wants Richter to be happy and that she likes being with Richter, but she probably doesn't wanna force himself on HIM.
After all, Maddalyn doesn't think very kindly of herself. She might be seeing Richter's attempts to make her feel good selflessly as a way to placate her instead of a sign of deep affection. Like a wife giving her boring husband a blowjob instead of having passionate lewd times together.
So Richter needs to push having some passionate lewd times, or this is going nowhere.
>>
>>5242905
>Other?
A combination of options 2 and 3: By all means, help her get dressed if she is needed elsewhere, but keep on the pressure for an explanation of her strange behaviour.
Not to deflate the moment but regarding our brief detour as Wrath Leader and the planes available to us at the start of the perspective shift, did you ever complete sketches of the SAC-99 and K26E, like originally planned?
>>
>>5242905
Supporting
>>5242959
>>
>>5242959
You're probably right, but I don't know if continuing when she says that she's done is wise. It would probably work out in the short term, and perhaps longer in terms of her confidence, but it's not a good precedent to set to keep going when she says she's done.
>>
>>5242905
>Other?
Make like a tree and get out of here.
>>
>>5242991
Maddalyn doesn't wanna just leave Richter hanging though, that's the thing.
She thinks he's not really interested.
Not pushing forward after she put in the effort of presenting herself on a platter for Richter will hurt her far more than doing exactly what she's been asking of him to do this whole time.
>>
>>5242905
>>Now hold on one moment- you weren’t done. No clothes were being put on, or you’d mess them up. (?)
I see it how it is, she wants to do something for Richter, but we turned it around on and made it about her anyway. Well fine, it won't kill anyone to be selfish this once and make someone else work for our benefit. I half of the mind to go all out, the Von Tracht Family needs some security and I'm not going to let Richter honorably serve and scrape and sacrifice his family to a very honorable footnote in history. That being said if everyone wants to wait until the wedding night since we are so close anyway, I can support >>5242959 for now. Maybe even make a show of just lifting her up to do as we please with her, let her small stature work for her a bit.
>>
>>5242973
+1
>>
Rolled 2 (1d3)

>>5242910
>>5242937
Gee fine guess I'll hang out with your older brother instead.

>>5242959
>>5242975
>>5243114
Nothing left unfinished on your end.

>>5242973
>>5243142
Yes, but why, though?

>>5243001
Scurry on out like a goblin.

Deciding this feels a bit odd. On one hand, there's a majority on intent, but not on how to do it. I wouldn't say that 2 and 3 have commonality whatsoever beyond not touching her further, but they have a similarity at the end point.
So maybe this isn't the best move, but maybe I can put the "uncertainty" to work. The dice will decide. For the first, the second, or third in order of listing. Since four is sort of its own thing.
However it goes, writing.

>>5242973
>Not to deflate the moment but regarding our brief detour as Wrath Leader and the planes available to us at the start of the perspective shift, did you ever complete sketches of the SAC-99 and K26E, like originally planned?
The latter got pretty far along, the former didn't- and actually posting both got swept under the rug like so many things.
But I can add it back to my tasks for this thread at least.
>>
Your head swam, thoughts like moving through muck. Should you just do as you were told? Should you ask her to properly express her thoughts to you, rather than cutting herself off? Should you just run off, if you weren’t wanted? Unwittingly, you paced in a small circle, before looking at Maddalyn again, as her own eye wandered to a window, covered in velvet draping curtain, a weary and sad look cooling the once fresh redness in her cheeks.

Only one thing was certain- when you looked over you half nude fiancée, there was a certain hunger, that heated the blood when the way was uncertain.

“Ah!” Maddalyn cried out in surprise as you snatched out for her and picked her up, scooping her up and holding her under her legs and her back.

“Now just a minute,” you said as you shuffled off your trousers, “No clothes are being put on…I’d mess them up, the mood I’m in.”

You set yourself down on the bed, and kept Maddalyn on your lap- she could certainly feel your opinion on the matter, pushing against her behind. Wandering hands tried to tell what you wanted from her, as you squeezed her snow white thighs, pinching in between between thumb and finger as you found her ear again.

“Ah…you, er, mean…” Maddalyn trapped your hand between her thighs and rubbed them together in a weaving wiggle, grinding against you as she did, “…Right?”

So much for having to get going. You gave her an affirmative lick in the ear, and only lifted her back up again to free yourself from your shorts. A wave of tingling bliss washed over you as Maddalyn squeezed you between her thighs, adjusting herself with a slide up against you so that she had you as high as you could go- that you could feel the wet of arousal on you, as she got to work wordlessly, save for the twinge and high pitched sigh she let out every so often when you dug into her ear, and distracted herself from you.

“…I like this, you know,” Maddalyn said softly as she stroked over you, lifting one leg while keeping the other still, squeezing. “I can feel…how this must feel for you…I can feel sure about it.”

Of course you loved this. How could she not be sure? How many idle nights had you spent thinking about when you’d be able to feel this again? You gripped around her legs and lifted her up, letting your passions take over as you moved yourself back and forth.
>>
Maddalyn yelped as you picked her up and manhandled her. “B-be careful!” She protested, but your mind was in no place to think of potential accidents, given how close things were already. No more care was given to her ear- you could only be singleminded

Leaning back, letting hot, animalistic desire crush any restraint, you pushed yourself through Maddalyn’s thighs, forcing your way up and down, leaning back, clenching her legs together with your hands and moving her whole body back and forth, until…shocking, almost painful release, and a sputtering groan from your throat as you felt your entire being explode outwards. Energy fled you, but Maddalyn’s hips still swiveled, her thighs clenching and whirling in a soft and slow circle, wringing you of everything beyond what you thought was the climax.

“Mhmmmm…” Maddalyn leaned her head into your chest, “Did that feel good?” There was a new smugness in her voice as she said that, no actual question in that statement. With a final squeeze, she parted her legs and released you, letting you sit up, lift her, and set her aside, where she leaned back on her bed. A look to your fiancée beside you…her stomach and the camisole on her chest had been covered in an utter mess.

“I suppose your sister won’t want that back,” you panted.

Maddalyn smiled sweetly, deviously, for just a moment, before it faded away. “I missed you, Richter. I know I’ve said such already, but,” She lay all the way down, “It’s…something I can’t just say one way.”

“I missed you too, dearest,” you stroked a spring of red locks, “…Did you have to leave soon? I suppose that’s out the window. Though if you need help to,” you looked at the state of her torso, “…get cleaned again.”

“…I can be a little late,” Maddalyn said slowly, drawing her fingers across her stomach. “It’ll be alright.” You got up and made for the closet where Maddalyn said her outfit was. “Blegh.”

“Huh?” you turned around and looked at Maddalyn.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

In a way, you ended up bathing with Maddalyn anyways, as hot, wet towels sponged away at her. Even the upper garment was pulled away- but Maddalyn’s concerned eyes remained your focus, as she was laid completely bare- and you would tempt her to be ashamed.

Besides, your head was quite clear, now.

Finally, Maddalyn was dressed for work, hair brushed, and makeup reapplied whilst you were sorting yourself out.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Maddalyn said as she stood on her toes so you could bend down to kiss her goodbye, “Enjoy your time with my brother.”

She left you alone, outside her room, and as you watched her go…you wondered how many questions would go unanswered for how long.

-----
>>
A driver was waiting to take you along to the Kellberg Works development lab, which lay a bit outside of Blumsburgh, though not quite in the countryside, to the north. Security was tight, but there was no mistaking who you were, and passage proved easy.

The foyer of the development complex was no brutal, industrial space of concrete and steel- it was wood and velvet, bronze and paint, with the grand space in the center dominated by an Emrean-war era tank, itself prettied up and decorated, though it was no sculpture, and was most certainly a true war machine. The particular type escaped you, but the pride of putting it on a pedestal for posterity must have been significant. It was not an ugly machine, either, unlike most early tanks you could recall.

“The very first example of a tank to be assembled in the Blumlands,” Bastian’s voice came from beside you, and he held a glass of red wine in his hand, “An AdL-Zephyr, I believe, is what it is called. Though, considering this was made entirely locally after study of a model bought from the northerners, I suppose instead of the Atelier de Lunaire this should be Atelier de Blumsville shouldn’t it?”

“Bastian,” you stretched out a hand, and he took it, “Thank you again for inviting me here.”

“It is my pleasure,” Bastian swirled his wine in his glass, “And only reasonable, if you are expected to take our armored steeds into battle, and trust them. You’ve already done that plenty, I’ve heard. When I told Kellberg once, he was immensely curious of…how did he put it, the sort of dust that tank had managed to collect?”

To be true, it was mostly Sosaldtian dust, at this point, that pervasive redness that snuck its way wherever it could, even into a runny nose.

“Are you much of a wine man, Von Tracht?” Bastian asked, “The Court here draws quite a few oenophiles. The climate and soil of the south of these lands lends itself well to a certain kind of vine, a sort that also likes to grow in Vynmark. Not of a type to the tastes of northerners, but no man who likes wine will only cling to one sort.”

“Is that what that is?” you pointed to the wine.

“Ah, no. This is an Emrean Sauvignon, made from some luck of their wilderness. Those grapes do not grow outside of Emre, and in the Emrean war, their vinyards were devastated to the point that it was thought they may be lost…until they were found miraculously in the wilds again. So they call it the “Miraculous Reincarnation.” It is quite good, of course, too.”

That reminded you to ask about the courts in further detail- you wouldn’t be going into that particular battle unprepared if you could help it, even if your fiancée could apparently help you move through it unscathed.

“Now, there are a few things we could look at here,” Bastian led on, “Once we find you something to drink, of course. Request what you like.”

>?
>>
You wondered if tea and brandy would be acceptable…though also, if you should admit that you were more partial to beer than wine. Knocking yourself out with heavy liquor would not do here, either.

“That also applies to the complex itself,” Bastian added, “Is there something you might be interested in seeing first? There are the iterations, ideas for improving our current lot of equipment. That would include what you are most familiar with- and engineers willing to hear out your suggestions. Though, there is also the…secret project.”

“…What sort of secret project?” you asked warily.

“A new type of tank. Produced from smuggled plans from…well, I shan’t say right now. It is a powerful beast of a vehicle, though. Some would dare say, the future of armor. Tempting, no? Though it is only a model, right now. It has been far too soon to produce a proper prototype, given every piece that must be replicated, invented…Then there is also,” a less excited, more cautious tone here, “The Experimental Protection. That may not be to your preference, though. Not a word of what is there leaves this facility, and it itself is cordoned off…though you do have the distinction of being the sole, if perhaps unwitting, commander of the primary field testbed of the fruits of their labor, though their primary advisement’s absence has made the pace of new developments arduous, and frustrating.”

>Iterative Development. The practical, the realistic.
>Go see the “future of armor.” This secret project piqued the interest.
>You knew full well what you commanded- and wanted to see more, no matter how disturbing others might view it, in Experimental Protection.
>Other?
>>
>>5244035
>?
Tea. A clear head is kept for thinking.
>Other?
How we start up at the first suggestion and end up at the last?
>>
>>5244032
>?
Tea, or Tea and Brandy I suppose. Richter has had plenty of booze while out and about, some might even say too much, but Tea is a luxury what should be enjoyed while one can get it.

>>5244035
>Iterative Development. The practical, the realistic.
As much as I'd love to see the cool shit.
I feel like we really need to start with helping out with fixing the baseline tanks first and foremost.
After all, there's no point putting super amour on a tank if the engine gives out, something that very much happened to Richter in the past.
Do hope this is time to peak at the newer shit though.
>>
>>5244035
>Iterative Development. The practical, the realistic.

As for the secret project, wonder if we're just making a one to one copy of the Roland II or it's own derivative, though Richter is unlikely to get to use it anyway until the shit really hits the fan.

Btw tanq, speaking of equipment, is it possible to get a brief summary of the Von Blum Panzer Corps as it is? Details like how large is it, have all of them been managed to be equipped with m/32Bs, any other special variants of vehicles that they use etc.
>>
>>5244046
I would like that if we are able to visit all of these, but in the case of them being mutually exclusive:

>>5244035
>Iterative Development. The practical, the realistic.
We really do need to fix the engines on these things, and the gun/armor are starting to become outdated themselves if what we faced in Netilland is representative of what we will see regularly going forward. Though I really am tempted by that wonder tank, I hope we get to see / talk about it tonight.
>>
>>5244051
Also for the drink:
>Tea
>>
>>5244035
>Iterative Development. The practical, the realistic.

Also we know how our tank model fares up against Netillian gear, but how does it compare to what the Reich has in service now, considering they're just across the border?
>>
>>5244035
>Tea
>Everything in order
>>
>>5244032
Just tea, thank you
>>5244035
>Iterative Development. The practical, the realistic.
>>
>>5244032
>?
Whisky

>>5244035
>You knew full well what you commanded- and wanted to see more, no matter how disturbing others might view it, in Experimental Protection.
>>
>>5244046
>>5244047
>>5244053
>>5244062
>>5244085
You have been without tea too long to pass up more now that you have access to it again.

>>5244140
Going hard like you're touring with Fluffy.

>>5244046
>>5244062
All of it!

>>5244047
>>5244051
>>5244052
>>5244057
>>5244085
Iteration, Improvement, Reinvention.

>>5244140
Off Brand Wizard Bullshit.

Writing.
There's already plenty to do here but any brief asides that aren't too broad in scope can be put up for consideration. By too broad in scope I mean, stuff that I'd prefer to be found out about in a different and less direct way, or things that don't benefit too much from having a magnifying glass on them.

Hopefully the sloppy intimate scenes aren't entirely cringe. Only just enough.
>>
>>5244051
>>5244057
Also, I figure I'll answer the queries here in character in the actual update, since they're rather relevant to character interests and all.
>>
“I’d like to tour all of them, if there is time,” you said to Bastian Von Blum, “But, we can start with Iterative Development. Oh, and I’d like to have tea.”

“Tea?” Bastian asked, “Not much for wine, then?”

“I have been in Sosaldt and Netilland, lands with no respect nor supply of good tea,” you said flatly, “Now that it is at hand, I will drink nothing but tea if I have the choice to.”

“Your preference in tea, then.”

“Hot, in a cup, with sugar.”

Bastian waved a man over. “Tell your manager to have a man get Von Tracht a cup of Morgenhafen Brew, with sugar, and have it done quickly. We’ll be heading to Iterative Development. Don’t make the man wait.”

A stiff half bow- this man was no trained servant, but anybody of working class knew how to act, if imperfectly, when addressed by high nobility.

“Come then, Von Tracht,” Bastian pointed, “We hardly need a guide.”

“I did have questions, as we go,” you said, stepping slowly, “Considering that this place is for developing armor, I can’t say I have a broad familiarity with the Von Blum armored corps. What do you have, and how much of it is vehicles such as those made locally?”

“Harlopf would be a better person to ask,” Bastian said with a touch of embarrassment, “But, from what I keep myself informed on, the Blumlands have three armored regiments, pure panzer formations, themselves part of the Armored Division. One of the regiments is a reserve formation, which uses leftover, less modern equipment we have stockpiled that still has a use. LT-24s and m/24s and the like, as well as the m/28s we have been phasing out of the other two regiments. With the contribution of the capital’s reinforcing armor battalion last year and forces raised and procured since then, our primary two regiments are near eighty per cent m/32 type, with half of those being m/32B type. Again, if you speak with the unit commanders and advisors, they will have more exact figures for you.”

Three regiments was quite a powerful amount- not enough to break an enemy nation by itself, but more panzers than the Silver Lances had, about twice as many. Amongst territorial lords, they surely must have been strong- not that your recollection of the strength of other territories was more than foggy. It was to be expected to, considering their role as the first line of defense against an attack from the Reich, looming just over the mountains.
>>
“Are there armored vehicles besides these tanks?” you asked next. “Variants of equipment besides the m/32B, as far as vehicles go.”

“Well, no,” Bastian said, “Besides anti-aircraft cannon, a decision hasn’t been made on that sort of equipment procurement on a large scale. Our planners debate with innovators that we cannot have absolutely everything we would like to have. The Blumlands may be one of the Archduchy’s richest and most industrious lands, but we are not the Capital, nor are we, say, Naukland. Thought has been given to it, but for now, we have been saving our resources and funds. Though that is fit to…change soon.”

You both passed through a set of double-doors with a sign above stating that you were indeed going to Iterative Development- where existing equipment was tweaked, experimented with, modified.

“Considering the primary expected enemy is the Reich,” you said as you took a step over to look at a miniature model of 4.7 centimeter gun, about the size of a housecat, perched on a pedestal with a description of the piece, as well as what you recognized as a deactivated shell and shell casing stood next to the display. “How would you say what we have compares? I’ve fought many an enemy, many sorts of armor and artillery. Valsteners, Twaryians, Netillians, Ellowian equipment…but never an Imperial. Von Blum would know of the enemy they’re to face, yes?”

“The Reich do not give up their secrets so readily,” the prince of Von Blum came to look at the model with you, “But, their primary tank in use is the KT-24, a rather aged design, and from what I have been told, taken about as far as it can be, which is to say, still an inferior tank to even the basic m/32, though better than the m/28. They also have their KT-29s, the infamous landships, though as you see here,” Bastian tapped the barrel, and it swiveled up and down, “Those are well prepared for. They may have improved their armor since their initial deployment, as a reaction to our own countermeasures, but we have hardly been idle, either.”

“I should hope not,” you said darkly, “Even now, I encountered a few enemies that my tank’s 4.7 centimeter cannon was unable to attack effectively from the front, at range. If that is the direction enemies are going, we can hardly afford to be complacent with our present level of weapons and armor.”
>>
“I think you will be happy with what you see here then, with what is in development for the cannons,” Bastian smiled at you, “This part of the facility collaborates with the Capital, and the rest of the Archduchy. The 4.7 centimeter cannon is, after all, the standard anti-tank weapon. Or rather, is scheduled to be, and it ought to be able to continue exceptional performance into the future. Already, we have received data from the service of the Silver Lances over from their latest campaign…or, I should say, your latest campaign.” He led you over to the door, and showed his seal to the guards. Unnecessary, as they were already saluting.

A variety of projects from actual assembly to mere bickering between engineers and drafters was going on even at this time of night. The thing that Bastian showed you first was related to the guns- a new sort of ammunition was in development, and almost ready to begin production. A sort of design where, rather than a steel armor piercing shell with an explosive filler, the projectile was a lighter, softer metal on the outside- and a dense, heavy one on the inside- in this case, a Wolframite alloy.

“These Wolframite shells have a greatly pronounced level of piercing capability against armor,” an engineer showed you and Bastian examples of armor plate, shot through at various ranges, “Of course, Wolframite ores are not so easy to come by locally…so improvements in the velocity and impact characteristics of standard armor piercing shells have been made, as well.”

“Where does Wolframite come from?” you asked in curiosity.

“Mostly Naukland and Emre, though they are loathe to export it in great amounts,” the engineer said, “and parts of Sosaldt, though the mines there are not as productive as they could be, understandably.”

“The Blumlands has its iron and copper and coal, but prospects have not found these rarer heavy metals yet, though they are hopeful, considering what was found even in the days when Alexander ruled over the lords of these lands, and what is being probed for in Altoss” Bastian explained to you, “I hardly think you are concerned with the work of geologists and miners, though. That is outside of this place. Let’s keep going.”
The next thing to see was also of the gun- but a different aspect of it.

“A common complaint in the m/32B has been the lack of turret space provided by the mechanisms of the cannon, never meant to fit inside of a vehicle. Its implementation was haphazard, by the admission of the engineers responsible, but here,” Bastian bid you look at a comparison, “The current phase of development has allowed for a reduction in the weight and size of the gun by about fifteen per cent. This, combined with the project for redesigning the turret for greater space, ought to improve the ergonomics by a comfortable margin, while also improving the gun’s elevation and depression capability.”
>>
“Not to hurry you,” you said, “But I was thinking, by far the most noticeable flaw I noticed in m/32s has to do with the engines. They wear out rather quickly, and are demanding of maintenance, and the m/32B’s extra weight exacerbates those problems. Is there work being done on that?”

“Hm,” Bastian looked to one of the engineers on that question.

“Low priority, milord,” he said to Bastian, “Our vehicles are not expected to range very far…and license production of the engine from Handelwagen means we could get in trouble if we mess with it too much. So I hear.”

A flash of foggy memory, from the sister of one of your crewmen. “Do you have to use Handelwagen engines?” you asked, “I heard you could use something called, er, Honmo?”

“I’m not the person to talk to,” the engineer said abruptly, “Bring it up with the motor people.”

“I didn’t think you knew much about engines,” Bastian said, “Why would you use Honskirch Motor stock?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Somebody who replaced the engine in my tank with something much better said something about that. I think my tank’s engine might be one of a kind, or at least, there’s very, very few engines like it. Custom modified. I think it would be worth it.”

“…Would this somebody be available for an advisory position?” Bastian asked deliberately.
>>
Probably not. Hans didn’t describe his far flung paramour as a…stable person. Or one that fit well in the confines of a high house’s employ, but maybe… “I can’t say for sure.”

“This officer has a lot to say,” an engineer said blithely.

“This officer is Sir Richter Von Tracht, my sister’s husband,” Bastian said levelly.

“My apologies, milord.”

“Don’t worry about that sort of thing,” you waved it off. Frankly, you’d spend enough time away from Strossvald where practically nobody cared about the quality of your blood that you didn’t even notice it anymore. “It’s only that, I’ve been selected to command a specialist unit. It’s just self-interest.”

“I didn’t want to ask you to do work so soon,” Bastian said, but he motioned to the mouthy engineer, “This is Habarth Mundes, one of the senior developers in this complex, actually. Quite hands on. You’ve the most experience with the m/32 recently, in a variety of environments and against more opponents than others might dare to name. Your observations and suggestions based on your experience would be a very good thing for them to hear. Within reason.”

Within reason- these men were not miracle workers, they didn’t have infinite resources, and the m/32 did have its limits. So what was asked of you was to identify the problems and strengths- not to compile a wish-list including a compartment for boiling tea. Though the weight on which you put certain matters, in this position, could certainly prompt quick action where otherwise you but complained to the wind…

>?
I would like to politely request that you base anything off of Richter's actual experiences, here. I refuse to have him list off an entire Warthunder upgrade tech tree description or a similar mountain of crap apropos of nothing especially since his knowledge is no longer anything near encyclopedic.
>>
>>5245306
>?
>"The engines need easier maintenance, but even more important is durability, power and reliance. If the engine is already straining with the weight of a prototype these things need to be improved to make it possible for heavier modifications in the future" (Sosaldt experience)
>"See if there is a possibility to fit an even larger gun in a larger gun compartement, Heavy armor can't be as easily relied on as a big gun. In a tank battle the first shot needs to destroy the enemy" (Elowie and mostly Netiland)

What I'm getting at is a more reliable and hard hitting "cavalry tank". Somewhat of an early version of a main battle tank.
Armor is not that important since most tank battles are decided by the ones who shoot first.
>>
>>5245306
Well assuming we're be talking to the motor people later here's some suggestions:

- A proper pintle MG mount for the commander, rather than the one we jury rigged up in Netilland.

- Smoke grenade launchers, we know the new model Netillian armoured cars have them

-IIRC our 47mm gun is a great antitank gun but it's HE shell is kind of lackluster, hence having a variant with a gun suited for infantry support might be good as well (Kinda a the mix between 75/76mm Shermans, or even the 105mm howitzer armed variants)

Other questions:
This might not be our department but what about tank destroyers as a complementary platform, based on the m/32 chassis? Whether casemated or open top turreted.

Also on the topic of shell types has any progress been made on the HEP/HESH rounds the X-80 had with regards to mass production? Considering Gerovic managed to seize samples for the Twaryians we can bet they're also going to be working hard on those as well
>>
>>5245306
I'd agree with this anon >>5245317 for the engine however as for the gun I'd say we try to place as much velocity through the gun as possible. Richter learned in the Silver Lances that his gun was superior to the m/32s with the 50mm gun as the 47 had more velocity to work with and to punch through armor with. Also the 47mm has the added benefit of easier logistics as we found out in that defensive battle at the HQ town where we were able to resupply our gun from fallen AT gun positions when logistics failed.

I feel like it'd be a pain in the ass to redesign yet another turret for a bigger gun rather than just iterate on what we have. Though I do want to know what the Roland II is packing (at the very least a cursory look at the blueprints) to see what the future could be, along with a possible timeline for a prototype to be made and tested.
>>
>>5245306
>The engines, even if they aren't expected to range far, improving them will increase their service life and reduce need for maintenance. Changing engines to Honskirch Motors should be seriously considered.
Besides, you never know with war. We hardly anticipated needing to go to Sosaldt, and there was hardly any capacity there to maintain the engine, and we were forced to be more careful there with maneuvering because of the engine. And we've had other experiences where we had to limit maneuverability in combat to prevent the engine from blowing out. This also shouldn't take much resources to achieve, tanks are going to have engines anyway.

>Smoke grenade launchers would be nice to have, but lower priority.
We have had several instances where smoke has been needed, but since these tanks don't come with it, we had to improvise with scavenged smoke grenades, smoke from other vehicles, or artillery called-in smoke. We can't do that as easily for entire regiments of vehicles.

>We need more penetrating power, whether that is in the form of better shells or a better gun, or even dedicated tank destroyers assigned to units.
Even early on, the I-5 (iirc) tanks gave us trouble penetrating, and I don't think it was even that uncommon in Sosaldt for us to have trouble penetrating enemies. Especially in Netilland though, running into more modern designs we regularly needed to flank / close in to reliably penetrate.

>A Pintle MG would be nice to have, lowest priority.
I can't think of many use cases for it outside having more AA ability. I don't like the idea of poking our head out of the hatch, but maybe nearby infantry could use it?

>A bit of armor covering the tracks maybe?
A common theme I've noticed is that enemy vehicles that can't penetrate our frontal armor will try to immobilize us by knocking out our treads (at least in that big Netillian assault in Sosaldt where we held of the hordes of tanks and used the hellfire shell). This can be devastating, so perhaps we can get some armor to cover the tracks somewhat, at least on the front?

>Turret redesign for more space, low priority
Much easier for the crew to escape should the tank be disabled, and also easier to operate in and would fatigue less. Our rescue of von Halm might have gone differently if he were in a 32/B with the cramped turret when we dived in to save him.

>>5245397
They are already in the process of redesigning the turret, and I think it is a worthy venture.
>>
>>5245397
Based on what was mentioned about it a few threads back the Roland should be packing an 80mm, which is definitely good enough IMO.
>>
>>5245406
>>5245306
As for strengths:

>Against anything that isn't modern, the gun and armor hold up very well.
The fact the Netillian spearhead had to track us says something.

>The vision provided by the tank seems to be adequate
Don't have much to compare it to, and it's something that can be easy to miss, but I don't think we've had any problems with identifying enemies while buttoned up, and that's a big deal.

>Sharing ammo with the standard AT Gun is very nice on logistics
We were able to resupply on shells with AT gun crews, and if much heavy combat followed, that would have been very influential.

>The Hull Gun is effective at suppressing infantry and unarmored targets
We haven't seen it do much damage, but it has certainly prevented munitions canister operators from poking their heads up, and several other instances I might not remember specifically. It definitely at least helps keep the crew at ease that we have more than one MG to ward off infantry.

>The gunner's sights seem effective
We don't really have personal experience with them since we don't operate the gun, but I don't remember hearing any complaints about it, and rather do remember hearing complaints when we switched over to different vehicles how their sights were worse (didn't we have some rounds in some Sosaldtian vehicles?). Any improvements to these are nice of course, but no complaints on the current ones.

>The radio is sufficient and necessary
Not all tanks have radios, and that this one does is very helpful for communication both within the tank and within broader units.
>>
Better engine, bigger gun, smoke launchers. Though the gun can probably be kicked up to the state level, considering that heavier armor will be a threat to everyone.
>>
>>5245306
>>5245406
>>5245433
This seems like a sufficient summary of the pros and con of our current equipment.
>>
>>5245306
Change the color to yellow.
>>
>>5245538
Nah, I like the current colors
>>
>>5245406
I'll support this. Not sure how we'd protect the tracks themselves without compromising obstacle crossing capability, beyond some sort of side skirting, which the addition off wouldn't go amiss, considering Richter knows how prevalent anti-tank rifles are and how effective they can be in defense.
>>5245538
Maybe don't paint the entire thing yellow, but offer a suggestion of adapting the standard paint scheme into a more disruptive pattern. If not solid blue, then blue and black/brown. Being blue among the red landscape of Sosaldt might have made for good painting for little Von Rotehof but I doubt it helped us blend in much
>>
>>5245317
Power in the engine, power in the gun.

>>5245349
The pintle machine gun- smoke grenades that are easy to deploy, anti infantry capability, support platforms and High Explosive Plastic.

>>5245397
The engine needs power- the gun should be more powerful, but not bigger, considering limitations.
Also asking after that prototype.

>>5245406 >>5245433
>>5245522
>>5245574
Priority on engine- once more the smoke and the pintle. Piercing also important, but also- protection for the treads. Present opponents are mostly inferior- shared ammunition is a plus, and more weapons are better than less. Little need to improve vision or main armor protection.

>>5245483
The guns and the engine and smoke, though in truth, every gun will be getting bigger, by your measure.

>>5245538
An overpowering love for battle blondes motivating the change to a dusty yellow hue.
Unfortunately the one to bring the subject of standard paint color to is the Archduke's Minister of the Army, not a territorial prince.

Writing.

I'll have to try to spend more time on drawing the Roland II than on Maddy in lingerie or else I'll have lost every shred of dignity remaining.
>>
>>5245798
Just thought about one more minor upgrade: the installation of a tank telephone, so we don't have to stick our heads out to talk to the panzergrenadiers mid-battle.
>>
>>5245931
Could still be a bit early for that level of tech yet anon. Though, we have used the horn to signal before, something like the loader's signalling lamp on the A10 MkII cruiser might be more in keeping for speaking to infantry under gas attack or compromised comms.
>>
>>5245798
Compromise solution that will make everyone happy: Lingerie for the Roland II
>>
>>5245953
Eh not really, what the Americans did in WW2 was basically stick a field telephone to the tank. Not exactly some high tech solution compared to some of the stuff here, much less some of the fancy toys the Netillians have.

Kinda want to steal the idea of those proto-APCs the Mechanised Guard and had for our panzergrenadiers, or the Twaryian Combat Cars to give them extra firepower for their transports
>>
>>5245967
Looks like the EE-8 singal telephone they stuck on Shermans for Cobra was built in '35, I was under the impression they used some later, wartime design unique for tanks.
So yeah, I guess you're right, it certainly seems like a doable mod by this point in quest time.
>>
>>5245967
That phone is really a good idea.
>>
“I have quite a bit to say,” you told the engineer, “Do you have a note pad?”

A sigh, and he went to get one, not even quite ready before you began.

“The engines are the matter of greatest importance. Maintenance to them needs to be easier, they need to have more endurance, they should be more powerful. Mobility, in my experience, has been an indispensable asset on the battlefield. Even if these tanks are not to range far, this would allow them even more fighting even in a small area of operations, as well as allowing for the possibility that they might be able to be used for an unexpected purpose, considering the chaos of war. I would strongly recommend doing as I have been advised, and replacing the engines of our m/32 variants with Honskirch Motors as a standard, especially considering that the m/32B has to carry more weight within.”

“Humm,” Mundes sighed with a heavy dissatisfaction, glancing at Bastian, “They will have to be imported even if we’re not pestered by seagulls about not taking apart their engines. East Valsten does business, but they only do it the way they like.”

“The gun has been good,” you mentioned next, “Though from what I’ve observed, armor is only going to get heavier, so improvements to the power of existing platforms will be a necessity over time. Besides its power, though, it has been accurate, and the gun sights very enabling in this accuracy. My gunners have complained about having to switch away from them when crewing other tanks. To this effect, the m/32B has been very capable in outmatching any opponent that is not a very recent development. Its armor is adequate to the degree that enemies have been forced to attack my tank’s mobility rather than trying to defeat its armor.” This was, you hoped, understood to not include the capability of the Armor of Fate. “I have found, on that note, that the treads and sides may be vulnerable, especially to infantry antitank weapons. I have seen some models of armor that protect their flanks with steel skirting- that may be a worthy addition to look into.”

The engineer was busily scrawling, while bitterly muttering.

“The gun’s ammunition commonality with standard anti-tank guns has been very helpful, as well,” you said, “Though, on a tangent, while the 4.7 centimeter cannon and the 13mm machine gun form a potent duo as the latter provides heavy suppression, though in operations, sometimes, heavier support has been needed. I would advise having dedicated support platforms be made a priority, like those of the Silver Lances, whom had self-propelled artillery able to keep up with and fight alongside the tanks.”

“Can’t waste more 32s on that…” Mundes said in a low growl, “The other junk will have to find a use.”
>>
“There have also been situations where a dedicated machine gun for the commander to use, even a simple mount on the exterior of the cupola, would have been useful,” you added, “It would not be a complex or weighty addition.”

Nobody disagreed- naturally. Though if you had wanted to be a pain you would have added the request that said machine gun have a protective shied or compartment to not expose yourself.

“Also on the matter of small additions,” you said, “While in combat against Netillian armor, many of their newer armored vehicles were equipped with external, remote operated multiple smoke grenade launchers. They were extremely effective at providing quick concealment, and I’d certainly want them as quickly as I could get them, rather than having to manually throw smoke grenades. Also, while vision from within the tank has been sufficient, communication with outside troops has been a problem. I’d want some way for, perhaps, outside infantry to link into the tank’s intercom system.”

“…What,” Mundes raised his shoulders and threw up his hand, “You want a telephone hooked up to the side of the tank?”

“…” Well, actually… “More or less. That can be done, can’t it? It doesn’t sound very complicated.”

The engineer gave a leaning glance to Bastian. “Milord’s soon to be brother in law seems not interested in cutting any costs, with the addition of electrical equipment.”

“They are only suggestions,” Bastian said with a wave and a jingle of his monocle chain. “For now.”

“I also want to ask on the matter of support,” you added as a last point, “Has this facility received a new type of high explosive ammunition to collaborate on? In the eight centimeter caliber, for infantry guns and some vehicles I have heard of armed with that. A High Explosive Plastic shell, effective against fortifications and armor alike. The Silver Lances might have had access to some.”

“We’ve been informed of it,” Mundes said blankly, “The list for deliveries is long, though. Honestly, the territory doesn’t have a lot of eight centimeter infantry guns anyways. Most of the infantry uses the five centimeters, though I hear the new standard from the War Ministry is for people to gear up to the eights as soon as possible. There’s a lot of power difference between five and eight centimeters, after all.”

That much was certainly true, though you could scarcely recall a thing about the five centimeter infantry support guns besides that they were rather antique. Pre-Emrean War, even.

“I believe that was all,” you said.

“Sure you don’t want it changed to your favorite color,” the engineer muttered sarcastically.
>>
“They’re already my favorite color,” you said back, “Though…” No, though you’d seen camouflage patterns, this was not the person to take that up with. With a certain degree of autonomy in the territory, you could even decide on that sort of thing for your unit, though the Battle Line demanded universality in appearance. “Never mind. That’s all.”

“I believe you’ve given plenty of food for thought,” Bastian said as he pointed along, “So then- how about we take a visit to the more secretive facility, then? Since we do seem to have time.”

“Of course. Lead on.” As Bastian took you back around, and back outside, walking on a lit path patrolled by guards who stood and saluted as both of you passed, you asked the Von Blum Prince about non-military matters. “I am to attend court soon, apparently. What is that like? You said that the gathering here was fond of wine, for example.”

“You’ve nothing to worry about so long as you remember your manners,” Bastian said dismissively, “The Blumsburgh courts are hardly those filled with the hard core partiers, schemers, or politicking sorts. So Mathilda doesn’t like them much. Though young bachelors and bachelorettes can be excused for being drawn to the more rowdy ones, I suppose,” he sighed, “And the less upright sort of non-bachelors. Father keeps a tight lid on events under his eyes, though. Ever since Miriam died, he’s had any fun sucked out of him over the years.”

“Miriam…Maddalyn and Mathilda’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“How was your mother?” you found yourself asking, “I hear much of Von Blum’s affection for his second wife, but not much of his first.”

“She died a long time ago,” Bastian said, “And their marriage was arranged. From what I’ve heard…and been told, Clarice Von Eislichtfeld did not want this marriage, but she obeyed her duty. She gave birth to me, and she cared deeply for me, even if Manfred was to be the inheritor of her name. Not an ideal situation for one with her opinion of her bloodline. Mother and Father were always rather standoffish with one another, apart. It isn’t surprising that he remarried.”

“They must have held some affection,” you said.

“I stand before you, do I not?” Bastian gestured to himself with both hands, “My mother was morally upright and dedicated to duty. Part of a noble’s duty is to go to bed with their spouse and have progeny. Being apart from one another besides that is fine…and I remember her telling me, that she was fond of father’s character and caring anyways, even she did not care for being married to him. They were not miserable.”

“That’s good, then,” you said, thinking of Maddalyn again. Your marriage had been arranged…but what would you have done if she didn’t like you? It was hard to consider, but the possibility was a curious one.

-----
>>
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The facility which housed the “secret project,” this new and revolutionary tank, was rather quiet compared to the last place. It would have been queerly empty and silent were it not for the sight of supervisors and security sleepily overseeing what had been left behind.

“Not very busy here,” you remarked.

“Less people are involved. There is a higher standard of security,” Bastian leaned in close, “Because, we are not supposed to have this, to know of this. This was given over from the Capital’s War Ministry projects to our family, surrepticiously.”

You furrowed your brow. “By who?”

“By the Archduke,” Bastian said, still carefully, but he couldn’t have been more matter of fact with the words themselves.

“Well,” you shrugged, “Is it not sanctioned if the Archduke handed it over himself?”

Bastian shook his head once, shortly. “I do not believe it would be interpreted that way. Anyways. This is it. A mere mild steel construct based off of blueprints, everything assembled to fit, but only a still life model no matter how you tinker with it. The Roland II.”

Named after the founder of the Archduchy, you thought, the leader of the Duke’s Revolt that formed Strossvald from Imperial Conquests. The most storied ancestor of the Von Strossvalds- and the man who had raised your house to nobility, as they had fought alongside him and won him victory on the battlefield.

The tank itself was unpainted, rough, yet despite that, it was an imposing hulk. Larger than most tanks you’d seen, not the most titanic you’d ever beheld, but powerful looking in a way that surpassed all but the Red Tide, though that had been a mockery of a true article, and a cumbersome beast. This metal creature had the look of a lean and densely muscled mountain lion, the mighty sort that lived atop the highest mountain ranges, in folklore.

“An eight centimeter cannon, the same caliber as heavy anti-aircraft guns, able to destroy any target that comes into its sight,” Bastian remarked as you stared, “Ten centimeters of frontal armor protection on both turret and hull, sixty to its flanks- about as much as the m/32B’s front. Capacity for a thirteen millimeter machine gun in the hull, though the engineers have debated whether to include that, as you can see from the substitute’s absence. All of this, but also, if the calculations are not massively optimistic, it would be just as swift as an m/32, as well. So, Von Tracht…what do you think?”

>?

This took way too long.Hey the bicentennial picture is a tank, what do you know.Carrying on the theme of things that repeatedly take punishment, the first centennial was Signy.
>>
>>5246620
Now that's a beautiful tank.

>>?
I'm extremely impressed, but how are we going to introduce this plausibly without alarm bells sounding in the Capital if this is unsanctioned? Or is your father banking on his...difficult times to pass so much that it won't really matter at that point?
Additionally, is this a straight copy or do we plan to make any significant changes like the 32Bs to the stock models?

One more unrelated question:
How bad is the final butcher's bill for the Lances, particularly panzer losses?
>>
>>5246629
>Ten centimeters of frontal armor protection on both turret and hull, sixty to its flanks- about as much as the m/32B’s front
Though this should be reversed right, can't imagine that the side armour is six times thicker than the front
>>
>>5246620
Supporting >>5246629
In addition, ask for an estimated gross weight of the running vehicle and how sturdy the local infrastructure is, relative to that.
>>5246636
The Reich has it's landships so the designers must have been anticipating broadsides
>>
>>5246636
Six centimeters, rather- sixty millimeters.
Ain't nothing on land with sixty centimeters of armor that's moving.
>>
>>5246629
+1
I love it already. Though it is rather distressingly short of MGs. Otherwise seems too good to be true. I hope it doesn't have some horrible engine / maintenance issues or something.
It doesn't even have interweaving roadwheels like certain other heavy tanks.
>>
>>5246620
Also also, ask what percentage of parts (if any) commonality it shares with the m/32.
Can we theoretically move m/32-trained crews straight over into these when they're ready to go, or is it scheduled to be stuffed with other new fangled, secret tech that requires re-training?
Word getting out of us keeping the knowlege of this prototype a secret is probably going upset somebody in the IO, isn't it.
>>
>>5246620
I've unironically stared at this tank longer than I did for lingerie Maddy
>?
At this point even putting in a small hull MG to save space is preferable to no MG at all. Though the 13mm has served us well when needed, we need to remember space considerations.

As for general thoughts, supporting >>5246629 though we should probably be cautious. If Strossvald has developed this in secret then what do the other powers have in stock? Assuming parity of course.
It just occured to me that the Reich's involvement in the conflict could have just as easily been to gauge the major powers in the east. Though the entire foray into the east could've fulfilled multiple goals at once

>>5246667
>spoiler
Not like the IO particularly cared for what the capital thought anyway. We can assume they want to centralize the government but I doubt they think we're gonna field this willy nilly anyway.
>>
>>5246659
>>5246676
Eh we can live without a hull MG, there's reasons why they they were removed from tanks. Having a coaxial gun is a must though.

>>5246667
>>5246676
>spoiler
Judging by the whole Garten mess, not even the IO knows what the IO wants. Also I wouldn't be surprised if intelligence assessments on the Reich's current tanks would be erroneous in some form.

Anyway given the whole getting the blueprints via industrial espionage thing it's not like we're going to be able to field any Rolands until a full-scale war breaks out. I'd frankly be surprised if we manage to produce anything more like a platoon max when shit goes down.
>>
>>5246620
>"And have you tested if the engine(s) can actually support this beast and what travel range it may have?"
>>
>>5246620
>If the engineers can deliver on their promises, it will be a tremendous weapon
Though I don't particularly like the hatches on the lower glacis.
>>
>>5246798
hey don't be rude, those bottom hatched were modelled on the real Archduke Roland himself
>>
>>5246809
The real question is if Roland II was the first Archduke, what happened to Roland I?
>>
>>5246834
In an unexpected twist, he was the second Archduke
>>
>>5246620
>?
It may have issues with ground pressure over certain terrain features (high clay / sand content soils, mud, snow, short or otherwise eroded / damaged topsoil layer, etc.) which could lead to poor maneuverability over said terrain, though outright bogging should be fine due to the current (large) spacing of the roadwheels
though / increasing the number the roadwheels, and / or widening the tracks could lead to issues with performing maintenance, since it needs more time / tooling to perform, assuming that they are already towards the limits of what would be comfortably maintained by the crew, unassisted. The large use of rubber while nice for the crews, infrastructure and reliability "could" pose issues should supplies be rationed or otherwise limited since they do tend to wear somewhat quickly and commonly require replacement.
Additionally the roadwheels / suspension being out in the open is also another issue but has been brought up previously, though care should be taken lest this impact on any future potential "track extension" kits.

The Transmission's access panel(s), and the gun's "travel lock" might be a notable feature that could be used to "aim" incoming fire with so should either be moved or steps taken to lower their "profile" if possible.

Lack of defensive Smoke dispensers and MG(s) could be an issue though possibly refitted later, or have been deliberately omitted from the "model".
>>
>>5246926
I agree with the concerns, especially about the exposed wheels and suspension. We could run into a situation in the future where the mobility is taken out and an enemy airforce picks off the tanks like what happened when we were with Anya, but worse because the Strossvald airforce is apparently not very good. I wonder if the Blumlands has its own airforce?
>>
>>5246960
As it is now the "Roland II" would do very well in Tank on Tank combat, but be combatively poor at Infantry support & suppression roles and as such would likely find themselves best used as a reaction force to blunt enemy armored advances, and in defensive roles as strong points where other units can cover for their deficiencies against infantry (and Aircraft).

The gun is also likely to have quite poor HE shells due to the long barrel requiring thicker shell walls and "stronger" fuses; cutting down on the available internal volume for explosives, or a slow burning powder to compensate leading to low shell velocities (which isn't always a bad thing), though will constrain use at long range, which may complicate manufacture since I don't think it uses two part ammunition. another issue would be ammo storage / capacity, since the tank appears to not have sponsons or a turret rack, though that might cause issues with the turret's and to where to put the radio(s), since the presence of a 5th man (bow gunner / radio operator) normally precludes a substantial "forward "Hull rack, and a "Rear" rack would impinge on the volume available fuel tanks and engine, and potentially cause issues for the loader having to rotate shells inside a "potentially" very small space in order to load the gun, or replenish the ready racks(s)

> if the Blumlands has its own airforce
Probably not anything substantial since it would be almost prohibitively expensive for almost no return, the most I would expect would be a handful of recon aircraft and older interceptors if anything, and the money would probably be better spent on a chain of Early Warning & Fire control radars tied into mechanical directors for "static" (for now) Anti Air emplacement's use, in order to limit any large excursions over our "external" boarders if only we had got our hands on a working radar somewhere, and that "reliable" proximity fuses are probably a while away, yet
>>
Based on Richter's experience I would think he's likely to consider the 13mm hull gun to still be vital. A lot of our fights have been close-in battles with enemy light vehicles and infantry, more than long distance slugging matches with enemy heavy tanks. Especially considering that the 80mm main gun's loading time is likely to be considerably longer than the 4.7, that makes the need for a secondary gun for quick reaction shots even greater. If anything we should consider cramming more machine guns into this thing, like maybe one in the back of the turret to suppress flanking infantry? The turret is clearly plenty big, I'm sure it could fit just one more machine gun...

The only other thing I would say the tank is missing is smoke dischargers, as we mentioned previously.
>>
I slept through most of today, sorry for being gone so long.

>>5246629
>>5246637
>>5246659
>>5246676
This is nice, but how do we actually get this rolling?
Also, I want more machine guns.
It does have a coaxial, but it's not in view from this angle.

>>5246667
How similar is this to the last tank, in parts and how it works?

>>5246786
>>5246798
How has the testing gone, anyways? Can this actually do what it's meant to do?

>>5246926
>>5246960
A very in depth breakdown.
While I'm sure this is more for me than in character, it's still very much appreciated. My technical knowledge doesn't actually amount to much.

>>5246834
>The real question is if Roland II was the first Archduke, what happened to Roland I?
Something that was reason that the second one decided to raise his flag in rebellion.

I'll be writing later when I get back. For now, I'll just ask ahead of the proper vote whether you want to hit up the spooky lab and what you want to check out the next day. Even if you've said already a reminder is appreciated.

>>5246629
>How bad is the final butcher's bill for the Lances, particularly panzer losses?
I will answer this later as well.
>>
>>5247341
I think we can pass, spooky lab doesn't seem very useful without someone like Maddy to explain things.

As for next day stuff, maybe send a brief letter to Lord Wossehn so the oil company people can liaise with Bastian's representatives. Also since the wedding date is finally fixed start sending out formal invitations?

Also this is more a long term thing but since we're staying at the Von Blum estate for the foreseeable future is it possible to get a tutor for Richter? If he wants to play around in the big leagues he probably needs to equip himself with the same level of knowledge that any highborn scion would have, rather than solely relying on Maddy. If not a trip to the library may be in order.

We really need to get Richter to relearn his general and military knowledge post-Trance, now that we have a good length of downtime it's the best opportunity
>>
>>5247341
I'm ok with skipping the spooky lab, I don't think we have much real input to provide and the whole thing sort of gives me a weird feeling.
>>
>>5247341
I personally would like to see the spooky lab. I'm sure someone there could explain things even if Maddy isn't there. I agree on the regaining of skills and inviting, but not sure how much of the skills part can be achieved the next day. Maybe we can ask about a tutor and/or personal marksmanship trainer? Going to the library should definitely be an addition in the future, but not necessarily tomorrow.
>>
>>5247484
Maybe we can ask about a tutor and/or personal marksmanship trainer?
We got Hilda for that!
Speaking of which, we need to remember to inform her and Richter's folks that he's back.
We kinda had tunnal vision on the Ginger and totally forgot to inform them we're alive and well.
>>
>>5247341
Let's see the spoopy lab
>>
A walk around the vehicle, since one angle did not tell you everything- you wanted to look upon every part of this creation. It was not perfect- but already, it looked singularly excellent, enough that marginal improvements could only make its standing grow higher…at least, from a dreamer’s perspective.

“I’m extremely impressed,” you said as you looped back around to Bastian, “But…it is not meant to be locked up in a basement forever, is it? If this is unsanctioned, it shouldn’t see the light of day unless the Capital is to be unpleasantly surprised. Though your father did tell me- to expect difficult times. Much work has already been put into this- is such turmoil expected, that this perceived transgression might not matter?”

Bastian frowned deeply. “It is preparation for the worst, yes. I would rather hope for different, but I have heard that to prepare for the worst helps to prevent it from happening in the first place. So, here we are.”

“I hope so too,” you said, “You said it was a construct. So there’s not much known of the parts, or the function yet?”

“Indeed,” Bastian walked to the tank and knocked a loose fist on it, “It cannot even move yet, as the puzzling out of its driving mechanisms requires refinement, and the specified engines require a suitable substitute to be selected, as what we got access to mentions pieces that we do not have access to. This is little more than a paper weight, as of now. There is much work to do before the war machine becomes a reality.”

“How heavy is the paper weight projected to be?”

“Roughly fifty tonnes. That may turn out to change.”

“I am only thinking,” you said, “Of how local infrastructure can take it. If a fifty tonne vehicle can traverse the smaller bridges, for example.”

“A valid concern. One that we have time to puzzle out, if need be.”

”I believe that the 13 millimeter machine gun in the hull is actually quite important, myself,” you gestured to the empty aperture, “Though if space must be saved, a hull machine gun at all is much better than none, by my measure. There’s no real way to have too many machine guns, perhaps. The transmission access hatches are also on a part which I’ve commonly aimed at as a weak point, ” You pondered that, “A way to properly test and release this would be to make enough modifications that it could be deniably distinguished from its source, no?”

“Alright. How so?”
>>
“I was thinking, perhaps,” you thought back to the other facility, “Perhaps, integrating parts of the m/32s into it, where possible? Since it is still in development, and any crews will already have familiarity with such pieces. Perhaps a chimera could be made that would lessen costs, barring, of course, newer developments that would be worth the effort of re-training…fancy new toys like the smoke dischargers I mentioned wanting.” They really had been invaluable for the Netillians- and you’d put them on everything possible if given the chance. “This territory has already done substantial modification with, for example, the m/32B. Even if deployment was merely delayed until the Capital began its manufacturing and deliveries, it would still be ahead of schedule.”

“It is difficult to develop it without being able to field test it, it’s true, though…we were more thinking of taking the risk of secret trials, given our control over the region. The hull at least can be disguised as something else. It’s worth consideration for the costs, most certainly.”

“I’ll be willing to observe such tests and list off suggestions,” you said quickly, “Considering that this place doesn’t seem too busy…” You looked back to this “Roland II.” Though, perhaps that name would be inappropriate, if you were to hope to pass this off as an invention rather than the product of what may or may not have been theft…

>What should this, or rather, its production form, be named?

“There was one more suggestion you had, yes? Experimental protection?”

“Indeed, though,” Bastian said hesitantly, looking at a golden wristwatch, “It is getting rather late, isn’t it?”

“That is fine,” you said, “Would you rather not?”

“If you want to, then I can accommodate you. Though I confess, the place rather disturbs me. Far underground, built in deep caverns…there are airs about the place that unsettle me. Unsettle most. I do not know how familiar you are with such beings as most would not consider more then folk tale, after all.”

More familiar than you should have been- but you were ill concerned with spirits at this point. More, that you would be utterly lost where the other developments had a link to what remained in your head and your experiences. You’d be far more comfortable if Maddalyn came along, to explain what you couldn’t comprehend- and she was currently on business elsewhere. Though mere curiosity did motivate you, too.

>There was no need to dive into a hole and look at ghosts. The tour could end here.
>You’d have to insist, no matter Bastian’s discomfort for haunted caves. It wasn’t as though Maddalyn wouldn’t be out all night too anyways.
>Resolve to come back later, with Maddalyn. That way you could have her insight- though presumably, whatever researchers were there, or whomever might labor in those caves, already had had plenty of advice.
>Other?
>>
>>5246629
>How bad is the final butcher's bill for the Lances, particularly panzer losses?
Not that this is particularly known to you in character- but, after the discounting of recoverable battle losses, mechanical losses, and everything save irrecoverable losses, the Silver Lances lost about forty tanks over the course of the campaign, though many more than that were "knocked out" and then recovered, after all. For reference, a standard Strossvald tank battalion has about eighty tanks- and the Silver Lances have three tank battalions. Combat losses in manpower amounted to about three hundred and fifty dead and five hundred and fifty wounded.
Be merciful with interpretation of those estimates-they're very fast and loose.
In summary, though, they've had worse in terms of casualties- but also one must keep in mind that they dished out far more than they took.
>>
>>5247718
>What should this, or rather, its production form, be named?
If the Roland II is named after the first Archduke, what about naming this after the first Von Blum lord?

>inb4 calling it the m/33 to pass it off as some upgrade

>Resolve to come back later, with Maddalyn. That way you could have her insight- though presumably, whatever researchers were there, or whomever might labor in those caves, already had had plenty of advice.
>>
>>5247724
Honestly already thinking I'm lowballing it, but then, the worst casualties were during the Battle of Sundersschirm by far, with less during all other phases of the operation. So I probably wouldn't increase the numbers by too much, though frontline combat is attritive no matter how good your guys are and even the "Reserve" was consistently in battle, albeit the Lances were often against weaker foes than them.
>>
>>5247718
>What should this, or rather, its production form, be named?

I like the idea of naming it after the first Von Blum lord. Maybe some form of spear or weapon, perhaps a mounted weapon (not lance).
Naming it Richter would be far too presumptive, right?

>You’d have to insist, no matter Bastian’s discomfort for haunted caves. It wasn’t as though Maddalyn wouldn’t be out all night too anyways.
It seems as this is the best way to get feedback to the researchers, given the language of the third option. I don't really think we need Maddalyn with us to properly explain things, we could just ask the researchers. That is part of the purpose of a tour after all.
>>
>>5247718
>What should this, or rather, its production form, be named?
Going back to the idea of naming it after a respectable woman. We can leave which particular woman up to our brother in law though.

>You’d have to insist, no matter Bastian’s discomfort for haunted caves. It wasn’t as though Maddalyn wouldn’t be out all night too anyways.
>>
>>5247718
>What should this, or rather, its production form, be named?
It'd be rather poetic to call them Dawnbreakers no?
A callback to previous engagements around here and a dig at the imperials should they try anything.

>You’d have to insist, no matter Bastian’s discomfort for haunted caves. It wasn’t as though Maddalyn wouldn’t be out all night too anyways.
Might as well just look around. I'm sure the nutters there can lay things out in layman's terms if we ask.
>>
>>5247718
>>Resolve to come back later, with Maddalyn. That way you could have her insight- though presumably, whatever researchers were there, or whomever might labor in those caves, already had had plenty of advice.
>>
>>5247782
+1
Bastian can stay outside if he wante, we can leave together after we're done.
>>
>>5247727
>>5247979
Come back for a date night.
Maybe you've shacked up with a bit of a weirdo. Is it nice or not that she isn't afraid of the dark?

>>5247782
>>5247809
>>5247820
>>5247782
Go on ahead, down, into these caverns. Surely it's nothing you can't take in.

>>5247727
>>5247782
Consider the proposal to name it after an ancestor of your in-laws.

>>5247809
"A respectable woman."
Ask Bastian for one he knows because you seem to not know any :^)

>>5247820
A reference to recent troubles and triumph.

Writing. Still unsure on earlier stated casualty ratio- I might be forced to retcon it in future depending on how much more thought I give it so I'm not going to claim that it's what it was for sure.
>>
>>5248138
>Casualty ratio

Maybe up it to sixty tanks, with higher casualties to match? That's a quarter of the total panzer strength so not insignificant but not extremely crippling either (Though the Silver Lances are over-strength compared to panzer division I assume, tank-wise?)
>>
“I’ll have to insist,” you said to Bastian’s offer, though you did consider coming back later with Maddalyn…that wouldn’t be until tomorrow at the earliest. “If you are discomforted, you can wait outside the place, can’t you?”

“That would not be wise,” Bastian said, “The people there do not know you, and…well. It’s best not to wander there without a member of our family around. A little discomfort is nothing to be worried about. I’ll just need a little wine before bed, is all.”

Whatever could be meant by that? When the Presence was involved, who could say… “Very well. Let’s go, then.”

The way was through a seemingly innocuous building, until you reached something that hadn’t been in either facility, at least, from what you’d seen. An elevator, attended by a soldier.

“Milord,” he bowed to Bastian, “What floor do you wish to go to?”

“The tunnel floor.”

“Yes, milord.”

The elevator went down- not as far as you thought it might, but the reason for that soon presented itself. When you got off, there were yet more soldiers guarding a long and wide concrete hall- you looked behind you, and saw a cut in the back wall with a machine gun sticking out of one side, and an anti-tank rifle peeking from the other. Fascinatingly, the same arrangement was on the other side, as well, where a larger elevator waited, big enough to transport a staff car on.

“This is quite heavily defended,” you observed, “From both sides.”

“It’s never been needed. But it is a precaution that the Hermit advised, when this was being built. Before he…went to sleep.”
>>
“I see.” Were machine guns sufficient defense against a soulbinder trying to break into this place, you wondered. Poltergeist had shredded Yva with one in his one sided duel with her, but he had also been using his sorcery at the same time.

More soldiers waited on the cargo elevator to escort you and the territorial prince- and the ride down was long, longer than you expected, as though to make up for lost depth from the other elevator.

“How deep is this?” you asked, “Was it necessary to carve out this much?”

“These are built into natural cavern formations,” Bastian said, his eyes set firmly on the exposed wall ahead, where you noticed cracks in which Hungry Darkness began to appear, and shirk away from the yellow lamplight on the platform. “And the elder cave formations go deep indeed, so long as one bothers to venture down them. Apparently, such is what my father and the Hermit…and Miriam, my father’s second wife, once did together, a long time ago.”

You tilted your head slowly towards Bastian. “It sounds like they were searching for things…expecting to find something?”

“I know not what for. I just know that creatures live in these depths that do not like to be disturbed…and that these caverns hold energies within them that are ideal for the research of this place.” A second look at the soldiers around you- they all appeared rather grizzled. Men whose loyalty, and silence, could not be doubted.

Finally, the elevator stopped, and there was a shorter hall this time, to a singular steel door. A heavy vault, like the one you remembered trapping the Demiphantom in. Hungry Darkness lingered in the shadows, and as you walked in the dim light, you saw the shadows that you cast…walk ahead of you, stop behind you, fading slowly away while your real shadow remained.

“They say not to give the strange shadows too much attention,” Bastian said hesitantly, his eyes kept forward.

Through the vault door you went, after it opened with slow creaking and whining of metal through the action of two soldiers turning wheels on either side. Within was a rather normal looking door, and the civilized fittings of a place of work. Despite the foreboding entrance, there was a level of comfort provided, even in a place described as a “cavern.” The door opened, as though answering a knock, and you saw a robed figure pass through, a veil over their head, feet wrapped in cloth. Familiar patterns decorated the hems of the robes, and the veil had a shimmer to it like silk.

The figure turned its head to you. “Who is this?” they asked. Their voice was perfectly normal, though to be fair, you couldn’t feel the aura of a Soulbinder, off of this one. Whoever they were, they seemed to just be strange.
>>
“This is Richter Von Tracht,” Bastian spoke before you could, “He is my sister Maddalyn’s fiancé.”

“Ah. The Heritor’s Mate,” the man said in a thoughtful, accented clipping. “Have they mated, yet?”

“What?” you were taken aback, “That is absolutely none of your business, whoever you are.”

Bastian cleared his throat. “Netanel, refrain from such inquiries.”

The veiled figure stared through Bastian. “It is merely a question. A relevant one for he whose only claim to be here is because they are the mate of the Heritor.” The man came forward, and felt about the air around you in a curious motion. “A weave.”

“A mark, I’ve heard, yes,” you said.

"He has a mark?" Bastian asked.

“No. A weave. A mark is made to be seen. A weave is made to defend. Were he marked, he would not be allowed beyond. The children of the deep would be aggravated by his presence. Come, then.”

…Maddalyn had said you were marked, though?

“This is Netanel,” Bastian said to you as the veiled man turned around and shuffled back through the door with a wave for you to follow. “He is the highest among the Hermit’s acolytes. They remain here, them and the families they have taken, living in this facility. Never coming up.”

“The Prince comes to see our work, our progress,” Netanel said lowly, “What does the Mate come to do?”

You’d rather not be referred to as the Mate, as though that were your only purpose. “I am Richter Von Tracht,” you insisted- and were ignored.

“He commands the war machine that was mounted with the armor that the Hermit made,” Bastian said, “That he fashioned, the only set.”

“The Mate will write everything that has happened to it for us,” Netanel said in a passive, commanding tone, “It is necessary. The missing piece towards making it once more may lie in its experiences…”

You passed by a woman and her child- neither were veiled, and they stared at you, the new visitor, wide eyes. They were both ghostly pale, perhaps not having been touched by the sun in years. Then further beyond you went, through another door, then another set of double doors, richly decorated with gold and stained wood, and what appeared to be…rock salt? Here, the walls became the cavern again, though there were fittings for lights drilled into the walls, and hanging chains and cables. Pale flames of candles burned in rings here and there, surrounding what must have been Earth Pearls, with the slightest glint of light within.

”Come, lost one…” a strange, distorted voice seemed to whisper right in your ear.

“A voice?” you said in alarm.

“It’s that woman again, Netanel,” Bastian growled.
>>
“Yjens calls to her children,” Netanel said reverently, “This deep, the difference between the living and dead’s presence is muddied. Do not heed her voice. Those who walk should not heed advice for those passed on.”

“Judge-damned illusions,” Bastian whispered irritably.

A wider amphitheater swept out in a semicircle, before a sheer wall, covered in cracks and carved script. Various other veiled figures moved about here, some of them simply standing, with their arms outstretched, chanting in whispered mountain tongue, ignoring you and Bastian completely. Slabs of various metal were propped up on shrines, devices set up to drip water upon them, lit on one side by a candle, but facing the dark walls on the other. A look to the floor revealed shallow cuts, patterned in sweeping geometrics around each shrine, wet with water inside them.

“The Mate looks in curiosity, but does not understand,” Netanel said in a flat tone, “The Heritor might tell him.”

“I don’t see why you can’t tell me,” you said back, annoyed, “Surely you know what you’re doing here.”

“The Heritor forbids that I speak with the Mate,” Netanel said, and you realized that he must have been speaking solely to Bastian this whole time, on purpose. “If you would relate what you know, Prince. Though we will not answer his queries made in your voice.”

”They’re trying to draw in spirits, or something, to inhabit this metal,” Bastian said, keeping his distance even as you peered at the plates, “How to do it isn’t clear. The Hermit made the first armor out of another artifact, so he was jumping on top of another’s work. Since he’s not responsive anymore, though, if we want more of that…then this experimentation is the only way.”

However, you were thinking of something else. They had been forbidden to speak to you..?

>So be it. You’d seen what you came to see- take this as an invitation to leave.
>Poke around more. See what you can find out. (Look for what, or do what?)
>Act forcefully. Demand to be told more. (How, and what?)
>Other?

>>5248158
That sounds pretty good. Though I'm also considering the panzergrenadier, assault group, recon, et cetera, who are doing as much fighting with less protection, after all, though they're also some of the best of Strossvald themselves.
>>
>>5248277
>So be it. You’d seen what you came to see- take this as an invitation to leave.
>>
>>5248277
Can't we write down all our experiences, especially those of the mystical variety, for him? He said that he wanted us to, and it might help develop more super armor, or find a method to replenish our tank better.
>>
>>5248326
You can. I'd assume you want to, really.
>>
>>5248327
Was meant more as a vote than an inquiry, I guess I should have put it as greentext. Does this mean we were going to do that anyways?
>>
>>5248336
>Does this mean we were going to do that anyways?
Not necessarily- but mostly yes, because I don't know why you wouldn't want to, considering. Given Richter's innate lack of understanding of how the Armor of Fate even works, I wouldn't really think asking for a write in of a report of it would be too fun here.
>>
>>5248277
>Poke around more. See what you can find out. (Ask Bastian about the salt, the Heritor title in detail, as well as if the other family members have "fun" titles, and take a moment to write about Richter's experience with the Armour of Fate. Everything else can be talked about with Maddalyn tomorrow. Also see what exactly they know about Richter besides the fact he's Maddalyn's partner.)
Also, would someone please ask the very obvious question of what can and would be done WHEN the myriad factions of soulbinders eventually and inevitably find out about this fuck shit.
Not really telling them to stop since they seem so dead set, just asking what plans they got to avoid trouble.
>>
>>5248277
>>5248348
>>5248326
This too.
>>
>>5248348
+1
>>
>>5248277
>So be it. You’d seen what you came to see- take this as an invitation to leave.
Time to have a talk with the wife.
>>
>>5248277
>>Poke around more. See what you can find out. (Look for what, or do what?)
For Science! (and tech-tree progression)
>>
>>5248277
>>Poke around more. See what you can find out. (Look for what, or do what?)
Is the ghost armor all they're working on down here, or are there any other projects? Is it all out in the open like this, or are there any areas that they keep secret even from Bastian? How often does Maddy come down here?
>>
>>5248277
Supporting >>5248326 >>5248348 >>5248555
Secondhand questions all round. Also ask if these people are of the subterranean race Maddy (I think) mentioned before or if that's something else entirely, and what exactly the rock salt is good for, considering he should still have some saved up from that merchant caravan where we got our nice gloves.
>>
>>5248277
>>Poke around more. See what you can find out. (Look for what, or do what?)
Ask if burning the flowers for Yjens would help a non-believer.
How many of them are down here?
Maybe mention specifically to Drippy that when the tank was out of presence it seemed almost ravenous and oppressive to the living crew inside.
Are you so sure that what was inside the tank is metal and not something more alive?
Are they doing experiments for the gun and Hellfire shells as well?
>>
>>5248826
Waits some of these won't be answered because Bastian likely won't know. Just focus on the gun/shells/acolyte numbers.
>>
Yesterday was absolutely exhausting.

>>5248282
>>5248400
Leave it all be, then. There were other answers that were needed.

>>5248348
>>5248352
>>5248357
>>5248403
>>5248555
>>5248648
>>5248826
Incorrigible curiosity. How is a man who lost half his knowledge supposed to not yearn to have his treasury restored?

Writing.

>>5248648
>if these people are of the subterranean race Maddy (I think) mentioned before
Maddalyn has not spoken of mole people, that was a Neubaum aside.
Though with her short stature and pale complexion she might be a mole person herself.
>>
If they weren’t going to talk, then so be it- but Bastian would talk to you, at least. “I suppose I should write down everything these people want to know of how I’ve used their armor,” you said scornfully, “Just so I can be sure I won’t waste any breath.”

“That would be for the best,” Bastian said tiredly, “Netanel, there isn’t anything new to report, is there?”

“The secrets of the Master still elude us,” the head of the veiled men said in reverence, “But our understanding grows with each regrettable failure. There are missing pieces that need to be identified before we can move forward.”

“So no, then,” Bastian said firmly, “Alright then. I will leave you to your work. I must attend to Von Tracht. Have no worry, I won’t show him where my sister has not allowed,” he leaned close to you, “He will be watching anyways,” as the man shuffled off.

“I don’t know how much you will know of what I want to know,” you said, “But I have questions even if these people won’t answer them.” Bastain nodded. “First off. Who are these people? Acolytes of the Hermit, yes, but are they mountainfolk?”

“Yes,” Bastian squinted at you, “Why, did you think they were Dunkelvolk?”

“Their skin pigmentation is rather wrong for that, aren’t they?”

“No, not them,” Bastian said, “They are from over the sea, and the ones who do come here would not stray far from the seas, for concern that they might be stranded by the maelstroms, and never be able to have their bones rest in their homelands, cursing them to wander lost eternal, according to their beliefs. The Yebewochi. Dark folk are from this continent, called that because they live in the dark, not because they themselves are dark colored. They would not deign to leave the land, or for that matter, venture out in the sun.”

“Sorry,” you said, “I’ve managed to forget quite a lot of what I once knew. Anyways, I…suppose so. Mountainfolk don’t make a habit of living underground, after all.”

“Not unless they want to hide, as these ones do,” Bastian looked out over the veiled, “I suppose you’d want to know just how well hidden they are, considering all of this.”

“Yes,” you said, “I’d think you’d know at the very least that there are forces out there who would consider this forbidden knowledge, that is not to be meddled with by people besides them. People who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy you and all of this. I hope you don’t think that the machine guns above would be enough to dissuade a determined attempt by them. I’ve heard tell of them meddling beyond what they once did, even. They might grow aggressive enough to try and find things like this.”
>>
“Indeed,” Bastian sighed in discomfort, “That much is true, but this was constructed to the Hermit’s specifications, his request. To remain hidden. If anybody could devise an effective hiding place from “them”, an elder sorcerer could. Besides…even if I were to shut things down, they would continue their work. I would merely be burying the problem for somebody else to find,” he looked to you, “Which is an option. To deflect all blame.”

“You are saying that rather casually before them.”

“Because they offered,” Bastian said, “There is no plan for active resistance in the event of an attack by those we don’t even know. Merely what to sacrifice. But they have not found this yet. There have been no signs of such.”

No signs, save for Poltergeist coming to dispatch the Hermit. Or was he really doing that on behalf of somebody else? The specter had a habit of obeying nothing but his whimsy, despite claiming to be on a side. You certainly couldn’t imagine what could control him. He made constant exceptions for his own entertainment.

“So is this armor the only project down here?” You asked, “Or are there other things? Anything they keep secret even from you?”

“Nothing,” Bastian declared, “Is kept secret from their hosts. They know better than to try. They are not sorcerers like the Hermit, but mere mystics, and plenty mortal. Nothing is a secret before my father, or me, who will take his seat in time and must know all he does. To that point, no, there is naught besides this. Everything else is to support this endeavor, including housing for their families and facilities for their comfortable living. Kitchens and recreation and such.”

“I see,” At least there wasn’t such a grand scale of forbidden things here that it was begging for somebody to try and find it, “About these metal slabs…that’s not all there is to the armor, is there? I remember seeing it exposed in my tank once, and there’s definitely something…alive, in there. Something that gets hungry sometimes.”

“I have very poor understanding of what their intent is,” Bastian said, “And frankly, I am comfortable with that. This is all rather disturbing to see the process of. However, what they are trying to do doesn’t involve the metal. It involves drawing some sort of creature or spirit into it- that is what gives otherwise rather soft and merely pretty metal the power to do…what it does.”

“A spirit?”

“A very powerful one. So I am told. It all sounds like mystic babble to any normal man, but,” Bastian turned on his heel, “I believe we know better. I would be out of this place, to not tempt fate’s fickle hand.”
>>
So you passed back out, beyond the salted door. Something you felt the need to ask about. “There’s salt all about that door. Even carved into gems, from the look of it?”

“They ward away malicious spirits, or something like that,” Bastian said dismissively, “I do not know. I do not take much stock in such. To ward with salt seems less effective to me than to purge with fire, but these mountainfolk would rather not have icons of the Judge about, and so be it, if they wish to be sealed underground as they are.”

“How many of them are down here, anyways?” You asked next. There had been about eight of them in that cavern room with the slabs.

“Including their families which they keep with them, twenty five,” Bastian said, “Eleven are disciples of the Hermit who actually do the research. Seven have wives, and the rest are relatives or children. They’ve actually increased in number since they arrived, and two are pregnant- I suppose they have considered the possibility that they will not leave for a very long time. Not all of them have family here, but the ones that do have them do tasks for them. Cooking and cleaning and such. All that we have to do for them is provide food and supplies, they mostly take care of themselves.”

“It almost sounds more like a colony than a research facility,” you mused, “What about those titles they used? I am not much fond of mine…don’t they know anything more about me?”

“It is what you are to them,” Bastian said with little concern or sympathy, “They know nor care little else about you, no. I would not think much of it. They’re not particularly broadly minded. I am the Heir, my father is the Delver. Anybody else is something such as “Brother of the Delver’s Heir,” or the like.”

The Delver, huh. “Or the “Heritor,” you said, “What does that mean? Do you know?”

“Maddalyn was the apprentice to the Hermit. She must have told you this,” Bastian said, “From a very young age. I’m unsure exactly when…I want to say that it may have been only a little time after Mathilda was born, but by that time I was my own man, with my own responsibilities and concerns.”

“These acolytes are not his apprentices?” You wondered aloud, “They seem to be plenty devoted to learning what he was doing.”

Bastian shrugged. “I do not know. They don’t seem to know entirely, either. Apparently the Hermit kept secrets even from his own flock, and now, they might never be learned. The best I can venture is that Maddalyn was particularly suited to what he wished to teach…her physical condition, her lack of sight, perhaps.”

Something to ask Maddalyn herself, maybe, amongst other things…

Such as if she had intentionally deceived you.
>>
“I doubt I’ll learn anything more poking around,” you said, “I’ll write up my report for these people and we can be on our way. What time is it?”

“Quite late,” Bastian said, “I imagine you must be tired. You can write later and it will be delivered, if you like.”

“I may as well do it now,” you said, “I won’t be long.”

-----

Once you’d returned from the underground, you went back to the manor, and bid Bastian good night. A guest room was offered for quarters- but that was fine. Your suitcase could stay with you in Maddalyn’s room. Not sharing a bed was something you had little interest in- though you’d have to be by yourself tonight.

You lay awake in Maddalyn’s bed for some time, thinking, wondering. About the questions you’d been asked to present to Maddalyn. About what you’d seen and heard underground. Whether it was worth disrupting your new peace here to even touch upon. Whether it’d be better to just forget it all and be happy, now that you weren’t being shot at anymore. If you even had a choice to not be involved in some way.

Off to sleep you went- and though you might have wished to be whisked away someplace to have questions answered one way or another…it didn’t happen tonight. Perhaps if you neglected the blackflower that had become habit- or perhaps if you experimented to find yourself a connection again. If you even wanted to do that.

>?
>>
When you woke up in the morning, arms were wrapped around you under the covers. Maddalyn had crawled into bed with you, in her pajamas, and had nestled herself in the crook of your body, holding you tightly to herself.

A stretch, and you started to sit up.

“Hmm!” Maddalyn squeaked in protest and squeezed her arms tighter, refusing to let you go even in her sleep, it seemed. “Mmm.”

You’d slept enough, though. It was time for morning tea- or at the very least, to get out of bed. To do what…you were unsure yet, but there were other things to take care of. A call home wouldn’t hurt- you’d sent word to home and other places that you were coming back safe, but hadn’t gone there to visit first.

Ah. Right. You also had to wrap up matters with that oil drilling company Lord Wossehn had set you up with. Your father had presumably gotten the forms for it by now- you’d merely have to try and set up some coordination between that company and the Blumlands. Something you could surely leave to others, once you informed them of what you wanted.

Though…to get up and do anything, you’d be leaving Maddalyn here. Did she have to get up now, too? Additionally, there was the matter of…well. Many things.

>Leave her to rest. Take care of your business, and then take her around for some fun when she wakes up. There’s no need to invite trouble or try and bring up uncomfortable subjects. (What to take care of, what to do?)
>Let Maddalyn sleep. But you had questions when she got up- presumably to have over her breakfast. (What to speak of?)
>Wake Maddalyn up. She’d have underslept- but you needed to know things before she ran off to wherever. (Talk about what?)
>Other?
>>
>>5249532
>?
Stop taking Blackflower. I would like to have a conversation or two with Poltergeist or whoever before he comes calling and we lose that thread assumably forever.
We love and live with a spooky girl and her spooky family, Richter can't afford to not learn what he can.

>>5249533
>Leave her to rest. Take care of your business, and then take her around for some fun when she wakes up. There’s no need to invite trouble or try and bring up uncomfortable subjects.
Call home and wrap up matters with the oil company while waiting for Maddalyn to wake up. Maybe see if she'd like to take a day trip to visit family and Hilda. If she's too busy for it we could alway get a renta car as per Mathilda's recommendation and go out on the town.
>>
>>5249550
Seconding. I really want to ask her about those things but we probably shouldn't do it as soon as she wakes up.
>>
>>5249532
>>?
Stop the drugs

>Leave her to rest. Take care of your business, and then take her around for some fun when she wakes up. There’s no need to invite trouble or try and bring up uncomfortable subjects. (What to take care of, what to do?)
I want to visit the Von Blum armored formations, meet those were likely to work alongside with. Maybe send a letter to Von Metzler, since he's a part of the capitals reinforcing armor battalion maybe we could tempt him to transfer to the Von Blum Territorial Forces instead and be part of our demi-battalion.
>>
>>5249550
>>5249661
Oh! I like the part about sending a letter/making a call to Von Metzeler, maybe inviting him and the wife over or plan an outing, but I think we can save all this military stuff for another time.
>>
>>5249533
>Leave her to rest. Take care of your business, and then take her around for some fun when she wakes up. There’s no need to invite trouble or try and bring up uncomfortable subjects. (What to take care of, what to do?)

Settle the oil stuff, send the date out to Magnus (since he's the furthest away of the invitees and still technically in a war zone), make a call home. Not sure if Strosstadt is a bit too far for a day trip since it takes about 4-5 hrs one way apparently but maybe we can fly instead of train in, idk. Or ask her to take the weekend off and we can go for another trip in the city like last time.

I'd support pencilling in visiting the armoured formations at a later date as per >>5249661, maybe after our court introduction? I assume we'll meet one of the top brass or another there so that'll be a natural opportunity.

As for Von Metzeler, Lord Von Blum did say per >>5238899 that there'd be provisions made for our subordinates.
>>
>>5249704
+1
also, kinda doubt we'd be able to get Metzeler, isn't he the heir for this other territory now?
>>
>>5249704
Also stop taking the blackflower.
>>
Tonight was substantially less tiring.

>>5249550
>>5249661
>>5250114
No more blackflower, my dreams need to be colorful.

>>5249550
>>5249649
>>5249661
>>5249704
>>5250065
Let your Maddy sleep unmolested. Take care of your business- send out some things, make calls. For home and Rondo. Gee what about your other officers, Von Metzeler only has one woman, Von Neubaum has like four Schedule. Make a note to check out the local armor groups.

Writing.

>>5250065
>also, kinda doubt we'd be able to get Metzeler, isn't he the heir for this other territory now?
That wouldn't actually preclude him from joining, but on a different note, while he is heir to the house of Von Metzeler, he is not the heir of Von Schneeberg. Females can inherit in Strossvald- it's just that family lines pass down the male side unless the man takes the lady's name. So Rondo would not inherit the household and property from Klaudia's father- Klaudia would, and further right to inheritance would be passed down to her child.
>>
>>5250413
Are we even inviting Von Neubaum? He's like the only one of the IO gang I think Richter wouldn't bother sending an invitation.
>>
>>5250510
From our perspective, watching over several threads of the story from multiple characters' viewpoints, Von Neubaum might seem like a sleezy, underhanded guy, but beyond what he might have heard recently from badger boy or the Major, Richter should at least still find him an amicable comrade.
Besides, imagine the trouble him and Mathilda would get up to if we did invite him.
On that same vein however, did we offer invitations to any of the Lances?
>>
Short update coming up. I apparently had tiredness lingering over from Friday, and tonight's not going to be very fun either so that's not keeping me in the best writing mood, but I can at least have something going until I get back.
>>
With a careful slip under her arms, you freed yourself from Maddalyn’s grasp- and she groggily groped for you again, but you held her arms against her in your own embrace and settled her, giving her a kiss on the head before you left. She’d be sleeping for some time yet- and you had things to arrange for later.

Firstly, you thought after you got dressed and exited the door with a hand run over your head to not look too much a mess, you needed tea, and a telephone. A look at your watch- father would be at work. You could call him there, rather than at the old house which had no telephone. Hardly unusual- though the Von Blums had one in their manor that a servant guided you to on request, situated on a wooden platform and set into an alcove in the wall. After you’d gotten tea, of course.

“Operator,” a female voice said to you soon after you picked up.

“Hello,” you said, “I am Richter Von Tracht, calling from the Von Blum household. I’d like you to put me through to Strosstadt, to Von Tracht and Associates Legal Affairs?”

“Please hold.”



“Von Tracht and Associates Legal Affairs, how can I help you today?”

“I’d like to speak to Geroldt. I’m his son, Richter.”

“Oh, of course. One moment.”

You drummed your fingers on the wooden platform the telephone was situated on, sipping your tea and putting it down on the table beside. Perhaps this wouldn’t exactly be the sort of call father expected from the Blumlands…

“Richter,” Father sounded a little tired already, “It’s good to be able to hear your voice again. How are you?”

“I am whole and hale,” you told him, “I’ve lost no more pieces of myself. I went to the Blumlands before home…sorry. I wanted my fiancée to be the first person I saw this time.”

“That’s fine, though your mother won’t be happy about that.”

You sighed, and leaned against the wall, “Yes, well…I was thinking of coming over to see you and mother with Maddalyn. Today or tomorrow. Are you too busy for that?”

“Not right now,” Father said, “Not at all. That would be splendid- Hilda would be delighted, too.”

Yes, that… “How have you been doing?”

“Your mother and I have been quite well. Did you know, that the charges that were brought against you were dropped?”

“I did.”

“We will have to talk off of the phone about that.”

You laid your head flat against the wall and closed your eyes. “Yes. Besides that, though.”

“I also received a rather odd offer in your name from a “Alphonse Nicholas Edsel Wossehn.” A confirmation of sale of stock, purchased with loaned money. You sent a letter along, but I wanted to tell you that I had an associate check it and I investigated it as well before it was sent back with approval in your name.”
>>
“I see. That’s good.” Not that you expected Wossehn to try and deceive you, but the gift was a rather huge thing. Perhaps it wasn’t something that Wossehn, wealthy as he was, saw as particularly huge compared to what he already had. “Is mother doing alright as well? I don’t mean to worry her…”

“She’s been plenty worried, Richter, but she’s had confidence in you. I’d say that having Hilda around has been distracting her well enough, though she did always want more than one child. Hilda, on the other hand, has been healthy…but she’s had a strange man around her for some days, now. She won’t say what his name is, but she does say he’s harmless.”

“A strange man?”

“I am skeptical of him, but since she won’t say his name, I don’t know anything besides what your mother and I see. He’s rather ordinary otherwise. Handsome, jolly, he doesn’t seem to be a criminal or the like. Hilda doesn’t socialize very much, as you ought to know, so I wonder how this man’s still around. I ought to be glad for her, but it’s very odd.”

“I see,” your lip curled into a deep frown. Who in the world could that be? “My wedding will be in three weeks. I’m still not sure if I’m inviting everybody that I should, but, of course you’re all to come.”

“It’s about time, isn’t it?” Your father made a jab at you, “Are you about to go far off again the week before?”

“Not this time,” you said, “Though I certainly won’t be staying here the whole time…”

“We’d be happy to have you visit, besides. Will you fly? Territorial Lords do have their own aerial transport.”

“That’d be preferable, yes,” you said, “I’ll try to call again if I confirm a space for a visit very soon. Take care.”

“Goodbye, Richter. I’ll tell your mother you called. Love from both of us.”

So you hung up, and thought about the wedding again. Were you forgetting anybody in your planned invitations? Your original platoon and crew from your journey to Sosaldt, the prominent figures in the new Republic of Mittelsosalia- Edelschwert would need one sooner rather than later, since Netilland was still a war zone and there was no telling if word would even arrive in three weeks, let alone if the conflict would be over for certain. Your retinue…should have the right, but Maddalyn refused to hear of the possibility. Then there were also your comrades in the Silver Lances, who you so recently left- Von Halm and the Von Rotehofs, Schafer and Hausen. Was there anybody you were forgetting? Or perhaps, where you should reconsider…

>?
>>
>>5251262
>>?
Sounds about right. Dunno if it's assumed already but invite Von Metzeler's wife as well, I think from Richter's perspective he'd be curious to see her.
>>
>>5251262
That's pretty much everyone I'd imagine could make it, but we might as well send some to a few that are more questionable.
King Wladysaw XI of Ellowie and his lovable cousin, aka Emma.
Also, some folks from the Iron Hogs. Swineman and everyone's favorite mechanic.
I'd like to see how the old porker interacts with his best friend's brother and this would be a great time to introduce those mechanics from before to our contact for the potential "advisory position"
>>
>>5251300
Dunno about Emma, Maddy might want to blast her for being an abomination.

Otherwise supporting this as well, as you said I'm not sure whether they'd be able to come but we might as well make the effort to ask.
>>
>>5251262
>?
I've had a think and the only (mortal) individual we're missing I can think to invite that has reasonable odds of getting here in time, considering the circumstances of the world as it is, is Captain Honnrieg.
Much as I'd like to have Emma present for the wedding for Hilda's sake, I haven't got the beginning of an idea how we would get a Duchess here from Ellowie with the war in the east still ongoing, unless anons have suggestions.
>>5251300
Didn't Anya once imply that Schweinman was suspected of being responsbile for killing off Hel? I don't think bringing him to the wedding, considering we only met him the one time is a great idea, personally. Especially if we are smuggling in Anya somewhere, somehow.
>>
>>5251319
Pretty sure the Ellowians can fly here, just like how Wlad turned over the Netillian VIP prisoners over to Mittelsosalia.

The main issue really is whether they can afford to leave the country right now with all the tensions between them and the Exiles.
>>
>>5251317
Maddalyn can't do that anymore. Our little ghost gal evolved into a possessor spirit!
She's nice and comfy in the body of that rude dutchess and I doubt there's much Maddalyn could or would do about so long as the girl behaved herself.

>>5251319
>Much as I'd like to have Emma present for the wedding for Hilda's sake, I haven't got the beginning of an idea how we would get a Duchess here from Ellowie with the war in the east still ongoing unless anons have suggestions.
How she or anyone gets there isn't important. They can figure that out if they wish to come or not.
The point is that we send the invite at all, just in case they can so they know they're welcome and wanted.
Besides even if the King can't come, his cousin is well known to be the sort to galavant around and isn't much important to the local politics. She could easily come with a few dozen guards.

>Didn't Anya once imply that Schweinman was suspected of being responsible for killing off Hel? I don't think bringing him to the wedding, considering we only met him the one time is a great idea, personally.
Based on the few conversations with him we've had, he seems to have great respect for both his friend and his family and knows well the situation about their lineage. I wouldn't wanna deny him a chance to cheer on his friend's folks.
Or a chance to see how people react to Karla being Richter's pocket mechanic.
Then again, if we brought those two we might need to also bring our "cousin"...which might lead to problems...
I'll still vote for it, but your concerns are noted.
>Especially if we are smuggling in Anya somewhere, somehow.
Who said anything about doing that? Not without forcing Maddalyn to make a major concession. Which is possible I suppose, but not something I wanna think about.
Though, we really do need to take time aside to pick her up at some point. She's probably going crazy back in her home town.
>>
>>5251317
>>5251319
+1 to these suggestions. I hope nobody smuggles Anya in even if she deserves to be here, I don't want the drama. Luckily, she seems to be against the idea?
>>
>>5251262
Strossvald’s High Command
>>
>>5251746
+Archduke Siegfried
>>
>>5251262
We should invite Poltergeist as well; it would be rude not to.
>>
>>5251775
Don't forget the Major. Or Loch Though what IS he up to these days?
>>
>>5251775
Unironically yes to this
>>
Use your imaginations, people! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity here.
There's probably at least one Liemanner available we can invite. Maybe extend the offer to that entire village of shades where we shot our first Hellfire or the hungry catfish living in the woods near the Von Tracht house that Maddy was so fond of.
Slather Richter in honey and send him down the tunnel to attract some living stones while we're at it, imagine what the courts will think if we had a procession of giant, colourful crabs open up the ceremony?
>>
>>5251285
Let Von Metzeler take along his hips.
I mean wife.

>>5251300
>>5251317
>>5251502
Think of the King- and the Countess, Kamilia. Or rather, who you'd rather they be. If possible.
A few wild hogs. Plenty of intertwining relations there.

>>5251502
>>5251319
Get that captain in. After all- you're about to outrank him.

>>5251746 >>5251752
Some extreme ambition there.

>>5251775
>>5251775
It would be rude not to- but even those who actually know how to contact him do not know how to convince him to actually attend when they want him to...

>>5251788
I'm sure the Major would be happy to bother you. Good luck finding an address for Loch, though.
So you're trying to get Loch in the same place with both the Major and Signy, two women who want to throw him in prison if they see him. The question is who you're planning on giving him to.

>>5252120
Meanwhile this guy wants to invite something called a Devourer to a mass gathering of people.

Alright, writing now.
>>
>>5252153
>and the Countess, Kamilia
I thought the majority opinion here was excluding the Countess?
>>
>>5252158
I was in favour, just uncertain of how to facilitate it.
>>
>>5252158
I was under the impression that the other was "don't know how" rather than "would rather not" but if people indeed feel the latter then I'll change it.
>>
>>5252166
Oh, I see. Well, I at least am opposed to it.
>>
>>5252166
I'm in favor of inviting Kamilla
>>
>>5252153
Last I heard Kamilla was kept in confinement because she was considered unstable. Let's not invite Emma or the King, they both seem pretty busy.
>>
>>5252166
I'm in favor of inviting her if there's a vote. If she's too unstable she probably just wont come. Probably.
>>
>>5252228
If they're busy they'll just refuse the invitation. Not inviting them is rude.
>>
I think its just funny that Kamilla's goons beat the shit out of Anya and Richter was forced to watch like a cuck and now we're just inviting her to our wedding. And word of that did go around so people do know. I know its Emma were really inviting but holy shit imagine being Anya already probably pissed that your arm was nearly blown off and now Richter invites Kamilla and your kept exiled in shithole nowhere.
>>
>>5252484
Also if there is a vote to invite her im in favor of doing so just because holy shit it'd be rude not to and because it'd be funny to Anya
>>
Who else was there to bring into this, you wondered as you paced about the phone. Von Metzeler had gotten engaged- surely his fiancée could come along. Unless he’d managed to get married before you, somehow, which would be…embarrassing. Though you were curious of just who she was- and how she and your comrade felt about one another. There were also the other familiar faces from the Sosaldt expedition to consider- Captain Honnrieg and Bat Company were hopefully not too occupied (though considering their position, they very well might be- and not the whole unit, obviously), and perhaps you could draw off some of the Iron Hogs. Though who might say if they’d even come when asked, either- the offer would be extended nevertheless.

There was also the potential of other important guests- sending invitations all around didn’t obligate anybody to actually come unless they wanted to, though, and you somehow doubted the Archduke and all of Strossvald’s high command would bother coming, considering your house’s lack of prestige, though that wasn’t to say they might not attend for the Von Blums rather than you. Somebody who’d come for you might be, perhaps…the Ellowian royalty. Would Wladysaw be too occupied to attend? Perhaps, but it would be a kind gesture to offer. Maybe he’d send along his cousin as well…whether or not that would be a good idea. You hadn’t seen nor heard what had become of Emma and the person she inhabited since you had left Ellowie, and the curiosity burned inside when it intruded upon idle thoughts. Had it been the right thing to do? What would come of it? Would it really be a good idea to show Maddalyn something you had prompted? Perhaps not…but Wladysaw would be the one to choose whether he would come or she would come anyways. You wouldn’t deny the Duchess, at least- just in case.

Though if you were to extend the possibilities out…you entertained the absurdity of the idea of inviting Poltergeist, laughed to yourself about the picture of that giant creature amongst the other guests. It had been quite a long time since you’d spoken to him- in person, or in the mystic otherworld- and you’d resolved to cease depleting your reserves of blackflower, already near dry, to try and arrange another encounter. Ideally with Poltergeist, and not the Demiphantom…though the latter was closer than it had ever been, once again, and you didn’t want to go towards its crypt if you didn’t have to, if it had already invaded your slumber.
>>
With some exceptions, you made it a point to inform whoever was organizing things to send word to these guests the Von Blums would otherwise overlook- they had better capacity to actually get your invitations out than you, if Maddalyn’s maid finding you in a war was any indication. There were also people who’d probably show up just because they could- the IO would make a point of it, and as an officer in their organization, it was only a matter of time before the Major showed up to bother you again, though hopefully you’d be left in peace for at least a few months.

Considerations over, you moved to make good on them before anything else. There was plenty to busy yourself with on that front before Maddalyn woke up- including future military matters, once you couldn’t forget about wedding arrangements…

-----

Your morning was filled out with a brisk walk to the local offices of the territorial military- to try and get forms for you and numbers you wanted to know. It’d take a little time, but best to get on that sooner rather than later. Breakfast was pork sausage and egg and cheese in a butter roll, bought from a street vendor who was surely gouging the prices, and rather than heading straight back, you loitered about the city…until you noticed how many people eyed your mask strangely. It was discomforting to be under those skeptical looks, and alone- and you were not in uniform, either. Who knew what people might be thinking was wrong with you?

When a uniformed man approached, you feared for the worst, but were pleasantly surprised when they instead said they were here to deliver something for you. Not the forms you had requested- but something else that had been scheduled to be given over. A brief glance told you what they were- because you’d worked with similar in Ellowie. Or rather, had your retinue fill them out to your specifications. You really needed a secretary…or perhaps, you needed your retinue back to be your secretary again.

The sheaf of pages listed what was to be allocated to your demi-battalion, in terms of equipment. One reinforced company made up of three platoons of m/32 type tanks and two of reserve-type tanks such as m/28 and LT-24, a reinforced company of six platoons of panzergrenadier, an armored reconnaissance platoon, a logistics and maintenance mixed company, one each of a 4.7 centimeter anti-tank platoon and an 8 centimeter infantry support gun platoon, and a headquarters group for command, control, and signals. All of the trucks were of standard, unarmored types, and the armored reconnaissance platoon used PzA-19 type armored cars, the standard armored car of the archduchy, with four large tires and a two centimeter cannon and machine gun, armored just enough to be proof against rifle fire. The panzergrenadier were also equipped to standard, with Hagen bolt action rifles and support sections with anti-tank rifles and mortars.
>>
This was to be the minimum standard. After everything was the request entry for requisition- for “replacement and/or reinforcement.” Two spaces for it. From what you could read, there would be two allowances for additional materiel to improve or add onto the demi-battalion- depending on the expense required.

>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion. Any armor formation type upgrade or reinforcement is limited to a singular platoon- for example, if you wanted to replace both reserve type platoons with m/32s, that would take up both requisition slots. Improvements to infantry or light vehicles will apply to the whole of the formation for only one slot. An additional capability can also be requested in the slots.

It took little time, sitting by the river, to think of what you wanted, though filling out a paper felt as though you might not get exactly what you wanted by the end of it…

When you returned to the manor, Maddalyn was awake- though she hadn’t changed out of her pajamas, as she waited in a sunny side room with tea and biscuits.

“I wasn’t sure when you’d be back,” she said when you came in and greeted her, “But I thought you would be. Where did you go?”

“Attending to business of the army and planning some invitations to send out,” you said, “It’s mostly done, now.”

“Invitations to who?” Maddalyn asked quickly. You told her. “People from Sosaldt…” she wrinkled her nose, “You remember what I said about that foul woman appearing, yes?”

“I did.”
>>
“Good.” Maddalyn sniffed, biting her lip and closing her eye, “Good.” She opened her eye once more, “I was thinking, Richter…you will be appearing in court in uniform, yes?”

“That seemed the most appropriate to me, yes.”

“Do you have a sword?”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “Hm.”

“The Von Tracht family sword, you have one, do you not?”

“It was sold off by my grandfather. We no longer have it, and I don’t know where it went,” you said, at least spared some shame by nature of it happening before you were even born.

Maddalyn frowned, and shook her head. “That won’t do. If you appear in court uniform without a sword, you’ll be mocked. You’ll have to get something.” She picked up a teacup as you sat beside her on the bench by the grand window, the rising sun bathing the room in a warm glow. “…Did you want to do anything, today..?”

You did have a few ideas…

>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
>Remain local. Roam about town- go to some places. (Like what?)
>There were some things you had to talk about…better to get it out of the way now. (?)
>Other?
Also-
>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
And, to make it more official-
>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
I don't know how I misremembered her as a countess
>>
>>5252509
>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion. Any armor formation type upgrade or reinforcement is limited to a singular platoon- for example, if you wanted to replace both reserve type platoons with m/32s, that would take up both requisition slots. Improvements to infantry or light vehicles will apply to the whole of the formation for only one slot. An additional capability can also be requested in the slots.
>Both the reserves to m/32s.
The older tanks won't cut it and it helps with logistics and won't make them reserves, but actual units.
>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
Maybe we can ask dad to whom the sword was sold to?
>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
And, to make it more official-
>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
But test the waters first and charm her with sweets.
>>
>>5252508
>>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion.
I'm not sure what kind of existing Strossvald equipment would best serve this role but one thing I would really like is a platoon of some sort of self-propelled artillery, like those we had on that IO operation. It can be something with just light guns, since my main idea for it is just to be able to deploy quick smoke screens to obscure enemy fire and shield our tanks as they maneuver. Something like mortars mounted in the backs of halftracks or trucks would even suffice, assuming it would be difficult to get our hands on proper self-propelled howitzers.

>>5252509
>>Remain local. Roam about town- go to some places. (Like what?)
Something fun and relaxing, maybe a drive to some nice cafes or interesting bookstores (hopefully with antique hand-written books that Maddalyn can read) or whatever happens to be around. I feel like we should have some more good times with Maddalyn before we bring up the difficult questions we need to ask.

>>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
We won't try and convince her to rethink her opinion of Anya, but I think it would only be fair to stress to Maddalyn how many times Anya saved our life and how much we depended on her while we were in danger. If Maddalyn truly cares for our safety, surely she can at least agree that Anya earned a place at our wedding for that alone? Allowing Anya to attend wouldn't be a sign of approval of her character, just a sign of how important our safety is to Maddalyn, and by extension anything that keeps us safe.

>>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
Yes, I think it would be fine to invite her as a companion to the King, or a representative of him assuming he can't come. Sure she nearly murdered our retinue and made us watch, but if anyone makes the connection then surely they'll just be impressed at how diplomatic and forgiving Richter is, to be able to turn even a hateful enemy like that into his friend?

>If you appear in court uniform without a sword, you’ll be mocked. You’ll have to get something.
For now I suppose we'll probably have to borrow a sword, but I'm wondering if we would be able to commission some master swordsmith to forge a new von Tracht family sword, now that we're lacking one? I don't know if Richter has the money for that now or maybe he can enter into a long-term payment arrangement for something like that, but it seems like an appropriate thing to do considering our status. We could also hire a private investigator to track down our old family sword, but that would probably take a long time with no guarantee of success, so ideally we would do both if money allows.
>>
>>5252509
>Requisition
I like the idea of Self Propelled Artillery. I especially don't want to put all our eggs in one basket with double M/32 requisition. However, I think it might be ok if we use just one slot to upgrade to M/32's. Having light tanks around isn't a bad thing, they have their uses, and might even participate in proper tank combat depending on our foe. I thought maybe we could equip our pgrens with LMGs, but I don't think superior infantry has been all that important? Well, we do tend to operate in some urban conditions, and I could definitely see that being in the case in the Blumlands, so perhaps a supply / conversion of troops to SMG / close quarters troops might be wise. Also either a conversion to or addition of APC's could be a very nice addition. The more I think about it, the more I think we should pass up on converting the reserves to M/32's, but I'm not sure if people are going to want to pass up the tonks. If anyone is willing to vote with me on one of these, I'd be happy to join them, but for now:
>Self Propelled Artillery (or mortar halftracks or their equivalent if SPG's aren't available)
>One Platoon of reserves upgraded to M/32's

>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
We have business with our parents, and surely it wouldn't be so bad for Maddy to visit again and also get away from Mathilda and spooky business.

>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
I would say be careful and light about it, stressing that at the end of the day it's her choice, but I like >>5252527's approach of showing what Anya did for us and that it's owed.

>Bar Duchess Kamilia
I'd rather not let knowledge of our humiliation spread around the Blumlands and Strossvald court if we can prevent it. If they somehow already know to some extent, then bringing her here would only exacerbate that. And that's to say nothing of how Maddy would react to this kind of spiritual thing at her wedding. I bet she might like it even less than Anya being there. I don't think there's any benefit to bringing her really besides anons getting to see Emma again, and especially not for Richter, just a whole heap of downsides.
>>
>>5252509
>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion.
I might be talking out of my ass here, but do we have the kind of authority to tear apart a reserve platoons' tanks and mate them with the 8cm guns of the support gun platoon, assuming the stripped down m/28 or LT-24 chassis are suitable in the first place?
Failing that, upgrade a single reserve unit to m/32s (I cannot remember the layout of the LT-24 right now, so keep whichever of the two is more sustainable in the mean time, probably the m/28s) and support >>5252527's suggestion of giving the panzergrenadier mortar-integrated trucks.
>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
See parents and dog
>Other
Make a phonecall to Von Metzeler, congratulate him on his engagement, tell him about our time with the Lances and ask him the best place to look for a sword at short notice in the capital.
>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
Again supporting >>5252527 here. Maddy ought to be brought up to speed on Anya's contributions to keeping Richter grounded and safe, even if the chances of that persuading her to make an exception for the wedding don't make it through.
>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
Play it off as a show of good faith towards the Duchess.
>>
>>5252582
Surely dedicated SPG's would be better both in effectiveness and logistics than sticking infantry support guns on a bunch of vehicles?
>>
>>5252576
I'll support using the other request for APCs for the infantry. The Netillian Guards units we faced seemed to be extremely effective with their tactics of mobile infantry combined with aggressive use of smoke concealment, so I think it would be a good idea to try to recreate some of those tactics.
>>
>>5252586
Of course, assuming we can get them. The Lances are the Archduchy's foremost elite amoured unit with funding imaginable, meanwhile we're presently at step 0 of assembling a territorial lord's experiment. I don't know exactly how available the Lances SPGs are to the greater army at present, if at all, I'm just trying to work with what's explicitly listed.
Our talk with the engineer earlier made it clear the territory is lacking in 8cm guns in general and m/32 chassis aren't expendable enough to convert, so our choices for heavier self propelled guns are somewhat limited to sticking 8cm/5cm cannon on reserve vehicles, otherwise.
>>
>>5252524
Changing my
>Both the reserves to m/32s.
to
>Upgrading reserve chasis to SPG's.
>>
>>5252576
changing
>One Platoon of reserves upgraded to M/32's
to
>Acquire APC's
not sure if this would replace the trucks or be an addition to the unit
>>
>>5252509
>two requests
I like the idea of some self propelled artillery, hopefully they don't double charge us for the gun and the platforms though. For a second request I like the idea of trying to get some self-loading rifles for the whole battalion, maybe with a submachinegun section for spice.
>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
We can probably pick up some sweets there too before heading to the house. I also don't want to risk stumbling into any courtly intrigue until absolutely necessary, so this visit home may be the last break for some time.
>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
The comrade in arms angle is good, but I think we also want to mention Anya's connection to Hel as a sort of extended family. She was part of the Iron Hogs that made up Hel's legacy and someone he personally interacted with a great deal. The Von Tracht family is so small right now, and I want Anya there as she represents some of the last pieces of the Von Tracht legacy.

I understand it is not going to be easy to get Maddy to let make a compromise like this for what is her wedding day too. If it helps at all we could try setting up a bar and food area away from most of the ceremony in hopes of keeping Fluffy engaged with the stuff she really likes while not being overly present in the proceedings.

>Allow the Duchess to attend
I feel like the King can determine if its a good idea to have her go. I am not sure about the procedure of these Royal invitation so leaving it open ended may be for the best.
>>
>>5252509
>Remain local. Roam about town- go to some places. (Rent-a-car and take the little woman around town, maybe to a bakery to pick up some apple...something, then just drive her down some scenic routes.)
>There were some things you had to talk about…(Doesn't have to be right now, maybe during the drive about, but Richter outta ask Maddalyn about the underground, and what Mathilda told her about.)
It'll nice, butter her up with a good time and nice sweets, then try to take some time to have some real talk.

>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
Ask her what would need to happen for her to change her mind. Anya, whether she likes it or not, is family and will be around in the future regardless. If there's anything we can do to help heal the rift, we wanna know. Don't push her, but make sure she knows it would mean a lot to Richter to see Anya there.

>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
Do it! Do it! Do it!
>>
>>5252509
>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion. Any armor formation type upgrade or reinforcement is limited to a singular platoon- for example, if you wanted to replace both reserve type platoons with m/32s, that would take up both requisition slots. Improvements to infantry or light vehicles will apply to the whole of the formation for only one slot. An additional capability can also be requested in the slots.
Upgrade the infantry with mortars.
Upgrade the light vehicles to anti-infantry, with faster engines, lighter guns, and heavier plating.

>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
Ask where the sword is.

>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
Now Maddalyn, I work hard to provide for this family. She is my retinue. I am the man of this house and as the man I order you to give me permission to have her at our wedding.

>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
Allow
>>
>>5252732
>"The panzergrenadier were also equipped to standard, with Hagen bolt action rifles and support sections with anti-tank rifles and mortars."
The infantry already has mortars, and except for the trucks, the vehicles already have MG's. Idk what a "lighter gun" would even be here that's able to be mounted on a vehicle.
>>
Honestly I have no idea why inviting the Duchess is a vote at all, considering Richter should know her mere presence will put him in trouble with Maddy since she'll know about him directly going against her instruction regarding these spirits and put her in an awful mood, and I'm also quite stumped at the mountain of support the option is getting. Literally nothing can go right with this option, the stars would need to align for things to not go quite wrong, and I'm trying to wrap my mind around why people are voting for it.
>>
>>5252509
>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion. Any armor formation type upgrade or reinforcement is limited to a singular platoon- for example, if you wanted to replace both reserve type platoons with m/32s, that would take up both requisition slots. Improvements to infantry or light vehicles will apply to the whole of the formation for only one slot. An additional capability can also be requested in the slots.

Convert one platoon to m/32s and the other to SPGs using the reserve chassis (like the Wespe or Hummel for example)

This is way down the line but I assume in the future we'd probably have another Requisition Point system for our demi-battalion? A pretty cool part of the Ellowie arc was watching our unit grow and upgrade over time by doing stuff.

>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?

Need to visit the folks after all. Asking after the sword (and maybe paying Von Walen a visit after if dad knows who it was sold off to) would be good as well.

>Anya
I'll defer to other anons on this.

>Duchess
Rather not have her.
>>
>>5252743
>Idk what a "lighter gun" would even be here that's able to be mounted on a vehicle.
Flamethrowers.
>>
>>5252760
I guess, but I really don't think we want to be equipping flamethrowers at scale in friendly territory. It might even be a decrease in overall anti-infantry effectiveness given their limited range, it's more of a situational weapon that something you put on every light vehicle you have.
>>
>>5252763
it's more of a situational weapon **than** something you put on every light vehicle
>>
Also came across this pic but this could possibly be the sort of structure we eventually want to work towards, with a few additions of our own (such as SPGs at the battalion level for example)
>>
>>5252763
We could put them on half of the vehicles, while keeping faster engines and heavier plating on them all.

More specialized anti-vehicle weapons for the infantry would be nice
>>
>>5252779
Wait, this reminds me, we have no dedicated AA in our battalion, and that seems rather important. I would change my vote, but it's a bit late at this point. We should definitely make a note of it in the future.
>>
To be clear, the infantry do have their own mortars and machine guns and such, on the company level, and submachine guns on the nco/squad lead level. The rifles are just their standard arm. There is no need to equip them with company level support weapons.

>>5252800
>I would change my vote, but it's a bit late at this point.
I'm about to be off at work for the night so I'm not about to call things.
>>
>>5252815
Sure but I don't think I'd be able to convince enough new voters, and people tend to be unwilling to change their votes in significant enough numbers. My main worry is that I switch my vote to something that doesn't win and the one I originally voted for doesn't win. As such, I'd like to stick with my current vote to avoid a worse outcome.
>>
>>5252509
>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion.
I support SPG. For the other: tanq would this also be a way of getting devoted air assets?

>Remain local. Roam about town- go to some places. (Like what?)
Cheer her up before bringing up the big issues.

>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
She saved our life.
>Allow or bar the Duchess Kamilia (as she is known, at least) to your wedding in your invitation to Wladysaw?
It's going to be bad enough with Anya, I don't think a possessed person, especially since Maddy will know exactly what she is, is a good idea. Don't invite Emma.
>>
>>5252509
>>5252662
>>5252815
Well if we already have some indirect fire assets I think we may be better served mixing in missing capabilities. I will change my reinforcement request to some AA guns and some armored troop transports. Maybe we don't get the really big AA guns but hopefully there is a bofors analogue out there.
>>
>>5252800
If I'm not wrong I think it would generally be pretty uncommon for a maneuver battalion to be expected to provide its own organic anti-air assets. If you use the chart in >>5252779
as an example, the light AA is deployed at the regiment level and would then be distributed between the battalions as necessary by the regimental commander. I suppose this depends somewhat on Strossvald doctrine but I would assume that the reason we weren't given an anti-air detachment by default is because it's expected to be provided by whatever larger formation we're a part of. And I don't think Richter ever really had any experience which would lead him to think that more integral air defense is necessary.
>>
>>5252846
I disagree, I think there has been quite the experience demonstrating the effects of air power on an armored assault force, that being the ambush with Blind against the Nets. Ellowian CAS took out all three of the enemies heavy tanks, albeit at reduced mobility, but if they had been uncontested in the air they probably could have managed it anyway. I think I would miss those AA guns if Richter's formations ever had to deal with committed airstrikes even with distributed AA assets providing basic cover.
>>
>>5252858
I think what he's saying is that on a Battalion organization level, we aren't responsible for providing AA, the regiment we are under would be, and would provide it to us. I don't think he is saying AA is unnecessary at all.
>>
>>5252846
>And I don't think Richter ever really had any experience which would lead him to think that more integral air defense is necessary.

I generally agree with >>5252858 here, but also afaik our demi-battalion is supposed to operate as an independent unit just like the Lances from the rest of the army, so having our own organic support attachments is better than having to loan them from higher formations.

Anyways in general I would expect we'll be able to requisition more upgrades in the future so I feel anons shouldn't get too worried if some of the options doesn't make it in right now. Hence I think AA will be needed later on, it can be left alone for now in favour more pressing options.
>>
>>5252509
>>5252662>>5252836
Alright, after some advice from the war counsel, I will change my vote to convert some of the reserve into some SPGs, and if that still counts as only one I want as many armored trucks as they can give, final answer.

>>5252662
Also I want to change my Duchess vote to
>Bar the Duchess Kamilia
After some more consideration I think it is a bad idea to mix Fluffy and Maddy and the Duchess.

Sorry if this is confusing to keep track of.
>>
>>5252815
For the reserve tanks, are the m/28s the stock ones with the 25mm or the upgraded ones with the 37mm and new turret? Also what are the LT-24s equipped with again?
>>
>>5252509
>Upgrades
2 platoons of m/32s, keep the reserve tanks in storage for future conversions.

>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?

>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding? It probably won’t work…but you can try.
Richter's a faithful spouse, she doesn't need to feel threatened around other women.

>No to Duchess/Emma
>>
>>5252509
>You may write in two requests for your demi-battalion
APCs for the infantry and self-loading rifles.

>Raise the idea of going to the capital, to your house. You could take advantage of a personal flight there, couldn’t you?
>Try and convince Maddalyn to allow Anya at your wedding.
>Bar Duchess Kamilia
>>
>>5252527
>>5252582
>>5252653
>>5252758
One for m/32s, one for self propelled guns. Converted, presumably.

>>5252623
>>5252661
Armored transports, and tanks.

>>5252732
Beef up the light stuff.

>>5252835
More SPG.
>would this also be a way of getting devoted air assets?
It would not be. That's firmly out of your authority.

>>5252925
SPG conversions, and armored trucks.

>>5253087
Two m/32 ups.

So, it's looking like one for upgrading a platoon to m/32s, and the other for rigging up a special project to turn the tanks...into something else.

>>5252970
>For the reserve tanks, are the m/28s the stock ones with the 25mm or the upgraded ones with the 37mm and new turret?
The plain old ones with the 25mms. Only recently has the 28-31 upgrade kit started spreading through the territories.
>Also what are the LT-24s equipped with again?
A 20mm automatic cannon.

>>5252527
>>5252582
>>5252676
>>5252732
Bring in the ghost girl.

>>5252576
>>5252758
>>5252835
>>5253087
>>5253217
Keep away with that thing.

As for the rest, I think it'll do nicely to butter up Maddalyn first with a time about town, and then head home, no?

Writing.
>>
>>5252758
>This is way down the line but I assume in the future we'd probably have another Requisition Point system for our demi-battalion? A pretty cool part of the Ellowie arc was watching our unit grow and upgrade over time by doing stuff.

That was the rough idea, but as you said, that's down the line, and a ways off from now at best.
>>
>>5253749
You missed a "Bring in the ghost girl" vote >>5252524
Not that it matters.
>>
>>5253761
You know, that post is rather unclear on it. It looks like he just copy pasted the bottom three lines assuming it was all one prompt and answered the Anya prompt, but maybe he actually though just pasting the question to allow or bar was a vote? Even if it's the second, it's not entirely clear that he intended to vote for "allow".
>>
>>5253763
I don't think he'd be saying "I don't want them to come but test the waters first and charm her with sweets."
Why would you need to charm Maddalyn with sweets if you weren't trying to push for something, as opposed to leaving sleeping ghosts where they lay?
But again, it's not like it really matters either way. No ghosts allowed at the fun party.
>>
>>5253777
He's obviously trying to push for allowing Anya to come to the wedding. That isn't an answer you give to an allow/bar question, it's an answer to "how do you convince her" question.
>>
“Firstly,” you said, “I was thinking of treating you to some sweets. You’ve lived here longer than I. Do you have a patisserie you favor? A library?”

“Hmmm,” Maddalyn put her tea down, “I haven’t been to L’Ovation in some time…"

“In how long?”

Maddalyn wrung her hands in her lap. “I don’t like to go out in town by myself.”

“Too long, then,” you said, “You ought to get dressed. I’ve got a lot in mind to do today, even after this. You won’t mind taking a couple of days off of your work, will you? I want to drop by my home, today, if possible.”

“T-“ Maddalyn coughed, “Today? I’m not…” She straightened herself and took a breath, “That is…What I’m working on, I have to check on it at least once per day. So I’d like to accompany you, but…I can’t stay overnight, if you plan to yourself.”

“Your family has a private plane, do they not?” you said, “It shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

“No, it’s just that,” Maddalyn hesitated, “I do have to avoid lingering. That will be later, though,” She rose up, and motioned to a nearby servant, who picked up what she left on the table, “What should I wear, though…”

“How about an atom suit?” you suggested as a joke.

“A what?”

“Nothing.” A pause, “That wasn’t a suggestion, there.”

“Shush,” Maddalyn pushed you with a finger, “Wait in the foyer for me, I’ll be right there.”

When she did come around, Maddalyn had tied her hair into a ponytail and put on makeup, had donned a sky blue, greyish long coat that went down to her knees, a similarly colored skirt going to her ankles below that-the coat just open enough to reveal a medallion worn about her neck that bore her family emblem in silver and pearl. Her family seemed to prefer a cooler tone of clothing, you noticed.

“I can have us driven there,” she said, “Unless you would prefer to walk..?”
>>
“That would be nicer, I think,” you said, and took her by the hand, heading out the door. A nod to the halberd-wielding gate guards as you passed them, though you noticed as you went out that you were not allowed to travel by yourselves. A trio of not so subtly dressed soldiers trailed you as you went, though they did not deign to arm themselves as heavily as the bodyguards had in Strosstadt.

“This way,” Maddalyn pointed down the winding way that descended the hill the manor loomed over the city from, “L’Ovation is a branch of a famous Emrean Culinary Revolution, as he puts it. An eccentric person, but the more radical experiments of his remain in his home country. Here, the place has the courtesy to keep within good taste.”

Considering the “radical experiments” of Emreans included the Atom Suit, you couldn’t help but be a little curious. “What sort of things would be outside of good taste?” Haute cuisine wasn’t exactly something you were experienced in, anyways.

“Attempts to defy the laws of nature, or so I hear,” Maddalyn said, “Some are interesting. Sugar Fairies, weightless candy that’s made to float in the air somehow. Then there are the things like Saltless Sea Weave, Ten Fruit in Clams…things that seem more like wild flailing than anything. A strange fascination with the sea.”

They sounded rather strange to you, too. “Nothing like that here, then. Just good old pies and cakes and such?”

“Yes, thank goodness.”

L’Ovation stood out on the street, a place rebuilt to a different style than its neighbors, so that it looked distinct even before the eye was drawn to the hanging Emrean flag, a white poppy on red and blue. Wreathes of faux flowers coiled around facsimiles of marble pillars, themselves made of descending columns arranged in spirals, the windows made of panels of multicolored glass forming mosaics of abstract maidens dancing. Inside, the décor was similarly patterned as the exterior, with the floors and ceiling being loud expressions of clashing color while the walls and furniture were a pearlescent white of painted wood and stone, with the occasional streak of brass, polished steel, or brightly colored lacquer, while a seated man played a slow tune on a complicated instrument you didn’t remember, consisting of an articulated flexible middle and keys on either side, wheezing out a constant rhythm.
>>
The establishment itself was already busy, and more than a few eyes wandered towards the entry of one of the lord’s daughters- and perhaps more lingered at your odd visage, too, though nobody kept their gazes up once the escort following you came in. Though, the latter didn’t seem to make people nervous. One of the staff actually greeted a soldier, and they spoke as if they knew one another.
Immediately, an attendant guided you and Maddalyn to sit at a place that you could immediately tell was a place reserved for honored guests, and you wondered if Mathilda came here too, or if any of the other Von Blums did, considering it was the first thing on your fiancée’s mind.

Maddalyn knew the menu better than you did, and she easily rattled off an order for three items- Triple Liquer Tart, Apple Sorbet and Caramel Cream, and Honey Buttercream torte- a trident of sweets that you were hesitant to think of adding to, so you merely requested the same.

All this did have an added purpose, though. You needed Maddalyn happy- for something you thought to suggest, that she’d need to change her mind on in order for it to pass. If she wasn’t in a good mood, there wasn’t even the slightest chance that she’d hear it, and it would upset her for you to even speak of it, so firm was she on her preemptive decision.

The first round came out quickly enough, along with tea.

“What you usually have here, then?” you asked Maddalyn.

“Mmhm,” she nodded, “Well. The first, anyways. Because they’re surprises, but fun ones. They never use anything strange. Always a sweet liqueur in each of these.” The tarts themselves were squares of fondant atop of sponge cake, with three bundles of sugar encrusted berry arranged in between them, forming a circle of sugared delights for each of you. The first for you was clearly chocolate, though its exterior didn’t betray such- then after that, some sort of ginger, and finally, a mysterious, floral sort of sweetness that lingered, that tempted you to wait and savor it before you cleaned off the plate.

“…So,” Maddalyn said, eating far slower than you had been, “You’ve not been speaking much. What are you thinking of?”

“Well,” you thought a little more on how to say this, “I was hoping that I could convince you to reconsider something.”

“I can’t leave for longer than an evening, Richter. I’m sorry. I want to be with you, but, this project is important to me. Important to us.”
“It’s not that,” you said, “It’s something else.”

Maddalyn looked up at you, with a questioning glance. “Whatever is it, then?”
>>
“There’s a guest I want to have at our wedding,” you said, “Somebody who I think deserves to be there. She’s saved my life like you have, been nothing but a staunch ally. She’s my deceased uncle’s adopted daughter, practically. A part of my family. Your family, soon. A family that’s too small already. For all she is, all she’s done, the time she’s been there to support me, so I can be with you…doesn’t she deserve to be there, to not be so scorned?”

Maddalyn’s eye half closed, and she set down her treat, turned her chin up. “Ah. Her.”

“Anya, yes,” you said, “I know the two of you had a bad start, but, couldn’t we come to some sort of arrangement? You won’t have to meet with her if you don’t want to. She knows who not to bother.“

“It’s not that,” Maddalyn said firmly, “Who is she, to you? Tell me truly. Do you like the way she looks? I don’t know such things…is she attractive?”

“You needn’t be intimidated by other women, Maddalyn,” you waved your hands, “I am plenty faithful.”

Maddaly shook her head. “I don’t doubt it, but, it’s…because…” She swallowed, “I don’t like it. I don’t like how much she shares with you. How she’s been by your side longer than I have. Far longer. I’ve been here, and she’s been by you all this time. Fighting by you, and with all your people…it feels as though she is so much closer to you than I am. Like what I have with you does not even approach what you two have. For our wedding…I don’t want anybody who’s closer to you than I am. I want it to be my day. Our day. So tell me truly who she is to you, everything. How you feel about her. If she’s too much…I don’t want her there. She’ll have you back whenever you go again, but nowhere else.”

>?
>>
>>5254131
She's my retinue.
>>
>>5254131
She's family. Sure they're not related by blood but she's more or less Richter's uncle's adopted kid so treat it like she's a cousin of his. As for their closeness, comrades will look out for each other on the battlefield, family even more so.

Those bonds are deep yes but those aren't romantic ties. The only one is Richter's heart is Maddy, and no one else.
>>
>>5254131
It would be lying to say Richter doesn't think Anya is attractive, but any non platonic feelings end there.
Anya is Richter's cousin, is the closest thing Richter has to a sibling, and quite frankly Richter's best friend. To not have her there would be deeply sad.

As for all the time Richter and Anya have spent together compared to him and Maddalyn, I feel it's important to express how deeply Richter wants that to change.
There wasn't a moment back in the front lines where Maddalyn was far from his thoughts. He even missed having her on the battlefield with him, not because of what she could do, but for the companionship. So much so, Richter even offered to take Maddalyn with him the last time they met, but she declined.
He wants to be with and love Maddalyn more than anything. To have her back through every aspect of life just like he knows Anya has his back on the battlefield.
>>
>>5254131
>>5254167
Also tell Maddalyn we have a man Anya is interested in coming to the wedding, so Judge willing we can possibly see if we can hook that shit up.
Talking about her like a little sister we need to look out for at times or like she's Hilda should help things.
>>
>>5254167
>Anya is Richter's cousin, is the closest thing Richter has to a sibling, and quite frankly Richter's best friend.

Lol I get what you mean but the last one is kind of a pretty low bar. Right now he has quite a few acquaintances and comrades, but I wouldn't call those bonds while close exactly equivalent to friendship outside of battle.

Now that we're away from war for a while we should really get Richter to deepen his relationships with the people who've been here since the beginning.
>>
>>5254131
We are close to her, we can't deny that, but not as a man and a woman. Truthfully we hardly think of her as one; considering her behavior she's probably one of the least feminine human beings we know of, men included. If anything she's family to us, like a rowdy cousin who's almost as good at getting us into trouble as getting us out of it. She can certainly be a handful at times, but not for sexual or romantic reasons. We don't see her that way and we never will.
>>
>>5254182
>Lol I get what you mean but the last one is kind of a pretty low bar.
Yeah, but it's still true, which in and of itself is sad, but kinda why having her there is so important to Richter.
Richter doesn't have friends.
He has no Krause to his Rondo or a Hans to his Stein.
Tons of comrades and acquaintances he cares about sure, but his go to hang out person is Anya...or Mal.
But can you really call Mal of all people Richter's best friend?
Richter can't even really understand him.
So Anya is the person that defacto fills that spot.
>>
>>5254167
>>5254178
+1, this is all great
>>
>>5254131
Anya is a retinue, a comrade-in-arms, a friend, and the last bit of the Von Tracht Family that went to Sosaldt and did not return. It is true she has been there to support Richter on the battlefield in person longer than Maddy, but let us not forget what Maddy has contributed as well. The scarf that has been with Richter at all times since he got it in Ellowie, the tank given to us in trust to keep us safe in Sosaldt and Netilland, not to mention the magical armor and shot entrusted to us that saved Richter's life maybe four times over. Anya is a good tanker, but she doesn't have any say when the chips are down and the shells start finding their marks.

There has still been am imbalance though like >>5254167 says. But I think it will make Maddy happier if the two parts of Richter's life, his life at home and his life on the battlefield, do not stay in conflict with each other. Maddy should not have to worry about her domain being the home and Anya's the battlefield, she deserves to have confidence that she comes first no matter what. For that to happen I think Anya needs to be a part of Richter's life off the battlefield, even just a little bit, to show that both of these people are part of both aspects of his life.
>>
>>5254131
>(?)
Anya... Is a pain in the ass. A wall I've run up against so often I'm starting to think we recognise every brick in it. She's an ever evolving spread of eggshells for me to walk over, too close to walk around. A loose thread inherited that doesn't do either of us any good to pull against.
But, that's not all she is. That thread, unseemly and unwelcome as it may have been to start, remained, and gradually began to weave it's own colour into my life, arguably as much as has my crew or other comrades claimed along this journey.
When shorn of wit and besieged in mind by terrors imagined and manifest, Anya, among those comrades, were there at my side to anchor me: A tether to the life before, a firm reminder of the goals we strived towards and for whoms sake I fought. To assuage my fears and share the pressures of command, as a hand works to spare the burden of a broken back. We were, together, parts of a greater whole. Comrades.
And now, looking ahead as those summed threads of my life are due to intwine with that great tapestry of fate that is the Von Blum legacy, seeing what progress I've made in perspective, would you deny that thread, now as pervasive and integral as any other a place in the joining? Anya has paid her loyalty back to me in spades during her service as a trusted retinue, in spite of how much we might strain one another. Please don't do her the disservice by thinking I cling to her merely as some relic of my uncle's life, or as a secret object of untoward affections. If blood shed is a valuable measure of fealty then she's practically a blood relative already.
So, how about one day, when I've made sure the last of the wars are all done, I'll hang up my horsehair, put the battlefield behind me and wish my comrades and retinue their farewells, but, until then, until that world seems fit to break it's spell over my heart, would you think about keeping a space open in yours for Anya?
>>
>>5254131
>I don’t want anybody who’s closer to you than I am
I wonder if she thinks this way of our parents too. Or our battle comrades. Anya is not closer to us than our parents, that's definite.
>>
>>5254140
>>5254146
>>5254167
>>5254230
>>5254185
>>5254280
>>5254329
>>5254780
Alright. Quite some stuff to get across.
I won't dissect everything from everything in response, but I'll try and get the general feeling across as well as some other things.

Writing.
>>
Eyes might have been upon you, but no other ears were listening. A soft bustling of clinks and mild conversation kept what you had to say from leaving your booth.

“I won’t deny that we’re close,” you said, “But it’s not what’s between a man and a woman, like you and I, it’s like old family. Like she’s my cousin, that last remnant of a memory that ventured away and never came back. Maybe we aren’t related by blood, but if blood shed from fealty is worth what is in the body, then she’s earned blood relation by that much alone. Anya is attractive, yes, but she’s a comrade, my friend, not an object of desire. She’s the closest thing I have to a sibling, that I’d never had. She has my back, and I have hers, because she gets into trouble as much as she gets me out of it. She anchored me, kept me safe, in the worst times like my other comrades have. She’s not you, though. I wanted you beside me then, even if you didn’t want to come along, even if it wasn’t reasonable to drag you to battles. Even still, the tank you gave me has also saved me time and time again, and your scarf was around my neck to remind me of what was waiting. I don’t want you two to be separate parts of my life, one for battle and the other for home. I don’t want to have to choose between war and the hearth. I want you both, and even though Anya is my blood and brethren,” you closed loosely on your hand, felt the scar she placed upon it, “Her bond with me is not that of a wife. You are. You’re both part of my life, and you share no place as my dearest love. There’s no need for conflict. Anya and I have each other’s back, and that’s why I want you and her to have each other’s to. That’s what she is to me, and who I am to her. I won’t try and force the issue, but it’d be terribly sad to not have her at our wedding, for all she’s done for it. Our relationship has changed since its rocky start, and yours can, too. To only have her allowed in one part of my life, like you feel that you’re only allowed. I don’t want that. I want you to be part of it all- and so that means the same for everybody. That’s what I think.”

Maddalyn closed her eye slowly, looked down, then opened her eye to glance the other way, a tight frown and a glower like she was searching for some reason to speak disapprovingly. Yet she clicked her tongue and exhaled slowly. “If that is the way you feel, then…fine. You can invite her if you wish. I won’t associate with her. But I don’t want to take anything from you. Remember that. This isn’t for her. This is for you. So I expect her to be no trouble, no matter how rowdy her nature is.”
>>
“Thank you for considering it.” What a load off your shoulders…for now. There was a lot of work left to do if things were to improve, but this was at least an allowance to go forward. Hopefully, also, a clearance of any awful misunderstandings. “She knows how to restrain herself, don’t worry. You were there when we were first getting to know each other, but she isn’t actually uncompromising. In fact…I’m rather hoping another guest comes, as he’s a man I think she’s interested in.”

“I can’t imagine how anybody could be interested in such a crude and violent natured waif,” Maddalyn said scornfully, drinking her tea, “She comes from nothing, and acts utterly unladylike.”

“There is no need to be mean,” you said in defense of your retinue, “But it is true that she is unladylike, certainly…” Though perhaps Edelschwert was ladylike enough himself to make up for her.

“You say she is like a sibling, though…a sister, despite being a cousin…” Maddalyn scooped up some raspberries on a spoon and pecked at them thoughtfully. “I suppose I can get used to another sibling in law…”

That make you think of Mathilda again. You were no closer to asking what she had demanded you ask…and you had no idea when you’d want to do that. Most certainly not now, after extracting a concession from Maddalyn she absolutely didn’t want to take, and was still barely hiding smoldering over.

The rest of the outing was pleasant, at least, as you tried to warm Maddalyn more to the idea of Anya being around by talking about what trouble she could be sometimes, and when she had shown a softer side, as well. Though you said not a word about what happened when both of you got drunk, of course.

Afterwards, you returned to where you could call from a Von Blum phone, with all the perks a territorial line had for communications, and told your father you would be coming around soon. You also tried to contact Von Metzeler, yet…you weren’t sure where he might be. His home? Or at his fiancée’s home? A call to his residence was rudely answered and curtly dismissed, and you didn’t recall what Von Metzeler’s fiancée’s name was…ah well. You would find out in time.
>>
Arrangements made, Maddalyn had the two of you driven out to a flat field, where it became clear that an airstrip was, with a town beside it of not insignificant size.

“This was built by the Capital,” she said as she pointed a finger out the window from her seat beside you in the cat, “the Imperial Gate is indefensible without aircraft, they decided…though I’ve heard the fighter pilots are some of the rowdiest and most troublesome people that can be found. So that town right there is the only place they can be without special permission for good behavior. They are quite skilled, I hear, though, so they’re worth the trouble.”

The hangars made themselves more apparent as you came closer, as well as what seemed to be aircraft that were not part of any military structure, though they were defended all the same by a garrison with anti-aircraft cannons.

“Do these belong to the Von Blums? The planes, I mean,” you asked.

“No, they are leased by the Capital,” Maddalyn said, “Though the personnel are all ours. The defense of the Imperial Gate is the defense of the Archduchy, after all, even if I don’t know the details of it all.”

“I see,” you squinted towards the field, trying to see better what might be hiding in the shadows of the hangars. You knew nothing about fighter planes, not that you could remember…but you hoped what was in there was good. You’d gotten to experience both sides of the influence of air power recently, and you were of the opinion that you’d much rather have air superiority on your side, for a certainty.

The car was driven up to a hangar containing a few twin engine transport planes, painted white and resplendent with chrome and brass fittings. Beautiful planes clearly engineered for luxury- and perhaps, speed and comfort. Maddalyn wouldn’t be coming with you, but she would be seeing you off.

“Don’t be gone long,” Maddalyn said as she reached her arms up in an unspoken plea, and you lifted her up by her waist, and put a kiss on her lips as she was squeezed into you. “I still want you for as long as I can have you for.”

“Me too,” you said with another kiss to her lips, and a careless slip of a hand around her to push your fingers into the flank of Maddalyn’s behind, “Don’t tire yourself out too much in your work.”

-----
>>
The airplane was quite a comfortable one- the coziest one you’d ever been on, but to be fair, you hadn’t flown on many at all. You could count the amount of times on one hand- your right one. Without the prosthetics.

Hilda would apparently be waiting to retrieve you once you arrived- something that made you a little wary, but mother and father were both busy and she wasn’t. Perhaps you’d see whomever this mysterious man she was hanging out with was…

…Unfortunately, you saw who he was immediately, beside Hilda, who had no mask on, surprisingly, and beamed brightly to see you again in that way her subdued expressions gave very little clue towards.

A shorter man than you, though not as short as Von Walen, still only up to Hilda’s eyes, about. He had the same sleazy smile he wore when you last saw him, as though nothing had happened to him and nothing mattered, a whorl of brown hair atop his head and curious amber eyes. He sauntered up with his arms swinging enthusiastically before spinning in place and making a phony bow before you.

“If it isn’t Richter Von Tracht,” Gerovic’s strangely unaccented voice seemed to mock you with how amicable he acted, “Long time no see. You’ve changed your look, I see, eh? Ha ha. How nice to see each other again, isn’t it?”

>Punch.
>…Yes, how nice. Whatever. He was in the Archduchy’s service now. A different man, practically. Ignore him. He could pester you if he wanted to.
>There was no need to share any words. Ignore him and go to Hilda.
>Other?
>>
>>5254987
>Other
Sigh deeply.
To Hilda: "And what is *he* doing here?"
>>
>>5254987
>…Yes, how nice. Whatever. He was in the Archduchy’s service now. A different man, practically. Ignore him. He could pester you if he wanted to.
No need to be out right rude or violent. From what we heard, he's in part responsible for getting at least most of our boys outta that IO mission. And we have no one to blame but ourselves for his continued existence. Should have tank dueled him to the death when given the chance if we hate him so much.
Anyway. Hilda Time!
>>
>>5254987
>…Yes, how nice. Whatever. He was in the Archduchy’s service now. A different man, practically. Ignore him. He could pester you if he wanted to.
>>
>>5254995
>Other?
Sigh.
How did you and Hilda meet?
>>
>>5254987
>There was no need to share any words. Ignore him and go to Hilda.
>>
>>5254987
>>There was no need to share any words. Ignore him and go to Hilda.
>>
>>5254987
>Punch.
>>
>>5254987
>…Yes, how nice. Whatever. He was in the Archduchy’s service now. A different man, practically. Ignore him. He could pester you if he wanted to.
Does Gerovic have any dehumanising IO designations that we can refer to him by instead of his real name?
>>
>>5255002
>>5255026
>>5255189
Blow him off one way.

>>5254995
>>5255028
Blow him off another way. Sort of.

>>5255043
>>5255130
Pretend he doesn't exist.

>>5255167
Give him a whack.

Writing.
>>
>>5254987
>There was no need to share any words. Ignore him and go to Hilda.

Best chance of Hilda giving him a chance is to not engage with him at all.

Besides he gets off on rankling people
>>
“…Yes, how nice,” you said dully after a heavy sigh, weighing whether or not you should just ignore him. You went on to Hilda without slowing another step. “Hello,” you said to her, “It’s good to see you’re doing alright.”

Hilda was looking plenty healthy. Despite the condition of her face, her hair was straight and well groomed, and she was warmly dressed in a grey wool sweater and trousers. With how loose her clothes were, it wasn’t clear that she was pregnant- but that might change soon enough.

Hilda looked down, then back. “Yeah. You’re not hurt, are you.”

“Not right now, no,” you gestured to Gerovic, “What is he doing here? How did you even meet?”

“He just showed up one time.” Hilda said flatly, “He follows me around.”

“Do you want him to go away?”

“No. He’s not any trouble.”

“I’m right here if you want to talk to me, you know,” Gerovic slid up beside both of you, “We have so much to catch up on, don’t we?”

“Hilda and I do, yes,” you said with a curt edge. Just because this man wasn’t your enemy anymore didn’t mean you wanted to associate with him. “You don’t have a name I can call you besides your actual name, do you? An agent name, perhaps? Like Louse? Or Flea?”

“I’ve plenty names I go by,” Gerovic smirked at you and took a wide swinging step away from you and towards Hilda, “But they’re not appropriate to repeat in front of this gentle woman. So, Hilda, are you going to tell him the good news, or am I?”

“Later.” Hilda said, edging away. “I wanted to ask. There’s…”
>>
“Come on now,” Gerovic put a hand in the small of her back and pushed her forward, “You won’t even ask him for a hug now that he’s back? You talk about him fondly enough. Have some confidence.”

Hilda did no such thing, though, and wound her arms around nobody but herself. “I wanted to know if we could go get tea or something. Before you went back to the house. I wanted to talk. Besides, your father won’t be back for some time…”

“Is he going to stick around?” You stuck a thumb towards Gerovic.

“Not if you don’t want him to.”

“Tch, so greedy with the women, herr Lieutenant,” Gerovic’s merry tone went nowhere, “You Strossvald nobility are so tightly wound. No hug, no embrace, not even a shake of the hand? Aren’t you happy to see her again? Show some appreciation, for God’s sake. Take her dancing or something, as friends. You’ve got clubs like that in this smoky old city, don’t you? Old people have done plenty of waiting, more won’t kill them. That’s what I think, anyways. If you’re just going to head home, I’ll take Miss Glennzsegler off your hands. Making her wait for you to meet your parents is hardly any way to treat someone like her, don’t you think?”

Frankly, you didn’t think this was any of this man’s business. Though Hilda was waiting for an answer…

>Tea was never a bad thing. Even for the third time in the day. Besides, you preferred a calmer setting… (Talk about what?)
>Ask Hilda if she’d like to do something more active. Maybe the annoying man had a point…especially if it would take until later to have everybody at home anyways.
>You wanted to hurry home, but if Hilda wanted to do something else in the meantime, you wouldn’t trap her at home. Somebody else seemed plenty interested in keeping her attention, after all…for better or worse.
>Other?
>>
>>5255292
>Tea was never a bad thing. Even for the third time in the day. Besides, you preferred a calmer setting… (Baby talk, her cooking and reading skills, if she's found a man yet, her attendance at the Wedding, and if she's encountered anything spooky since the last time Richter came around. Besides that share some fun war stories and ask if she knows anything about the Forest Deer spirit Richter helped kill.)
>>
>>5255294
+1
>>
>>5255294
Seconding
>>
>>5255292
>Other?
Ask to drink whiskey from the jar.
>>
>>5255294
Supporting
>>
>>5255294
>>5255299
>>5255309
>>5255360
Tea and a talk.

>>5255316
I do not understand.

Writing.
>>
>>5255715
I just want to drink a bottle of delicious bourbon. Brownest of the brown liquors.
>>
“Tea is never a bad thing,” you said to Hilda and not the strange hanger on, “We can go before I head on home, yes,” Reading emotion on Hilda was a difficult thing, but you felt that you could see some relief relaxing her. “You,” you said to Gerovic, “Don’t you have anywhere better to be?”

“Richter, my fellow windblown walker, I could be anywhere in the world,” Gerovic straightened his back confidently, “But there’s a lovely, lonely woman here. I’ll only feel good about myself if I know she’s being taken care of, you know?”

“I’ll be fine.” Hilda said to Gerovic, “You can come back later.”

“You know I will, blue eyes,” He took hold of her gloved hand suddenly and brought it to his lips and kissed it on the back, “Don’t forget about me too quickly, you hear?”

You squinted at Gerovic’s back as he practically danced away. “It’s hard to believe that that man was so feared by the Netillians,” you said to Hilda, “Were it not for his history I’d think that he was a complete fool. Has he been bothering you all this time? You said he just showed up?

“Yes.” Hilda reached for your arm, but stopped, and put her hands in her pockets, “Down there a few blocks…I saw that they have meat buns that I like. Learning to read means I don’t have to ask what’s on the menu. It’s nice.”

Ah, she was learning still. “That is nice. Nice to hear about.”

“My handwriting is awful. There’s still a lot to learn. At least it feels like I’m going somewhere.”

“Why do you let that man hang around you, anyways?” you pointed to Gerovic spinning in place to turn himself around a corner.

“I know. At first I thought he was one of those types. The kind that goes after ugly women to have easy fun. I’ve dealt with that before.” Her flat tone had a hint of scorn, “They aren’t that persistent though. Andrej wants to sleep with me, he isn’t exactly subtle about that. But he doesn’t care if the only thing I say is no. I guess he finds it fun either way. Besides. He has a lot of stories to tell. About how he sees certain things. He’s talked with Emma, told me how she looks. And…” Hilda let out a long and tired sigh, “Being knocked up is tiring. I’m lonely a lot of the time. It’s nice to have somebody around that isn’t trying to pamper you. I guess. I’ve learned my lesson about going too fast into something that feels good to me. I don’t think anything will come of it. At least, as long as I find somebody.”
>>
“Have you?” you asked as you waited to cross a street, scarce automobiles rolling slowly along in this less dense part of Strosstadt. “Found a man you like. Maybe somebody interested in you?” Besides Gerovic. Hilda shook her head. “I’ve tried seeing if any of my comrades in the Silver Lances might be.”

“So none of them were, I bet.”

“Well,” you scratched your head, “I think it was more that most of them are already accounted for, or they’re not the homebody sort.”

“I know what a mirror is, Richter,” Hilda said in her flat and raspy tone, utterly unsurprised and unoffended, “I don’t really know how you can convince anybody.”

“Your hunting skill,” you said, “That you’re looking for a husband. That’s enough for plenty.”

“Ugly. Scarred. Pregnant.” Hilda added for you, “Did you bring those up.”

Would it be rude to say that you had advertised her large bosom? Probably. “I did not.”

“Figured.” Hilda motioned to cross the road, “How’s Emma doing. She didn’t come back with you last time, and not this time either.”

“It’s complicated,” you said, “But I think she’s better. That she’ll do fine. She’s found somebody to…be.”

“I’d like to talk with her again,” Hilda said as you finished the crossing and turned towards the café, “Just around this next corner and straight down.”

“She’ll be in Ellowie,” you said, “The King’s cousin. The Duchess Kamilia Von Katski.”

Hilda looked behind and around you. “So she jumped in somebody.”

“Yes,” you admitted, “It was for the better, I think. Emma’s a better person.”

“So you think she’ll stay.”

“I think that’s how it is. Even though that’s not really how I wanted it to go. Or how Emma wanted it to go, but it’s just how it’s going to be.”

Hilda didn’t say anything for a minute. “I guess I should be happy for her. We talked a lot. About wishing for a new body. Or more like a new old body” She looked at her hands, opened and closed them, “But I have to live with this. Or else I’d be taking from somebody else.”

You halted any further conversation once you were at the café, and had ordered things and waited outside. The exterior of the café didn’t have proper seats- rather, it had tall half-booths to lean upon next to equally tall and spindly tables, shades over top of each pair of lounges.
>>
“My wedding will be in a few weeks,” you brought up as you leaned upon the stand near a tall table, “You’re invited, of course. I’m sure we can have you fitted for something proper to wear. Who knows, perhaps there’ll be an interested noble bachelor.”

Hilda didn’t look very amused by that scenario. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Maybe not. But I want you to be there.”

“Hm.” Hilda rolled to lean on her back, “That’s good enough then.”

“You said you weren’t feeling that well,” you said next, “You’re not sick, are you? Do things feel…normal?”

“I can feel them sometimes, now,” Hilda said, looking down, “I’m not that big yet…but I’ll get even bigger than I thought I was going to. I’m…having twins.”

“T-“ you coughed, “Twins? How do you know?”

“Andrej told me,” she said, “When we met. I don’t know how he knows, but he seems to believe it. He says he can see and feel things other people can’t. So I tried feeling more for it. I think he’s right.” She leaned further back and crossed her arms, “Twins…I thought I had a good name for a girl or a boy, but…I don’t know if I have two good names. I was thinking of naming them after my father or mother. That sounded right…” She looked down, “…Or after their father. I…I don’t want to think about that. But Andrej said that would be the right thing to do. That it wouldn’t do for me to hide from that. Even if…I helped kill him. Destroyed that future.” She sagged against that leaning booth, “It’s too late to reconsider it. But I don’t want to think about what could have been.” She looked to you, “Don’t say that you’re sorry. I’ve had time to think about this…and it won’t do me any good to regret it now. I’m alright.” She gave you a look, “What do you think. What do you want to name your children. Boy and girl.”

>You’d name them after your parents too, probably. Not very imaginative, but it did seem proper.
>Names with meaning to them. Those of people you’d met along the way, that you wanted them to be like. It wouldn’t do to keep even their names within the family… (Such as?)
>After historical figures, most likely. So they could look as high as they could go. Have an inspiration to be even beyond you. (What people?)
>Other?

Does Maddalyn get an opinion on this? Maybe. But this is yours.
>>
>>5255787
>Other?
I got...nothing.
I personally like the name Arnett for a boy...but there's literally no reason why Richter would use that name.
Regardless of what name is picked, I think it would be important to Richter that the kid is able to make that name their own, as opposed to naming them after someone and hope the kid take after their namesake.
>>
>>5255787
>>Names with meaning to them. Those of people you’d met along the way, that you wanted them to be like. It wouldn’t do to keep even their names within the family… (Such as?)
Raley and Viska. They fought for a better world, and made the greatest sacrifice possible for it. I think it would be right that the better world they fought for be memorialized in the next generation.
>>
>>5255787
>Other?
Lorelei for a girl and Humbert for a boy.
>>
>>5255787
My thoughts broadly align with >>5255797 in the sense of not specifically naming them after a specific figure in particular.

Much like Papa Von Tracht didn't stop Richter from chasing after the family legacy even if he disapproved so should Richter's kids make their own path in life rather than fill the image or legacy of someone else's, even if it would be nice to see them build upon what Richter has accomplished militarily.

So all that having been said:
Wilhelm for a boy, Frederica for a girl
>>
>>5255834
Though I guess if anons wanted to put in some kind of namesake that's what multiple middle names are for as far as aristocrats are concerned (like Maddy's own).
>>
>>5255798
>After historical figures, most likely. So they could look as high as they could go. Have an inspiration to be even beyond you. (What people?)

Not so much famous people, but the Von Tracht family history. Plenty of his family have fought and died for noble callings. I'd imagine Maddy also has ancestors she may want to venerate or emulate. If we feel particularly vindictive we could name a son Helman, but that seems cruel.
>>
>>5255834
+1
>>
>>5255768
While I agree that bourbon is delicious and also brown, Richter isn't much of a day drinker and an entire bottle would probably be a bit much. Plus bourbon by definition comes from America which I don't think exists in Richter's world, so this goal is probably impossible.
>>
>>5255787
>Other?
Bernhart and Sieglinde.
>>5256220
>this goal is probably impossible.
Let the man dream, anon. Gerovic has a thing for uncommon overseas liquors, remember? There might still be hope.
>>
No update for today, sorry. Just taking a bit of a break, plus I need to make sure to get enough sleep to wake up early next morning.

I think everybody who's going to has voted by now but I'm keeping it open until I write again out of principle.
>>
>>5256458
Speaking of names, would calling your kid Alexander be a taboo outside of the Reich?
>>
>>5256504
The short answer is yes.
The long answer is, mostly in countries with a history of being directly oppressed by the Reich. Emre, oddly enough, is not one of these countries, as the Reich's domination over it was a result of an invitation from closely related nobles of their courts to the Reich to adopt overlordship as a protectorate, and thus the cultural obliteration Alexander practiced was not done so there.

Twaryians extrapolate their oppression to the Ellowians- and thus they don't bear particular ill will to Alexander the Kaiser.

Most anywhere else in Sosalia, however, would consider it roughly as offensive to call a child Alexander as it would be to name your child in this day and age Adolf. Yes, the name itself is inoffensive, but even without the surname anybody with the name is going to get quite the questioning eyes.
>>
Sidequest for when we get back to the Blumlands: Have Maddy recommend us a bakery and prank order an Alexander birthday cake, it will be epic.
>>
>>5255797
>>5255834
>>5256058
A name must be one's own. An aversion to trying to set an expectation through a label.
Arnelmica.

>>5255798
Naming after dead people, but hopeful ones. Hopefully a daughter wouldn't go through the Viska experience before the ambition rises.

>>5255901
Look to the ancestors.

>>5255803
Lorebert.

>>5256255
Name the boy after your face and the girl after a fat dog.
Bernlinde.

On the subject of the actual names themselves and not the theme of them, I'm glad you all have such a diverse array of names, it guarantees when I pick one I'll upset everybody.
That's not how it's going to work out of course, but I'm seeing the bridge we'll have to cross and hoping that the other side isn't on fire.

Writing.

>>5257250
I am unsure who you would be pranking.
>>
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“I…don’t know,” you said, “It’s not as though I haven’t thought about it, but I don’t think I want to name them after anything, or anybody. I feel like that might make them lean towards that instead of forging their own path. That’s something my father wanted for me, so I want that for my own children.”

Hilda’s mouth turned the very slightest bit upward. She wasn’t somebody who put much into a smile. “Your father’s a good example. I don’t talk with him much. But he’s good.” She looked back towards the café an impatient little sigh, “Though with a name like Richter…”

“Well, it isn’t the same thing as Der Richter Uber Alles,” you sniffed, “It’s a completely ordinary name.”

“I didn’t mean that.” Hilda said flatly, “More that it’s a name for somebody who decides. I wonder if your father and mother thought about that that way.”

“Maybe,” you said, and waved to the waiter when he exited the building with a tray and looked about- you and Hilda were the only ones dining outside the place at the moment. “Though I guess I have time to be sure. Maddalyn has as much if not more say in the matter, after all.” A set of baked meat buns were placed before you, with a couple worn mugs full of tea with the bags still in- a pot of sugar and milk were both beside them. You picked at a meat bun- it was full of beef with a salty brown sauce, a nice, savory treat, small enough not to impose itself. “Quite nice.”

“Mmhm,” Hilda agreed, and in the time it took you to eat one, she had eaten three. Ravenously. “Your hand…”

“Ah,” you took off your glove on your right hand and flexed your prosthetics, “Maddalyn had it made for me. I’m still getting used to it, but I think I’ve gotten good at using it like a real hand.”
“I didn’t know that kind of thing existed.” Hilda stared at the metal joints as she reached for another meat bun- she was about ready to have eaten half already.

“I’m very fortunate,” you nodded and worked the fingers a few more demonstrative times before donning the glove again, “Though my shooting’s still very poor.”

“I could…” Hilda’s voice rose then fell, “Teach you…”

You noticed a hesitation there. “That’d be appreciated very much.”

“No. I shouldn’t,” Hilda leaned heavily on the table between you, “I know we. I mean, I…I’ve been a pain. Yet you keep coming back around. I used to dream of you. Nothing but. That’s stopped by now…I don’t want that coming up again. I don’t want to shove myself back on you again.”
>>
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said, noting her discomfort, “Though that doesn’t mean you can’t go on a hunt, right? I went on one while I was with the Lances. We were out of foodstuffs, and we had to procure more. I can’t hit anything as I am right now, but I could still track. I managed to find the biggest Thornbrush I’d ever seen. My loader, the Yaegir, he called it a Spirit of the Forest.”

Hilda scoffed at that. “Just a big deer. It bleeds. It has meat.”

“Could still be strange in that way,” you insisted.

“How big was it. Around the shoulders.” Hilda spread her hands out, “Like this.”

A shake of your head. “More like this.”

Hilda blinked. “That’s really big.”

“I think it might have fed the whole company,” you said with a reminiscent feeling of smug accomplishment, “Speaking of spirits, though, have you seen anything strange, lately?”
Hilda glanced around. “I went back to the woods where that catfish thing was,” she said lowly, “I didn’t find it at first. Though it had ripped up a lot of things, like it was mad. It dug underground again, and there was a burrow with strange spirits. I didn’t go down it. It was pretty deep in the woods, and when I looked at it again a couple of days later, somebody had filled in the hole. Besides that, no. I don’t think spirits don’t like cities like this. It’s not like Salzbrucke.”

“I see,” you said, a bit relieved but also concerned. The thing had gone to sleep or somewhere else apparently, but also, perhaps somebody had made it do so- then covered it up again. You hardly wanted whoever that might be investigating things more closely. Especially since that creature had spoken who knows what it might have said?

“I should ask your mother or servants how to make these,” Hilda said, “They don’t seem that hard to make.”

“How has your learning been going? Both for cooking and for literacy,” you said, noticing that if you picked out a second bun, it would probably result in you losing more fingers at the rate Hilda was eating.

She finished a bun before answering. “Good enough. It wasn’t that hard after I learned the sounds properly. Spelling is dumb. You say a word and you know what it means, nobody asks you to spell something once you’ve said it.”

“That is a matter of debate…” You said with a moment of consideration, biting back a critical protest. “You’re very hungry, aren’t you? Had you eaten yet today?”

“Uh.” Hilda looked at the empty platter. “No. Sorry. I’m just hungry all the time now.”

“We still have tea,” you said, “Don’t worry about it. You have three to feed right now, after all.”

-----
>>
Mother was overjoyed to have you back- and she had walnut cookies warm in the oven. Cut out in tree shapes, the same molds you remembered from as far back as you could remember. Though she wanted to dote on you…father looked rather serious, for some reason. Both of you were excused to go upstairs, to his office, where he closed the door after you and put his hands behind his back.

The office was a tight space, stuffed with files and papers, and a pair of lights. There were no windows- and a stuffiness was about the room from a lack of vents, a fan the sole climate luxury, and it was turned off.

“Richter,” Geroldt Von Tracht started off.

“Father,” you said back, “Is something the matter?”

“Yes. The matter of your trial, which has been so suddenly cast away.” He frowned, “Tell me, Richter. You didn’t take a deal, did you? Hide nothing.”

“No,” you said immediately, “I made no bargain for it. I was assigned a mission, and as a “reward,” I chose to raise my status in the Intelligence Office, rather than being a mere operative. After that happened, I was told that my charges were withdrawn.”

“I see.” Geroldt said slowly, deliberately. “Be careful, Richter. I would not have advised making that move. It prevents me from being able to help you in ways that I could if you were not deeper within that organization. For my own protection and yours.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That is necessary.” Your father said gravely, “Just know this. They may try and use you to get closer to me, to others. Don’t try and weave yourself deeper into what the Intelligence Office’s plans. At a certain depth of knowledge, you will become aware of extremely dangerous forces. Forces that do not want people to know who they are or what they intend to do, are doing. It has taken years of carefully planned moves to prevent your mother, you, and I from having an idle eye turned our way.”

“What should I do?” you asked, still clueless and dissatisfied, even if that was the intent of…whatever this was. “If this is so dangerous, I shouldn’t act blindly, should I?”

“On the contrary. Act as though I never told you any of this,” Geroldt said as he turned back to the door, “Act to a reasonable degree of suspicion. Perfect innocence is suspicious in and of itself. But do not bite at tempting bait. It is not laid to trap you.” He paused. “I apologize, Richter. This isn’t what you came home for. We can go downstairs and you can regale us with stories…but I want you to tell me you understand why I brought you up here and gave you no answers.”

>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.
>Now wait a minute. You might know more than he thought you did, and you could help…(?)
>Other?
>>
>>5257562
>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.
>>
>>5257562
>>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.
Do we know anything that could help? I can't think of it.
>>
>>5257562
>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.

Well until it inevitably blows up in everyone's face that is.
>>
>>5257562
>Now wait a minute. You might know more than he thought you did, and you could help…(?)
Does he know the IO did the Trance thing to Richter? Is there anything that we have to worry about as consequence of that?
>>
>>5257562
>Now wait a minute. You might know more than he thought you did, and you could help…(?)
The tank is alive. The creator of the tank has made others like it and the war is just a front to test its capabilities.
>>
>>5257562
>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.
>>
>>5257562
>>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.
>>
>>5257562
>Yes. You wouldn’t make trouble. At least, knowingly. Even if this was all terribly confusing. Diving to the depths of whatever mystery this was, was of no interest to you anyways.
If playing dumb keeps the folks safe then the best is to not get any smart ideas.
Uncle Hel blew the whistle on some catastropic joint glow in the dark/mountain rabbi spirit cooking operation and set them back a decade before they caught and disappeared him, now we're unwittingly undoing his work somehow and pushing the hands of the doomsday clock closer to midnight by larping around as a spook with an unstoppable demon tank while based Geroldt is busy shadowrunning everything, snuffing the legal fallout and trying to keep the plates spinning, we were actually the villain all along aaaaaaaa.
>>
>>5257562
>Other?
Mention the term 'Consuls' and let dad decide if we know too much or not. When he asks how we know that, just say we overhead some shadowy IO operatives mention the word once worriedly and only know it had something to to do with the Crown Prince.

It won't help us to hide our head in the sands if the organization that literally knows how to read minds and brainwash people eventually discover what we know. To be frank, in some regards we know far more than he does about topics that certain individuals BULLSHIT WIZARDS would blast our soul to pieces if it were to get out. Not to mention a very angry wife.
>>
>>5257572
>>5257622
>>5257623
>>5257669
>>5257688
>>5257698
Don't make any trouble. At least, any more trouble.

>>5257637
>>5257639
Grasping at theories.

>>5257837
Mention but a single word.

So, sometimes, when they aren't being relentlessly bullied by me for being, among other things, a nerd and a ginger, another qm will allow for some things to be answered if they're even brought up, no matter the majority, because part of the obstacle is figuring out what to even say.

This may be a case of that.

Writing.
>>
Mostly, overwhelmingly, you wanted to obey. The answers to a few niggling questions were not worth what was being warned of. So you wanted to say, yes. Despite how confusing it all was, you didn’t want to uncover what nobody wanted you to discover anyways.

Except.

You wanted to see just how deep a single word could get you- knowledge you should not have had, were it not for the strange machinations of the demiphantom, doing its best to grant your wishes of knowledge.
“I want to know but one answer,” you said, “Do you know of the Consuls?” A small correction, from memory, “The Consolum De Sortium-”’

Geroldt’s hand flew to your mouth and pressed firmly. “Do. Not,” he said slowly, “Ever. Say that name. A careless uttering of that would be as good as striking your own head from your shoulders.
“Hmmhm.” You said in muffled surprise, and the hand was released from your mouth, “But who are they, that they’d want so much to be hidden?”

“I don’t know, and I doubt anybody but them and their closest allies know.” Your father said scornfully, “Their influence stretches far, and nowhere. They work subtly, and do their best to hide that they even exist, their goals are unclear, but they will do anything to avoid being found out. Now, as I said. Keep your ignorance and hold onto it tightly, in regards to this. Your best defense is to ensure they do not see you as an enemy.”

You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes. Of course.”

“Good,” Father’s breathing calmed and his tone turned tired, as he slumped for the door, “Now…we can return to our normalcy. Hard fought for. Not worth losing, for you.”

Yet, you had to wonder, as you followed him back out and down the stairs, feeling as though the blood had left your cheeks, your extremities, leaving them cold and stiff. Was this organization related at all to soulbinders? The esoteric Mountain Lords, the Oblitares? It was impossible to say…but you felt that one person in particular would tell you. If he was inclined to.

“Father,” you interrupted the trip suddenly, thinking of something to distract those thoughts, “I’ve been thinking, of how we might recover the sword of Helman. Our family legacy in steel.”
>>
“Eh?” Geroldt turned and raised an eyebrow at you, “Now? Richter, when I told you of that, I was not exaggerating that it was lost. It was not even sold as a collector’s item or a curio. It was merely claimed by some ignorant junk grubber. To the uneducated, our family blade would merely be a worn old curved Netillian cavalry saber. It has been years. Why the sudden interest?”

“I am to have a court debut in the Blumsburgh Court in about a week,” you said, “I’ve been told that if I appear in court uniform without a sword, I would be seen as a fool.”

“…One week, hm,” Geroldt sighed, “Commissioning a new blade would be expensive, and the time needed to make one would be very close, even if you paid a premium to have it hurried at priority. I suggest renting one, or claiming an ordinary officer’s saber. It won’t be prestigious, but it will be better than nothing, and appropriate for a young officer.”

“The family blade though, father,” you insisted, “I am not merely some young officer. I think I’ve done enough to warrant a special image.”

Geroldt Von Tracht sighed, and drummed his fingers on a small table you were near, leaning over it. “I suppose I gave up my search prematurely, if only to not grow overly attached to a callously disposed curio rather than spending time with my family. In truth, it was Heller’s project to find that thing. He found out that nobody who would have known what it was had it. So the only options would be local resellers who know that it is something old, but not something of particular value or significance. It’s not a very good chance of finding anything, but it’s all there is after all this time. Unless you know a particular expert in the field of hunting for antiques.”

“…I think I know somebody,” you mused to yourself as you went back downstairs, though you considered your other options…

>A short and simple sword rental or a purchase of a common army issue blade would have to do. Anything else was chasing too far and too long.
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (?)
>The legacy of Richter Von Tracht wouldn’t be finding an old sword. It’d be going for a new one. And you had the resources to spend on such a thing now…didn’t you?
>Other?
>>
>>5258093
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (?)

Time to innocently enquire with our good comrade Von Walen! After all he does owe us slightly for not press-ganging him into the Lances....
>>
>>5258093
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (?)

Go track down our vertically challenged lieutenant
>>
>>5258093
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (Commission Von Walen to help hunt it down)
Till then thought.
>A short and simple sword rental or a purchase of a common army issue blade would have to do. Anything else was chasing too far and too long.
A temporary rental wouldn't be too bad right?
Richter, for all his talk of military legacy, never let the gossip or tradition of stuffy Nobility bother him before.
This matter has become personal, Richter wants HIS sword back.
>>
>>5258093
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (?)
Von Walen is in the business is he not?
So it's not really metagaming, because we know that he has a boner for collecting stuff.
>>
>>5258093
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (?)
It's not like we can't got and rent a sword anyways if looking for the sword doesn't pan out, right?
>>
Wouldn't Richter as an officer have a sword from when he was originally commissioned, or does Strossvald not give thise out?
>>
>>5258093
>Your family sword would be yours again, it had to be. And you were going to find it. (?)
You keep what you kill.
>>
>>5258093
>Other
All of the above. Rent a sword in case we don't find our family sword in time. Ask von Walen to help us recover the sword, but there's not too much pressure this way. And commission a new family sword to complement the old one, as it sounds like the old one was pretty plain and unimpressive looking anyway. But let the swordsmith take his time on it and make sure it's done properly (and hopefully a little more cheaply).
>>
>>5258093
Supporting >>5258171
>>5258448
Unless there's much significance in having a unique blade (the actual pointy choppy steel bit), we should be able to have a sabre blade blank produced cheaply enough.
If we are to have the sword decorated to look unique though, we might want to invest our money in a cutler to produce the fittings and furnishings of the sword, rather than comissioning the entire thing in one go from a lone smith and waiting a long time.
Decorated swords historically would rarely ever have been made from start to finish by the one bladesmith, but rather a set of designs would be passed between dedicated smiths for the ironmongery, jewellers for insetting, cutlers for guards/fine metal work, carpenters for the scabbard, etc.
Personally, I'm not for having a gaudy sword made up for Richter, since he's never had a firm place among in the high nobility and it seems odd to try and force that when he's an oily, grimy tanker at heart. Just chipping in my two cents for anons who do want a fancier word made.
>>
>>5258351
>Wouldn't Richter as an officer have a sword from when he was originally commissioned, or does Strossvald not give thise out?
They must be bought- though they're usually not expensive if nothing fancy is gone after. They aren't for free, though considering the other luxuries allowed noble officers, it's not much to ask for.
Frankly, Richter's just never gotten a sword, with everything that stacked up on his opening weeks to do list. Not that he was ever good at fencing. Now he can barely hold a gun let alone a blade.

>>5258097
>>5258111
>>5258171
>>5258193
>>5258216
>>5258418
You have a thing for short people, don't you?

>>5258448
Do...everything!

Writing.
>>
Von Walen. He was a collector of strange old things, wasn’t he? You’d had the foresight to keep him from getting shot up in Netilland, too. He owed you one. Helping you was the least he could do…wasn’t it? The only problem was getting into proper contact with him. For now, you didn’t know where he was, though you could probably find out where his family was who could tell you.

That’d be for later. For now, you had family to attend to. You got down to the living room, and sat about with mother, father, and Hilda, sharing stories of your time in the Silver Lances, even if some of it was what was already said in letters, you could retell the details far more easily without the limitations of paper space and screening for military intelligence leaks.

“So my retinue decided to take up cross-dressing to go from being a courier to taking a position of command,” you retold, “Not that it’s hard to do that with a blindfold, a heavy scarf, and a metal plate on the chest. It was easy for me to tell. It isn’t the first time she’s pretended to be a male soldier.”

“Your father told me about her,” Eda Von Tracht said, “But you’ve never brought her back here. Where is she? This is hardly a convalescence shelter, but a wounded young lady with a broken arm should not have to fend for herself if she is your retinue.”

“I thought it was better for her to stay at home for at least a little while,” you explained, “Her independence is important to her. I didn’t want to impose by making her stay at my home.” Even if “independence” and “being a retinue” would be mutually exclusive terms to most. “She has money saved from military retinue stipends, and she can take care of herself well enough.”

Your mother turned her nose up. “I’d still want to meet her. I’m the only one here who hasn’t. What did you think of her, Hilda dear?”

Hilda didn’t have much to say. “Rude. Aggressive. I didn’t stay around her much.”

Not out of any mutual feeling from Anya. Rather, as far as you knew, Anya rather liked Hilda, but Hilda was as aloof as she was around most people with your energetic retinue. You’d never asked why- it wasn’t animosity, as far as you knew, unlike your fiancée’s feelings on Anya.

“Don’t you have a picture of her, at least?” Mother asked.

That gave Geroldt pause for thought. “…Wait here, I have an old one, I think.” He left, and came back shortly, showing the small photograph around. It was old indeed, with no decorative or illustrative paint, merely yellow aged black and white. “My brother sent me this, perhaps nine years ago or so, but I don’t know how old she is here. He guessed around twelve or thirteen, but as you can see, she’s rather skinny.”
>>
It was unmistakably Anya, though her most defining feature was completely absent, as her face was unmarred by any scars. She was smiling brightly, openly, but with hair shorn to neck length and being dressed in a loose shirt, combined with being a child, she could have readily been mistaken for a young boy. Especially with her diminutive height.

“I hadn’t heard much of her,” your mother said.

“You never liked to hear of my brother,” your father offered. Eda had no reply to that- it was simple truth. She and your uncle had never gotten along, ever.

“Doesn’t she know how old she is.” Hilda asked.

“No,” you answered, “She doesn’t.” Strange as that was to say. “I’m intending to have her at my wedding, anyways. You can meet her there- unless I can get her here earlier, but that’s only if she wants to come. I was thinking, too…there’s friends of Heller that I met while I was in Sosaldt. A Schweinmann, for example. Do you think it’d be alright for him to come over, father?”

Geroldt scratched his chin as though pondering, but his eyes were set and focused. “I doubt he’ll come. Whatever he is in Sosaldt, he may still be a wanted man here in the Archduchy.”

“Ah. I see.” It had been worth consideration at least, though it was true that such a distinctly hoggish man would be unlikely to escape notice, especially if he was still a wanted criminal of whatever sort, after ten years. Though apparently not bad enough of one to be hunted over the border?

“Are you intending to invite…what was his name, Van Halm?” Mother asked, “He came around the other day wanting to see you.”

Was he back up and walking? “Oskar Van Halm?” you asked.

“Oh, no,” Eda shook her head, “Not the prince of Van Halm. His younger brother, his name was Karel. He said he knew you from your Army Academy?”

“What did he want?” you frowned- you didn’t really want to meet with him again.

“He wanted to thank you, he said,” Eda said, “Are you not friends? He seemed quite earnest.”

“No, I just don’t know him very well,” you said. “I suppose he’ll come back around sometime.”

A knock at the door.

“Maybe that’s him?” You rose, “I’ll get it.”
>>
It was not Van Halm. It was Gerovic, who smiled wide and waved as you opened the door.

“Hello there!” he said brightly, “Fancy seeing you again. I’m looking for a Richter von Tracht, lieutenant rank, has half a face and…” he squinted at your eyes, “A quite nostalgic pair of green peepers.”
“What do you want,” you sighed, “You’re not coming in, if that’s what you’re aiming for.”

“Oh no, that’s not it. Ahem,” he gingerly held out a manila folder, tied with string to close it, “For you, from our mutual special lady. Your mommy, perhaps, and for me, a vexing lost opportunity. Either way, she wants a report, and to arrange a meeting. Her schedule is remarkably flexible, but you will have to meet. For future considerations. I’ve been told to assure you a free honeymoon.”

>Shut the door in his face. If the Major wanted to see you, she could see you herself. Why wouldn’t she here, anyways?
>Is it alright to go not? You’d go now.
>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
>Other?
Also, if you have any questions or objects for discussion, write those in too.
>>
>>5258860
>Is it alright to go not? You’d go now.
Get it out the way.
This shouldn't take long right?
Though it does, we can always just schedule it for tomorrow morning.
>>
>>5258860
>>Is it alright to go now? You’d go now.
Must as well do it now, plus the IO can definitely tell us where to find Von Walen.
>>
>>5258920
As for other topics, IIRC Mother used to be some kind of lady-in-waiting/servant right? Was wondering if she would be able to give her son a crash course on court etiquette for the debut as well as interacting with the highborn in general.
>>
>>5258860
>>Is it alright to go not? You’d go now.
>>
>>5258860
>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
Let's just go tomorrow morning, we just met back up with our parents.
>>
>>5258860
>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
Tomorrow morning sounds good. At the very least let our parents have us for the rest of the day.
>>
>>5258860
>>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
In the morning or at least before we fly back to the Blumlands.
>Other?
At some point we should pick Gerovic's brain and get him to write about the various strengths and weaknesses of the tanks he's commanded and fought against. We are slowly accruing a contact list of able tank commanders so we might as well utilize them when considering further upgrades or modifications to the Blumlands armory.
>>
>>5258860
>>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
When we're done vising with our family.
>>
>>5258860
>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
Go in the morning, then visit Von Walen and possibly Von Halm afterwards.
>>
>>5258860
>Is it alright to go not? You’d go now.
>>
>>5258898
>>5258920
>>5258954
>>5259403
Hurry on our to your other, cooler mommy.

>>5259026
>>5259036
>>5259133
>>5259373
>>5259394
You can wait until tomorrow. I want sleepytime first.

Writing.
>>
>>5258860
>Arrange a meeting at a future date. (When?)
Tomorrow morning
>>
“I just got back here,” you said to Gerovic, “I’ll have this meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll want to know a few things, too. Where a Teobaldt Von Walen can be found, particularly, and I’ll want to have a word with you.”

“You can have a word with me right here, you know,” Gerovic smugly put his hand to his chest and the other on his hip, “Are you coming around to my charms?”

“What I’m coming around to is your experience and ability as a tank commander,” you retorted harshly, “Despite everything else, the Netillians were so concerned with a single man that they put a bounty on you alone.”

“Come on now, Richter, my half-pretty boy, you ought to know by now that nobody of true talent in war ever worked alone. Though I can’t help but notice that I was so terrifying, that you refused to fight me in your own tank yourself?” He leaned forward in a mocking bow with a cool and slim smirk on his face, “What better way would there be to pick this brain than to engage it in combat, hm? The simulated sort, since you missed your chance at the real thing.”

“Clearly I didn’t have to fight to pluck you from the Twaryians,” you said back.

“If you want to think of it that way. Yet what would you have done if you didn’t have the keys to my bedroom, hm?”

“Enough,” you flicked your hand, “I’m not standing here to banter more. The meeting is arranged. Leave me be.”

“You so cruelly deprive me of the single mother you have in there,” Gerovic put on a false hurt tone, “At least set her loose for me to chase?”

The door was closed after that comment. Gerovic would have no choice, no matter how much he liked to waste time, than to do what you said. After all, for better or worse, you now had some sway- authority in the organization that he was but a pawn in now. For now, he was to leave you and yours the hell alone while he did…whatever he spent his idle time doing here. Presumably nothing good.

“Who was at the door, Richter?” Mother asked when you got back.

“A louse,” you said as you settled onto the same couch as Hilda sat on, “The man who’s been hanging around Hilda. Harmless, but insufferable.” You also absolutely didn’t want him to make any comments about your mother later. “I spoke of this before, but I have a court debut in the Blumlands in a week, and I’ve…never really taken to the courts.”

“No, you haven’t,” Eda said.

“So I want to know how I should conduct myself, considering…”
>>
Eda tittered to herself softly behind a lace shrouded hand, “Richter, you should not learn how to act as a Von Blutenstein did. My role at any court was to keep my head bowed, and to suffer what was considered just for the crimes of my line. You are Von Tracht. You should be a proud son, especially when this court sees you first. Suffer nothing. Hold yourself high,” she made doe eyes to your father, “And behave yourself around the maidservants.”

“Mother, please,” you sulked darkly, “Hilda is right here…and should a ritter family not defer to the highborn?”

“Not if your wife is Von Blum,” your mother said, “Your blood is to be made one. You must represent both sides of your family. When I attended court after marrying your father, do you think I bowed my head and let hands wander over a shamed daughter? Certainly not. That would be to insult your dear father. Invite a duel, if you must.”

“I thought duels were banned,” you said, though you knew they still took place…

“Your mother refers to metaphorical ones, Richter,” your father said, “Courts are places of posturing and subtlety, depending on where they are. I would advise, if you wish to act hostile for whatever reason, to bear in mind whose court you are a guest to, unless you wish to appear as though you intended to insult them. Especially in Blumsburgh.”

“As opposed to the Archduke’s court?”

“…The best way to avoid giving offense where debauchery is expected is to not attend at all,” your father said lowly, “What your mother said is true, though. Your relation to the High Lord is best to keep in mind when expecting and giving respect. Those experienced in court affairs will not make any slight accidental.”

Though you weren’t sure how seriously to take any advice to duel, considering your present martial ability…

Maybe you ought to find a tutor in personal combat once more, to get you to a respectable place in self-defense skill.

>Von Metzeler was the best swordsman you knew- a courtly style would suit you best.
>Your retinue was a skilled brawler- and the inheritor of Heller von Tracht’s fighting style. She’d taught you before- and she could do it again, and have the lessons stick better this time.
>Other?
>>
>>5259744
>Other?
I'm not gonna lie to ya, it's gonna get weird. 2 pistols.
>>
>>5259744
>Your retinue was a skilled brawler- and the inheritor of Heller von Tracht’s fighting style. She’d taught you before- and she could do it again, and have the lessons stick better this time.

Probably for the best we keep Von Metzeler tucked away for a rainy day since having a good swordsman on hand somewhere to practice with, when we need it is probably for the best. A non standard style should help us should we ever need it outside a courtly setting and Anya likely has "some" practical experience dealing with people expecting a normal style in a less "metered" or "Fair" situation.
>>
>>5259744
>Other?
Tank?
>>
The rest of the day was spent about the house- right past dinner, where you continued to retell all that happened since last leaving…with exceptions. Such as those for the supernatural- yet that still kept you talking right past the rise of the moon, and eventually, you were left to sit by a dying fire, the glowing coals the only light in the room as you took in the peace of a quiet house.

When the other world’s pull came as you expected, you gave it no resistance.

----

It had been a while since you’d been here- lying on your back, facing upwards to a chaotic, swirling mess of black, white, and nameless color that shifted in and out of a torrent both near and far away. A pitch black lump discolored with grey was beneath you, and when you sat up…you saw no cottage.

Instead, there was a tent set up, with a heavy rucksack partially disassembled, a stove set up on a sand and a folding stool. A familiar figure stood before it, and had only just now turned his head…though, strangely, he seemed smaller than you remembered. Which wasn’t saying much. Poltergeist’s normal height was intimidatingly towering.

“Ah.” His voice sounded different, too. Its wooden windchime-esque tone was less pronounced. “It’s about time. I see you’ve grown accustomed to that new face…heh heh heh.” He gestured with his fingers, and you were raised to your feet. “Not as comfortable here as it could be, but any port in the storm is a good one, as they say. Any tea in a drought?” He turned and sat upon the stool by the stove, which had a tall kettle atop it. “Though that look on half of your face seems like it’s just dying to pelt me with questions, isn’t it?”

>The Specter of Time waits for you to speak. Though you well know that he is not inclined to answer every question…

Wow I had to leave this and it didn't post like I thought it would, the last thing wasn't intended to be the only vote.
>>
>>5259866
>The Specter of Time waits for you to speak. Though you well know that he is not inclined to answer every question…

I don't remember if we were still on the hook for a favor (or two), or if we cleared that up or not.

Extend invite to our upcoming wedding, since we wouldn't be "here" without "them".

And a better way to reach them since our preventative "habit" might not be tenable should we start "cohabitating", without issues at least.

Mention the soul binders we met during our recent deployment(s), and how to keep them away from more sensitive things, like our personal life, among others
>>
>>5259866
>Do you want to come to my wedding?
>>
>>5259744
>Your retinue was a skilled brawler- and the inheritor of Heller von Tracht’s fighting style. She’d taught you before- and she could do it again, and have the lessons stick better this time.
Sword training would be nice and more fitting for our station, but Rondo has his own sit to worry about. Best to not bother him with teaching Richter to fight when we have a perfectly good teacher right there.

>>5259866
Is he ok and where was the house? He seems different, "younger" you could say. Is this just a result of the Naval's weird time warp bs sending us further back into the past and if so how does he even know us? If not, then what IS going on here?
Ask about what powers Gerovic seems to have. Are such powers just something that comes naturally or are all things related to presence manipulation things that need to be taught and if so, where could have learned such things?
Ask about the spooky time warp shit the Demiphantom pulled, that's pretty important. And on top of that, when would we expect a visit from him to relinquish the monster into his care? Not trying to force a date on him, just wondering so we can clear Richter's loose schedule.
Oh, ask about Vriska visiting Richter in the dream and that whole adventure.
Finally, ask about the Hermit and his relationship with the Von Blum. Not expecting much, but given Poltergeist was sent to kill him, I'd imagine he'd know something.

Details about the Von Blum's...underground operations should not be shared under any circumstances.

>>5259887
We are still on the hook for that. He saved our life so now we need to release the man made horror cat beyond human comprehension out of it's box.
It just hasn't happened yet.
>>
>>5259866
Was that a metaphor or does he actually have tea? If so ask to have some. Then invite him to our wedding.

>>5259913
>It just hasn't happened yet.
Anon, time isn't linear here, there's no such thing as "hasn't happened yet." Since he's not bothering us asking for it obviously we already handed over the demiphantom, in the future.
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>>5259959
>Since he's not bothering us asking for it obviously we already handed over the demiphantom, in the future.
I don't think that's what it means at all.
But either way what I was implying is that Richter IS still "on the hook for a favor" since from Richter's perspective, he hasn't released the phantom yet and it's still something he's expecting Poltergiest to come take him away to do.
>>
>>5259744
>Other?
Any self-respecting secret intelligence organisation has some kind of school of one shot 'icepick to the brainstem' last resort self defence techniques, ask the Major about the possibility of recieving training for such tomorrow. Surely she can't expect us to just bluff our way through another Sleepwalker op without a way to defend ourself, should a physical confrontation get out of hand along the way.
>>5259866
>The Specter of Time waits for you to speak. Though you well know that he is not inclined to answer every question…
Tell him about the devourer we saw in the woods and the sealing of it's burrow by unknown forces. Ask if he might know of anyone responsible operating this close to the capital and what steps we might take to avoid them, if they're hostile.
Ask what makes certain people able and unable to see presence creatures/artifacts. Is there a way to "switch on" someone's sight with training, so to speak? If not, is it something he could do or would that be breaking some Soulbinder interference rule? What I'm getting at is, should Poltergeist accept our request to attend the wedding, could he somehow make Anya capable of seeing the unseen (even if only briefly), to help convince her Richter isn't losing his mind.
>>
>>5259987
>What I'm getting at is, should Poltergeist accept our request to attend the wedding, could he somehow make Anya capable of seeing the unseen (even if only briefly), to help convince her Richter isn't losing his mind.
Bad idea.
First of all, Richter isn't really in the place to be asking Poltergeist for favors.
And second, I think people like Anya and Hans, simply don't want to see. They both share a sort of stubbornness about the whole seeing ghosts thing and I feel forcing her to see something she might not wanna see is a bad idea.
I'd love to ask him about it though. Just not request he do anything about it either way.
>>
>>5259866
>The Specter of Time waits for you to speak.
Are you alright? Can the Oblitares attack you even here in Betwixt?
How many more times do we visit you here in total?

Yes I had to do a deep dive to pull those names out. Incidentally our armor is inhabited by a 'Possessor' spirit, yea I know no shit, and the Demi Phantom is called a Gmshul Nushmeyt. I was trying to find the name of the Big Spirit that lived outside Poltys hut but it escaped me, I miss that little nigga like you wouldn't believe.
>>
>>5259866
>Von Metzeler was the best swordsman you knew- a courtly style would suit you best.


>The Specter of Time waits for you to speak. Though you well know that he is not inclined to answer every question…

Ask him about all the soulbinders sniffing around Sosaldt and Netilland recently, especially the supposed appearance at the Garten facility. What would a bunch of wizards need chemical weapons for?
>>
>>5259866
>>5259913
>>5260053
Good questions.
Pact was an odd one, especially given how young she seemed or pretended to be.
I doubt we'll get such in-depth answers about Soulbinder culture, but I'd think they'd think better to let little girls become wizards. Then again, we do know some orders have their specifically female warriors, so I assume she's being groomed for that.
And there were a few things about Yjen and that whole deal. I wonder what that's about from the Soulbinder perspective.
Oh and the stuff about them wanting weapons is important too.
>>
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>>5260000
>I miss that little nigga like you wouldn't believe.
>>
>>5260115
Hero!
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>>5259993
I wasn't suggesting we have him change Anya's sight now (who knows how that would even work, considering time is largely irrelevant here) on her behalf, rather probing to see if he'd offer her the choice in person at the wedding.
That said, you're right, Polt doing so would probably require a favour in return for his efforts, and whether that would be a favour from Richter or from Anya would likely be at his discretion.
>>
>>5259823
>>5259859
"Personal Combat" did not refer to "firearms" or "crewed war machines."
Sorry.

>>5259831
>>5259913
I want to bite that thigh for the third time.

>>5260053
Tutor under the one armed sword arm.

>>5259987
Try and get spooky with it.

As for questions-

Well. There's plenty, but it seems the most prevalent one is inviting this strange creature to your wedding. I'm almost curious who you don't want.

Writing.
>>
>>5260614
>I'm almost curious who you don't want.
The guy who threw us into a piano
>>
>>5260624
Invite the piano though
>>
“…Was the tea some strange, cryptic metaphor,” you asked slowly, looking up and down the cloaked figure, “Or do you actually have tea?”

“Please.” Poltergeist moved a hand towards the stove’ direction, “Do you really think I would toy with you where tea is concerned? Your presence in this place won’t allow you to properly consume it, but you may still enjoy it for as long as you are here, so long as you don’t expect to taste it once you return. Now, have a seat.”

On the ground, you presumed, before you felt the stool shift itself under you with a dragging shuffle. “So,” you led off, “I’m getting married in three weeks. Do you want to attend the ceremonies?”

“Ah, you’ve been cultivating a sense of humor, I see,” Poltergeist said as he poured a cup in a gloved hand.

“I’m not joking.”

“You are, if you think that I need an invitation to go anywhere I please,” Poltergeist set the brewing cup on another stool…that he had produced from behind the pack, or had conjured from thin air, so far as you’d actually seen. “Then you must have quite the sense of humor indeed.”

“At some point, you’ll have to come around anyways. To pick up the demiphantom, for your favor, and all of that. I thought you may as well come then. When were you planning to do that? Soon?”

“Richter, I’ll arrive to pick it up exactly when I intend to,” Poltergeist said with a lecturing tone, “Don’t try and hurry my carefully prepared schedule. All you have to do is wait.”

You reached forward and picked up the teacup, smelled its progress- you didn’t recognize the sort of tea it was. “I don’t know if I can wait. The demiphantom has been invading my dreams. Showing me people. Times. It’s grown much more articulate. It’s changing, and I have no explanations for it.”

“Hum,” Poltergeist sat on the stool now that you had retrieved the cup from it, “What people?”

“People from my past. Dead people. They spoke like they did in life, and after they were gone, the demiphantom appeared and said in time we will be one, or something alone those lines,” You looked to the side uncomfortably, in memory, “It didn’t feel like they were mere illusions.”

“The Demiphantom is not so feared a creature because it is merely deadly,” Poltergeist laid out a palm, in offering of an explanation. A small concession. “It has the power of many. To extend, and recall from the presence. Or so the theory goes. These people you saw were all connected with you. Your Presence is not merely its own, but everything that has happened, all you have met. It is how we are all unique, heh heh heh. Though I doubt such a simple explanation satisfies you, that’s about as well as I can put it for one who has no arts.”

“But then it showed me people I couldn’t have known,” you said quickly after, “Places and times I couldn’t have seen. How could that be recalled from my presence?”
>>
Poltergeist closed his hand. “That is where I’m afraid I won’t tell you anymore. Heh heh. I have my secrets. Why do you think I want that thing?”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, “You won’t tell me why you sound younger either, do you? Why you’re making out like you know everything despite, if you’re younger than ever, never even having met me.”

“How prescient. Are you all knowing, Richter?” Poltergeist’s tone was more mocking than usual, “Pray, what other questions do you already know I have no desire to answer?”

“How many more times I come here and meet with you, for one.”

“Ahh, I see,” Poltergeist leaned back, “You do believe I am omniscient.”

“I’ve heard you called the Specter of Time, Storyteller,” you countered with some frustration, “There’s no reason to not believe you know practically anything.”

“I am not willing to tell everything, though,” Poltergeist laid his hands up, “Try your tea now, if it isn’t ready, it should be soon,” he flicked a finger and a sugar cube flew up and plinked into your tea after bouncing off the inner rim of the cup. “Who did you meet who called me Storyteller?”

“I’m not willing to tell you.”

“Heh heh heh.”

You’d deserved a jab, at least he’d taken it in stride. “A young girl called Pact. Thirteen or fourteen years old. A soulbinder herself.”

“Ah. That thing.”

“So she isn’t a young girl after all?”

“No, she is,” Poltergeist said, “The name has significance, is all. It hardly matters to you right now.”

“So be it,” you knew better than to push that, “Should such a little girl really be a soulbinder? Or roaming about doing the duties of one? I’d think your lot would know better.”
>>
“They do,” Poltergeist said as though he had some doubts on “their” proper judgment, “When they are so young, they have been groomed for the arts from birth, you see. Normally, they spend much of their lives in the mountains, or at least, their whole childhood and adolescence. The people of the mountains consider these women sacred, as representative incarnations of their goddess Yjens. Regardless of those hokey cults’ beliefs, that a young woman has been sent out from the mountains before she’s done is indeed an indication. That things aren’t going well, heh heh heh.”

That hardly boded well. “Before she’s done? She seemed plenty powerful.”

“They are quite powerful,” Poltergeist said, “Did that one you met earlier not indicate that? Whatever her name was…also young, relatively, but probably done. For a maiden of the mountains to complete her training, you see, she must become a mother. Then, in their final trials, whilst in the greatest perils of their training, they sacrifice their young while still in the womb, in order to fully incarnate the cycle of life and death. As to mimic the dead goddess of humanity, they allow themselves to die- but by then they do not remain dead, though the life within does perish.”
“That sounds barbaric,” you said, sipping your tea now, “Why would they do that? From the sounds of things, you don’t particularly believe in this Yjens thing, do you?”

“Don’t say you heard it from me,” Poltergeist mocked at a whisper despite you both being all alone, “But besides the symbolism, you see, to create life within the body changes the presence. Women and men have different presences for this reason, as one must harbor life within to continue the cycle of creation. Heh. Yes, though, I don’t disavow earth heresy, but I’d rather not merely go along with the Mountain Elders’ old stories just because they wish me to. Anyways, you’ve not the time for a full cultural lesson here. I’m sure you have friends elsewhere you can ask, hmm?”

“Yes, friends,” you said, “Speaking of…can the Oblitares get you here? Are you actually safe here? If you are not younger, then you don’t seem quite right.”

“A ludicrous question,” Poltergeist was properly dismissive now, “Of course they can’t.”

“It’s just that,” you eyed the tea strangely, noticed a swirling despite the liquid not being in particular motion. It was good, though. “Strange things have been occurring with Soulbinders, lately. They’ve been having their investigations and conflicts in Ellowie and Netilland, and Sosaldt. I heard of an operation that comrades of mine were involved in, where they encountered operators that were of supernatural sort. Mountains sort. They were at a secret facility that was developing a biological weapon. What on earth would soulbinders want with that, or our weapons in general? How would they even know about that?”
>>
Poltergeist shrugged innocently. “Weapons are still useful even to those who know the arts. I have a machine gun. It’s quite potent, to say the least. As for how they knew…I suspect they didn’t, actually. I suspect they merely followed something. What, I cannot say. I’m hardly a mind reader, heh heh. Though it does mean that whomever is directing who has decided that the arts and secrecy are no longer as effective as they once were. An ill omen for many.”

“If that’s the case, I have another question,” you said, finishing your tea so that it didn’t mysteriously turn at you, to banish the shapes appearing within, “There’s people who are more sensitive to spirits and presence and such, and people who aren’t. How does that work? Can they have sight imposed upon them?”

“Yes,” Poltergeist said, pointing to you, “You could not always see spirits. It can be awakened, in quite a few, but it is not normal unless something abnormal lingers near, heh heh. Not everybody has such potential, though. If you are simply…how might one put it, of a different and particular frequency, perhaps? Then it would take a great amount of force to shock your senses awake. Such people are locked from the supernatural. Though this does also mean their presences are quite resilient, as well…”

“So what about the other end of things,” you said, “I met a man called Gerovic, who seems unusually sensitive. As far as I know, he’s no soulbinder, or agent of Oblitares or whatever, yet I’m told he had no trouble communicating with spirits at all, and references them casually. That hardly seems normal..?”

“A rare few are born with particular sense, yes,” Poltergeist said, “Such is how discovery of spirits and arts came about at all, don’t you think? Such people can be quite powerful, if they know just what they’ve been blessed with, heh heh. You see, they are so well attuned with the world and its presence, and have such flexible sense, they unknowingly peer into the very motions of…would you call it fate? Perhaps. So they have a sense for knowing what may occur, even though they may imagine it merely the world bending to their whim. An imperfect sense. They are not gods, after all…I wonder how well this man you describe knows it? Heh.” He looked about, “You’re staying about for longer than usual, hm?”

“Good,” you said, “Because I have another question I’d rather not be cut off from. In the Capital, in Strosstadt, or rather, its outskirts…” you took a breath, trying not to rush things, “There was a creature that Maddalyn called a Devourer.”

“Ah, yes. Zvchelles, as some call them. Giant upside down catfish creatures.”
>>
“…I expected a more mystical description,” you said dully.

“It’s what they are,” Poltergeist said, “What about it? You’re alive, after all.”

“It seemed quite angry,” you said, “Or at the very least dangerous. Yet apparently it’s dug back into the ground, and somebody covered it up.”

“It is both a creature of nature but also of Presence. Of the Depths, the Abysses,” Poltergeist said, making a sign to himself you recognized as that of protection…by the Judge Above. “They slumber, sometimes for hundreds of years. They are ancient creatures, but they can be awoken. One of the duties of soulbinders is to set them back to sleep when they awake, and ensure that they are not disturbed. Such deep sleep prompts ravenous hunger, after all, and though they can be sustained by the presence bubbling up from the earth, the closer they rise to the surface, the less suffused they become with vital energies. So they hunger.”

“I wanted to ask if there was somebody I should be concerned about, operating there,” you said, “Like an Oblitares.”

“No, no,” Poltergeist waved his hands, “There’s no need to be concerned with that. Oblitares wouldn’t go that far west…yet at least. Devourers make quite an upset when they start roaming. Somebody would detect them from far off, and then go and deal with them.”

“It talked, too,” you said, “Do they…talk to people?”

“Yes, but I’d rather they not,” Poltergeist said, “Truth be told, they’re quite boring conversationalists.” You weren’t sure if that was a joke or not. “Was that about it, then? You don’t seem to be fading away, still. Perhaps time for a second cup?”

>Yes, a few more things. (?)
>…No, frankly, you’d said what there was to say.
>Other?
>>
>>5261191
>Yes, a few more things. (?)
Do you have any questions for me?
>>
>>5261191
Ask about the forest spirit deer and other such beasts that might be around.
Ask why he seems so skeptical of mountain folk superstitions. As awful as it is, there has to be some level of truth if they get the results they get. Maybe the nature of arts is just inherently barbaric in some ways, like the virgin blood thing.
Ask about the Hermit and who he might have based his work on. As well as if Poltergeist knew him personally, if so what was he like?
Where Hummel at?
>>5261211
I lik this one too.
>>
>>5261191
I'm in for these >>5261211 >>5261215
We need closure on what happened to the best bee.
>>
Though, perhaps a better question than "Where is Hummel?" would be "Why is Hummel?"
>>
>>5261191
>Yes, a few more things. (?)
>>5261236
>When is Hummel?

Also, once you take the Demiphantom, Richter's connection with it will be broken yes?
Do we actually want to tell him about the possession? Maybe the Consolum?
>>
>>5261426
No, we really should never utter the C. word again. Let's actually follow our father's advice please.
>>
>>5261426
>Maybe the Consolum?
Lets see what he knows or is willing to share. Maybe their the same group as
>Though it does mean that whomever is directing who has decided that the arts and secrecy are no longer as effective as they once were. An ill omen for many.
>>
>>5261426
Our best incentive for getting answers out of Poltergeist is probably by offering up as much information as we ask for, so I'd support telling him about the possession(s) if there's a chance to shed light on it, or if that info gets us more dirt on the esoteric in future.
I think we're pretty safe to ask about the Consolum here.
>>
>>5261446
>>5261434
It hasn't been a single day since our father unequivocally told us to never even say their name again, and you want us to *ask about them* to someone who is intimately familiar and connected with the soulbinder world? Just how much do you people want to see Richter dead? This is an immense amount of trust you are putting in someone who has zero reason to not tell any Consolum buddies he has about us.
>>
>>5261211
Do you want to ask me anything?

>>5261215
>>5261227
The forests, the mountains, the Hermit and the Hummel.

>>5261236
Ok Drax.

>>5261426
Will you be taking my problems quite literally?

>>5261432
>>5261434
>>5261446
Speculate on giving hidden information? Quite honestly, this seems like its own vote...

Let's see if I can smash this one out before I have to leave.

Also, just as a general mood, is the opinion on art or not one way or the other? This is far from a drawquest, but I just want to know if more pictures are appreciated or not even if they have the potential to impact update speed. Though really I guess I could just lower my standards and draw more quickly if that's a problem...
>>
>>5261468
It depends on how much it affects update speed. I don't mind waiting a few extra hours per update, but if the delay is by a day or more, it's probably best saved for important moments.

Also, can random incredibly important things that are tacked in to votes like whether or not to bring up the Consolum be soft vetoed unless they have a dedicated vote or very large majority? I'd rather not see Richter suffer grievous consequences because a couple anons were retarded in one vote when not many people were active.
>>
>>5261468
I'm wholely in favour of more art, in spite of potential delays.
>>
>>5261472
>Also, can random incredibly important things that are tacked in to votes like whether or not to bring up the Consolum be soft vetoed unless they have a dedicated vote or very large majority?
Of course. That's rather critical to just casually bring up, after all. I might have misjudged such things in the past, but I think this is definitely a case where this is knowledge held extremely close to the chest.
>>
>>5261468
>not even if they have the potential to impact update speed.
Boss, I've been with you since the air attack alternate reality first thread. Update speed is not an issue and while at first I was annoyed at the one a day update, I've grown to appreciate the pace the quest runs at now since I'm no longer a Student/NEET.

I like the art, I think its great. We're already getting to live in the world you created through this quest, you being able to express it through a more visual medium is wonderful.

>>5261472
>Also, can random incredibly important things that are tacked in to votes like whether or not to bring up the Consolum be soft vetoed unless they have a dedicated vote or very large majority? I'd rather not see Richter suffer grievous consequences because a couple anons were retarded in one vote when not many people were active.
Thats just the nature of quests where main characters are eclectic schizophrenic's due to the vote by committee internal dialogue. There's alot of stuff done over the years where I'm not happy with the outcome of the vote. However the consequences have always been fun and engaging. People aren't rational 100% of the time so having Richter compromise himself from time to time opens up storytelling avenues that wouldn't normally be explored.
>>
“Well,” you held your cup out, “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Many, many,” Poltergeist crossed a leg over the other, gesturing the ingredients into your cup, snapped about by floating threads that sparked in and out of view. Though, this time the tea seemed to have been prepared to drinking specifications ahead of time… “What is the meaning of life? Are raspberries or blackberries superior? Is it better to seek a woman who drinks beer, or wine? Don’t actually answer any of those. The fact of the matter is,” he clasped his gloved hands together, “We don’t actually have time here to spend on things we both already know.”

That was a nonsensical and overdrawn method of saying no, but you didn’t linger on it. “Fine. One time I was here, there was a huge winged spirit, that you said was named Hummel. What was that? Where is he?”

“He’s here,” Poltergeist said innocently, “I just don’t want to reveal him to you right now. There’s no need for him to come out if I’m here. Though he does like you. I don’t want to say why, I just want you to know he’s fond of you. Else when you came here you would have been tossed off right away.”

…That implied the monster liked you before? “What is it, though?”

“Not telling,” Poltergeist said firmly, “He is Hummel. Ask your dear midget about it, perhaps.”

Would she even tell you, though? “That reminds me. The Hermit. When we first met you were on your way to kill him. How well did you know him, if at all? Do you know what he did before? I heard that he and the Lord Von Blum, and Maddalyn’s mother- they went on expeditions together, in the past.”

“They did,” Poltergeist answered flatly, “The details are long and best asked of somebody else. Perhaps your father-in-law, but there was a reason the Hermit chose to hide out in the Blumlands.”

“What was he like? The Hermit, I mean. Would he have based his work on anything?”

“Ambitious,” Poltergeist said, “With not enough time to realize his ambitions. Fearful of losing his chance at,” he leaned forward, “Immortality. That was his grave sin that the mountain lords could not ignore. To dabble in forces that would cut a path to sure ruin for many. He has little to iterate on beside theory, but he clearly tried his best to discover what of the eldest era had not been purged,” He leaned back again, relaxed, his hands on his lap. “Not a personable man. An obsessive user of his fellow man, and plenty willing to deceive for his own gain.”

“Sounds like a soulbinder to me,” you said sorely over a slurp from your cup.

“Heh heh heh. Doesn’t he, now.”
>>
“Anyways,” there might have been more questions to have about the Hermit, but Poltergeist had a point- the Hermit, and people who knew him best, were right there in the Blumlands. “You said the Devourer was both a beast of nature and of spirit. There are others like that, then? Perhaps like giant Thornbrushes?”

“No, a Thornbrush is just a deer,” Poltergeist waved a hand, “Heavy presence can indeed affect an animal in strange ways, but presence and nature mixes much more reliably in the bowels of the world. In deep caves and tonnes of dirt and stone. Living Stones, for example. Shagherds.”

“I see,” you noted that down in your head, “Why are you so skeptical of mountainfolk superstition? Barbaric as their rituals might be, they clearly have some results, do they not? Perhaps some things demand barbarity?”

“Some things do. Other things do not,” Poltergeist laid out with one hand, then the other, “I am not dismissive of all their culture. Only the backwards shots in the dark, and the unquestioned authority of the Mountain Lords. Tradition exists to be questioned so that we know its purpose. Elsewise perhaps the Oblitares might not be so dedicated against the Mountain Lords.”

“Yet you are still their ally?”

“I would not say ally, but they would,” Poltergeist said with disdain, “It hardly matters. They can be worked with in some ways and not others.” He eyed you with a curious tilt to his head, “What is it next? It seems like you’re deathly curious of something.”

Deathly was right. Your father had just told you to avoid so much as speaking of it- but you were already in a forbidden world as it stood, alone. Were you in danger? Yet- you also knew absolutely nothing of this Consolum de Sortium. What might you even learn of asking of it? Did it have any purpose at best beyond fulfilling curiosity? If Poltergeist even decided to tell you rather than playing games like he often did. He spoke of some organization that worked in secrets and shadows…perhaps that was just the Mountain Lords, though..?

>Ask of this mystery. Poltergeist was an enigmatic sorcerer, who else was safer to ask?
>Let it lay. All that might await from even knowing was better left avoided. Father said ignorance was the better idea, and you would stick to that.
>Other?
>>
>>5261487
>Let it lay. All that might await from even knowing was better left avoided. Father said ignorance was the better idea, and you would stick to that.

At least try to respect our dad's wishes before immediately breaking them
>>
>>5261487
>Let it lay. All that might await from even knowing was better left avoided. Father said ignorance was the better idea, and you would stick to that.
We are almost certainly better off not knowing, even if asking him about it didn't carry risk (which it certainly does).
>>
>>5261487
>>Ask of this mystery. Poltergeist was an enigmatic sorcerer, who else was safer to ask?
>>
>>5261487
>Other?
Does he think these private tea parties will persist after he collects the Demiphantom or will it's separation cause Richter's tether to this world to break?
Does Poltergeist actually enjoy our company here?
>>
>>5261487
>>Ask of this mystery. Poltergeist was an enigmatic sorcerer, who else was safer to ask?

If we're going by that line of logic then Poltergeist has killed us 20 times over by what he's casually revealed to us for the duration of this entire quest. Will we have this same reticence when asking about Maddy's work?
>>
>>5261538
I mean, yeah, we do kind of know too much for our own good already, and adding on to this in such a dramatic way is only going to make that worse. And when asking about Maddy's work, we will be talking about much less sensitive (relatively) information and for the purpose of limiting consequences of the development of whatever it is she is doing. While yes, we should definitely be careful about where and how we talk about it, it carries less weight than this topic. Our father seems to be somewhat informed on the topic, and it also makes sense that the less we know, the safer we are. Disregarding that it is very feasible that telling Poltergeist that we know of Consolum at all will bite us in the ass in a very real way, knowing more about the Consolum only makes it more likely they will notice in some way, whether through how we act or talk, or if someone or something can get the information out of us. Knowing about them only satiates curiousity for no other positive end, and has likely and devastating negative consequences. Going through with this is foolhardy and reckless.
>>
>>5261487
>>Let it lay. All that might await from even knowing was better left avoided. Father said ignorance was the better idea, and you would stick to that.
>>
>>5261487
>>Let it lay. All that might await from even knowing was better left avoided. Father said ignorance was the better idea, and you would stick to that.
>>
>>5261493
>>5261504
>>5261612
>>5261694
Let this forbidden knowledge lay- this figure tells plenty enough that he can protect you from the consequences of.

>>5261506
>>5261538
Surely something called the Specter of Time, this mighty and practically inhuman being, would know of this conspiracy...and it gnaws.

>>5261525
Remind the QM that he forgot to answer one of the questions.
I appreciate it, it's easy to leave one out in a rush. Several times.

Writing.

>>5261551
How will you broach this to Maddalyn, I wonder?
Hopefully not as pillowtalk.
>>
No. What could be gained that was worth sacrificing the safety of ignorance? Nothing. Father had expressed his wishes for that only the last day, and far be it from you to break your word to your own blood so soon. Though, the inquisitive look Poltergeist was giving you demanded some answer, in the form of a question.

“When you collect your Demiphantom,” you asked, “Will we stop meeting here, or will I keep traveling here in my sleep?”

“Oh, you won’t come around anymore once it’s grabbed,” Poltergeist said with a hint of what could have been sarcastic melancholy, “It is what pulls you here, after all. No demiphantom trying to take you to it, no tea parties with me in the Navel. That’s just how it is. There’s a reason we don’t have other company.”

“Tea in navels,” you repeated. Your retinue came to mind.

“Hm?”

“Nothing, though I was wondering…” you pointed a finger with the same hand holding the teacup, “Do you actually enjoy my company here, perchance?”

“Heh heh.” Poltergeist scratched at his mask, “It does get quite lonely in this place, it’s true. Though since you’re not so easy on the eyes anymore, if you’re going to show up looking like that you’d better be at least tolerable, hm?” A pause. “Ah. Finish your tea, there.”

You did as instructed, then thought of a smarmy comment. “I could say the same for spending time with you. Who are you, thing that hides your face, to criticize me for not being so pretty?”
“You do spend quite a bit of time around ugly women, don’t you? Heh heh. Fine, though. I’ll show you my face in ten seconds.”

“I’ll be gone by then, won’t I,” you predicted drily.

“Indeed you will be. Until next time, though, remember, the next you see me in person, and not here, it’ll be the last time.” He waved, “Bye-bye, now. Heh heh heh.”
With that, you fell backward and forwards at once, and became nothing.

-----

It was dim and dull in the morning- you’d been the first in the house to wake up, perhaps, and you shuffled off the blanket, stretched out your feet, your arms, rolled your neck about. There wasn’t anything quite like waking up at home again, and having nothing to have to go and do for the day yet.

A thought was had towards turning on the stove and heating water for tea, but despite what Poltergeist had said, you’d just had tea, hadn’t you? No, what you felt a need to do instead was to go for a walk. A small one, while it was early enough that you wouldn’t be sharing the streets with too many people. The bare minimum was done to make ready- a brush through the hair and a change of clothing, and you were out.

Yet, a couple of blocks through the chilly morning breeze, the grey, clouded skies, you realized you were being followed. Your head turned- and you saw Gerovic, making no attempt to hide what he was doing as he strode gaily up beside you.

“What do you want,” you said sullenly to him.
>>
“Just to say good morning, goodness gracious,” Gerovic shrugged at you, “Truth be told, I was hoping Hilda would wake up before you, but this is fine as well. You wanted to have a meeting in the morning, didn’t you?”

“Not this early,” you sighed. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Do you?” Gerovic tapped his foot, “Seems as though you’re bored. You can have that word with me you wanted as we go to see the other prime brunette of this city.”

“I don’t think I like you being around Hilda,” you warned, “She’s not some distraction for you to toy with and discard.”

“What a cruel judgment of me,” Gerovic said with a shake of his head, his stance a low, slouching stoop, “I might be a wandering lout, but I’ve never thought to give any woman anything but what she wanted. Are you saying I’m no good for her? Ridiculous. When I met her, she covered her face up with a mask. Such effort to get her to finally get rid of that. Shouldn’t you be happy for her? Going about hiding your face, even if it’s been half destroyed, isn’t any way to live.”

“Are you old enough to be trying to offer such sage advice?”

“Thirty years old, as of two weeks ago, good Von Tracht. It’s a fine age. You finally stop taking yourself so seriously.”

“Hilda is twenty two.”

“And how old is your woman?” Gerovic smirked at you.

You weren’t even going to start on that. “I’d rather get going, or at least have you speak of something besides Hilda.”

“That blonde scarred girl that’s your retinue or whatever, then. I wonder if your one armed friend delivered my message for her..?”

“What message?” you scrunched up your face.

“That she’s got a nice, spicy scented musk between her legs. Woah, hey,” He dodged a swing right at his face, so easily that it made you angrier, “So touchy about your girls. A sloppy swing, by the way. You really ought not to pick any fights with a form like that.”

“Show some respect,” you grumbled as you shoved your hands in your pockets, “To my retinue if not myself. At least have the courtesy to stop trying to provoke me.”

“Fine, fine. Tank talk, I take it,” Gerovic gestured for you to follow, “She’ll be waiting down this way. Probably meeting in the middle. I’ve got my own tail, see.” He waved vaguely behind him, “Suppose you’re curious of what I think of the exports.”

“Exports.”

“The Twaryians call them their own tanks, and some of them are made by them, but all their best is shipped over the seas,” Gerovic said, “The Federation likes to make their gear simple to make and simple to operate. Blocky and no-nonsense. Ugly things, really, I like the look of you peoples’ tanks better, but you can’t deny they work well.”

“How did they measure up, then,” you asked.
>>
“Well enough,” Gerovic said, “Good enough to fight. Which is how the Federation likes it. They don’t need anything to be exceptional, they just want it to be a capable enough vehicle to slim it down and cut the costs and make so many of them that they can throw them wherever they like. No matter how fancy a tank is, what matters is that you have more, after all. That’s how the Federation does things. For all their claims of democracy and liberty of the whole they can’t enforce their ambitions and beliefs without the sword, and they need a lot of those for how much territory there is. How many enemies it’s gotten, from how large it’s become.”

“Yet you still support them, in opinion, at least?”

“Of course I do,” Gerovic smiled at you while walking backwards, in front of you, arms swung out in a shrug, “Force is how it all comes down in the end. Eventually, it’s got to go that way. I see this arrangement as temporary. Eventually, Caelus will come over and it’ll all be decided in their favor. Stand in the Great Maelstrom if you like, but all the defiance you put up will be scoured away by the time it’s over. Bask in the sun instead of raging against it.”

“I’m sure you think that’s inevitable. Does the Major agree?”

“She’s picked as much as she could already,” Gerovic’s eyes had a dark glee to them, as though he hadn’t given up nearly as much as one thought he might, or that what he knew wasn’t terribly important, either way, he didn’t consider it a loss, “For now, I’m a useful little doggie, but I don’t think having me in your pocket will be much help in…” He tapped his chin, “Four, maybe five years. I don’t see why you can’t trust me on that. How much of the world have you seen, Richter? I’ve seen quite a lot, by now. Maybe you should travel more.”

“We’ll see,” you said, the amount of time Gerovic predicted seeming so much a guess that any concern you had melted away. Much could change in that amount of time. Much had changed in less…

-----

The Major indeed intercepted you and Gerovic- she appeared the same as usual, though in Strossvald she hardly needed to hide- even less so since there was nobody else about this early, in a sleepier neighborhood, though one that would wake up and get busier without a doubt. A tight blue-grey leather jacket ensconced her from a scarf-wrapped neck to waist, with dark trousers and long boots up past the knees. High heeled, so that she towered above you, but especially Gerovic. She walked with purpose, and a stern frown on her face.

“My fair lady,” Gerovic bowed, “You’re looking fantastic, as ever.”

He was ignored. “Lieutenant,” she said, with calm expectance.
>>
A salute wasn’t needed. “Major. I heard things haven’t been going too badly for you.”

“They could be going better.” She beckoned with a finger, “Come. Did you prepare your paperwork?”

You hadn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. “I was not expecting to be ambushed by your Caelussian mutt.”

A disdainful glare to Gerovic. “Did you not tell him?”

“It slipped the mind,” Gerovic said innocently.

“You can deliver it later,” the Major seemed more irritated by Gerovic’s forgetfulness than not having a sheaf of papers, “We won’t have terribly much to discuss, but it is important to get it out of the way here.”

The place you were led to was no hole in the wall, but a rather nice, if not very spacious, ground level apartment. Dusted, cleaned, even with a plate of steaming bacon and eggs and toasted bread.

“Eat if you want,” the Major said, “Or don’t. The adjutant who tends this place is soft hearted but shy. Somebody will eat this either way.”

…You were hungry. “This isn’t poisoned or anything, is it?” you asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the Major said harshly, “You are my Lieutenant now. By your own choice, for whatever reason. I don’t believe you need to be coerced, and thus the handicap of poisoning you does nothing for me.” She took off her sunglasses and set them on the table. “Sit, if you like, but I intend for this to be quick.”

“Ah, she frees her eyes, now if only she would free her bosom,” Gerovic said, prompting both you and the Major to stare.

He looked into your eyes, then back at her. For some reason, Gerovic started laughing. Laughing hard, and covering his face as he snorted and snickered.

“What’s so funny?” you asked.

“Oh,” Gerovic gasped and wiped his eyes, “Oh, you wouldn’t get it from where you’re standing.”
>>
“He entertains himself easily enough, you see,” the Major said, “I had considered taking off the jacket. It’s rather toasty in here. I’d rather get this over with now, though. So.” She leaned on the table over you, “You ought to tell me who told you of a recent operation going well.”

“Von Walen,” you said, “He was left behind, and I managed to find him hiding and send him along.”

“He had no clearance to share information with you,” the Major said.

“I gave him a code I had for clearance. He took it.”

“Share that code,” the Major commanded. You did. “…Hm.” She half closed her eyes, “More resourceful than I expected from somebody so lacking in inquisitiveness before.” She laid her hand atop your head and scratched you, “He didn’t mention that you had done that. You did well. It would have been annoying to lose that asset.”

Was petting you like a dog supposed to be a compliment, or degrading? You didn’t want to take that chance, and shuffled your head aside. “Anyways..?”

She refused to let you go so easily, and ruffled your hair harder, before resuming her talk. “Anyways. Your next assignment.” You groaned, “Will not be soon,” she added, “But you ought to be prepared for it. For your contributions, you’re off the hook for three months. That should let you get your affairs in order and grant you some of the summer. Afterwards, you ought to know that you will be asked to repeat your services as a tank officer in a foreign land. Unless you would rather inform upon your territorial services.”

“…” You glowered up at the tall woman, “Not Ellowie again, I take it.”

“No. Places that share a similar instability, uncertainty, though. Vynmark. Vitelia. The northwest of the continent. These are places to keep an eye on, and when more intelligence has been collected and the situation analyzed, then we’ll see what you and your team might do.”

“My team,” you repeated, “So Von Metzeler and Krause?”

“With others,” the Major said, “As I said, you have guaranteed time off. Part of that is because of the present uncertainties, since resources have been tied up. In the meantime, I expect not to be surprised by anything that would be an unpleasant surprise. Remember that the Intelligence Office is a domestic organization before anything else. If our house is not in order, we can’t go on holidays elsewhere. Is that understood?”

“…Yes.” Though you knew she presumed you had secrets already, she had her own as well. All that mattered, you measured, was that nothing intolerable would go ignored…though you wondered where the boundary on that was.

“So. Anything to tell me, then?” the Major grabbed onto your cheek with a hand and turned your head.
>>
“Stop that,” you said, and she let her hand down. “I wanted to ask you something, actually. My close combat skills are…well, substandard.”

“Extremely so,” the Major said, “Your close assault abilities are practically listed as a noncombatant female’s. Luckily for you, you are an armored vehicle commander.”

…That stung a bit. “So I need to train it back up. I was intending to train with my retinue again, she’s skilled in close quarters combat and physical techniques, but in the meantime…the Intelligence Office’s best, somebody so skilled and strong that she isn’t classified as having a physical disability unlike other women, surely she knows some technique, doesn’t she? You must have some powerful technique, just one, that you can share with me to make me a better operative.”

A pause, as the Major stared hard, unblinking. “I prefer your flattery to Gerovics,” she said finally, “Fine. Tell me, Lieutenant. What is the first thing you notice when you look at me?”

“…You’re tall?”

“Think more basically.”

“That you are a woman.”

“Yes,” the Major said, “That means more than you may realize. For better and worse.”

“Much for the better,” Gerovic said, making a frame with his fingers.

“Martial arts have fallen out of practice here,” the Major said, “But they still exist. Still evolving, still influenced. Some from Zhantao, some from other places. What I practice is called Eberkampfen. Boar Fighting. Fighting like a cornered animal, like a wild hog surrounded by hounds, but in nothing like such a defeated tactical position. This is a fighting style where the only objective is to win, with no intent for performance or restraint. Dirty fighting, and if it were not so lacking in prestige, it would be the only combat art known.”

“Why is that?” you asked, “Boxing and bladework seem to have their place no matter what.”

“For the same reason,” the Major said highly, looking down, “That the gun replaced the bow and arrow. Training a man how to deliver a good punch, building strength, learning to make expert holds and pins, can take months. In but days, well-practiced Eberkampfen can let a far weaker fighter defeat a much stronger opponent through cunning application of swift brutality. To exposit better. A decent boxer can take years to train. A decent dirty fighter can take as little as a month. One might not necessarily beat the other, but when the majority of people are not trained in any martial art, it can be the advantage that saves your life. Now, the very first technique. Gerovic. Come here.”

Gerovic strode giddily forward- then snapped back with stunning reflex as the Major shot out a palm for his chin. “Hey there, I’ve not even had dinner with you yet.”
>>
“The palm strike,” the Major said, beckoning to Gerovic again, and moving more slowly, so that he let her demonstrate. “A closed fist wielded poorly can wound the user as much as whom they strike. A good palm strike uses the force of the blow against a vulnerable place, the firmness of the arm against a place not so firm. A fulcrum, like the chin is for the head. You use your palm like so, and at the same time you do this,” She flexed her fingers, and you noticed painted nails dance threateningly over Gerovic’s upper face, “Strike for their eyes. Doing this is certain to set any foe off balance.”

“I see.”

“But you don’t,” the Major said, “Because that is only one step. You saw from my first attempt, didn’t you? Gerovic is an experienced fighter. He saw my attack coming. If a foe predicts your attack, then you do not truly have the initiative. That is what the Magician’s Strike is made to defeat.” She suddenly lashed towards your face, and you flinched- then looked down and saw a hand pointed just below your ribs. “Any fighting is best done with a knife, of course, but the principle is the same. A threatening strike, that hides the true threat. A simple concept, but the Magician’s Strike is differentiated from a normal feint because it has the most distracting sort of false attack. That made for the eyes. Most anybody will recoil from an attack made towards their eyes- they react to it first, as it is all they see and think about. In that illusion, you hide your true objective. As they lean away to avoid, make a strike to their center mass. Under the sternum if they evade backwards, and if they move sideways, then a chop to the throat,” She demonstrated by touching the flat side of her hand to your neck. “Now. Stand up, so I can show you, and then you try it on Gerovic.”

When you stood and the Major did her demonstration in a slowed, deliberate motion, you noticed something…strange.

She fought like Anya did. At least, when it came to this particular technique.

“You are taking to this decently enough for the first time,” the Major said as she watched you move on Gerovic, “That’s all, though. Practice that. Against an unskilled, average opponent, one good dirty trick is enough.”

“…Thank you,” you said, “I hope I won’t have to use it before I’m trained better.”

“Not unless you visit inadvisable venues in your holiday,” the Major said, “So. Was there anything else?”

>?
>>
>>5262939
I'm sure she already has an idea, but we outta tell her about Richter's upcoming promotion. Nothing about the territorial "self defense" squad Richter will be heading though. That might lead her down some dangerous lines of inquiry.
Other than that, she's being pretty vague on the developments happening in Vynmark, Vitelia, ect. More info about those would be excellent even if the info is premature and what she might think would better suit Richter given his track record.
I'd also like to ask what domestic situations she'd like us to keep an eye out for if any. Just to see where her head is at.
Finally, Just ask how she's been doing.
Surely she knows we're doing pretty well with Richter's wedding coming up.
How has she been?
Are government spooks as high up as she is even allowed to have personal lives? Has babysitting Gerovic been occupying much of her time off? Does she even get proper time off?
Friendly conversation shit.
I expect to be shut down, but we might as well give it a shot.
She's been acting comparatively friendly with Richter recently, so we might as well try to keep the positive working relationship.
>>
>>5262939

Mention the promotion but not the posting, if asked just say it's still up in the air (which is half true).

Ask to get documents/briefings sent over regarding those places of interest, she and Richter both know he has a ton of knowledge he needs to relearn post-Trance.
>>
>>5262939
>>5262955
Oh!
Speaking of Rondo. We need to get that info about his wife. Might as well ask about them, and Von Walen and Von Neubaum too while we're at it.
Get a full rundown on the Hounds.

No Von Igel. He's probably just chillin.
>>
>>5262939
Ask about the location of Von Walen.
She mentioned him after all and he's the man we have been looking for.
>>
All good suggestions above, supporting everything.
>>
>>5262939
>?
I have a bit of a domestic affairs question, what is the state of relations between the Von Blum's and the Von Halms? I would rather not stumble into any court politics blind if or when we get a meeting with a Von Halm about repayment for our deeds in Sosaldt.
>>
>>5263118
Seconding this, though more as a QM question rather than Richter asking the Major this in-character. If not I'd rather he try to find out through other means.
>>
>>5262955
>>5262962
>>5262968
>>5262975
>>5263067
Bombardment commences. Concerning promotions and personal lives. Walen and Metzeler.

Writing. This should be the last update for the thread, and then I can do the requested material. So long as I can find it again.

>>5263118
>>5263126
As far as OOC goes, this would be a far better question for one of the actual interested parties, as a minor noble with little prior presence in courts could be readily forgiven for ignorance of such things, were there anything to be concerned about broaching. Though Territorial Lords (or Dukes if you prefer, but that's besides that) have never had their rivalries extend to armed conflict, or anything that drew the attention of the Capital for messing things up too much for their neighbors. To put it more shortly, inter-court drama would be something the Major doesn't really care about compared to active sedition, hostile collusion, and sabotage. The courts can have their bickering if they want.
>>
“I thought you ought to know,” you said with a bit of pride, but not without caution, “That I’ve been told I may receive a promotion. To Major.”

That made the Major raise an eyebrow. “Raised to a position of command, then. Making one as young as you an officer of that rank would make little sense otherwise.”

“I don’t know yet,” you lied, “It’s not a certain thing. I am going to be married to a member of the Von Blum family, and I do have a decent amount of experience leading at such a scale, even if it’s not necessarily within the Archduchy’s official operations.”

“Hm.” The Major squinted suspiciously at you, “If that promotion does go through, you will be in a good position to observe for any warning signs.” You nodded, but she wasn’t done, “If I think you are not being forthcoming, don’t think that you are above scrutiny. You ought to know what’s at stake.”

“Ah, of course,” you swallowed thickly, trying to think of excuses before you’d need them. “Should I be keeping an eye out for anything? Domestically, I mean.”

“If you are to remain in the Blumlands,” the Major sad, “You should keep an eye out for Imperialist seperatists. The Von Blums claim to have mostly dealt with them. I would question how they managed to establish themselves to the degree that they engaged in armed fighting, growing daring enough to attack military transports. That is a question not satisfactorily answered in my eyes, even if the local authorities have decided to let it pass. Territories have their sense of independence and prestige, but a surprise such as that does not come from nowhere, and cannot be repeated. Not with the situation in the capital as it is.”

“The succession, you mean?”

“Somewhat.” The Major’s eyes went to the door behind, “Be back at an hour past noon!” She barked at Gerovic as he left.

“Where’s he going?” you turned your head.

The Major didn’t think that worth answering. “As I was saying. There is the matter of succession. Alden Von Strossvald is six years old, and the Archduke is not in the best health, but more than that, Archduke Siegfried has decided to neglect many of his duties of authority. This has allowed some elements to try and position themselves to take advantage of that, or prepare for the consequences of not having done so,” she crossed her arms, “Including the Intelligence Office. The Capital’s authority must be maintained for the Archduchy to remain powerful. His majesty has been drowning his grief in the loss of a second son with parties, drugs, and young women. One of whom he has been fraternizing inappropriately with being the youngest daughter of the Lord Von Blum.”

That made your eyes widen. “Truly..?”
>>
“It is nothing for the Intelligence Office to be concerned about on its own. Affairs and adultery are not necessarily dangerous to the country on their own, but when they combine with other factors, patterns emerge. That is not your particular concern, though. You are a field operative, not an analyst. Don’t strain your mind trying to piece together everything. Sometimes, not being knowledgeable is a necessity to assume a place in a plan.”

…You certainly knew the value of that, now. “It sounds as though you’ve had a stressful time lately. You’re still watching over Gerovic even here. Don’t you have a personal life? Time off?”

“That is not something you need to be concerned about the details of, Lieutenant,” the Major shut you out without hesitation, “I find time when I wish it. Watching over agents is not something I do alone, nor is it strenuous. It is much easier, though, when there are no obligations for family or status, to slot in recreation…” She drew her finger across the table’s surface towards you, “A passion for important duties helps, as you may find out. Satisfaction of work done well for a cause you support. Marriages and the securing of them are hardly events that take place without great effort.”

“I suppose you must have heard of that,” you said, “It’s finally happening, and it won’t be delayed for another time. I do appreciate having the time to enjoy it some, though those locations you mentioned…I can get briefed on what’s going on there, yes? At the very least, can I have a quick explanation of why there’s interest?”

“Dossiers will be given,” the Major walked around you, and despite not claiming interest in the food, she retrieved a point of toast and a slab of bacon. “Vynmark is unlikely to be a destination for you, given the time it will take before you are obligated to be available again. Twaryi is extremely likely to invade, possibly as soon as the next weeks. As valuable as it will be to observe their operations and capabilities, such is not a place for you in particular to go. They know of you as somebody who operated against them, and using you to aid Vynmark is ill advised considering how the conflict is expected to play out. In a Twaryian victory, given the amount of Caelussian aid in spite of their occupation troubles in Ellowie.”

“The Vitelian region of the continent is also at war, though,” you said, “So heavy conflict zones are not a limitation?”
>>
“In Vitelia, the power differences are more even, more nuanced,” the Major explained as she bit into the bread, and swallowed before continuing. “There will be significant change coming, as one of the vying states is sure to claim superiority over the others soon. Revolutionaries are, of course, people the Archduchy is opposed to on principle, so checking their strength in any fashion is quite important. Especially with the rise of the Social Republic to its north- a Utopian political coup for the west, though the Reich must be more concerned than we are. More important than Pohjanazkh is Revolutionary Vitelia, who are most expected to claim the Vitelian region as a whole. Last year, the Revolutionary Army of Greater Vitelia held the greatest sway, but they were embarrassed in Halmeggia, and lost their clout to the current power. The Revolutionary Confederacy of Greater Vitelia. The political turmoil of the changing of the guard has mostly subsided…a decisive move in the near future is expected. So we’re waiting on what that may be.”

“If it’s too much to handle,” you made an assumption, considering how distant Vitelia was without the aid of a major intervention such as deployment of the Silver Lances, “That’s the northwest option’s opening, then?”

“Indeed.” The Major folded the bread in half and ate the rest of the bacon and toast. “…Little is known for certain about that region. Its distance from Strossvald precludes particular mindfulness about it, but both the Imperials and Revolutionaries have interest in the region. As Trelan and the new United Pohjanazkh engage militarily for influence, that region becomes another place susceptible to pivotal changes. An ability to exploit events in our favor with comparatively little resources,” her eyes flashed down to you, “Such as in Netilland and Ellowie. Though, it is still too early for you to be certain what you might be asked to do, but know that you will be well furnished with information. After all. Every point of interest I mentioned has now had an advance team deployed expressly for that purpose of collecting information and setting up bases and relationships for future operations.”

“Future operations with my “team,” I take it,” you looked towards the food and were newly tempted, “Where are they right now? I want to get back in contact with them. Particularly Von Walen. I want his special help concerning a…historical artifact. He has interest in such, after all.”

“Easy.” The Major declared, and wrote an address and number down, “This place will furnish you with information on operatives. I’ll call ahead and tell them what you want. Nobody should be moving about too much right now. Especially not Von Walen or Von Metzeler, nor Von Igel. Von Neubaum may be more difficult, as well as Krause, with his lack of particular household.”
>>
“I haven’t met back up with some of them in a while,” you said, “Can you tell me how they’re doing?”

“Von Igel and Von Neubaum have been lent to another officer for some time, but they will be returned soon. They operated in Plisseau, now the region of Almizea, with Von Walen. Since conflict has been spurred there, they’ve been withdrawn, though from what I have been told, Von Neubaum has done his best to establish a link to the titular city state. For whatever reason. We’ll see if that becomes a wise investment, but he ought not to hope that he will abscond there so readily.”

“You don’t seem eager to speak of him,” you observed.

“Von Neubaum has transformed into quite the womanizer,” the Major said with a look of passing thought on her face, “I’m unsure as to how or why, or if it’s merely an expression of something he kept hidden. I rather dislike an operative being an enigma in that fashion. Carrying on affairs in foreign countries, having a harem as he likes, it is a poor luxury for the danger in exchange.”

“So you don’t like that he’s a womanizer,” you said, though it did give you some distaste.

“Hardly. I have some womanizing tendencies myself. It is merely that he acts carelessly about it.”

“You…do?” you coughed, but shook your head at the glare returned. “Never mind. So he has been returned. To his home, I take it?”

“Yes,” the Major picked her sunglasses up off the table and cleaned them with a cloth from her pocket, “As did Von Igel. He has a family to mind after, and given his aptitude for clerical work, he may be exempted from future field operations, for efficiency’s sake. Von Metzeler is at the home of his new spouse, the estate of Von Schneeberg. His friend is not firmly established, but given his request for participation in a recent operation was monetary compensation, I doubt he is rootless as he may claim. Von Walen has been provided land and a small home to start on. Last I heard, he was moving to try and live there, humble as it is. Between visiting a foreign visitor whose life he saved. I doubt they have compatibility, though. That runty man has the charm of a horsefly.”
>>
“Von Schneeberg, though,” you said, “Tell me about them. Von Metzeler never said all that much, and we haven’t met again since we left Ellowie.”

“In brief?” the Major put on her sunglasses, “One father, one daughter. Count Von Schneeberg is ill with a hereditary heart disease, and Klaudia Von Schneeberg, now Klaudia Von Metzeler-Schneeberg, is his only heir. However they secured the marriage, house Von Metzeler’s line now stands to inherit the county, mostly Altossian farmland. Klaudia Von Schneeberg is of little note. A relatively respected small name in the research of folklore. Not of a sort of threat that would concern the Intelligence Office.”

“Thank you anyways,” you said, looking about, and grabbing another toast point, “That was all. I ought to be going, I have a few meetings to arrange…”

“Get your paperwork in before you go,” the Major said as she moved for a window and glanced out it- not looking for anything, it seemed, but somehow wistful.

“Of course.” You nodded your head, and went out the door. So Von Walen had new property…and Von Metzeler had gotten properly married before you did. Anya had to be retrieved, as well. Plenty to plan and do. Yet what was on your mind as you walked out and away, was what Gerovic must have found was so funny earlier…

-----
>>
That'll be all for updates this thread. Thanks for playing, I'll make a new thread a couple weeks from now, maybe a bit earlier. I'm thinking the next thread will wrap up this arc, and after that, there'll be the new side story, though that should hopefully not take as much time as Luftpanzer did.

As for drawing requests, I have this here-
>>5233686
For the autogyro sketch,
>>5242973
And another for the planes. There's another somewhere, I want to say, that's escaping my notice.

I'm also planning to draw at least one picture of a panzer girl in a (setting accurate) swimsuit or beachwear Though it's still far more exposing either way than irl beachwear might be for the summer coming up, idk if it's something that should be put to a vote, but I guess a general opinion of who you all would appreciate most might be good.

The joke with the Anya one has been utterly fucked up by a twitter image reformat, tragically.

As always, any comments or questions are welcome.
>>
>>5263667
Thanks for running.
>>
>>5263667
Thanks for the thread bud, it was a good one.
I nominate Eakova for the beachwear vote, with the caveat that the beach has to have at least 1 crab.
>There's another somewhere
>>5237188 Asked for a sketch of the White Ribbon of Grace and the Silver Shield of Roland
>>
>>5263667
I'd say Maddy, but Richter might just see her in a swimsuit yet.
Soooooooooo, how aboooooooooout.
Hilda? Don't think we've put her in one yet.
>>
>>5263744
>I'd say Maddy, but Richter might just see her in a swimsuit yet.
You're having your honeymoon on a southerly peninsula surrounded with luxury beachfront.
I think that's a fair bet to make, unless she is exceptionally cruel.
>>
>>5263772
>I think that's a fair bet to make, unless she is exceptionally cruel.
Still a very real possibility for that depending on how we get Richter to handle his little talk with her that still needs to happen.
>>
>>5263667
Thanks for running. Also medals sketches.
>>
>>5263667
>a general opinion of who you all would appreciate most might be good
Pact
>>
>>5263667
Also

>I'm also planning to draw at least one picture of a panzer girl in a (setting accurate) swimsuit or beachwear Though it's still far more exposing either way than irl beachwear might be for the summer coming up, idk if it's something that should be put to a vote, but I guess a general opinion of who you all would appreciate most might be good.

Owl 3
>>
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>>5263739
>>5263892
Ah right, medals.

Easy enough. Though perhaps more interesting than the designs which were haphazardly made up is the lore behind one which was also now haphazardly made up, but I like it.

The present emblem of the Archduchy is the royal lotus, an imported flower but nevertheless a symbol of significance to Von Strossvald and the Confederation Accords which defined the place of nobility in the new state of the Archduchy as the defenders of the rights of the common folk. However, that was not always the case. The actual familial emblem of Von Strossvald is the Ironwood Leaves- specifically, the Silver Ironwood, said to have been the strongest wood in the world, ancient, and blunter of steel and iron both.

This legendary tree has somewhat a problem, though. The legendary part. Though the Silver Ironwood Grove is the namesake of Von Strossvald, the tree species itself is either extinct, or never existed in the first place. Some mementos of the Archduchy are said to be made of this legendary wood, but the location of the Grove itself has been lost to time and never found, which makes more than a few believe it was complete fiction. So, the Von Strossvald emblem has had the very real Lotus and its symbolism to the state supplant the Ironwood, but as the emblem of Roland and his son was the Ironwood, so the Silver Shield of Roland continues to hold them. A tree of unbreakable valor, regardless of if there are any to even behold in this age.

The White Ribbon of Grace, as a symbol of personal heroism, is meant to be worn above other awards. There is no particular restriction on what to be over- just that it is not placed below another award. So, arranged like in this picture would be a normal and acceptable way of wearing the ribbon. Its austerity lends to the ability to place it in such a fashion.

Anyways. Aircraft next. I do have to say, the spread of requests is rather interesting, as far as coming from different cultures goes. Women's swimwear of the Reich would certainly differ from trends of Sosaldt or the Archduchy. Let alone those of the mountains, which have no beaches, but do have springs to bathe in. For obvious reasons I would not depict Pact in the actual swimwear of hot springs bathing, which would be no wear at all.
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>>5264133
How does the Von Blum coat of arms look like again?
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>>5264141
I have that ready at hand. A chrysanthemum- of sorts. West-imported flowers are popular in places, but then, they were imported quite some time ago, as well, in some cases reaching back to the end days of last vestiges of Nauk Imperial just over over one thousand years ago.
>>
>>5264133
Those look great, thanks for the sketch.

Also with the impending promotion and all I was wondering if you've ever brainstormed about what Strossvald rank insignia would look like?
>>
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Autogyros, now. Both the transport testbed type, and the more familiar and widely used reconnaissance type. A somewhat lengthed version of the bottom one can be used as a taxi.

As I've said before, I'm no aeronautics engineer. So far as I've seen, actual autogyros seem to function primarily based upon how ugly they are, so I took creative liberty on that front.

>>5264197
>Also with the impending promotion and all I was wondering if you've ever brainstormed about what Strossvald rank insignia would look like?
While there's no big chart of them, they've actually already shown up. Strossvald uniforms have their rank insignia on the collar- the particular rank is marked by how many stripes are on the steel clip on the collar. A junior lieutenant has one hollow stripe, a lieutenant has three hollow stripes, a captain has two black and one hollow.

...At least, that's what I can see from looking back in pictures. A lieutenant could very well have two and not three. Enlisted crew and infantrymen also have their rank mark elsewhere. As far as Richter is concerned, though, his rank is on his neck, as far as quick and easy looking goes.

Had to fix a line on the heavy gyro, so that the rotor was looking like it was in the right spot.
>>
>>5264577
Noice. This might be another retarded question but are the landing gear on the larger gyro fixed? Looking at the smaller one in the Ellowie OP image, it does appear to have the wheels visible while in flight.
Considering the roles these birds are intended for, I'm guessing the added drag of the wheels sticking out isn't all that much of an issue either way.
>>
>>5264577
What would a Major's insignia be then?

Going to be interesting to see how Richter juggles running a battalion with his IO job, unless the Von Blums are willing to hire them like the Capital does with the Lances....
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>>5264641
>are the landing gear on the larger gyro fixed?
They are. They don't exactly go fast enough to benefit from reduced drag over mechanical simplicity, I think.

>>5264653
>What would a Major's insignia be then?
I'd tentatively say three black stripes, but don't expect me to stick to that when I actually get everything set down.
Of course, the IO would not share the army markings, as they are not under the authority of the capital armed forces command whatsoever and are unofficially a paramilitary organization, officially a police one.
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>>5264945
Do you have an updated copy of the world map now that our campaign with the Lances is done?
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And here's the other Ellowian fighters, the K26E and the SAC-99. Posted with the K-19 for posterity. Sizes are not relative. Both then and now it was a little funny to me that the old plane was the one picked, favoring not breaking down.
It's only been, what a year and a half.

>>5265350
The world map file's always on hand, but I haven't made the necessary considerations to finalize changes besides the Netillian Republic's return of Ellowian land to its pre-conquest borders, though not to pre-1932 borders. I probably won't until next thread.
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>>5266204
Nice SAC. How is the Republic's acquisition of air assets going on? We didn't see much of the new Republican armour mentioned during the ride with the Lances, - aside from Fram and Narr's tanks, with the former probably not the best representative of the wider forces - do they finally possess the great equaliser that is a permanent fleet of fighting aircraft yet? Did the Netillians leave much salvagable materiel behind in their withdrawal for them to collect up?
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>>5266204
How does AA get distributed in the Strossvald military? Are Battalions expected to provide their own, or do Regiments distribute them like >>5252846 suggests?
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>>5266204
Nice planes, could you do a version of the K-19 but in Netillian livery?

Also since >>5266377 brought up salvage was wondering how the Lances are typically paid for their contracts. Does the Archduchy demand hard cash/cheque or are other forms of payment accepted (such as salvage rights or tech transfers)?
>>
>>5266377
>How is the Republic's acquisition of air assets going on? We didn't see much of the new Republican armour mentioned during the ride with the Lances, - aside from Fram and Narr's tanks, with the former probably not the best representative of the wider forces - do they finally possess the great equaliser that is a permanent fleet of fighting aircraft yet? Did the Netillians leave much salvagable materiel behind in their withdrawal for them to collect up?
Building an air force from scratch is quite expensive, on top of having to organize and equip an army in the first place.. The Netillians left as little as they could- and no aircraft, if they could help it. Suffice it to say, whatever is possessed is in very small numbers and mostly unsuited for modern war rather than courier service or scouting, at best.

Depending on whose counsel the Minister of the People follows, it will either remain this way until Mittelsosalia has the economy (and government infrastructure) to support a significant armed forces expansion without cratering what growth it has, or one will have to be bought in a hurry upon the backs of expensive loans. It all depends on whether one thinks Xenakis or Wossehn has the correct view of what is to be done in the future.

>>5266551
>>5266204 (You)
How does AA get distributed in the Strossvald military? Are Battalions expected to provide their own, or do Regiments distribute them like >>5252846 suggests?
The Battle Line doctrine assigns anti-aircraft assets as it would artillery- so yes, it is distributed from higher above. The doctrine of having no weak place on the front would theoretically ensure any incursion is met by a withering barrage of flak- which has worked well enough thus far, but then, the Archduchy hasn't faced an air force powerful enough yet to make them change their ways to focus more on active air control, even if it's what their theorists expect in the near future...

>>5266609
>Nice planes, could you do a version of the K-19 but in Netillian livery?
Sure, why not.
>Also since >>5266377 brought up salvage was wondering how the Lances are typically paid for their contracts. Does the Archduchy demand hard cash/cheque or are other forms of payment accepted (such as salvage rights or tech transfers)?
Usually, payment is long term. Favorable trade rights, mineral resources, loans, et cetera that is often a diplomatic investment. The Lances are also usually sent to help resolve events in a way that is politically favorable to the Archduchy or their interests in the region as well, so usually, the rate of loss to gain of elite soldiers and equipment to resources is positive. The most notable example is of course Baou, who still supplies Strossvald with gold and mineral wealth in their long term payment arrangement for aiding their breaking from Netilland.
However, the recent campaign was paid for with Ellowie's evacuated gold reserves, as a sort of down payment in inclusion to things further down the line.
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>>5266609
I also had the UFkz-31B on the backburner so I finished that and put it there, the Damselfly, as it's known. An actual Netillian plane, unlike the one below.

Somehow painting an Ellowian plane in Netillian colors felt like some sort of corruption more so than the tanks ever did.
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>>5267442
I know the K-19 is supposed to be the oldest model but somehow it looks the most modern lol. Maybe it's the cockpit design?
>>
Once Richter has that rank secured we really should ask somebody what the deal with shelling that town in Valsten with food colouring was all about.
>>
>>5270167
Yep, it baffles me to this day.



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