[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Board:  
Settings   Home
4chan
/qst/ - Quests


File: tcqop_77.jpg (399 KB, 1394x800)
399 KB
399 KB JPG
“Loch. You’ve come back to have a talk about the grander schemes of our world, I take it.”

“Why, Ganze, I could very well have been asking if you’d like to go out to a Vitelian bistro. A more inland styled one, not so fond of Halmeggian obsessions with seafood.”

“We could certainly not go together. If you are feeling like eating such, you could merely ask for it here.”

“You’re not in a good mood, are you? Why, has the object of affection assigned for you not been feeling like coming any closer?”

“Yours neither, Loch.”

“You wound me. That does remind me, though…did some of our friends have to die? I was under the impression that regrettable losses were a mistake.”

“On some level they were. On another they weren’t Sigmund would have understood. I’d like to believe he does, at least. Don’t you agree?”

“Somewhat. Though I wonder if your conflict would be the same as mine if there was a similar regrettable loss for you.”

“Humph. So I take it that she asked you about him, and you had no answer to give?”

“She had her suspicions. I told her nothing that was secret. As unsatisfied as I am with some things, there is a greater purpose in motion. Alexander’s ambition, that his life was too brief to see through, and his ideology too self-centered and flawed to accomplish with what time he had. That for the sake of its greatness to come, Humanity must become something beyond its individual parts. A Grand Organism, a proper sum of its history, accomplishments, and potential.”

“How many decades were spent by our friends and mentors for such a lofty dream.”

“Alexander thought it might be like raising a dog, or perhaps a child. As one of his position and ego was wont to do. He himself was not evolved enough in his thinking, because of that view of himself as such an individual force. His ambition would have been more like raising a tree. Perhaps even a forest.”

“And here we are, perhaps able to see this orchard bear fruit, perhaps not.”

“Yet for how many decades one plan was in motion, how many centuries were the others making for a similar plan? They will stand in our way, if they are not already. Regardless of what of their whims we fulfill. Yet you’ve come to me to bemoan that a woman does not favor you?”

“I am frustrated, admittedly. We are brethren. You were hiding nothing from me, were you?”

“Of course not. Never. Are you from me?”

“My answer is the same as yours.”

“Then we are in agreement. There are other matters to speak of, while we are on this track. The troubles to the west are set to intensify once more. We ought to hold some meetings to see what we can do about them.”

“Yet we have our own internal difficulties, Ganze. Hence why I am remaining home so much longer now. I’m not cowering here like a whipped dog.”

“Yes…the situation is not good, but I believe in us. In our people. We will find some way to overcome. We have sufficient might and will for that.”

“Most certainly.”
>>
-----

The founding regions of the Republic of Mittelsosalia had worked itself up into a frenzy of optimistic preemptive drunkenness on the sweet draught of victory, even though the forces that had gone out only increased, and few had returned yet from an ongoing war. All the news that came back was of triumph, validation, no word of great defeat, only of how the northern lords once feared had been beaten into cooperation, and how the Netillian had been driven into flight. No regard was had for the actual proportion that the Republic’s forces made up of the total force, nor for the grievances of the actual Republic trooper who might share different, less confident tales on their return. For now, there was naught but endless hope for the future amongst the common population, who had seen their circumstances turned head over heels since as early as last year.

Such a mood extended even to the recently incorporated Gusseisenholz, to be the new capital of the Republic, though word had gone around of a new city to be constructed, called Freiheidtstadt- no evidence of such beside rumor, but the mood of the Republic that had only seen wins assumed such was true with little hesitation. What couldn’t the Republic do, after all?

A less glad view of the situation was held amongst the highest offices of the Republic’s fledgling government, in the repurposed City Hall of Gusseisenholz, shared with the city’s local authorities.

The Minister of War of Mittelsosalia was far from home- and he missed it so, but there was no going back now. He would be hunted there- and here, he could still fight yet. Even if his brave comrades from Petrekora were all gone, trapped in the last desperate holdouts against the Federation tide, and these new potential allies against Caelus were…not what he thought they would be. Xenakis thought little of the young girl who had found herself in command of an even more youthful nation when he arrived, but he had grown to respect her accomplishments nevertheless. Signy Vang was brave and determined enough…though short of life experience, and she didn’t have an appearance that commanded respect, either. It made the former general concerned- that the people of the Republic of Mittelsosalia would not see what he’d like them to see in a leader in proper power.

Especially not with this stunt she was pulling now, when the Ministers of the Republic were meant to be having a meeting on an operation of great importance, if only a brief one.
>>
While Xenakis had donned the austere uniform of his new nation, the Minister of the People was not dressed in her usual attire for this meeting- as it shared time presently with a photography session- the austerity of the council meeting room was replaced by a set of props and matte paintings made to mimic a beach and stones- and the young lady was dressed for the part in the regional fashion for such. Attire directly inspired by the working “clothes” of sponge and pearl divers consisting of a bandeau top and either briefs or shorts, the latter in this case. The appeal of this normally practical costume was obvious, and the only change made for what this head of state was having pictures of her taken in was the bright red and blue hue. A wrap of cloth bandages was around her lower ribs, still- from a wound she had taken weeks before, that while much better than it had been, had still been left on by the photographer’s insistence. Her gloves also remained on, by her own choice.

Xenakis was bemused by this spectacle, but more annoyed that he had to share a meeting with whatever this was supposed to be. “Pardon me, Miss Vang,” he cleared his throat as the Minister of the People leaned on a false prop stone on an artificed beach, “but do you not think this is untoward of a government official of your status? This should be embarrassing.” He spoke in competent enough New Nauk but still colored by a strange accent unlike one anybody would recognize.

“I am embarrassed, so much that I couldn’t even handle this yesterday,” Vang said with a put upon frown, “This is stupid, but I’m a young woman. I have to use what advantages I have, the embarrassment doesn’t matter at all compared to the good this might do. Some people who won’t hear rhetoric will listen to this instead. Besides,” she touched her bare stomach, “I’ve had to fast for a good week for this. I’ve barely eaten a thing since two mornings past. The bridge is already crossed.”

Xenakis crossed his arms and huffed. “I hope that this is a wise investment.”

“It cost nothing, War Minister,” The Minister of the People said with a sigh.

The photographer gave a thumbs up and a flash came out. “Excellent,” he said with a clap to get his subject’s attention, whose expression became one of surprise. Perhaps that the face she put on was chosen for the last photo. “Now sit on it and lean back, cross a leg over another. Arm up, hand behind your head.”

“It costs much less than weapons and supplies do,” Vang said as she assumed the pose requested, “Less than tanks, medicine, fuel, trucks…The discomfort is a tiny price to pay.”

“You should-“ Xenakis started, but was interrupted.

“Raise your arm higher.”
>>
“Do not interrupt me, you lens peeping degenerate!” Xenakis snapped at the photographer, before looking to Signy, “As I was saying, the Minister of the People, the Cyclops, should consider that she should not be viewed as an object of titillation.”

“Anybody who would think less of me for this already has a low opinion of me just for what I am,” Signy said disinterestedly, “The men appreciate that I’ve been on the battlefield with them. If they don’t appreciate this sort of thing- and I’ve been told they would- then they won’t forget what I’ve shared with them,” She pointed to the thin bandage wrap around her torso, “No revolution takes place without the hearts of the people marching with you as certainly as their boots, as my father said. I trust you with matters of war, General. Trust me on this one. And work with Wossehn better.”

Xenakis snorted at the mention of the rich dandy, but he did have respect for this bold young woman, managing her station, somehow, while a mere twenty years old. Her eyes did not have the uncertainty a woman of her age usually did. Xenakis had heard that the wastes of Sosaldt forged some, hardened them like heat does steel, if they were stout enough of heart.

Though a part of him felt that it was somewhat a tragedy that so young a woman should have those eyes.

A flash of the camera, again. Immediately after, a familiar, grating call.

“Good tidings, every one and all,” the dapper, glittering form of the gaudily garbed Minister of Economy strode confidently into the room, looking like a pile of silver pieces, and he stood next to the general. “Oh, my, Lady Vang, you look stunning, so much for your apprehension, hm?”

The Minister of the People furrowed her brows and looked down, biting her lip, “I don’t want to be flattered in these…clothes. But I appreciate it.”

“The Republic will appreciate you much more, my lady. There is no shame to be had in having confidence in a young and healthy body. War Minister.” He tipped his sparkling silver bowler cap to Xenakis, “You should be more supportive of the leader of our Republic.”

“Humph,” the general opened a folder he had tucked into his jacket, “Finally, we can start.” He whipped a sheaf of paper from the jacket. ”The Third Corps,” Xenakis read off a page, “Has had most of their fighting men complete their training. Yet they are untested. Unready. I appreciate that the Minister of the People has recognized the need for greater mobilization, but I believe it would be more wise to wait for the conflict in the north to end, so that the Second Corps would be used in this coming operation.”
>>
The Second Corps was the official name for the troops that had been secured for use from the armed forces of the new northern territories, whom had not long ago been enemies in war. The First Corps were the initial troops ready to fight at the beginning- and were the most blooded, though practically they and the Second Corps were comparable in skill and equipment. That was not true of the new Third Corps, whose divisions had the numbers but neither experience nor war materiel, being of a second recruitment wave that had missed the fiercest battles, though being people of Sosaldt they were certainly not soft, either.

“We don’t have the time for that,” the Minister of the People said, twisting to the side following the motions of the photographer to show her back, keeping her head turned, “And the Third Corps will have to have their first fight as part of the Army of the Republic at some point. Better this as a first blood than the Northern Lords and Netilland.”

“We don’t have time?” Xenakis repeated, uncertain. He was not a political man, but Wossehn already knew what the girl was talking about. It wouldn’t be repeated- yet.

The photographer and his crew might not have expected to sit in on this meeting. However, they would also not be allowed to stop being guests until their work was ready to print- well after the operation would have begun.
The Minister of the People’s response was quick. “Basically, I need everybody to do their jobs well, and to not be dragging any feet. Speaking of. How many more?”

“Three, though I’ll want multiple takes of each, like before,” the photographer said, “One of you lying down on your front, one more standing and stretching, and one lying on your back off the rock. All of them oughta be…flirty. Elly, go help her get that top adjusted for that, hey?”

“This will only be a moment,” Signy said as one of the assistants came up to shift her bandeau, “Sorry, Wossehn, Xenakis. It sounds like I’ll need to smile for these.” The look in her eyes said what was needed, though- she was finishing this business because she wanted these people gone for what would be next.

So it was done- but the Minister Vang remained perched on the stone even as the photography crew left, the false sun of a prop light still shining down on her as her face fell into a frown, alone with these two men who co-governed the Republic.

“What did you mean,” Xenakis said, “By us not having time? Yes, Caelus will come, but when I refer to haste on that matter…”
>>
“War Emergency Powers,” Wossehn told the foreign general with a waving finger, a mocking motion for a man in such high position to not know laws whose drafts still had wet ink. “Authority bequeathed upon the Minister by the elected representatives of the people, and withdrawn upon cessation of unpleasantries. However, Miss Vang…said representatives have not yet had their elections to properly select them. Do you expect this new operation to take place satisfyingly enough to not foment discontent over the extension of executive powers?”

The Minister of the People flicked her eyes to Wossehn, and her hand clenched, “They’ll have to,” she said, “And I’d rather things be quickened by settlements and groups seeing how they could gain from being part of the Republic, and joining without a fight. Though I know there’s plenty who won’t. I want repeats of Sundersschirm, but without the battle. That still means having force on the table, or else they won’t see that there’s only two choices.”

“That was not the point I desired to have expounded,” Wossehn scratched his nose, “After all, with the addition of new territories, even the coming elections will prove outdated. I agonize that your Republic may outgrow your popularity should your caution not grow sufficiently as well, my lady. Our economic growth cannot be outpaced by the need for conquest, else we neglect this promising young babe, and they would freeze in a night of our own creation. Money does not spring from nowhere, and money gained from conquest alone only brings enemies we can ill afford to have more of.”

“They will not be enemies. They will be members of our nation, doing as well as the rest of us, giving, benefiting. For the sake of the Republic,” the Minister of the People said with dark resolve, “They cannot cling to their independence and keep their wastes as they’ve always had. That way of life is in the past, and they will either join us, or be burned by another. We will be the shield of their liberty whether or not they agree. Xenakis.” She flashed her eyes over, and Xenakis stiffened- one side of his experience told him to glower in contempt, but another made him stand at attention regardless. “Take whatever time you need to plan a quick and decisive action. No amount of force is too great; they will be offered a chance to join with us peacefully, or they will be crushed. The new truth must become apparent, that all of Sosaldt will be Mittelsosalia.”

“Immediately, Miss Vang.” The general from across the ocean saluted and turned around to leave. Machinations would be in place before any knew about it.
>>
Wossehn’s head followed the general out the door, and he didn’t look back to Signy for a minute. “I can’t say that I’m terrifically pleased about this,” he said with an uncharacteristic shortness.

“It’s just how it has to be. I’m tired, Wossehn,” Signy said as she slid off the stone and walked over to the table where her things were, plucking a cigarette from a box and holding a lighter to it while it was stuck in her lip, “I’d like to just join hands and talk everything out forever, if only it weren’t so much simpler to just…” She turned to lean on the table, and Wossehn felt that the photographer would have liked this unintended shot too, as the Minister of the People smoked with one hand on the table, the other holding her cigarette between her fingers, still in the swimsuit with her sweater under an arm, “That was all. I’m fine now. Let me be.”

It was not a command. Yet the lord of Wossehnalia took it like one regardless.

-----

In Strosstadt, Richter Von Tracht had only recently left the place where his Intelligence Office overseer had summoned him. Yet he was barely around the corner by the time his commander’s own superior rounded the same place, though the young officer did not recognize him, despite having seen him before. For he was ever so slightly different from when he had last encountered him- enough to fool the mind into believing it was simply another plainly dressed white hair. This Lieutenant Colonel of the Intelligence Office had no business with Von Tracht- such was the project of his own favored junior.

The Lieutenant Colonel opened the door to the low-level IO safehouse (more a spare guest house than a secured space), and when it was behind him, closed it, all in one smooth motion, his eyes fixed forward. “Major,” he called.

“I am here, sir,” the Major strode forward and saluted, “Was there something that you wanted?”

“I saw the recently promoted Lieutenant come out of here,” the Lieutenant Colonel stood still, a small older man but without frailty of mind or muscle, despite the rapid retreat of all the hair atop his head, which he revealed when he doffed his cap. “Has he turned in his report?”

“Not yet. Gerovic did not bother telling him to finish it before coming here.” The Major sat. She would not look down at the Lieutenant Colonel. “Sir. You were not coming to fetch that, were you?”

“No, I was only curious,” the old man glanced backwards, “Considering his case. His history, his family.”

“Gerovic looked at both of us and laughed at something,” the Major said tersely, “Do you think he suspects…?”

“What would he have to be suspicious of?” the Lieutenant Colonel asked coyly.
>>
“…I suppose it’s not anything that he would consider important.” The Major crossed one leg over the other, and tilted her chair back. “What conditioning could be forced on him might have messed with his head. I didn’t want to follow on it because it might have been something like that. He’s already a deceptive and playful sort. He doesn’t make it easy to tell when he’s taking something seriously, though it’s difficult for him to tell a lie anymore. Not to me.”

“Don’t underestimate him,” the Lieutenant Colonel’s tone went terse. “My actual business here, now. I thought you would like to know the official analysis of your operation and its theoretical conclusions,” He whipped a paper out from his jacket, swished it straight, and read, in an abridged fashion, considering that the document was not written plainly, “Risk of biological attack with facility in hands of prospective victors is low. While deployment mechanisms nor documentation remained intact, the microbe and ready means of production of it were both destroyed, delaying deployment satisfactorily to the parameters of the mission. Prospective victim count, thirty million minimum, possible of two hundred million.” He looked up from the page, “This will never be publicly acknowledged as ever occurring, but I thought that you might appreciate the consequences of your efforts regardless. I’m rather pleased, myself.”

“The analysts love to be dramatic, don’t they,” the Major said flatly, “At this point I’m more concerned about what Willen was trying to hide. What he was trying to do. What he might attempt as retaliation.”

“Thus far, he will attempt nothing,” the Lieutenant Colonel said, resolved as an iron nail in that judgment. “The drama of the analysts served an important purpose, in that Willen was unable to ignore it, or claim that it was unnecessary to act on personal initiative. In exchange for no contradiction of the statement that he allowed our operation himself rather than him being ignorant, we can expect no trouble in the short term. I would remain wary for the future, however. The man has a history of having many plans, and them being quite long term.”

“Plenty of people have long term plans. Most of them don’t work out the way they thought they would.”

“Hopefully that’s the case here. But there’s no reason to not exercise caution.” The older man noticed the half-empty bowl on the table. “Ah. I wasn’t expecting brunch.”

“The adjutant here,” the Major said coolly, “I’m not having any more. You can have it if you want.”

“It would be my pleasure.” The Lieutenant Colonel, with only one hand, took two points of toast and flipped food in between them, making an impromptu bacon and egg sandwich. “The Caelussian acquisition. He is here?”
>>
“No,” the Major flicked a hand towards the door, “He left in a hurry, but I expect it was to the newest set of keys being shaken at him. It’s too much to assume he’s doing anything but entertaining himself.”

“With what?”

“One of Von Tracht’s acquaintances. The Glennzsegler girl.”

“Ah. The sniper’s sister,” the Lieutenant Colonel nodded to himself.

“Her brother decided to make Von Tracht and his sister match for some mad reason, and wounded my best man. As far as Gerovic goes, though, as I said, a harmless distraction for him. He does keep a polite distance if he has not been obligated anything.” The Major gave that last sentence a disdainful edge.

The Lieutenant Colonel ran a hand through his remaining hair, “Ah, yes. Your little game with him. Perhaps you would do well to properly lay down rules, since you played a trick on him by not playing by any. He doesn’t seem the sort to just give up. Best not to misjudge how taut his leash is, as you might say.”

The Major glanced briefly to the window, though it was mostly covered by a curtain. “It isn’t as though I underestimate him. He’s sharp, and able. I just wonder how much of his carefree playfulness is an act and how much of it is just the way he is. If his game is greater than common lechery.”

“Have his Traum checked if you aren’t sure about how forthcoming he is.”

“It was at expected levels. Though…”

“…If his will is strong that means nothing.”

The Major tapped her foot irritably. “Indeed. I won’t waste time putting more observation on him. For now, he’s at least keeping out of my skirts, and trying to get into another’s trousers. I do wonder if tying him down will keep him focused for when I send him west. That he stands out so much will work well for us. Nobody would assume a Caelussian tourist would be a Strossvald spy. A Caelussian spy, yes, but what would they care of such? Hiding in plain sight there will work far better.”

The Lieutenant Colonel searched about for mugs, for tea and coffee, but devoted no more than a few turns of the head. “All work and no play, then,” he eyed the Major, “I presume you see a similar picture as I do in this nation.”

“A picture we’re able to do frustratingly little to change.”

“Directly, yes,” the Lieutenant Colonel admitted without a hint of weakness, “But only a fool fights alone. The wider our own influences, the more we’ll have for the future. Work hard, Major. The Archduchy will have great need of the fruits of our efforts sooner than we might hope.”

The Major saluted again with no hesitation. “Yes, sir. For the good and glory of Strossvald.”

-----
>>
A spring wind through the trees, freshly greening as the snow of winter had given way and the morning frosts became dew once more. Upon this whisper, a fortune teller listened and told of a tale, using the cards of their trade. Each was an aspect of a spirit of humanity, but from a plain wooden card etched with charcoal ink and brushed with bold paints on its raised designs, one could bring forth so much, for anybody who aligned with said spirit’s aspect.

Such was what the Vyemani told, even if those who looked down upon them frowned and shook their heads. Children of all sorts were still fascinated, though, and they took heed as the story on the winds came down to them through this taleteller, though they themselves only heard riddle and metaphor, and themselves made up fiction to fill in where they could not hear…

>A brief aside will be had.

>The Scion, the One Armed Knight
>The Rogue, Made to Wander, yet in birthplace Lingers
>The Vanguard, captured, but yet Uncowed
>The Lord, Newly Named, upon Lonely Land with no mementos but of others

Pastebin for past threads- https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
Twitter for announcements and shitposts is @scheissfunker

On my schedule for drawings is a bunch of girls in swimwear, including remaking two I've done before, and another that'll probably be in-thread but will necessitate a proper color version, probably. Though, as bad as I am about running a quest where you hang out with girls instead of military equipment, I am somewhat curious about how a very short term, perhaps one shot, skirmish would be taken. I shouldn't try and load myself up with more than I already have, but it might be a fun and brief thing to do. There's just the matter of what side or conflict to feature.
>>
>>5285403
>The Lord, Newly Named, upon Lonely Land with no mementos but of others
>>
>>5285403
>The Scion, the One Armed Knight
It's TIME!
>>
>>5285403
>The Scion, the One Armed Knight
I wonder who the Rogue and Vanguard are.

I would be perfectly fine with a short term skirmish.
>>
>>5285403
>The Lord, Newly Named, upon Lonely Land with no mementos but of others

>>5285524
Vanguard is Gerovic, Rogue is Krause I think?
>>
>>5285403
>The Lord, Newly Named, upon Lonely Land with no mementos but of others
>>
>>5285403
>>The Scion, the One Armed Knight

>>5285545
I think the Rogue is Anya.
>>
>>5285597
Ah yeah it's more likely her, wonder how I forgot.
>>
>>5285403
As for skirmish ideas, how about Vynmark versus Twaryi? (either side is fine)
>>
>>5285403
>>The Scion, the One Armed Knight
>>
>>5285408
>>5285545
>>5285566
Owner of a Lonely Land (much better than a)

>>5285427
>>5285524
>>5285597
>>5285847
Owner of a Single Arm

Whose wife is better? Trick question Von Walen is single lmao

Writing.

>>5285708
>how about Vynmark versus Twaryi? (either side is fine)
I've put some thought into how that exact thing would be formatted, actually, so if that's not minded...
Well, you probably won't be on the winning side, but a short skirmish ought to be fought desperately, no?
>>
March 17, 1933- Von Schneeberg Estate

It had been about two and a half weeks since you had gone to Netilland for the Intelligence Office. Gone with Frederick, Von Walen, and others, and according to the IO, accomplished your objectives to a “satisfying” degree. It had been a closer thing than you would have liked. Several times, it felt as though everything could have gone quite wrong…yet most of you had managed to escape. Except for Kelwin. He hadn’t been much an acquaintance of yours, but he was still somebody you had known- and he had perished, in some way, while you were fighting away from where he was.

There wasn’t anything you could have done. It was too bad, still.

The IO had let you go home immediately after the debriefing, which was a blur- aftereffects of the “Glory Draught” that had cleared the fog and shadows from your wits and courage at the end of the battle. You hadn’t gone back to your actual home, but your home away from home. The countryside manor of Von Schneeberg, where your father in law and wife resided. Going back to your blood family after the ordeal…was unthinkable. You still remembered little about them, and rather than rediscover further hatred, you had a future to mind after. Even if it was one you and Klaudia had been forced into.

Klaudia could tell that you were tired. Strained. She did not turn out to be the sort to ignore that, even if you anticipated that she would keep her former distance. Ever since you’d come back, she had let you sleep in the same bed as her, readily. You slept in late beside her, felt inclinations from memories unknown to try and show affection to her. To put your arm around her, to stroke her hair, but your heart was not in the deed. It wasn’t that Klaudia was too homely- you simply…did not love her. She was as uncertain of her closeness to you as you were to her, you could tell.
>>
It wasn’t for lack of trying. You read alongside her, spoke to her, and expected no verbal response- and received none, as usual. You massaged her neck, her shoulders, as she pored over books for potentially the dozenth time. Massaged her feet and ankles- and found that she seemed to like that very much. Kissed her goodnight, but in the light manner that felt like it was to a younger sibling rather than a spouse. She did not resist you- when you did kiss her on the lips, she held herself up and did not pull away. When you embraced, she returned it, and she did approach on her own to sit on your lap or in the crook of an arm- she put her hand on your chest, your arms, disrobed in your sight when she changed clothing, but you could not shake a feeling of pity to it rather than desire.

Trying to brew up some marital lust for her wasn’t something you’d considered yet- because it wasn’t something that occurred naturally. Maybe some stubborn will to defy your family, to spite them for making you their instrument in this.

Yet at what point were you spiting Klaudia by accident, doing this?

For a good two weeks, you had relaxed. Acclimated. Yet you still felt static. There was no progress in anything, especially not towards making your mind feel any more whole. It felt as though you had become more certain, more brave after that mission- but valiance and feelings of it still fled far too readily. Inaudible whispers haunted you when there was quiet, and the darkness held a feeling of being full of monsters.

Something had to change. You had to find yourself going forth, somewhere, once more.

>Maybe you had to bite the bullet on your intimacy with your wife. She was hesitant to move forward- maybe because you were, yourself. You were both in bed- do something when you lingered awake beside one another, late in the morning. (?)
>Staying at this estate was stasis. You had to find some adventure. Some danger. Something to restore yourself- you didn’t have very far to go, you were sure of it…but you could not find what you needed here.
>Find a new mystery. Compel yourself to discover something, to solve it- there was plenty that demanded that you investigate it…and perhaps solve it. (What mystery to look into?)
>Other?
>>
>>5286159
>Maybe you had to bite the bullet on your intimacy with your wife. She was hesitant to move forward- maybe because you were, yourself. You were both in bed- do something when you lingered awake beside one another, late in the morning. (?)
Have an honest talk about it first, try to establish both sides' feelings/position
>>
>>5286159
How much of Rondo's (mis)adventuring with the IO is Klaudia aware of? Has he told her about his myriad encounters with the mythical, since the train hijacking?
>>
>>5286159
>Maybe you had to bite the bullet on your intimacy with your wife. She was hesitant to move forward- maybe because you were, yourself. You were both in bed- do something when you lingered awake beside one another, late in the morning.
Poor Rondo.
He seems affectionate enough and as it was said, it's not like Klaudia is ugly.
Maybe >>5286191 has the right of it, and Rondo just needs to be honest. Not about not loving her, but just talk about the things holding him back and ask if there's anything she'd want from Rondo in particular.
Given the circumstances, she seems ready for duty, but you’d hope something like this would exist outside of simple duty and mild appreciation.
Also, get a nice squeeze of her ass while talking to her. Maybe that'll get both of them in the mood.
Works for Von Tracht anyway.
>>
>>5286159
Side note.
>It wasn’t for lack of trying. You read alongside her, spoke to her, and expected no verbal response- and received none, as usual.
I'd think it's safe to imagine he gets some sorta response though, given how much she's warmed up, at least physically?
I'm thinking head nods and gesturing at the very least as opposed to how things were when he had first got there.
>>
>>5286198
>How much of Rondo's (mis)adventuring with the IO is Klaudia aware of?
Extremely little- practically only this last escapade, and the bare minimum of details on that he was wanted for something. As (nominally) a central interior security organization, many people are a bit skittish of needlessly attracting attention or pointing out their existence, like they're the boogieman. Unless they're conspiracy mongers. Like Von Metzeler is, sort of.
>Has he told her about his myriad encounters with the mythical, since the train hijacking?
He has not.

If you'd like to change this I can put it up for vote sooner or later.
>>
>>5286159
I'll support >>5286191 >>5286232
>>5286443
>If you'd like to change this I can put it up for vote sooner or later.
I would be in favour of letting her in on the encounters with the more benign things (if you can really say witnessing a living stone the size of a barn devour a truck upon a mountain that seemingly defies time or casually watching the flights of gravity defying sky serpents every night "benign"). Since she does have a vested interest in learning about such, bringing up Rondo's experiences seems like a good means to try stimulating her into expressing herself.
Though, definitely, I think we should to leave out any and all details of virgin blood reanimating severed limbs/sensitive intelligence office work, etc. for another time and place that isn't lazy morning bed lounging. Leave that a good while.
>>
>>5286191
>>5286232
>>5286583
You're part of a pair now. Make it real.

Writing.
>>
You lay in bed with Klaudia- both of you in loose pajamas, despite it being late in the morning. Klaudia did not wake up and go to bed at so erratic a time as had once been the normal, now that you were around, but she certainly stayed up late and woke up later. Which meant you’d be waiting, before you…spoke about this.

Not that you minded. Klaudia’s bedroom was a comforting place, even if it wasn’t a place that was as inhabited as her place in the manorial library. Though it shouldn’t have been a comforting place for you, considering that it hadn’t changed much in decades. Vintage stuffed animals were propped on shelves more akin to a museum display than a place a young girl would have them for play. What made it relaxing was that there was not even a hint of a threat here, the whole place had a softness just like the bedsheets, though the bead and button eyes all about made you certain that you’d want the lights off before doing anything intimate. Or perhaps changing venues altogether.

When you turned to look at Klaudia, you were surprised to see her looking back, eyes open- without the sleepiness of a recent awakening.

“Oh. You are awake.” You said, pausing for a response before remembering that there would be none. “Have you been awake long?” Conversing with Klaudia, if it could be called that, practically required questions with yes or no answers. In this case, the answer was a slow turn of the head, no. “Hm.” You turned your own head back to the ceiling, decorated with a painted facsimile of a sky turning from night to day, clouds going from blue to purple to white. “If you do not mind, I would like to remain here for some time longer. There are…things I would like to discuss, and not over a table, or with any audience of servants."

Klaudia stared into your eyes, a small frown on her face.

“I feel as though I am not being a good husband to you,” you laid out bare, “That I am not treating you like my wife. I feel compelled to keep my distance, but I also do not think I should. I am hesitant to…do anything more than we have already. Do you feel the same way? I could not bear to impose upon you.”

To impose was something you did without intending to, with how tall and broad you were, especially compared to Klaudia. The relationship of your families and the circumstances of your marriage only added atop of that. Yet Klaudia’s answer was to reach out to your hand, resting on your chest, and to brush her fingers across the ring upon it.

It was a simple answer. There was no taking anything back at this point.
>>
“More,” you went on, continuing to try and pierce that false sky above you with your eyes, “I am so uncertain about this. In a way that I know I should not be. I feel as if I am half a man. You do not deserve that. It is a matter of my spirit, not that I only have one arm.” After all…you had endured a few battles now, with only one arm. You were weaker, but by no means weak. Save for, seemingly, now, with somebody who needed you to be otherwise. After all…there was more to this than being a guard dog. Part of you knew that, had learned a hard lesson, at some forgotten time.

Klaudia didn’t have anything to say to that. As per usual. Yet you felt her climb on top of you and lay her head against your neck. “…I don’t know you well,” she said in a thin and hesitant voice, like a broken ornament scraped against glass. She said nothing further, but the implication was there nevertheless. As she’d said before- she did have trust and faith in you. She curled an arm around your shortened limb- the young household heir was hardly blind, by choice or not.

Your hand touched her low on the back- then, without you knowing particularly why, it shifted lower, over the substantial rise of her soft bottom. Yet there was nothing telling you to grip it forcefully, or anything of that sort. It just…didn’t work.

Klaudia must have noticed the discontent you felt- she pushed herself up, and pointed a finger to your chest, then swept it down, before getting up from the bed. Stay here-, the implied request, as she left the bedroom…and you alone with the judgmental stares of vintage toys possibly older than either of you.

Some time passed, but Klaudia did return…with company. You weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, no!” the maid, a friend of Klaudia’s called Tina, hid her face in one hand, the other carrying a small box with a ribbon. She wore the dress of her occupation, but her apron was not dirtied by chores yet. “She’s finally succumbed to the wiles of this infamous sex criminal! Lady Klaudia has no hope left!”

…You did not want any sort of counsel on relationship like this. Klaudia herself leaned over and whispered into her blonde maid’s ear, and she was responded to with a seemingly terse and short whisper back- despite the inappropriate tone of the response, Klaudia seemed to accept it.

“Although,” Tina sidled up next to the bed and sat down next to where you were lying, a mischievous look meeting your confusion, “You’re not dressed much like what Strossvald’s most infamous lady killer ought to look like…Maybe you’re hiding a weak point!” She dashed for the buttons of your pajama shirt and unclasped them while you held yourself back from instinctively lashing out to defend yourself. She worked quickly, and spread your shirt out from your torso as you closed your eyes in defiance of what surely must have been some sort of plan.
>>
“Ahhh, hee hee hee!” Tina covered her face again and shook her head, “I can’t even look for a moment, or I’ll be bewitched!” She opened the box she had carried in, “Lady Klaudia, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? I don’t think you should eat these checker-chocolates so early in the morning, but…” She took a square piece of candy out, split into four light and dark pieces, each quadrant dotted with a shirl of some sort of cream…and she set a pair on your chest and abdomen. “I wish I could be so brazen with sweets, Klaudia, but I can’t trust myself around them. The sugar just makes me too energetic, and it all goes right to my stomach.”

Klaudia came up beside, and you noticed her gaze did linger on you…not that you were a vain sort, but you could say that you were well muscled, and only ate as much as you needed to. Admiring yourself in the mirror was beneath you, of course, unless it was to practice your blade.

You couldn’t help but notice that the warmth of your body was melting the chocolate on you, though. Part of you had realized earlier where this was going, but you had played dumb. Partly because you hadn’t been sure of the intent- the other so that another could learn. Yet you hadn’t quite expected what happened next.

Tina looked down at you, then your stomach, then suddenly snapped her head down and ran her tongue over you, licking the half-melted chocolate off of you. Electricity sparked down your back, and you choked in surprise, and Tina was able to steal the candy without interference, before she flailed back and collapsed on her back at the end of the bed.

“Ohh, I’ve been corrupted! Klaudia, your sex criminal husband, I’m helpless before him, he could despoil me as easy as plucking the petals from a lily! I can’t do this alone…”

This was ridiculous.

Klaudia nervously put herself over you next, and did as was demonstrated before- she ran her tongue across your chest, and when she rose with the chocolate taken off of you, her face was as red as a rose.

“Have mercy, my lord,” Tina gasped dramatically, “Perhaps you have not bested my lady yet- won’t you give consideration to the saint of honor, and surrender your advantage? Klaudia is so weak to sweets, surely you have something for Klaudia to level this terribly uneven playing field…the Judge will not look kindly upon dishonorable fighters!”

Klaudia’s face was holding some regret now. Perhaps she hadn’t quite expected this level of…theater.

>…You appreciated the thought, but this really wasn’t going to work now. Excuse yourself before you’re further used as a platter.
>A surrender of advantage? As in, what did you like, that Klaudia could put on, or do? Hmm… (?)
>Other?
>>
>>5287505
>A surrender of advantage? As in, what did you like, that Klaudia could put on, or do? Hmm… (Glasses)
Rondo loves glasses girls, this is a known fact.
Though that aside, before this...lewdness, I feel like Rondo and Klaudia were onto something. About actually getting to know eachother.
Maybe we can flip this on it's head? There's sexy versions of twenty questions right? Rondo can do that. Tina can stay if she wants, but only because she seems to make Klaudia more comfortable and I genuinely want to know what her deal is. Goofy little blonde is mysterious.
>>
>>5287505
I genuinely have no idea what to vote for lmao
>>
>>5287533
Yeah, this is crazy, but look at it like this.
We can't have Rondo walk away from this. Avoidance is stagnation and stagnation is further mental anguish.
At the very least, Rondo needs to make his love for glasses wearing girls clear to "Yes, And" the situation, to play along.
That said, as I've said, beyond the lewdness, this is a great opportunity for everyone involved to learn a lot about each other and maybe even themselves.
Just need to play the cards right.
>>
>>5287522
+1
Obviously walking away should be avoided here, I just don't know what exactly we could do. It got a lot more awkward when Tina came in.

In terms of "evening the playing field", it would probably need to involve something that Rondo likes as well, which I'm drawing a blank on. Maybe tanq can just sub in something Rondo likes here, but in the absence of anything else, "Glasses Girl" is certainly better than nothing.
>>
>>5287505
>Other?
SPREAD YOUR ARMS WIDE AND THROW YOUR HEAD BACK!
ROAR! LIKE A MAJESTIC, MIGHTY LION!

"NO QUARTER SHALL BE GIVEN!"

Throw Klaudia on the bed, jump on her, and start tearing off her clothes.
Then put glasses on her and start going to town.
>>
>>5287541
>>5287577
The 20 Questions thing is another good idea if this one doesn't work out, or perhaps just for another time, but might not be appropriate while we're on the topic of getting each other in the mood with Tina's method.
>>
>>5287505
Tina is an absolute madwoman, but I have faith in her. Playing off the twenty questions idea I think a game of truth or dare would be a good balance. This way Klaudia will have to choose between us getting to know her better or doing naughty things. The idea also sort of plays into von Metzeler's character since he has a dueling background, so maybe he has a passion for high-stakes games in general, including sexy ones? And naturally Tina should be included in the game so she can continue to help to orchestrate things.
>>
>>5287505
>>5287522
>>5287616
Great idea!
Can't remember if Rondo has any love of gambling or high stakes games, but he IS an amateur detective with an inquisitive mind at heart.
Mixing sexy times with glasses wearing girls and a lust for discovery prompted by the game seems like the perfect combo to get him going!
>>
>>5287616
>>5287637
Yes, it's a good idea, but it's not what this prompt is about. We are already in a situation where we were given an "advantage" romantically, and have to think of some way to give it back. Changing the subject entirely and going into some 20 Questions thing would just be cowardly and cheap. Yes, it's a good idea in isolation to do the game, but the context matters here.
>>
>>5287643
>We are already in a situation where we were given an "advantage" romantically and have to think of some way to give it back
I already said to put the girls in glasses.
You seem to underestimate how much Rondo likes them, it's mentioned constantly.

Besides, I'm just making suggestions for next steps, not saying to stop everything and do something else. Surely if this whole thing is about getting Rondo going, they will both be happy with him taking the lead once he's begun playing along.
>>
>>5287652
I'm fine with the glasses idea, it's just that the recent discussion looks like people *just* want to do the 20 Questions thing without giving a chance to "give the advantage back", which is a bad move.
>>
>>5287668
I'm sure Tanq understands what we're getting at, but you're right.
One thing at a time.
>>
>>5287668
Yeah I'm fine with doing the glasses thing first, I was sort of assuming it wouldn't be enough on its own since it doesn't sound like much by itself but if it really does it for von Metzeler then all the better.
>>
Not calling yet because I have once again misallocated my time in actually writing. Though I suppose in the meantime til I come back and hopefully get something done before I fall asleep tonight-

>>5287577
>it would probably need to involve something that Rondo likes as well, which I'm drawing a blank on. Maybe tanq can just sub in something Rondo likes here, but in the absence of anything else, "Glasses Girl" is certainly better than nothing.
Glasses are certainly one thing.
Other things can be written in. Dealer's choice and all that. So long as it's justifiable, of course...

As for high-stakes truth or dare, while yes, it won't be the only thing, I'd appreciate a few ahead of time sample questions, if you'd like to give them. Makes things easier to write down the line and all that, especially with my present pace.
>>
>>5287967
>As for high-stakes truth or dare, while yes, it won't be the only thing, I'd appreciate a few ahead of time sample questions, if you'd like to give them
Good idea.

Let's see....
For Klaudia
>What is your favorite story?
>How did you get so good at typing?
>Ever write any story for yourself? (basically, ask if she's a writer if that question hasn't been answered)
>Do you have any interest in music? What type?
>We know she likes deserts, but what is her favorite type of sweet?

For Tina
>How did she and Klaudia become so close?
>Is she actually of noble birth?
>Has she done lewd things like this before?
>Why did she become a servant instead of anything else?
>Ever think about getting married?

For both
>What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?
>Who is someone you hate, and why?
>What do you think is your own most attractive feature?
>What's something you're glad your father doesn't know about you?
>Have you ever seen a ghost or spirit?
>What's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?
>What's the naughtiest thing you've ever heard about?
>What's your biggest turn-on?
and most importantly
>Tea or Coffee?
>>
>>5288058
More questions because I'm bored.
Though I must say, now that I'm thinking about these questions more, I'm realizing that between Klaudia's seeming lack of experiences with...anything and Rondo forgetting most of his life, we'll probably get a few duds before anything fun or useful is shared.
Still think this'll be a good time though, and who knows, we'll still probably learn a ton.
Anyway.

For either
>What is your dream romantic getaway?
>Ever been drunk before?
>Tell me about your most memorable crush.
>Give one of your embarrassing habits.
>What's your childhood dream?
>Ever read any erotic fiction?
>Ever write any erotic fiction? Assuming Klaudia didn't already say she didn't do any writing in her spare time. Could always just ask Tina if that's the case.
>What is your most memorable experience outside the house?
>How many kids do you want?
>Where is somewhere on your body you've never been kissed? Proceed to kiss that spot if Rondo is up for it
>If you had to pick a place outside to have sex, where and why?
>If there was one thing you could change about yourself, what would it be?
>Spill a secret. Doesn't have to be your own secret or anyone's in the room. No context is needed. Just tell a secret you were not to tell anyone.
>What would you do if I gave your bum a squeeze in public? The ghost of ButtGrabber still haunts this place

Man, it'll be nice to see Rondo work up the nerve to actually ask some of these. We know secondhand that he isn't always brooding and serious, and can even be quite the trouble maker, but I don't think we've ever really seen it yet.
I'm excited to see if today is the day we finally see our boy cut loose!

>>5287967
Btw, should we be thinking of potential dares too? Or do you have that covered?
>>
Last night was tiring enough to put me to sleep right after. Let's get back on this now.

>>5287522
>>5287577
>>5287616
Get the glasses on. Get a game going.

>>5287581
I AM THE LION

Writing.

>>5288058
>>5288088
I'll definitely have to put a bit of restraint on some of these, of course. Von Metzeler does have a sense of decorum about him, after all.
>Btw, should we be thinking of potential dares too? Or do you have that covered?
If you like, certainly. As before though, there are...lines.
>>
>>5288493
>If you like, certainly. As before though, there are...lines.
Hmmm, in that case, I'll let you figure out what type of dares our boy would come up with.
>>
A surrender of advantage, she said..? There was a message hidden in the childish role-play. Klaudia didn’t know you well, by her admission- and she struggled to think of ways to entice you. So speak up, the room pleaded.

Well. You were more fond of women’s character than their appearance, but there was one thing you certainly liked. Glasses. Spectacles. They framed the eyes so nicely, gave a scholarly appearance. If there was any sort of lady you preferred, it was most certainly not a brainless one. Grace, intelligence, but with the gentleness of a proper girl. Somebody like __________.

Who?

“Glasses,” you said slowly, looking at Klaudia’s uncertain face and trying to imagine it, “Klaudia, you do not wear reading glasses, do you?”

Klaudia frowned, and looked over to Tina for help.

“Huh? Glasses? Tina sat up and squinted at you…and you noticed something. A telltale mark on the bridge of the maid’s nose. “…Hey, Klaudia, come over here a second.” She switched readily from referring to her superior with proper manner, and casually. After she got up, both women turned their backs to you and left the room, for a few minutes. It wasn’t long before they had returned- and Klaudia had been newly gifted with a set of spectacles…and a slip that bared the shoulders rather than the other pajamas. It was also a color that would…need to be removed, you noted, from somewhere. Tina thrust her arms out like a stage master, “She does now!”
>>
File: tcqscene202.png (1.99 MB, 862x1400)
1.99 MB
1.99 MB PNG
Your wife had nothing wrong with her vision, you already knew, but it was a definite improvement in her appearance. Though the lenses had also been taken out, that was an acceptable compromise. Not enough for you to jump on her and abduct her like some barbarian of eld, but then, you couldn’t think of anybody that might make you act like that. This was good enough. Though the mood was off. Especially with the maid still in the room. Klaudia was as uncomfortable as before, and the whole point of any of this was to avoid that.
The glasses were recognized with a beckoning to Klaudia- when she came closer, you wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto your lap.

“You are now my prisoner,” you declared to her as you squeezed her around the middle, “And you will answer my questions, or suffer the consequences.”

“Oh, no!” Tina cried, “What are you going to do to her, you villain?”

You actually didn’t know yet. Perhaps rather hoping you wouldn’t be doing anything. “That is a secret. Just know that silence will avail you naught.” You gave Klaudia a look- thankfully there was no panic, or discomfort, only curiosity. A small blush around the cheeks- those glasses really did complete her.

A sudden realization- Klaudia did not speak readily. Had you made a mistake?...No, Tina was still here. You’d permit her to stay, while this was still horseplay. She at least made Klaudia more comfortable, but the same couldn’t be said for her effect on you.

“Ohh, do your worst, then, my lady is strong..!” Tina fell on the bed and wriggled.

“But are you?” You challenged, rather wishing for another hand to point a finger with. “Because you are a hostage yourself, now. Your interrogation begins now, too. Firstly,” you pondered a question, and wondered how best to balance what was casual and what was saucy. Klaudia’s weight on your lap would eventually do something. “How did the two of you find one another? A servant and a noble, friends? You are a suspicious maid. Are you truly a servant after all?” Partly role play. Partly inquisitiveness.

“We’ve known each other for years,” Tina said, “We-“

“Hold,” you declared, “Deception. You said you haven’t been here very long.”

“That was,” Tina’s eyes flashed and she smirked, “A lie!” So it was..? “I’m not nobility. I’m a servant because Klaudia needs somebody around her age to help her out! Though I’m not much into reading.”

Was that another lie, though? “Fine. Do you make a habit of attacking unsuspecting men with your mouth?”

“Only ones that threaten lady Klaudia,” Tina gave a toothy smile, the sort that Von Tracht’s irritating retinue also liked to give when trying her best to be a pest.
>>
You wouldn’t ask how many times that might have been. It seemed half a joke anyways. “Klaudia,” you addressed your wife, “I know you read, but do you write? Not research, but stories.” Klaudia was a prolific student of Vinstragan Folklore, you knew- but you only had heard of such, she hadn’t properly told. Especially since you were lucky to get enough words out of her in a day to not count on one hand.

Klaudia shook her head slowly in response. It didn’t tell you much.

“Alright then. Tea, or coffee?” A banal question, but you needed to buy time.

“Hold on, you can’t ask all the questions, that’s not fair,” Tina whined, “But, coffee. Klaudia likes coffee better, too.”

“As do I.” Coffee was a controversial subject in these lands. However, you were of common blood and were never allowed to forget it. Why be ashamed of what you liked if people would assume you drank it anyways? “Klaudia. What is your favorite story? You’ve read plenty, after all.”

“…The Witch of Winter,” Klaudia said in a thin voice. That wasn’t one you were familiar with. Klaudia didn’t explain further, though.

“Does that have a lewd ending?” Steering things back on course. You hardly wanted to be boring.

“…It could…”

“Then,” you went on, “What is…” you held dramatically, “Your biggest turn-on?”

Klaudia said nothing, her head didn’t move, she only stared sideways.

“Oh, no, lady Klaudia, you must answer!” Tina protested, “Or else you’ll be punished!

Yet Klaudia still looked, tilting her chin down. Not so subtly daring. Do something, she seemed to be saying with that look- she wanted to know what you would do…

>?
>>
>>5288992
Oh, this is really fucking cute. A slight hint of what's underneath is a great touch.

>>5288993
Slip a hand under her gown to tug on a nipple and give her neck some rough little nibbles.
Don't worry Rondo, our collective autism will get you through this!
>>
>>5289007
This is becoming uncomfortable while Tina is still here. At what point do we ask her to leave?
>>
>>5288993
Nibble her on ear and say you'll work your way down the more she resists.

>>5288992
tanq, I noticed you tend to round out the faces of the female characters. Would you mind framing and squaring them out every once in a while? Thanks again for the effort you put in.
>>
>>5289010
Any point you'd want I'd assume.
I'm letting her stick around because I assume she's up to something and will leave on her own when things get more exciting.
>>
>>5289023
+1, I like this idea

>>5289031
I mean, she's been present for some pretty "exciting" things already, I'm not entirely sure she would even leave for the main act.
>>
>>5289010
I don't know, it sounds pretty rude to ask her to leave after all the help she's given us. Maybe we should ask her to join in instead.
>>
>>5288993
Ear nibble then gentle grope if the nibble doesn't surprise her.

Do you think she's magically communicating with Tina? Goddamn wizards.
>>
>>5289007
>>5289023
>>5289057
>>5289295
Bite her. Don't let having only one hand hold you back.
These aren't all the same but they do have a sense of progression, so I'll work around that.

Writing.

>>5289023
I appreciate the feedback- I'll try and notice that more and adjust. There's certain characters that are meant to have round faces, but it's probably not good to be doing that as a default.
>>
Punishment it was, then- though Klaudia was clearly asking for it. Daring of her, you thought, when she couldn’t have known what you were planning.

Though she could have been counting on you starting gently, which, you were. You took your arm from around her waist and pulled back her messy hair with it, and bit on the lobe of her ear. Klaudia’s back stiffened against you, then she relaxed.

“The more you resist,” you whispered as you blew in her ear, “The further I will go down your body.”

A pause. “Ah…I…” Klaudia spoke again, “When you were fighting your brother…” That made you pause yourself, and she added, “O-or, when you rub my neck…”

The former couldn’t be arranged right here, but the latter could. “For changing your answer,” you moved down and closed your mouth around her neck, between her throat and collarbone. A glance back up at Tina- you were hoping she intended to leave on her own, not having the heart to demand it. Though you’d rather not have an audience in this…or to risk another unpredictably brazen act, such as perhaps joining in. Your father might have shamelessly kept a mistress, but you had hardly even been married now.

“Klaudia,” you said next, “Do you ever read anything that is dirty in nature?” You allowed her little time to be silent- you were on a roll, here. You slipped your hand into her shift, and moved it over her breast. No underwear…whose idea was that? No matter. You cupped her breast in a hand and squeezed softly. A small gasp from Klaudia, and her shoulders tensed again.

“…Do your worst…” she said, and you saw her wave a finger at Tina. The maid, to your relief, got up, bowed, and left. The door clicked behind her.

So that was the way it was. You turned Klaudia around and pushed her down to the bed, and undid the strings of her slip from around her neck with a deft pull, before tugging it down further. Your kisses went to her breasts, and you felt her struggling not to cry out as your hand went around her again. No further confessions were forthcoming- and you did not stop, as her sole clothing was shifted further and further down, until you pulled it away from her entirely, and all Klaudia had upon her were those glasses.

Your hand went to the dark brambles between her legs, and though you had no memory of doing this before, something else did, and that lost memory knew what to do, until the time was right, and you gave Klaudia’s bespectacled face another look, saw the blush in her cheeks- one arm across her breasts, but the other touching your arm, then your shoulder, then your back. She was clammy and pale with sweat- but you were only getting started.

You did your best to be as gentle as possible.

-----
>>
Klaudia lay in your loose grasp, her heart slowly calming and her breaths deepening, as she held herself against you. It had been difficult- but the motions were natural, learned, even if Klaudia had been a maiden, you clearly had not been yourself. The final moments, you had laid atop of her as she laid on her front, curling an arm around her head and kissing her, feeling her give in, doing your best to try and surrender as well, even if it was a struggle to hurry such a thing.

So it was done. Your seed was spilled in Klaudia, and come what may, none could say that you were not husband and wife.

Yet you felt melancholic. How long before Klaudia conceived? How long until some sort of duty called you again? You’d asked the IO to leave you be, but you still felt the pull, the call back to the battles, to the comrades. When your children came, would that change? You sat up, and Klaudia stirred as well- a hand touched your back.

“I am alright,” you told Klaudia, “I am merely…thinking.”

“On your back…” Klaudia said, “I’ve only seen you from the front…this is a tattoo..?”

A tattoo? You didn’t recall having one, but then…you didn’t remember anything. “What is it a tattoo of?”

“It’s all over your back…” Klaudia sat up and traced her fingers over the cords of your shoulders, your spine, “It’s…a demon. A masked devil of judgment. Miters of punishment to the sinful banished to hell…and in some stories, outside of it…”

“I don’t remember getting it.”

“…You don’t…” Klaudia repeated, “This would take some time to be painted upon you…” She put her hand under your arm and gently pulled you back. In one motion, you wrapped an arm around her and laid back, with her in the crook of your arm, nestled against your chest. Her nakedness pushed against you, her breath cooling your sweat. “Why do you think you got it..? I…love it…”

You couldn’t be sure, but you could guess. Frederick had told you that you’d been a star in underground saber dueling. That your pride there was never having sustained a saber cut, lacking any scars. Baring yourself might have been a natural way to display such a boast. Tattoos were unusual in Strossvald, as far as you knew, but some saber duelists took inspiration from foreign practices. That, and there was plenty of time of you being more young and foolish in general to get one…

>?
>>
>>5289807
Well, if we don't know, we don't know. Might as well share our thoughts. Just tell her we think it has something to do with when we were dueling. No need to hide anything from her. She seems to be a fan anyways.
>>
>>5289807
>?
It's not the dueling but for pursuit of justice. Tell her about the detective work in the UGZs Do NOT mention the Soulbinder. Although knowing her mind powers we may inevitably give it up anyway. and the constant quest to act chivalrously as opposed to the dubious Von Metzeler family history he is trying to escape.
>>
>>5289807
Seconding this one >>5289972
Though it probably was because of the dueling.
>>
>>5289972
+1
Make a note to ask Frederick afterwards when we see him again
>>
>>5289872
It was some sort of duelist showmanship. Though you're not that sure.

>>5289972
>>5290102
>>5290153
A symbol for the pursuit of Justice. A constant quest to defy your origins, and prove yourself worthy of your nobility. Speak of what pursuits you can remember.

Even if it's probably dueling.

Writing.
>>
The truth of it very well could have been mundane. A young and brash man seeking to prove himself in the field of illegal battles, to win glory he couldn’t quite reach otherwise, made a loud statement in body art to help gain fame, and paint an image. Where was the romance in that alone, though? Your wife was somebody who admired the grander stories underneath the normalcy. You could come up with a better deduction than the plain one.

She practically demanded it.

“Once, I fought in underground saber dueling rings. Contests of blood. Not of death, but of brutality nevertheless. I would have gotten this during those days, but I cannot remember exactly when. As for why. My family is a band of criminals, of liars and thieves. Even if my memory of those days is poor, I do know that, as far back as I can remember, I have wanted to defy them. To be chivalrous, as a knight, a warrior of justice. Perhaps holy justice. So, a Judgment Devil. I descend into hell to punish the wicked.”

“…You have gone there before?”

“In a way,” you said, recounting your past, “Where I was last, there were wretched places called Ubergangszentrum. Places where the conquered Ellowians were moved from particular lands, to be transferred elsewhere, in time. In the meanwhile, they suffered in destitution. Such places sprouted with crime. I ventured into these places under darkness still, to keep them from eating one another alive in their desperation. It was all I could do for them, then. The political reality then was that I was meant to cooperate with the conquerors, not the unjustly displaced. Even then…a graceless victor is no champion at all. Wherever I am, I feel I have to continue to defy my bloodline.”

Klaudia touched your back again, ran her hands over it, then pressed herself into you. “…You will be going back to hell, then…”

You didn’t answer that right away. Even though you knew the answer, had considered it. Couldn’t stop thinking of it.

-----

You are Richter Von Tracht- and you had a meeting to attend to, if there was to be any hope of you finding your family blade within so little a timeframe as within the week.
The rest of the time with your family that morning after your meeting with the Major (if Hilda could be considered extended family, for how readily your mother took to her) had been pleasant and peaceful, and though you were satisfied when you left, you still awaited your next visit as you stepped onto a Capital Omnibus-for transit from one part of the sprawling capital region to the other.
>>
Von Walen’s new household was within the Capital territory, though in an underdeveloped portion of it. Underdeveloped for the Capital, rather- there was at least a paved road, though the settlements were more and more sparse. There would still be more traveling to do even after the last stop at a town described by the driver as “sleepy” but when you left, it was still a large enough that the tallest buildings were four stories tall, and there were quite a few of those. Apparently because this was the hub for a relatively rural area.

Asking after a “Von Walen” got you few answers at the city hall, but you were informed that the address you had was for the newly dubbed “Von Graumorgen,” who had been bestowed the title, as the former owners of the land had been made to sell it to the Archducal State a generation past, whereupon it had fallen into neglect, the few little villages on the adjacent plots paying their tax to the state rather than any lord. Not an ideal situation- most lords, to gain favor with their subjects, often took some of the individual burden of taxation off of the commoners from their own coffers. Either that or territorial law slashed taxes on citizens who could claim they paid to their local liege. The exact details were foggy and never of great importance to you.
Well, you’d still be calling him Von Walen. Or Teobaldt. The new name sounded rather too pretentious to be appropriate for the man you were familiar with.

The Von Graumorgen estate, when you reached it in the late afternoon, was a dreary looking place surrounding a small three story mansion, though the home itself had evidently had some quick work done to it so that it wasn’t as unkempt as the brush around it, the knotted forest growth and thorns creeping in and over abandoned sheds and stone fences, as the forest moved rapidly to reclaim what had been cleared out once. The mansion was of an older style, with sturdy brick and stonework at its bottom- a fortified house, though clearly not a castle from its upper portion’s finishings. Pre-Imperial, perhaps?

There was a trio of cars parked in a cleared out space in front of the mansion- one of them a heavier sort of van, which must have been the car of workers set to clear away the foliage further, and another that perhaps was serving staff to clean the interior. Who could have said what state this place might have been in when it was initially given over, after all.

Yet when you knocked on the door, it was no servant who answered, but Von Walen himself, looking weary and disheveled.

“…Oh. Von Tracht,” he said, brushing himself off. “Ah. Hey.”

“Hello Von Walen,” you said, “So this is your new holding?”

“Von Graumorgen,” Von Walen corrected with a strained choke, “Er, yes, it’s not much, but-“

“I don’t see anything wrong with it. Plenty of forest.”
>>
“Oh, then,” Von Walen changed his tack as he straightened his shoulders with some small pride, “Yes, it’s got that country appeal to it, doesn’t it? Five hundred and fifty acres of woodland, not counting the three villages in the fief, one hundred and ten peasants between them. There’s a shit ton of work to be done, but it’s officially mine, and I don’t even have to pay anything for it until I have defined gains. Honestly, it’s the least I deserve.” He ran a hand over his hair to straighten it back again, “Guess you didn’t come here to see the sight, though.” A new wariness in his voice. What did he suspect? Was he thinking you’d drag him back along on another adventure? Eventually, yes, but for now…

“I actually need your help,” you said, “And I believe you owe me a favor. You see, I’m looking for something. A historically important artifact.”

“…Go on..?” Von Walen’s face was growing paler.

“My family sword. It was sold by my grandfather a long time ago, to people who wouldn’t have known its worth, what with it being rather plain in appearance. I’d very much like to get it back, and I know of nobody else besides you that could help me with finding this antique.” You tried to be earnest with your next appeal, “I would truly appreciate any assistance you could give me. My father has searched himself, on and off, for years, but with little avail.”

“Your sword, your sword…” Von Walen repeated, “You said it looked plain? Like…a Netillian Light Cavalry saber? Curved?”

“That’s it,” you nodded. There was no way it’d be this easy. “How did you know? Have you heard of it?”

Von Walen squinted and frowned. “I know something of history. Your family was a mercenary band from Netilland, under formerly Imperial service. Of course they’d use that governate’s model of cavalry saber. As for hearing of it…I’ve seen it.”

…All too fortunate. What would you have to pay in the future for this? “Where is it?” you demanded.

“My brother’s collection of curiosities,” Von Walen said, “My eldest’s, and there’s no chance he’ll give it up. I could, maybe, convince him to trade something for it from my own collection, though…Hey, hold on, hold it,” Von Walen cut you off before you could interject, “You’re asking me to give up something here, you see? Then giving up a historically significant artifact, a piece of the Archduchy’s history, Helman the Silver Lance’s sword with all the dings in it from the Battle of Messingplatz? I think I need a little more for my plate, Von Tracht.”

“Name it,” you said immediately. This sort of opportunity would be worth the cost. What could he even ask for that he expected you to give?
>>
“I’ve got the home, you see,” Von Walen said, “But look at how big it is, then look at what lives in it. Just me. Once these work crews are done, it’ll just be whatever servants are up for grabs nearby. I want to share this, you know? You’re good with women-“

“Uh,” you interjected, “I don’t think-“

“-Better than I am,” Von Walen finished for you irritably, “Look, I don’t care how you do it, they flock to you, and not to me. Hook me up. Set me up. Do that and I’ll see about getting you your sword back, yeah? I’m not an endless fountain of generosity. It’s not much to ask for, is it? Come on. I’m not picky at this point.”

…Not what you expected to be asked for. Not something you were sure you could grant either, confident as he seemed to be that you could…

Also, didn’t the Major say that he had been visiting a “foreigner?” Were they incompatible? Or perhaps he wasn’t confident? Strange.

>You could set him up on a date with your retinue. That was all, no guarantees. And if he abused her, you’d kill him where he stood.
>Did he remember Hilda? She also wasn’t picky. Maybe the two of them could help each other out equally.
>Kindly inform Von Walen that you couldn’t help him with that, and he’d have to figure out that problem on his own. You’d go see his brother yourself if you had to.
>Other?
>>
>>5291122
>Other?
Ask about taste in women.
Talk about the party where you will attend and that you will drag him along and try to help him stand a chance.
>>
>>5291122
>>5291135
Support. I suspect Hilda and Anna won't do...
>>
>>5291141
>Anya
Fugg
>>
>>5291122
>Did he remember Hilda? She also wasn’t picky. Maybe the two of them could help each other out equally.
Now that I think about it, this could work out with Hilda. We know Von Walen is an appreciator of large breasts, so he should at they very least have some attraction, and I very much doubt Hilda would be down about being set up in a mansion.

I don't see Anya working out for him, though that's mainly because I don't see Anya working out for most people. I guess it wouldn't hurt as a backup option.

>>5291135
I don't mind dragging him to the party to help introduce him to people, but I think we should try out Hilda first.
>>
>>5291122
>Did he remember Hilda? She also wasn’t picky. Maybe the two of them could help each other out equally.
>>
>>5291122
>Other?
Implore on the state of his relationship with this foreign woman the Major mentioned.
While I'm sure Richter would sooner try and foist her off to dear rat boy than leave her to the mercies of the louse, Teo has shown a bit of a complex when it comes to interacting with the peasantry and you don't get more of a peasant than Hilda. I don't think there's the right set up there to produce be a particularly healthy relationship.
>>
>>5291122
>Other?
Hilda and Anya are some of the worst choices for Teo. Hilda isn't nobility, and is into masculinity: hunting, fighting rather than collecting. Now she might love Von Walen's land...

For someone who wants to be a Lord with a capital L like Von Walen, he will need a noble wife. Meaning Fram might just be his ticket so ask about her.
Anya if prompted would just laugh, and laugh and laugh...

Bringing him to the party is a good idea, at the very least it's an opening. No one vaguely important is going to go to his estate so he needs to go out and search for her.
Even if we get him shacked up, interrogate him on how he plans to get the sword back.
>>
>>5291135
>>5291170
Supporting.
>>
>>5291313
Also if the invitation hasn't reached him yet inform him he's getting invited to the wedding so that's another opportunity to mix around.

Though really I'd say the ideal match for Teo if he can't woo Fram is probably some daughter of a house in decline in which being married off to him isn't seen as a downgrade(like Richter's or Klaudia's to an extent, though the Schneebergs have better land imo).
>>
>>5291135
>>5291313
>>5291141
Let me hear about your tastes first.

>>5291149
>>5291162
Let me tell you about this crispy hamburger I have.

>>5291170
>>5291202
>>5291313
So how about that foreigner?

Also come with me to this party coming up, not like you're doing anything better, right?

>>5291353
Hey nerd come to my wedding so as many people as possible can watch me molest my fiancee.

Writing.
>>
“I might be able to do something,” you said, “But first, what sort of women do you like? Even if you’re aren’t picky, you do have a preference, don’t you?”
“Not taller than me, and has a decent chest. Your Von Blum is unacceptable. No offense.”

…Von Walen was a rather short man. You’d have considered Anya for but a moment, but that was shut down in your imagination immediately. She would never respect a man like Von Walen, and would probably mock you for suggesting otherwise. Or worse, with her history as “One Day,” she might even take offense…no. Hilda was taller than him, but she was a degree of lowborn that lacked even basic proper education. Von Walen, in your experience, didn’t think much of lower class peoples. Would he accept that part of Hilda, on top of the other things? Such as having to rear the twins of a dead man…as well as the two not having much in common as far as interests went.

It was worth consideration still, but not quite yet. Hilda’s heavy chest would have to do a lot of work for her.

“I heard from the Major that you were visiting a foreign visitor,” you said, “Whose life you saved. Who would that be?”

“Oh,” Von Walen grimaced and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Yeah, her. Framboise.”

“The Emrean Woman who you described as having the biggest rack you’d ever seen?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Von Walen sighed and paced in a tight circle, “That won’t work out.”

“She’s not that much taller than you,” you said, remembering who he was talking about, “Wouldn’t she be appreciative of what you’ve done?”

“Sure, but not in that way. The way I’d like. See, she’s…well, do you know her? Her family name or anything?”

You shook your head at Von Walen. “I remember her men called her the lady de L’Ensoleillée. That doesn’t mean anything to me, though. Is there a problem with that? A nobleman would be fine with a noble lady wife, no?”

“That’s not the point.” Von Walen said with irritation, “L’Ensoleillée are a high house in old-blood Emrean politics. She’s Jean-Phillipe Debon’s niece. She’s both over my head, way wealthier, not that interested, and controversial as all hell. Debon is a revolutionary, Von Tracht.”

…Debon’s niece? Remarkable. Yet he said that as if it wasn’t a big plus. Maybe it was because you’d forgotten so much, but you still didn’t see the big problem. With a shrug, you said, “I am to marry a Von Blum.”

“I don’t have the advantage,” Von Walen insisted with a grumpy growl of defeat, “Being taller, having a small chest, that’s tolerable compared to being somebody who’s…settling for less.”

…The problem was still utterly imperceptible. “Do you want help?”

“No shit.”
>>
“If you’re so sure that won’t work,” you said, “The court social I’m going to in about a week is something you can attend. There ought to be young eligible women of noble birth there, looking for the best they can grab. It’s what I need my sword for. I’ll need to appear with it.”

“Well, I’m not going to give up my stuff for that sword to give over for a maybe somebody will notice, Von Tracht. Give me a bit of a break, Judge Above.” He straightened his back to rear up, “If you don’t think I’ve got a chance just tell me, yeah?”

If you did that, he wouldn’t get you Helman’s Blade, though. “How exactly are you going to get that sword once I help you, anyways? Are you sure your brother will give it up?”

“Oh, of course,” Von Walen said with new self-assurance, “I’ve got something he really wants from me. It’ll be a fair trade.”

“And that thing is?”

“A set of carved nacre and coral jewelry, from the hoard of the Peninsula Queen,” Von Walen said, “If you know who that is. You probably don’t, but my eldest brother’s wife has been hungering after those. He’ll trade whatever I ask, I’m sure.”

You didn’t. “As long as you’re certain.”

“Absolutely certain.”

So long as you fulfilled your end of the bargain.

>Hilda it was. Even if she didn’t seem that compatible, she’d at least be easy to convince.
>This hesitancy was silly. See if you could play a proper matchmaker for once and coax Von Walen and the Emrean together. In one visit, ideally, there was plenty more you had to do.
>Try to negotiate for that sword some other way. This didn’t seem like it’d work out no matter what you tried.
>Other?
>>
>>5291480
>Hilda it was. Even if she didn’t seem that compatible, she’d at least be easy to convince.
I know Hilda and him are far from a perfect match, but both of them *are* rather desperate for someone who will actually settle down with each other, and otherwise have decent reasons to accept. Who knows, they might even grow to appreciate each other.

If he still throws a fit after Hilda, we can go with:
>Try to negotiate for that sword some other way. This didn’t seem like it’d work out no matter what you tried.

Despite how it looks, we aren't a woman tree. We don't really know all that many, especially who might be compatible with him. At some point he's going to have to accept the good connection that Von Tracht is and use that if he's not satisfied with the options he has.
>>
>>5291480
>Other?
Ask Anya if Alina is available.
>>
>>5291480
>This hesitancy was silly. See if you could play a proper matchmaker for once and coax Von Walen and the Emrean together. In one visit, ideally, there was plenty more you had to do.

This will be rich coming from our MC but tell him he needs to have confidence in himself (or at least be good enough to fake it). He'd be a much more pleasant person in general if he got over his insecurities and inferiority complex.

Also maybe find some other person to get advice on how to treat the fairer sex properly. Any female relatives he's close with? Otherwise as far as acquaintances go Von Igel is happily married, or in the worst case there's always Gerovic lurking around.
>>
>>5291480
>This hesitancy was silly. See if you could play a proper matchmaker for once and coax Von Walen and the Emrean together. In one visit, ideally, there was plenty more you had to do.

You miss all the shots you don't take.
>>
>>5291480
Both
>This hesitancy was silly. See if you could play a proper matchmaker for once and coax Von Walen and the Emrean together. In one visit, ideally, there was plenty more you had to do.
>Try to negotiate for that sword some other way.

Hilda might agree to it (even if I don't think Von Walen will) but they'd both be miserable. I don't want either of them to be miserable.
We have an in with Fram, and as much as her being related to Debon is a minus, Teo literally saved her life. His reservations about her will evaporate once he's resting his head on her huge....tracts of revolutionary tank tactics.

The trick is he needs to stop seeing himself as such a minus. Von Walen is the one with the advantage here. He lead the operation that saved potentially millions of lives. He risked his life to save her from the predations of the Netillians.

Von Walen, you could be her hero, all you have to do is step into the role. You both share a history, at the very least try. Would Helman the Mercenary ever become a Von Tracht if he hadn't left Netilland?

But while we are doing this, start taking stock of treasures and historical values within our reach. We do have unique contacts to approach that might have something.
>>
>>5291480
Supporting >>5291512
>>
>>5291480
>>This hesitancy was silly. See if you could play a proper matchmaker for once and coax Von Walen and the Emrean together. In one visit, ideally, there was plenty more you had to do.
Von Walen I will strangle you if you are this close to getting your future wife and getting me that fucking sword and you get cold feet now. Does he not realize he saved her life? At this point she is his to lose, Fram has been through a lot, and whoever she is now probably isn't the same rich niece of Debon that set out as. There won't be anyone back home for her that understands what she went through more than Von Walen.
>>
>>5291480
>>This hesitancy was silly. See if you could play a proper matchmaker for once and coax Von Walen and the Emrean together. In one visit, ideally, there was plenty more you had to do.
>>
>>5291479
Is Debon still alive?
>>
>>5291489
Throw Hilda a bone.

>>5291499
Hey fluffy I need your sister that's got your runty height but a rack that isn't in my strike range.

>>5291501
>>5291511
>>5291512
>>5291537
>>5291692
>>5291728
The badger man will be dragged before the cow from the north, despite any kicking and screaming.

Writing.

>>5291815
>Is Debon still alive?
He is. It's been 22 going on 23 years since the end of the Emrean War, and Debon was in his 30s when that ended. Many an Emrean higher officer has had experience in the Liberation, but Utopian Revolutionaries are less common, unless they at least claim to have recanted, due to the shift in national attitude towards them at the tail end of the war.
Debon is not an expatrié, though there's plenty who would like him to be.
>>
This hesitancy was silly. As bad as you’d been in the past at trying to play matchmaker, even a blind person could see that Von Walen would have no better chance than this. His sense of inferiority was inflicting him with a disease of stupidity- and he could lose his best chance at happiness for it, as well as your best chance at getting the Von Tracht Sword back in time for your court debut.

If you lost that because of this, you just might have to cut off the rest of your fingers to replace with mechanical substitutes, solely for the purpose of properly strangling Von Walen.
“I know her, you know her,” you started off, “You’ve saved her life. You were in charge of Operation…whatever it was called, that might have saved who knows how many people, why must you see yourself as somebody less than that?”

“That’s not,” Von Walen paused, “Not wrong, but-“

“Stop this doubt in yourself and go for it. The only person who I can see not wanting you to at least try is yourself,” you dug into your family legacy for an example, “Would I be here if Helman the Silver Lance decided to stay in Netilland doing odd jobs like a city daytaler instead of throwing his lot in with Roland the Second? Have some ambition, after what that woman has been through, she’s staying here, isn’t she? You share something. Let’s just go for it.”

Von Walen thought, mumbled some vague objection, but relented. “Fine, fine, but don’t talk so loudly about that secret shit, will you? And, uh,” he closed the door behind him, “Help me out with talking, I don’t spoil any chance by looking like a fool.”

“…You’ll need to find somebody else to help with that,” you said through a grimace.

-----
>>
The Strosstadt 3rd Military Hospital was somewhat of a drive away- not a short journey for Von Walen, even with an automobile. It gave you some time to chat.

“You’re invited to my wedding, you should know,” you said, “It’ll be coming up around the end of the month. I’ll have an official letter sent when they’re ready, we’ve had to make many last minute changes, you know…”

“All of the other guys’ll be there, I take it,” Von Walen said, one hand lazily tipping the wheel of the car.

“I’ve not been shy on invitations. The Von Blums are rich and powerful enough to accommodate my unreasonable guest list.”

“The entirety of the Silver Lances will be there, I take it?”

“No. A few, though. My substitute gunner and radio operator. My platoon officers, their men too, if they want.”

“Huh,” Von Walen leaned the wheel into a turn, “Figured you’d take along your old guys, or none of them, not half and half. You were pretty close to those commoners.”

“They’ve suffered alongside me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for all of them. Don’t you feel the same way for your own crew?”

“They’re all dead now,” Von Walen said flatly, “Got blown up when my tank went up, I only barely got away.”

“…I’m sorry to hear that.” A moment of silence. “They were with us in Sosaldt, back then.”

“Yeah.” Von Walen said in a clipped dismissal, “Yeah, they were.” Another pause, and you considered breaking it, but you didn’t know how much that loss might sting to talk about. “Tell me about these Silver Lance crew. Are they all they’re hyped up to be?”

“They are,” you said, “My gunner shot down a plane.”

Von Walen looked over to you, eyebrows raised, “With a machine gun?”

“With the m/32’s tank cannon,” you said, “Nobody could believe it happened, but it did.”

“Damn,” Von Walen said, his mood lightening, “I don’t know if I believe that either, but you aren’t the sort to spout that kind of thing and be bullshitting. Especially after, you know, the ghost shit…There’s no more of that I need to shit myself about, right?”

“Not for now, no.”

“Thank God. How’d the rest of Netilland go, then, after I took off?”

“My platoon went out and killed a Netillian tank ace,” you said, “I didn’t take the shot. My platoon commander did. He and the enemy ace killed one another in their duel. I got caught up in a fight against his friend, or apprentice, or something. A Republic tank officer and I, we handled that.”

“A Republic tank officer?”

“We had spaces to fill in the platoons, and I got Hiedler to supply us with a good, experienced armor officer.”

“Hiedler, right,” Von Walen nodded, “The mustache guy. So is this Republic officer coming along, too?”

“If I can reach him.” If he’s survived. “A man called Planckner. He was a Death Head tank officer. Our enemy, once.”
>>
“This wedding’s gonna be a real strange gathering, it sounds like.” Von Walen’s tone belied an understanding of how much an understatement that was, “That war, though. It’s not over, though you’re back?”

“Yes,” you replied, “Though it looked like the Netillian Republicans were on track to win in the end. I don’t know what will happen in Ellowie, but from how things were going, I don’t think the fighting will last much longer…I’m hoping it will end in time for my wedding, so that friends involved in that can come over.” You sensed a space to bring it up, so you did, “I’m also to be promoted to be in command of an experimental unit. A demi-battalion, for the Von Blums. You’ll stay under my command, won’t you? A promotion’s in it for you. I need trusted officers.”

Von Walen pursed his lips. “I was thinking about ducking out of this whole soldiering thing, now that I’ve got what I do now…”

“Indulge me. We shouldn’t be taking on anything we haven’t been able to handle in the past.”

“I’ll think about it,” Von Walen said, “Where’s the next war, you think, anyways.”

“Probably Twaryi and Vynmark. Far away from us.”

“Who’ll win?”

You had to think on that. “I don’t know. Probably Twaryi. I don’t know if it’ll be a quick victory like Ellowie. Their enemy’s not outnumbered on two large fronts.”

“And where are we going, if I stick around with you?” Von Walen asked, with a glance.

“Not Vynmark,” you answered firmly.

“Good.”

-----

Framboise was in her own ward, along with the crew she’d taken along, who were in various stages of walking wounded. They brightened visibly at seeing you again- though they were wounded, they’d seemed to have healed a decent bit. How much, you wondered, might it be that Framboise wanted to stay? After all, her crew were her servants, and they’d stay with her wherever she went.

She did not open with New Nauk, though. She instead called to Von Walen in vibrant Emrean with a little wave and a smile, and he responded in a more sullen Emrean.
I can’t help you speak with her if you’re using a language I don’t understand, you thought in annoyance.

“Kommandant,” Framboise said to you as you came up next to her bed…a bandage was still wrapped around her head, but she was in a plain, loose shirt that struggled to remain loose along the top. A hospital gown probably would have failed to fit her. “Eet iz so nass o zee yoo again, I thought yoo might ‘ahve not zeen me again.”

You elbowed Von Walen. “Her face, Von Walen,” you hissed.

Framboise blinked and looked at Von Walen, and held her fingers to her mouth in a small, suppressed laugh, before saying something coy in Emrean. Von Walen flushed scarlet, and he looked down.
>>
“What was that?” you asked.

“She asked if I wanted to use my hands instead of my eyes,” Von Walen muttered.

Anyways. “My friend here Teobaldt Von Walen,” you said to Framboise, “Wanted to ask you something.”

Framboise cocked her head. “Waht? Can he not say waht eet iz?”

“He’s gotten a big house and land and now he wants a wife,” you said.

Framboise snickered, then laughed. “Non non non, Teo, we do no’ move so fast where ah cahm from, t’es fou.” Von Walen’s shoulders slumped, and she added, “Baht if yoo want to be ma copain zen we ah okay? Why deed yoo nah ask before?”

“…I dunno. I didn’t feel like it.” Von Walen said with an ill-tempered mutter.

Framboise said something in Emrean and beckoned to Von Walen, and when he came close, she snatched an arm around his neck and pulled his face into he chest, and held him there, smothering him with a shock, but not a struggle. “I woo’ zink that ze men who go to Sosaldt woo’ be more forward, baht, ah…” She sighed and touched Von Walen’s hair, frowned, and scolded something in Emrean. “Teo is a…rabbit? Oui, a rabbit man, when it is women and not a battle. Ah will teach him too be bold, hee hee hee.”

You stepped over and tapped Von Walen on the shoulder. “I believe my end of our bargain is fulfilled, then? I’ll need you to fulfill yours in a few days.”

There wasn’t a response, but you felt that there must have been an understanding.

>Ask about anything else?
>Well, you were done here. Time to depart.
>Other?
Also-
>Go to visit Von Metzeler
>Go to get your Retinue
>Head back to the Blumlands
>Other?
>>
>>5292351
Well that went a lot smoother than I anticipated.

>Well, you were done here. Time to depart.
>Head back to the Blumlands
>>
>>5292351
>Ask about anything else?
How the are woman and her crew doing?
Would she be willing to see the Kommandant's real love life blossom, by coming to Richter's wedding or is she content with her book and new man?
Has she done any other reading while stuck in hospital?
How do Emrean guys feel about scars, because we got two ill tempered ladies that need dates and are open to recommendations.

>Go to get your Retinue
We'll get Rondo after.
>>
>>5292351
>Other?
Read any good books lately?
>>
>>5292351
Von Walen finally got lucky! My man!
>Ask about anything else?
Ask if they have any plans?
Ask if she can send her regards to Debon. We like his style the most.
>Other?
Start writing a book when leaving: On adaptive warfare. The book will be about the importance of independent command, mechanized logistics, ambushes and unconventional warfare.
Am open for other theme's and suggestions.
The book should cover Richter's experience in a wide variaty of warfare.
>>
>>5292351
Ask if her crew/servants are recovering fine, has her family gotten news of what's happened? They might be worried if they haven't heard anything.

Invite her to the wedding as Teo's plus one as well as a comrade we've fought with in Sosaldt, she was there for the town defence and jammer raid after all. Should be quite a few people there that can speak Emrean so she shouldn't feel out of place.

>Other
Go find Karel Van Halm, ask Von Walen what he remembers of him from our Academy days.

I'll also support writing a book on Richter's experiences as a long term thing as per >>5292413 (or getting someone to type it down/ghostwrite given our fingers)
>>
>>5292351
>Ask about anything else?
The aforementioned suggestions are all quite good
>Go to visit Von Metzeler
If we were to collect Anya, do we know where we might housing her? Would Lord Von Blum offer her guest lodgings or would we be putting her up in a nearby hotel until the wedding?
Also, to sate personal curiosity, is there any place you can point to that might be a decent general analog, in terms of real world architecture, for the cities of Mittelsosalia? Todesfelsen and Rostig in particular.
>>
>>5292351
Well, as the they Emreans would say, tray bean.
>Well, you were done here. Time to depart.
For what its worth Von Walen, you did fight to be here. Probably deserve the estate and the woman at least twice over really.
>Go to get your Retinue
Maybe best not to leave her at home for too long. She could probably help with physical training ideas too, or at least help figure out how to do the Major's special attack the most effectively.
>>5292413
>Other?
>Start writing a book when leaving: On adaptive warfare.
A book may be a good idea to get going, but I would want to write it for a purpose. I would want to try and put up a competing doctrine for the Archduchy's Battle Line. A knightly charge of armored warriors sounds great on paper, but it seems very unadaptable and vulnerable if the enemy is expecting it. I like the Silver Lances organization of two tank groups at the smallest level, combined together into larger platoons to allow for more flexibility and adaptability in combat. I know that is a pretty long term goal and will probably only have a limited effect in even the best scenario, but it is something I had been thinking on to improve outside of just the physical tanks properties themselves.
>>
>>5292351
Well that was easy.
This wouldn't work in real life though ...right?
>>
>>5292657
Top 5 places to find women as a man under 6 foot: #1 Inside the burning wreckage of a tank
>>
>>5292657
Teo lucked out with Fram's personality I'd say. Would be funny to see the Major's reaction though.
>>
>>5292351
>Ask about anything else?
Wish her luck and ditto with the invitation.

>Go to get your Retinue
Anya is probably stir crazy, and since she isn't combat fit yet she can hang out our parents place if she wants or if not then I'm sure there's quarters in the Blumlands army barracks that we'll be taking over. Considering we are probably going to be spending a lot of time in training and R&D we can set some roots.
>>
A variety of short convo options across the board.

As for next location-

>>5292372
Back to the Bum Lands

>>5292375
>>5292601
>>5292722
Retrieve Fluffy

>>5292535
Man time to talk to that guy for the first time in five fucking years god damn.

>>5292579
Get Mr. Schneeberg.

Also-

>>5292413
>>5292535
>>5292601
Get writing on a book. You'll have plenty of time to work on it and research for it, after all.

Writing.

>>5292579
>If we were to collect Anya, do we know where we might housing her? Would Lord Von Blum offer her guest lodgings or would we be putting her up in a nearby hotel until the wedding?
The housing for retinue is typically the responsibility of their patron to handle. So in this case, yes, you should expect guest lodgings to be provided at your request, including a paid-for room, if other quarters are unavailable.
Failing that she can just sleep in the same bed as you and Maddy. Not like the latter's been going there at night anyways.
>Also, to sate personal curiosity, is there any place you can point to that might be a decent general analog, in terms of real world architecture, for the cities of Mittelsosalia? Todesfelsen and Rostig in particular.
I'm tragically not familiar enough with the geography of old european shitholes that aren't stuffed with concrete commie cubes to give a good answer to that, but to try and give an approximation, I'll describe their general feel.
See, Sosaldt was never really controlled even under the rule of Alexander. Reich military governors had forts built that they commanded from, and frequently these forts were abandoned after the Duke's Revolt as it became difficult to supply and maintain them, and many governates broke off of their own accord and became the ancestors of the present city states.
Most new construction is quite cheap, but the wealthier places do approximate a style that is quite old- pre Alexander, or perhaps the style of construction during Reich reign, depending on the place. Rostig is an example of a post-Reich era style settlement, while Todesfelsen is very much a Reich-era styled city what with its imperial fortress centerpiece.
To put it shortly, they tend to look old even if they really aren't, which is part of what makes Wossehnalia stand out- its skyscraper is an extremely distinctive sight. I'd hesitate to call most any Sosaldtian city state beautiful, or even aesthetic- they're tangled and congealed messes, badly in need of urban restructuring.
At least the rent's cheap, if existent.

>>5292684
There were a few advantages. One, he speaks her language so she isn't uncomfortable communicating with him, two is his proximity to the adventures that inspired her in the first place, three is that he nobly saved her life, so really, she's plenty willing to at least give him a chance.
Anything else is up for debate.
>>
“I don’t mean to interrupt anything,” you said as Von Walen seemed to have passed away in the Emrean woman’s bosom, “But I did want to ask how you and your men were doing. You’ve been here some time, after all. How long away from home…”

A servant-crewman answered that. “There will be scars, limps, but nothing that cannot be adjusted to. The lady wishes not to anger her lord father with how this has turned out,” he said, standing straight as he could though he had a crutch and his arm in a sling, “While he would be frustrated that this adventure is taking so long, he would be furious if he knew that she came to this amount of harm. As well as us.”

“So very good zat zis little man saved ahs,” Framboise rubbed Von Walen’s head, though more as she were toying with a dog than a person.

“The Lapin was lost still, my lady,” another servant said dourly, “That was not inexpensive, even for war materiel.”

Framboise cooled at the mention of the lost tank. No, she’d still be getting quite the dressing down when she returned…

“Since you’re not walking around,” you said, “Have you done any more reading? Anything…good?”

“Ah…non, ah ‘ave been trying to keep oop with ze news,” She gestured to a desk with a stack of newspapers, “So mahch happening, yoo zee.”

Closer inspection told you that they were foreign newspapers- though rather old, now, and in New Nauk. Delsan, perhaps? Or further abroad? The headlines referred to the new union of Pohjanazkh- geographically, it was separated from Emre by a recently reconquered territory of the Reich…

“Close to home,” you mused aloud, “When you do return, would you mind giving Richter Von Tracht’s regards to your uncle, Debon? He has been influential to me.”

Framboise’s eyes widened, she blinked, and she angrily scolded Von Walen in Emrean again. A muffled defensive uttering came in reply. “Er, oui, baht…I do not think he will want ze regards of…an Archdoochy fighter. Maybe he will like ze Kommandant better…”

It didn’t need to be explained why. Utopian Revolutionaries were fundamentally opposed to the nature of the sort of society the Archduchy operated under. Perhaps, the sort of societies most nations in general were. Though, if it helped that your words would be said to be from a man so wreathed in legend as the Kommandant, perhaps imagination would fill things in for your benefit.
>>
“If you are staying for a while longer, perhaps you’ll be feeling better in a few weeks,” you said, “My wedding to my fiancée Maddalyn Von Blum will then. I would like to invite you, if you like. Official invitations should be ready in a few days, but just to say ahead of time, if you won’t be too busy, or recuperating still.” For some reason, she was hesitant, so you elaborated. “I’m inviting everybody who’s been with me on my journeys, who’s helped me along the way. I feel like you all deserve to see where you’ve gotten me to.”

“I will think about it,” Framboise said, still not sure. It was a rather heavy event to drop on somebody in only a few weeks, but that was hardly your fault.

…Well, maybe it was your fault.

“As long as it doesn’t conflict with any other plans…” Perhaps best not to ask after those presently- the answer was probably no- these people probably weren’t like your retinue, getting into trouble in spite of injury.

…You ought to go get her soon.

The reminder to yourself made you think of a final query. “Say,” you gave to the room, “What do Emrean think of…women with scars? I’m trying to tie down the bachelorettes in my company.”

The servants all looked at each other, and discussed something gravely in Emrean, before looking back to you all as one. “Most think of Sosalians as…” one started.
Another finished in a more succinct summary. “If these women are your friends then you would not direct Emrean men to them. The sort that would pursue them.”
Point taken.

“Well, if you do decide to attend the wedding,” you said as you turned to leave, “There might be people you know there, is all. My fiancée and her family speak Emrean, so if you’d rather not speak New Nauk, then that’s an option. Rest well.

-----

It would require being away for longer, but while you were closer to Sosaldt than the Blumlands, it felt necessary to go and retrieve Anya. Did you need her around? No. But you wanted her around, and besides, she couldn’t attend your wedding if she was stuck at her home in Lark, a nothing village next to Todesfelsen. She’d spent enough time with her sister. You were taking her back now. In the days to come, you would need her skills, if you were to handle this new unit you were being given with any level of competency.
>>
So east you went the next morning- and despite the border with Strossvald being the Republic of Mittelsosalia now, the new Republic’s hold over its land and borders was tenuous as best. Upon asking how you should enter, you were bemused when advised to just walk on over, if you really wanted to. An inquiry on the pretext of doing proper business gave you a more serious answer.

Mail services had been set up as quickly as what border security there was- and the two organizations intersected, naturally. If you wanted to go to a part of Mittelsosalia, you didn’t need a passport- you just needed to pay a fee to a mail courier, and you could ride along until their delivery schedule and your destination intersected. Only for a very small amount of people, of course. These weren’t bus services.

Good enough, still. You found a courier at the depot who accepted a bit more change to go straight to Todesfelsen, and by the time you reached Lark, the sun was low in the sky- partly because of the unexpected administrative work you needed to do.

It was unrecognizable from when you had last come here. A new facility and accompanying structures had been built to house a military outpost, a vehicle maintenance stop, and all the associated business that drew. A cottage you remembered shooting up had been messily plastered over, but it took serious investigation to see where you’d once been.
Thankfully, even if you were lost, you benefited from being extremely recognizable.

“Oi. Fairy boy.” A nasally voice called to you.

You looked to your side, and saw Anya there, leaned up against a wall- one arm still cast up and in a sling, from how it was bent, but the other clenched a splotchy-colored peach, which had a few bites taken out of it already. She was wearing that shawl Malachi had given her- and a loose pair of heavy canvas pants that cut off at army boots, and a blouse just short enough to cut off just above her bellybutton. Ambling over to her, you wrapped an arm around her back and pulled your retinue into your chest.

“Hey, lay off,” Anya said with a stiffening of her shoulders, “Not out here so public. Save the sappy stuff for later.

“It’s good to see you up and about,” you said, “How is your arm?”

“Still shit,” Anya said, “At least it’s still stuck onto me.” She took a bite of peach, and spoke through it, “Youf godda lod uh dell.”

“I don’t remember fruit like that being on sale around here,” you said- it looked decently fresh, not canned or preserved at all.
>>
“Stuff comes through here to Todesfelsen,” Anya explain with a pointing finger, “Some store owners found out who to suck up to for first pick of the lot.” She picked out the stone from the fruit with her teeth and balanced it on her tongue, before sucking on it and spitting it into the dust in a long, high arc. “I like these things, those stones in there are a good size for chucking at morons.”

“As long as you don’t spit them at people.”

“Yeah, I do that.”

“…” You shook your head, “Anyways. I’ve come here to get you. I’d quite like you back. Do you want to come along? I figured you might be going stir crazy here.”

“Kinda.” Anya said, with little energy, “I’m trying to give Alina less shit. I bought a little shack so we can both live there, instead of her having to lick the mayor’s fucking balls to stay in his place. Some brownies came around to tell me that I’d abandoned my post as courier, but that I’d been pardoned because of that ass fucking we gave the Netillians up at that fort. So they just came to waste my time with a lecture before giving me a piece of paper saying I’d get a medal sometime. Wants one thing then wants another then says never mind. Stupid ass government. Who needs it.”

“You want to go to your place, then?” You asked, “I didn’t want to just swoop in and snatch you away anyways. Have you met anybody new?”

“Bunch of dumb bitches that Alina’s pals with. I don’t like ‘em.” Anya said dismissively, “A few Hogs still come by. Tell ‘em not to baby me, then we go and throw shit or play cards and dice. Mess with the tank. It’s not so bad, but I want to get back into the shit yesterday, y’know?” She finished the peach and sucked on her fingers, “Oh yeah, the house. Nah. We’re out here. You’re still alive after whatever happened up north. Let’s go do somethin’. Have some fun. You got back alive, so did I.”
>>
“Alright,” you accepted, though you were still weighing how long you should goof off for, considering you could go back to Strossvald and do that just as well. Though there was far less potential for rowdiness. “What were you thinking of?”

“I was thinkin’ of getting’ a tattoo,” Anya said, pointing to her shoulder, “On my back, like the right side. I dunno. I saw somebody with that and I thought it was pretty neat. Maybe I’d go for less. I wasn’t sure, figured I should ask somebody who gives a shit about if it’s cool. Maybe you oughta get one too, huh?”

>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.
>Why not? It was something mercenaries did- though perhaps not soldiers of the Archduchy. You had a suggestion… (Write In)
>Both of you could get a tattoo- it wasn’t as though you hadn’t had your body messed with enough as is. (Write In)
>Other?
Also-
>Think of something to go do to hang out. It doesn’t have to be an involved trip, but you shouldn’t be in a hurry to hop back over the border. Especially later in the day.
For example-
>Do some sparring. Funny as it might seem for a couple of cripples to play fight, you wanted to learn- and you wanted her to get some action.
>Treat her to some dinner in Todesfelsen. Anya was easy to please with food, after all.
>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
>Anything else on the table- save for getting wasted. Unless you really want to.
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.

>Anything else on the table- save for getting wasted. Unless you really want to.
Pound some whiskey back and find a place to have some FUN. Dance hall, bowling, movie, a fair. Hell, a museum! Roll the dice and walk around to find something.
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.

>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.

>Do some sparring. Funny as it might seem for a couple of cripples to play fight, you wanted to learn- and you wanted her to get some action.
>>
>>5293812
>Why not? It was something mercenaries did- though perhaps not soldiers of the Archduchy. You had a suggestion…
Some buttons running down her navel so she can at least pretend to be wearing her uniform correctly.

>Other?
How has she been faring with the painkillers? Any notworthy side effects? Is she at a dosage where she's safe to drink? If she's up and about, hopefully, she's past the worst of it, but it's worth asking, considering the nature of some 1930s medicine.

>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.

>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
but if she's of the mind that this isn't exactly a good time:
>Do some sparring. Funny as it might seem for a couple of cripples to play fight, you wanted to learn- and you wanted her to get some action.

Also, it'd be kinda neat if we could take the tank with us into Strossvald. We should look into that, it's an extra tank, and I'm sure Anya would appreciate it.
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.

>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
Make sure to get some light refreshments too.
Don't get piss drunk while working on heavy machinery, but get a casual whiskey in yah.
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.

Anyone can ink a tat, scars are earned on the battlefield.

>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?

Does she plan to find a permanent crew for it?
>>
>>5293812
>Come on now. Anya ought to know that her scars were better than any tattoo could hope to be. As well as the scars you shared.
And yet...a tattooed outline of Richter's hand on her right cheek. You know which cheek I mean. Yes it can be his right hand.

>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
How the hell did that get salvaged and delivered here? The Hogs? We should also contemplate the headache of transporting (smuggling) it over the border. Or bribe her with another tank.

>Other?
I forget if we've told her about the promotion. It should come up at some point but since she is building her own tank, any ideas she can think of to improve Archduchy standard would be handy.heh
>>
>>5293812
>Why not? It was something mercenaries did- though perhaps not soldiers of the Archduchy.
Option number 1 sounds unhealthily possessive
>>
>>5293812
>Mess with the tank, she said? So she had it here? How about you do something with that?
>>
>>5293816
>>5293822
>>5293827
>>5293979
>>5294000
>>5294118
>>5294449
Gee I wonder if there's a preference here.

>>5293904
The sarcastic tattoo.

>>5294462
Get what you want.
Unhealthily possessive of your retinue and pseudo-cousin? Surely not. What would give you that idea? :^)

>>5293816
Hit the city, black out.

>>5293822
>>5293904
>>5293979
>>5294000
>>5294118
>>5294449
>>5294464
A tank, you say? It's been too long since I got in one...

>>5293827
Time to bite her thigh for the third time.

>>5293904
How have those painkillers been?

Writing.
>>
No, a tattoo wouldn’t be cool, you thought. “Aren’t your scars better than any tattoo could hope to be? Anybody can have ink put in them. A battle scar can’t be paid for.”

Anya turned her head slightly, and thought to herself. “I guess, if you put it like that. Don’t need something trying t’ take away from those…” Her uncertainty on actually getting one showed itself-if you disapproved, that was the push needed, and from her reaction…that you said they were better gave her even more pause for thought.

“If you’re going to get one anyways, I’d suggest some buttons in a line there,” you pointed to her stomach, “So you can at least pretend to wear a uniform right.”

Anya gave you an evil smirk. “Yeah? Maybe I oughta get a tattoo of your handprint on my ass, huh?”

She wasn’t the only one who could be mischievous. “My right hand, then.”

“I’ll do it.”

“…” You paused, and Anya’s look grew more smugly sinister. “Don’t do that.”

“You’ll give me a scar with those metal fingers first, I bet,” Anya grinned wide in triumph.

“Oh, stop,” you sighed, “You mentioned a tank. The same one you had before? It’s here? How did that even get down here?”

“It got fixed up and driven down,” Anya put a hand to her chest, “It’s my tank. I took it. Ain’t no papers sayin’ so but the gun’s mine, at least. So says your hoity toity Archduchy.”

Any clerk would see this situation and bury their face in their hands from the administrative tangle. Maybe that was how she even kept a piece of valuable war loot. Yet…it was insecure here, sort of. If you could get it back to the Archduchy, everybody involved could benefit.

“Let’s mess around with that tank, then,” you said, “Nothing like casual outings with a tank.” Though the fuel and maintenance prices were prohibitive, for making that a normal thing. “It does run, right? And have fuel?”

Anya snorted. “Of course it does. It’s a tank, not a scrap heap. The Hogs fixed it up and sent it back with me. C’mon. It’s in a shed behind my shack.” So you’d be heading to her house anyways, for what it was.
>>
Though she called it a shack, it was actually more readily described as a cottage. An older construction, relatively, but the storage shed in back was new, and about half the size of the home, that you were not going into. The tank might have had the best living conditions of anybody who might have been in the place, you saw as Anya gestured for you to pull open the two large doors after unlocking a heavy chain, improvised from large steel sheets with bent plates bolted into them for handles. The floor was concrete, and an electric lamp and fan were connected to a gas generator that must have been a significant investment, you had assumed- but no. It was more war loot, ripped out of some innocent wreck and put here- bolted into the concrete so it couldn’t be stolen.

The tank itself hadn’t changed much from when you last saw it- though some new paint adorned it. Dust Devil adorned the turret as a name in black, and kill marks had been painted on the barrel of the gun, as well. Open topped- which was the reason your retinue was down an arm.

“Did you spend more on the garage than the house?” You had to ask.

“Definitely. Don’t need much t’ live in.” Anya said as she moved around the tank, performing a brief inspection. “Don’t mind worin’ that crank, do ya? Hard for me to do that right now. Gotta put my back into it even with two arms.”

“Of course,” you stepped up, “…Do you have medicine for the pain?”

Aya frowned. “Yeah. I don’t like taking it though. I’m pretty used to it hurting now. I don’t like getting doped on that shit. My mom got addicted to it. Forgot everything else. When I take the morphine, I…I feel myself goin’ like that. I don’t want to ignore the pain. Makes me have to think about how I got it. I’d rather hurt than lose myself.”

You’d hardly ever seen a wounded person turn down pain medication, but given Anya’s spite for her mother, her justification was understandable. “So you can drink, like before?”

“Damn, wanting t’ start early, huh,” Anya poked you in the side, “You got a problem?”

“Yes, and she’s standing right beside me.”

“Eat me,” Anya kicked you lightly on the foot, “Shut your yap with the smartass comments and get this thing started. We got places t’ go.”

The tank got started up, and you slotted the crankshaft back into the tank’s toolbox. “I was serious about the drinks, though. Do you have anything here?”

“Warm beer and moonshine,” Anya dug around under a shelf, “Anything fancier, you’re gonna have t’ buy yourself.”
>>
“It’ll do. Give me one of those bottles.” Anya opened both bottles with the edge of a metal worktable, and tossed one to you. “I ought to tell you some good news to toast to,” you said as you sniffed the beer. Some sort of salty, sour ale of one sort or another. The label said Gose. “You’ve been awarded the right to wear the Silver Shield of Roland by the Archduke. Something else to put in the medal box. I’m also to be promoted to Major, and placed in command of an experimental demi-battalion. Things are looking up. So. To a brighter future.”

“To gettin' shot up again someday.” A clink of bottles.

“So,” you said after a pull of the salty beer. It wasn’t to your taste, but it was tolerable. “You have any crew for this machine?”

“Don’t need more’n two if we’re just messing around with it.”

“For the future, I mean.”

“Dunno,” Anya shrugged her shoulders high, “I was just gonna take yours. There’s always hogs willing but they’re not doin’ it ‘cause I want them there, y’know?”

“There’s time. Especially if you come back to help me with my unit. The Von Blums are tinkering with tanks, and I think they’ll appreciate practical advice.”

Anya’s eyes widened. “Making new stuff? Sounds wild. Lemme in on that.”

“Once we’re over there.” There was a level of secrecy to some projects, after all.

“Hey, drive this thing,” Anya pointed to the hull, “It’s hard for me to work the levers like this. I’ll be up top.”

The driver’s compartment was a bit cramped- this was based off an Emrean tank, from what you recalled, but all the words inside were in New Nauk- and labeled with Arsenal South. The Sosaldtian bootleg mechanized war materiel builder. This design had a complicated history even before Anya took the turret off and replaced it with an armored box with a Strossvald 4.7 centimeter gun in it. You did remember some refresher courses in how to crew the tank, but the handling of the levers still felt somewhat…unfamiliar.

“Oi, put the headset on!” Anya called down from above. You did- and it struck you, looking around at everything that was in here, how valuable this tank was even for it being a workshop bastard built from loot and copies.

Maybe that was part of why Anya liked it as much as she did.

“Gear check, this is Von Tracht, calling Fluffy.”

“Don’t make me go down there and kick you in the back of the head, Fairy Boy,” Anya said back, “Take us out. Let’s give the local losers a show.”

A few tests of the control levers and some pushes of the foot later, you eased the tank out of the garage nice and slow, in case any children or fools were gathering too closely to the new noise. The engine sounded smooth- Stein’s sister must have put in some extra work on it. Despite Anya’s hostility to being cared for by her former outfit, they still doted on her plenty. Good for them.
>>
“We can just drive this thing over the border, yeah?” Anya asked.

“…Not unless we want to be attacked,” you said, “We’ll have to fly a truce flag and move to a checkpoint. As long as I can tell somebody that I am a commissioned officer of Strossvald transferring personal property of my Retinue across the border without being shot at, we’ll be fine.” When you looked around the hull earlier, you had noticed there was still ammunition stored within. You could take this thing out for a fight, if you really wanted to. “So what can we do with this tank?”

“Buncha things,” Anya said in your ear as you opened the forward hatch viewport all the way. No snipers would be taking cracks at you here. Hopefully. “Make sure you drive careful. Breaking track’s going to be a sharp rock right up the ass with a girl with one arm and a guy with one and a half hands.”

“Noted.”

“Anyways. There’s a scrap heap nearby where you had that battle back when. Could take potshots at those. If we’re feeling helpful, there’s shagherds that need to be culled up north near one of the cave groups. Those pay decent if we get some ears, and it’s no-guilt blasting. Or there’s the new Brownies drilling over south. We can mess with them. Crack off some fireworks and spook those wet-behind-the-ears recruits, or just see if we can bum some meat off the fire.”


>A trip down memory lane sounds nice. Shooting at old hulks never hurt anybody either.
>Hunting? With a tank? Count yourself in. Though Shagherds were plenty dangerous when aggressive…
>New soldiers of the Republic needed some harassment to harden them up. Go and mess with them.
>Other?
>>
>>5294945
>New soldiers of the Republic needed some harassment to harden them up. Go and mess with them.
>>
>>5294945
>A trip down memory lane sounds nice. Shooting at old hulks never hurt anybody either.
Let's not piss off allies or potentially get ourselves killed, yah?
>>
>>5294945
>>Hunting? With a tank? Count yourself in. Though Shagherds were plenty dangerous when aggressive…
Tanks beat wild animals, right?
>>
>>5294945
Does this thing have an MG? But yeah, let's not get ourselves killed right before our wedding for some stupid joyride.
>A trip down memory lane sounds nice. Shooting at old hulks never hurt anybody either.
>>
>>5294945
>Hunting? With a tank? Count yourself in. Though Shagherds were plenty dangerous when aggressive…
>>
File: dustdevil.png (441 KB, 1500x471)
441 KB
441 KB PNG
>>5295040
>Does this thing have an MG?
It does.
Staubteufel is not written on this as I have not decided whether it is handwritten or stenciled.
>>
>>5294945
>A trip down memory lane sounds nice. Shooting at old hulks never hurt anybody either.
Let's go plinking with a 2 inch gun and piss off the scrap merchants.
>>
>>5294945
>A trip down memory lane sounds nice. Shooting at old hulks never hurt anybody either.

Hunting would be good if it wasn't so late in the day
>>
>>5295079
Also nice picture, you wouldn't think that it was some kind of Frankenstein machine looking and it. It's a fixed turret right? How far can the gun traverse sideways?

Since Anya wants to bring this back we could set up some kind of Panzerjäger detachment for our demi-battalion using all those reserve tank hulls and production lines the Von Blums still have, with this as a possible inspiration.
>>
>>5295230
I suppose it depends on which of the 3 kinds of reserve tanks get used for the pending 8cm infantry suppot gun conversion, but it definitely seems doable, if the anons can tolerate the (hopefully temporary) added logistics burden of another unit of non-m/32 based vehicles, until the workshop can work out getting those replacement engines from Valsten. With that many stock m/32 engines around after the HonMo conversions we might even be able to rehouse them in said reserve tanks (engineer miracle working permitting) and cut off another tail from the logistics headache the old tanks present, but now we really are navel gazing heh.
My only issue with the tank hunter idea is it feels a bit out of character to me, like it's us looking at real world armoured warfare development and trying to influence the battalion with the benefit of hindsight.
Where Richter has encountered dedicated fast tank ambushing units in Ellowie and Sosaldt, they've both been comprised of wheeled vehicles with AT guns/rockets and lots of smoke rather than something tank based. I feel like we'd need to justify that leap from what - in Richter's point of view- seems already an established idea i.e.: Tank hunting is the job of mechanised infantry in wheeled vehicles fast enough to outmanuever tanks.
>>
>>5295323
Going to be a semi-long post so bear with the autism.

>Logistics burden and engine

Personally, I don't think logistics will be much of a problem, since all the reserve tanks are mature platforms that the Army has had experience with for years; our unit as equipped was going to come with a mixed fleet anyway.

As for the engines I do agree if we manage to get them replaced seeing if they could fit into the older tanks might be a worthwhile idea, while the m/32 stock engine may be underpowered for its hull, for the older tanks it could quite possibly be an significant upgrade for them. Having a open-topped turret or removing them entirely would save a lot of weight which would place less strain on the engine.

>Doctrine and reasons for development

I don't see the tank destroyers being used to actively chase down or flank tanks; while they *could* as seen by Anya at Sunderschimm, TDs with fixed turrets like the Dust Devil aren't really meant to be employed like that. They're to be used as mobile anti-tank guns that can keep up with the armour as well as shoot and scoot easily on the defensive.

And in fact we do have the perfect experience for that blueprint; the Crown Taker, and how he basically managed to snipe so many of our allies with impunity (especially during the Sleepwalker op).

Another driving factor would be cost. TDs would be cheaper and faster to make than new tanks (to use a RL example a StuG III was something like 80% of the cost a Panzer III to produce). Based on the figures tanq has given, the split between m/32 of all types and other models for the Von Blum Panzer corps is roughly 55-45, which is a lot of older tanks still in service.

Given that m/32 production isn't likely to be able to phase out the old tanks anytime soon (much less the B model), converting a sizable amount of them into platforms that can deal with modern armour and using existing production lines would be a decent stopgap solution, considering like with the Netillans everyone's competiting for their stuff to be modernised (as seen by our giant wish list during the requisition vote).
>>
>>5295429
Open top / Turret vs Casemate breaks down into trading "utility" and crew factors for weight and internal volume savings, and generally decide whether a conversion suited to TD (Anti-Tank) or SPG (Infantry support) role

I would probably recommend that both a Long barrel and short barrel variants (HE mass is important to infantry support, and thin walled shells are where most of the gains will come from not solely caliber, so an exclusive "High capacity, Low velocity" HE shell for a prospective short barrel type may not be a bad idea) are looked at, and that elevation angles are kept in mind, since defilade shooting and indirect fire are going to be important for shooting from prepared positions safely, since we are likely to be on the defensive (at least at first), reverse speed and loader "assistance", will also be useful to taking advantage of any opportunities that come of things.

The most important thing that is getting a good feel for the surrounding area in and around our Assigned area, so we can predict and tailor our engagements to our advantage.
>>
>>5295513
Well we're already converting some of the older tanks into SPGs so I think we're covered as far as infantry support goes, though I wouldn't be opposed to have some assault guns either. Agreed on the geography part though it'll depend on whether the unit will primarily stay at home or if Lord Von Blum is willing to send it out like the Lances do to gain experience.

BTW tanq do you still have the sketches of those m28-45s that were jury-rigged up for the Guillotines the first time we were here? A conversion would basically be fancier versions of those methinks.
>>
File: adlasm2845.jpg (298 KB, 800x732)
298 KB
298 KB JPG
>>5294956
Haze the new recruits.

>>5294974
>>5295040
>>5295145
>>5295186
Plinking on the wrecks of yesteryear.

>>5294985
>>5295056
Go on a hunt.

Writing.

>>5295230
>It's a fixed turret right? How far can the gun traverse sideways?
It is actually not fixed. The Dust Devil is built on top of the hull of an Atelier de Lunaire Arsenal South Model B (AdLAS B) Emrean cavalry tank (or rather, a clone of it), but the turret was partially replaced rather than entirely stripped out. Or, to put it more simply, a metal box was welded on top of it where most of it was chopped off so it could fit the gun it has in it now. The new turret is a bit lighter despite the infantry anti tank gun shoved into it (which means it retains the same movements as said gun- for better or worse), what with being barely armor at all, and longer and thrust further forward, so it can't actually turn a full three hundred sixty degrees in one go.
Does it turn very well? Not particularly. It's a result of a scrap crew hacking apart a turret and putting their recreational project in its place, not an engineering marvel. It does turn, though.

>>5295527
>BTW tanq do you still have the sketches of those m28-45s that were jury-rigged up for the Guillotines the first time we were here?
I had to recreate it from a tiny picture of it from part of a battalion roster, but sure.
Mind you, these are guns stripped off of old ships from down south, so it's relatively certain in whatever project you have in mind that you should have access to better weapon options than you had back in Sosaldt picking through whatever you could find in the trash.

Picture is the base model of the AdLAS-B and the recreated m/28-45
>>
“Let’s take a trip down to that field of memories,” you suggested to Anya, “I haven’t been around that place since…well, since the hulks now there first arrived.”

“Cool. Let’s shoot ‘em up some more, too,” Anya said, “See if you remember any that pissed you off, give ‘em another shell in the side.”

“The authorities won’t mind cannon fire, will they?”

“Fuck ‘em,” Anya said back, “What are they gonna do, come up to us and ask us pretty please to stop shooting up garbage? They owe us.”
The disdain for authority wouldn’t fly back in the Archduchy, but hopefully, being attached to the Von Blums would mitigate things. Here though… “I suppose we aren’t at risk of being more than a nuisance.”

With that, you fumbled about with the tank’s controls until you figured out again what the dials really indicated, and you moved forwards slowly, out of the town, as the locals gawked at this strange armored vehicle moving out from a seemingly plain house. How many of them even knew the people who lived there, you wondered.

A couple of barrels of fuel were mounted on brackets on the back, but Anya assured you that it wouldn’t be a problem. “Gas is cheaper than it’s ever been,” she said, “Dunno if it’s because of the Republic or because the pumpjacks don’t have to be guarded so tight. Either way, even with how much gas a tank guzzles, we won’t get stuck. No chance.”

The dusty rolling plain was clear, and the sky had no clouds- finding the former battlefield again was easy, as you remembered faintly where you had gone, directed by Loch’s tactical plan, itself influenced by the prediction of a northward blowing dust storm. There was no dust storm today, thankfully, and a recent rain meant that not nearly as much red particulate sprayed up around the tank either.

“Down to our right,” Anya said, “I see some.”

“What do they look like?”

“Death Heads, from the black paint. Move us up that hill up front a ways, we’ll be close enough to see the damage we do to these.”

“Moving.”

Once you arrived, Anya called you up to the turret. “I don’t want to work whatever bootleg traverse they stuck in here with one arm. Get on up here, I need a loader.”

Humph. Which one of you was the tank commander here?
>>
Anya was reclining on the edge of the turret in the commander’s seat when you got up, eyes half closed as she looked at the wrecks now to the south. “So this right here happened after we met, huh.”

“Not immediately after,” you thought back, “This was after we made an initial attack at that quarry turned fort. Called the Gash or something.”

“Was a big fuckin’ Gash. Bet they changed the name now.”

“That was to lure out some groups after Crannick died,” you said. There were no secrets between you and Anya…supposedly. Though you had revealed some to her. Did some more elaboration need to be made? Including the nature of Crannick’s assassination? She didn’t ask about it. It was all in the past. It could have been years, as far as she seemed concerned. Todesfelsen hadn’t been a place of friends, for her. “The Republic’s forces were weaker, so our commander in chief used a dust storm he’d predicted coming to even the odds, so that everything was in knife fighting range. We ended up the victors.”

“Whatever happened to that guy?” Anya asked, “Since you ain’t talkin’ about yourself.”

“I don’t know,” you said, “And I’m thinking I don’t need to know. He left somewhere else and hasn’t bothered me since I was here as Kommandant. Can I see those, for a moment?” You looked out over the mass of tanks through binoculars that you borrowed from Anya, “No T-15s…”

“Those were the best tanks we had,” Anya said, “Don’t think anybody would have left those out to rust. They’d rebuild them even if they were empty as a broken eggshell. I’d try and take one if we found it out here.”

“One tank isn’t enough for you?” You asked as you handed back the binoculars and began to turn the turret, leaning on a lever. Whatever the Iron Hogs did to modify this, the power traverse somehow still worked, though more slowly, and when it stopped, it jerked heavily. It hadn’t been designed for this turret at all, and the hand traverse was much gentler.

“One tank’s fine. I want as many as I can get anyways. Why not? Just in case.” Anya took over for you, glancing through the gun scope a couple times. “I’ll try and go for that little Netillian box there. It’s got a fat ass, see if I can put one right through it. Load me up with an AP.”
>>
You reached for the ready rack and found a shell as Anya made adjustments with the handles and cranks to adjust the guns. “I took my fiancée into this battle, as crew.”

“Oh yeah? How’d she do?”

“She knows how to work a radio very well,” you said, “A hobby from before. She couldn’t use the bow gun at all, though. She isn’t suited for war…and she got shot. I haven’t taken her into a battle since.”

“Shot? From inside a tank?”

“We had to leave the tank for a short time,” you said, unsure whether to say why. You’d told Anya about the Presence, spirits, and such…but hadn’t said what your wife’s connection to it all was. “It was to save Krause. I don’t regret it…but I’d rather not put her in harm’s way again. She’s not keen on entering battle again, either.” A pause, “My wedding, by the by. You’re invited to it.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Anya said, “Firing.”

The blast of a 4.7 centimeter cannon was far louder when not inside an enclosed turret, you found out as you covered your ears in a hurry, and the ringing faded to the sound of Anya laughing, the brass shell casing still clattering about in the bottom of the hull after the semi-automatic mechanism had kicked it out.

“Look at that shit, gave that little runt a wedgie,” she pointed to the tankette and handed you the binoculars. The impact of the shell had crumpled up the engine access hatch, and dust floated about still from the impact of the shell. “I still got it.”
>>
“The wedding, though,” you insisted, shaking your head, “I talked to Maddalyn about it. I convinced her to accept you there. It’s important to me. You’ll be coming back anyways, after all. I want you two to not be enemies.”

“I’m not her enemy,” Anya said in a bored tone, “I know when it’s a bad idea to stick my nose in something. No need for trouble.”

“The food will be excellent,” you tried to lure her in, “Everybody I’ve met and who’s helped me is going to be invited. Magnus will be there if he can make it. Please. I want you to see this, what all this has been leading to.”

Anya frowned at that, and looked back over the dusty flat, crestfallen. “…If it’s that important, I’ll go. No need to try and drop any bait in the water.”

Oh. You thought she’d be more…enthusiastic about that attendance. “Is something the matter between you and him? Don’t have one of those dresses to grab his attention?”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.” Anya said, pointing, “Load up another shot and shoot up that one next to the box. Aim for that drive wheel, knock it right off.” You could make no promises about if you’d hit it. As you loaded another shell into the gun, Anya suddenly spoke up again. “he. I’m gonna ask somethin’ that might be weird.”

You looked up, and tilted your head, to motion her on. How weird could it really be? Especially since this was Anya, after all.

“You said your fiancée got shot. If she’s still around, you got lucky. What if that wasn’t the case? What if she got killed?”

You paused, only slowly pushing the shell into the breach. “I’d rather not think about that.”

“I know. But it happens. People get shot, people die. People important to us. Changes our lives. You came here in the first place to save her, didn’t you? What would happen if she’d bit the dust? If I got smoked out here, after all-“

“What brought about this fatalism?”

“We’re out here in the remains of a battlefield, Richter,” Anya said, “I’m not tryin’ to piss you off or nothin’. You can change the subject if you want.”

>?
Also-
>Roll 3 sets of 1d100, DC 20 roll under, to hit.
Also also-
>Ask about or talk about anything while you’re out here?
>Do anything else besides shoot at wrecks?
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>5296256
>?
If Maddalyn would have died then I don't think Richter would have went back. To Strossvald or military service in general. Even if the rest of the mission would have been a complete success, her death would be a stain to filthy to clean of the soul.
Could one really call themselves anything but a failure after such a fuck up? After coming so far, just to lose one's reason for so vigorously pressing forward?
I think not.
Self exile is the only option in such an event. And not the fun type Heller did.

>Ask about or talk about anything while you’re out here?
Anya's sister and her friends. Ask her about the details of hanging out with them and Anya's seeming unhealthy relationship with people of her own gender.
Talk about Hilda, Gerovic, finding Hilda a proper man and future gun training.
Ask what it would take for her and Maddalyn to be at least neutral with eachother.
Meet any cute guys recently?
Ask how she's been keeping busy, has she been keeping up with her work outs?
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5296256
>"I'd probably be real down for a while, not sure what I'd even do immediately afterwards. She was the entire reason I even came out here."

>Brag about shooting down a plane
>Tell more war stories that will definitely not do anything good to her desire to be back in a fight
>Offer her another job pushing papers for us, because she obviously loved it so much in Ellowie.
>>
>>5296269
I like all of these too
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>5296256
I agree with the above responses on the Maddalyn question. Listlessness, loss of direction, self-exile, the works.

And this guy >>5296272 on other conversational topics
>Brag about shooting down a plane
>Tell more war stories that will definitely not do anything good to her desire to be back in a fight
>Offer her another job pushing papers for us, because she obviously loved it so much in Ellowie.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5296256
>?
Wracked by guilt I suppose. If she hadn't been brought near the front I'd doubt she would have been kidnapped, plus she lost an eye thanks to Richter already.

>Ask about or talk about anything while you’re out here?

Supporting >>5296272
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5296256
If she died, I'd have you. If you died, I'd have her. If you both died, I'd have nothing.
>>
>>5296374
Damn anon
>>
>>5296374
A strong sentiment, but can't say I like or agree with the implications.
>>
>>5296374
If Maddy died you'd be a good backup is what I'm getting from this lmao
>>
>>5296256
>?
Man, imagine no Anya, no Maddy, stuck in Sosaldt in the middle of a revolution. Would going back even be an option at that point? The most positive scenario I can see is Richter working with the Iron Hogs to make them a Silver Lances 2.0 to the newly established Republic. The Richterbowl would certainly have been different, all bets are off at that point. Surely comfort would have been sought out somewhere, though Richter does have a penchant for alcohol and drugs, so things could have really turned down some darker roads.
>>
>>5296655
Richter becomes the male version of Signy and just as depressed lmao.
>>
>>5296666
>Punished Kommandant Quest
>>
>>5296269
>>5296272
>>5296283
The reason you even came here, gone. Any reason to go back, gone as well.

>>5296285
The final wrong, in a string of mistakes.

>>5296374
Really getting into that possessiveness there.

>>5296655
The possibility of turning into a strung out never-was addict.


On the bright side, you managed to hit the target. Writing.
>>
You hung on the gun rather than answering right away, or answering by shooting. You’d brought Maddalyn out of the tank to save Krause’s life- and you had, but what if she’d been shot in just a slightly different way? She was so small, and thin, she was not that far away from having been killed. Then she would have died- and Krause would have, as well. The whole personal drive behind going on that mission in the first place- gone, due to your own foolhardiness. Caused by it in part, as you insisted on taking Maddalyn south, where she had been abducted, out of the security of her home region.

“I’d have stayed in Sosaldt,” you said, peering through the gun scope again, looking at the sunset-dyed metal heaps in a new, theoretical context. Of a complete failure. “I wouldn’t have gone back to the Archduchy. Or back to the army. That stain of failure would be too much for me. I’d be lost. The only place fitting for such a dishonored fool would be these wastes. Who knows how long I’d linger, empty…”

“Oi.”

“Hm?” You turned your head to Anya, who lunged forward.

WHACK.

“Gah!” you recoiled as Anya slapped you across the face and sent your mask flying off down into the turret, “What the hell was that for?”

“I had to smack the retard out of you,” Anya shook her hand off like it had been wet and sat back sullenly, “Fuckin’ stupid. Somebody else dies so you decide to just die with them. You better not have that answer anymore, got it?”

“That’s not very fair,” you challenged back sorely, “What about when Hell died?”

“I went my own way, damnit,” Anya said crossly, “I have my sister, even if she’s a dumb bitch. I’ve seen your family, you wouldn’t have gone back to them? Fuck that. You’re better than that. You’d better be better than that. I wouldn’t have let that happen, not to his blood.”

“What?”

“Take the fuckin’ shot,” Anya threw her head up and to the side.

Fine. You looked down the gun scope again, made one last small adjustment, and fired without warning. Yet, something about that frustration either did something, or you were getting the tiniest bit better- the glow of the armor piercing shell’s bright burning rear shot out, and slapped into the target’s steel, just below the drive wheel.
>>
“…Huh,” you marveled at your own handiwork.

“Doesn’t count,” Anya said, “Didn’t hit the wheel.”

“It absolutely counts,” you protested, “Besides, I wasn’t aware this was a contest.”

“Y’want it t’ be?” Anya grinned at you. “Make it gambling? A bet?”

“It’d be completely unfair,” you said, “You’re better at shooting than I am.” For now.

“Then make the ante something that makes up the gap. Can even go for somethin’ scary, somethin’ t’ really get the blood runnin’. No pfenning-bet pussies allowed on my tank.”

>Accept the game of betting on who shoots better? (What do you bet, and what do you want if you win?)
>No, there was no need to make this a competition.

“I’m thinking about it,” you said as you dug in the ready rack for the next shell. “You wouldn’t let me do that though, you said? Leave me to my miserable exile?”

“Never. So if I get my guts blown out all over the place someday, you better remember that, right?”

That wasn’t pleasant to consider the possibility of either. “That won’t happen.” A pause, after you closed the breach on the shell. “So, your sister and her friends. Why don’t you get along? Do you not like her choice in company, or what they like to do? It seems like you have a problem with women.”

“I’m a woman,” Anya said, “How could I have a problem with them? They just act like cunts. Asking shit I don’t want to answer and thinking it’s funny. They don’t respect the shit I’ve done, what I’ve gone through. Say shit like how I ought to put on makeup to hide these scars, and then maybe I’d get a boyfriend. Just dumb shit. I don’t care that much that they’re friends with Alina, but they just don’t get me.”

Anya could certainly get a boyfriend with or without makeup. She was cute enough- something you thought regardless of how many people claimed she was ugly. “They’re definitely wrong about getting a boyfriend. Have you met anybody who’s caught your attention lately?”

Anya knelt down and looked through the scope, taking your former place in the gun seat, “Nah. It’s not that important to me to get hitched right away. I wanna keep goin’ on adventures. I figure I oughta wait for somebody I can’t stand not havin’. Then, when I find ‘em, I’ll take ‘em.” She frowned at herself, as though doubtful, suddenly. Not an expression you saw Anya hold towards her own words often. “Your gunner’s cute, I guess. I’d like it better if he had longer hair.”

“Really,” you said, passing a hand through your own. Anya leaned over and ran her fingers through your hair, too. “You get to do it to me, but not me to you?”
>>
“Shaddup,” Anya snapped, “You ought t’ grow it too. Even if it’s not like your uncle’s. Long and black. Just…so wild lookin’, so hot. You’ve got a scruffy head from your mom or somethin’. Grow it out so I can see what it’s like.”

“I’m already at the edge of army regulation as it is now,” you gave a soft rejection. For now. “When I want back and saw Hilda, she was doing alright. She’s having twins, apparently.”

“Twins? Damn,” Anya’s eyebrows raised, “Wonder if Crannick would’a been happy about that. Oh well. Not like that matters now. Your parents gonna keep her kids, then?”

“Hopefully we’ll be able to find her a husband,” you said, “I don’t know how we’re going to do that.”

“Find somebody who’s like you,” Anya said as though it were obvious.

“That might be easier said than done.” You couldn’t think of anybody you knew or trusted that was entirely like you, for better or worse. “She’s been getting some attention. From people I’d rather she not be seen by.”

“Like who?”

“Gerovic,” you said, “The Archduchy captured him and now he’s in their service. He’s been turned through…you know, the same thing I had done to me.”

“That fucked up your head?” Anya asked, though her eyes had turned to slits. “You know. If he’s a problem. I can just kill him.”

“…No, you can’t just kill him.”

“Yes I can. I will,” Anya said darkly, “I see him, I’ll shoot him dead on the spot.”

“He’s not our enemy anymore, though,” you said.

“…”

“He’s not worth the trouble,” you urged, “Don’t get yourself in trouble. For my sake and yours.”

“There won’t be any trouble as long as he doesn’t show his mug.”

You sighed, and gave the loaded cannon another look. Anya was paying attention to you instead of the gun. Might as well respect that. “So how can I get Maddalyn and you to be at least neutral with one another?”

“I don’t have a problem with her,” Anya said flatly, “Like I’ve told you. She’s the one who hates my guts. If she doesn’t treat me like a leper and start acting like a huge bitch then I won’t try and start shit.”

…Somehow, that sounded more difficult than if things were the other way around. “Your navel’s out again. So have you been able to do your training and workouts?”
>>
“Some,” Anya said, “But I’ve had to eat less. It sucks. I’m hungry all the damn time. If I could just move more it’d be fine, but all I can do right now is stuff with my legs. Sit ups.” She sighed an airy, high pitched sigh, “…What’ll you have me doin’, anyways. Besides watching you marry a shrimpy little rich girl.”

“I need a secretary,” you said, partly as a joke, partly not, “Do you want to push papers again?”

“Eat my ass,” Anya flexed the fingers of her cast arm, “How much typing do you think I can do right now?”

“I do need competent assistance, though. I’ll be commanding a demi-battalion for the Von Blums.”

Anya knew what you were talking about, somehow, as far as what that entailed. “Then make me your executive. Your number two.”

“I can’t make a non-commissioned officer my executive officer,” you retorted.

“Your Senior Enlisted then. Command Sergeant Major. Can’t you get that? It’s your unit, for the family you’re marrying into. Who cares what anybody thinks.”

It wouldn’t look proper, but you could at least lean into it to make it happen. To make her an XO or even a platoon commander, you’d have to send your retinue to an Officer’s Academy for a year, to take the Accelerated NCO Training Courses. It wasn’t a decision to take lightly.

>Tell her that she can be your XO if she goes to school for a year. That’s the minimum requirement for a commission.
>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.
>Say that you need her as a platoon leader. Which means a commission. Which means a year in accelerated courses.
>Tell Anya that, as your retinue, she needn’t worry about petty things like command hierarchy or position. She would continue to act in your name, even if it was unofficial.
>Other?

She already knows you shot down a plane, and the war stories will come later. Also, yes, the beer and moonshine are in the tank.
>>
>>5297373
>>No, there was no need to make this a competition.

>>5297377
>>Tell her that she can be your XO if she goes to school for a year. That’s the minimum requirement for a commission.
>>
>>5297373
>No, there was no need to make this a competition.

>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.

We'll have plenty of competent officers, Anya can be our liason with the rank and file. Having someone with their finger on the pulse of the common soldiery would be useful.
>>
>>5297373
>Accept the game of betting on who shoots better? (What do you bet, and what do you want if you win?)
What do you want and what do you got?

>>5297377
>Say that you need her as a platoon leader. Which means a commission. Which means a year in accelerated courses.
>>
>>5297377
>Accept the game of betting on who shoots better? (What do you bet, and what do you want if you win?)
Part of me wants to gamble something funner and much, much more lewd but I feel this is what we need right now.

Gamble an adventure. It may not be comparable to what I want in exchange so I'll leave that more up to her.

You want something scary? I want Smitty to move to the Blumlands for a time and work on my tanks. I'm betting you a goddamn *Quest* Anya. Wouldn't have to be permanent, but if anyone knows what buttons to push and favors to ask it'd to get it done it would be Anya.

>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.
It's already murky with the Retinue angle but at least there she gets more freedom even if she won't get to really take charge of large numbers.
>>Other?
Genuinely ask her. While I think she is plenty good to command after her service both as Blind and in Ellowie she doesn't have the temperament off the battlefield. Especially in a very strict male hierarchal system such as Strossvald.

Explain to her the shit she'd have to put up with in the Academy, the people she wouldn't be allowed to hit or scream back at. Could she boil for an entire year? Even if it gave her the chance to prove them wrong and make her space in Strossvald? I don't think she wants it bad enough.
>>
>>5297373
>No, there was no need to make this a competition.

>>5297377
>Tell her that she can be your XO if she goes to school for a year. That’s the minimum requirement for a commission.
WE'RE SENDING OUR GIRL TO COLEG!
>>
>>5297377
>No, there was no need to make this a competition.
>Tell her that she can be your XO if she goes to school for a year. That’s the minimum requirement for a commission.
Frankly, I'm surprised the academy takes women. Don't think we've seen any female Strossvald officers around. Though I suppose we've heard of Von Tract women soldier ancestors.
>>
Oh, the academy might also be a place to find her a partner. Probably not among the higher nobles, but maybe she finds attraction in one of the lower nobles that tend to be more down-to-earth. If tanq ever lets us successfully get another character in a loving relationship that is, maybe even one where they are at least attracted to each other.
>>
>>5297377
>>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.
I think she is best suited to this position and anyone who thinks it's weird will be taught otherwise by her performance.
>>
>>5297373
>>Accept the game of betting on who shoots better? (What do you bet, and what do you want if you win?)
I like our win condition from >>5297548, someone who has really been in the weeds of tank work would probably have a lot to share back in Strossvald. I'm not so sure about the general adventure for Anya, maybe it would have to come more as we would cover for her if she wanted to take an extended leave from her duties as the
>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.
I think XO may be a bad idea just with how much Anya is know to like getting in fights, whether in tanks or otherwise, and how she generally wants her freedom to still do things she wants to do personally. It will be a lot harder to get another XO than it will be to find another temporary toon leader if Anya wants some space from the army for a bit.
>>
>>5297377
>No, there was no need to make this a competition.
>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.

Pretty sure Anya would rather have hands on role rather than management. For XO someone like Rondo would be a better fit.
>>
>>5297377
>Accept the game of betting on who shoots better?
If we lose, we'll get her a date with Stein and something else of her chosing (that alone doesn't fell like enough compensation to me). If we win, she has to convince Smitty to come home for a while and collaborate with the Von Blum tank workshop.
>Senior Enlisted. Fine. She’d probably fit there best anyways, with how much trouble she liked to cause.
>>
>>5297641
She's already a capable tanker and leader, and going to the academy will only make her better. I'd much rather her than whatever political appointment we'd get instead.
>>
>>5297681
I definitely don't disagree, I just want to make sure Anya knows what she is getting in to with the XO position. She will have to play by Archduchy rules at least a little bit, unless maybe she would accept us bulldozing as many regulations and obligations to the best of our ability to be her stake in the bet which is a possibility I suppose.
>>
>>5297701
Well, then I think the concern would be finding a way to get her to follow the regulations, or talking to her about it or something. Just going with the ">Senior Enlisted" vote will mean that she will not get the XO position and we likely get a political appointment instead.
>>
>>5297712
>>5297701

Eh, I think we can probably appoint someone like Metzeler or Krause to be our XO if needed. Even if we get an 'outsider' so to speak it's a bit hypocritical to be worrying about a political appointee when Richter is one himself. I frankly doubt the Von Blums would dump people whom solely rely on their connections into our unit anyway.
>>
>>5297735
We are a political appointment, but we have experience and renown. It makes sense we are where we are. And I'm not really sure we could get Metzeler or Krause, they both seem to be in different areas.
>>
>>5297743
And by that same logic, whomever we might get even if it's partially or majorly politically motivated doesn't mean that they're going to be incompetent either.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5297384
>>5297388
>>5297556
>>5297614
Nyet

>>5297395
>>5297548
>>5297641
>>5297678
Ja

Well, gonna have to roll that one off. 1 for no bet, 2 for a bet. That you still have to win.

>>5297548
What is this hidden suggestion, anon. I won't judge. Though everybody else might.

>>5297395
Platoon Leader, for the odd one out.

>>5297384
>>5297556
>>5297614
XO- your right hand. Just about as abused, at least, though not nearly as well acquainted with your privates

>>5297388
>>5297548
>>5297622
>>5297641
>>5297669
>>5297678
Senior Enlisted. Less controversial- a position to do dirty work and advise both.

Writing.

>>5297614
>Frankly, I'm surprised the academy takes women. Don't think we've seen any female Strossvald officers around. Though I suppose we've heard of Von Tract women soldier ancestors.
Normally, they don't- but exceptions are made for class. Does the daughter of a territorial lord want to have a place in the local structure? They can get in. Does somebody of relative importance have a favored female retinue that they want to go through things? Then they have a space. The politics and class have a weight that can offset the societal norm. This happening is rare, though. Most female retinue remain non-commissioned, and the Von Trachts aren't an exception.
Though for them in particular it's partially because few of them survived long enough.
>>
>>5297758
No, it doesn't, but they're much more likely to be incompetent, especially in comparison to Anya.
>>
>>5297989
And why are you so sure in the first place that
1. That person is going to be a political appointee and
2. The person has a strong chance of being incompetent?
>>
>>5297993
I guess we don't have a ton of reason to suspect political appointees, but most political appointees are incompetent because they were chosen for the position because of politics rather than merit. There are exceptions, but I would normally expect someone chosen by merit to be a stronger choice.
>>
>>5297998
Fair enough on the second point, I just disagree that our father-in-law would dump that kind of person on us.
>>
>>5298002
That's exactly what he would do, to monitor us.
>>
>>5297857
Damn.

F
>>
“…What would you prefer?” You asked first, though you had a solid idea of what would be best, “Becoming an executive officer at the bare minimum requires an officer’s commission, and the fastest way you could get that is by going to a military academy in Strossvald and taking the Accelerated NCO Officer Training courses, which takes about a year. During that time, you’ll be around mostly men, and nobility.” Almost exclusively men. Infrequently, the daughters of martially inclined lords went to military academy, but they rarely were destined to serve anywhere but in their own territories anyways. More importantly, Anya was no noble. She wasn’t even of a respectable class. She was the bastard daughter of a prostitute, and if anybody found that out… “You’d need to control yourself. You can’t hit anybody, shout at anybody, you just have to take what comes at you. Can you do that for a year, and prove anybody who doubts you wrong?”

“’Course I can,” Anya said with a snort, “…What, don’t I have the right to wear a medal in Strossvald now? Who’d screw with me and not expect to get socked?”

“I don’t want you to be isolated and surrounded by powerful enemies, Anya,” you said, “I don’t doubt you could do the work, but…anyways. I thought you’d be happier with Command Sergeant Major instead. The Executive Officer has to do a lot of administrative work. The Senior Enlisted gets more freedom, works more in the field. You’re not impartial to that now, are you?”

Anya tipped her chin down and pouted. “Well, I ain’t just gonna do it ‘cause it’s easier. What if I went to the academy anyways?”

“…I don’t see the point in that if you’re to be my senior enlisted. I didn’t mean it as a challenge.”

“Fine,” Anya rolled her eyes and puffed out her chest, “Speakin’ of challenges…you wanna roll those dice on this gunnery match?”

You had to think about that, and rested your head on your knuckles. There was something you wanted from Anya, but…what would she think was a fair exchange? You had a few ideas, but ultimately…

“…No, let’s just do this for fun,” you said, “I’ve had enough betting on whether a gun hits a target or not for a while.”

Anya blinked. “That didn’t seem like an easy answer. What were you thinkin’ about?”

“I was going to make you drag Stein’s sister with the Iron Hogs back to the Blumlands with us,” you said, “And if I lost instead…I don’t know, maybe I would set you up on a date with my gunner or something. Or maybe some special adventure just for you.”
>>
Anya wrinkled her nose at you. “Pfeh. Nah. I said your gunner was cute, he’s not my type, though. I’m not that shallow, looks aren’t everything. I’d date him to steal dinner, not to suck him off.” She grasped onto the turret’s manual turn crank, then looked down at the shawl at the same time as the crank. “Oh…fucking shit. Damn it…”

“What?”

Anya sat back up and examined the shawl closer. “Fuckin’ stupid-ass…I got grease and dust and shit all over this…” She seemed…actually distressed. “Fuck.”

“It’s alright,” you said, picking at a corner to look closer, “It can be washed. It’s white, so it can be bleached if something doesn’t come off.” At least, that’s how you thought it might be. You weren’t an expert on cleaning different fabrics.

“I hope so,” Anya murmured as she undid the neck and shuffled the shawl off. “It’s not that chilly, at least,” she tossed the shawl towards you. “There’s a metal box at the bottom behind the radio operator’s seat for effects, put that down there.”

Down it went- and you didn’t peep in the box, much as you were tempted to, as it was already occupied. Though you thought you might have seen a photo in a rough steel frame…a large group of some sort.

“Pick the target, then,” Anya said.

“…I want to look for something, actually,” you said, “I remember there being an m/28-13 type in this battle somewhere. It had distinctive paint on the turret.”
>>
File: tcqscene203.png (1.97 MB, 1100x1254)
1.97 MB
1.97 MB PNG
“The one with the tits?” That certainly was the most distinctive one. You nodded. Anya smirked at you. “Hey, I thought those ones were too big for your taste.”

“It’s not a matter of what my taste is,” you said. After all, a set that fit your tastes happened to be right here in this tank. “I just want to show you around the battle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anya leaned against the turret, one arm lazily cast on the edge, “Pick one here first. I want to fuck up the rest of what’s here first.”

“Alright. That one with the small turret. I want to see if you can tear off enough of it to make it fall off.”

-----

As you drove on to the next set of tanks, you told Anya about what had gone on with the unit since she’d been wounded and forced to depart from the front.

“When we crossed up into Ellowie,” you said, “The Netillian Militarists were in disarray. In full retreat, and we were chasing them down, though they didn’t make it easy. They knew their turf, and were biding their time for a proper counterattack. Though the Netillian Republicans foiled their plans for that before they could attack us, or the Republic troops. They did let the Ellowians bear the brunt of the counteroffensive, though.” You thought of who had related the plans of such to you. “Oh, right. I saw Magnus. He was alive and well. He told me of the plans, right after I had dealt with one of the Netillian tank aces. A man called Crown Taker.”

“Decent name,” Anya said, though she had tried to interrupt when you mentioned the knight. “…You went after an ace? Not by yourself, you’d better not have.”

“I went with my platoon,” you said, “…It wasn’t quite enough. My platoon leader, Vehrlors, he and the ace killed each other in the duel. I was hoping I’d take out Crown Taker, but…he was the one who wanted that man’s head more, anyways.”

“Then he got what he wanted,” Anya said plainly, “Don’t feel too sad about it. That’s a good way to go. That’s how I’d want to go.”

“Hopefully not before you get married and have some children.”

“Whatever.” Anya said in a tone that told you she wasn’t thinking of prioritizing that over a dramatic end. “Tell me how- Hey, I see the tank. Half right, head one fifty meters, we’ll have a good position on it.”

“Roger,” you said, and changed course. “How the duel went?”

“Yeah. You didn’t find him, huh.”

“I fought with his apprentice, or his partner, or something,” you said, “He was good too. Had a heavy tank of a type I’d only run from before. I probably only won because I had the help of Planckner.”

“Who?”

“A republic tank commander,” you said, then frowned, “You don’t remember him? He was in your platoon the day we met. He said you two had a date.” One where Anya had merely bummed dinner off of him before leaving him in the dust.
>>
“Oh, that guy,” Anya said, “He didn’t seem that good when I knew him.”

“Anyways, we…maybe I ought to tell this from the beginning. I’m all over the place.”

So you told the whole thing, gradually, after you got up to a vantage point and picked out targets, interrupting the tale with cannon blasts every so often. Eventually, you finally got to the end, where Magnus descended on an autogyro to meet with you and the platoon.

“He wanted to know how you were doing,” you said, “And where your hometown was. I think he might have intended on visiting.” Anya bit her lip and glowered at the horizon, before suddenly leaning for the gun and firing it off. It was a missed shot, but you doubted she had a target, anyways, as you recoiled in surprise, covering your ears. “Would you not do that?” you demanded.

“Psh.” Anya sat back again, “That war up north’s still going on, isn’t it.”

“Last that I heard, yes. I can’t imagine it going on much longer.”

Anya said nothing to that. “Hey, load another shot. And get another couple bottles of that beer.”

You passed her the beer first, after you’d gotten it from down in the hull. “You know,” you said, “I’ve been thinking, now that my time…well, my first time, at least, with the Silver Lances is over. I want to write a book. Compile theory based off what I’ve learned, and research on what I’ve forgotten. To make something that matters, so people can learn from me in some other way than those smut books.”

“Hm,” Anya grunted as she opened the bottle on the rim of the turret and took a long, heavy pull. “Y’want help?”

“I certainly wouldn’t turn it down,” you said, “Especially since you know of more…unorthodox tank tactics. I want to write this book to provide an alternative. A better one, to the present Archduchy theory of the Battle Line.”

“Might help if I go to that Academy to learn about that, then.”

Still on that, was she? “You’d have to wear the Academy Uniform precisely as required.”

“Betcha you’d give me special permission to wear it a good way,” Anya teased as she pointed the half empty beer’s top at you, before touching it to her lips again, then taking it away with a solemn look in her eyes. “Hey, I didn’t say, but…thanks for not dying out there. I…really appreciate it.”

“I don’t break my promises,” you said, with an allowance of pride.

“Anyways. Load up that cannon again.”

“We don’t have many shots left,” you said as you knelt down, “Only eight left.”

“Then we’ll ram ‘em once we’re out.”

>Tell Anya about anything else that’s happened?
Also-
>Do anything else while you’re out?
>Head back and turn in for the night. Next morning you had to be up early to get back as soon as possible.
>Other?
>>
>>5298841
>Head back and turn in for the night. Next morning you had to be up early to get back as soon as possible.
>>
>>5298841
Hot damn Anya, who are you dressing to impress?

>Head back and turn in for the night. Next morning you had to be up early to get back as soon as possible.
Get Anya to say goodbye to her sister before we go
Ask if she'd like to meet Richter's dad one of these days and swap stories about Hell Gitt.

Lewd bet would've just been another game of Vier-Sechs(?). Strip Vier-Sechs.
>>
>>5298841
>Head back and turn in for the night. Next morning you had to be up early to get back as soon as possible.
>>
>>5298841
>>Head back and turn in for the night. Next morning you had to be up early to get back as soon as possible.
>>
>>5298836
>She really wanted to go to the academy and didn't mind the paper pushing position
>We didn't care and shut her down and put her in a worse position that is less helpful to us
You did it anons, great job. You got us a less capable XO but at least you were very considerate for what Anya wanted. Oh wait.

>>5298841
>Head back and turn in for the night. Next morning you had to be up early to get back as soon as possible.
So it still sounds like Anya's partial to going to the academy. Can we vote for her to go still? Or are people dead set on her not going?
>>
>>5299058
We didn't forbid her from going to the academy, did we?
>>
>>5299074
We did according to the recent update. I would very much like her to go, myself.
>>
>>5299077
I'm all for the Misfit of the Tank Officer Academy storyline.
>>
>>5298851
>>5298900
>>5298971
>>5298977
>>5299058
Head on back. Hope for a guest bed.
Nah you're going on the floor.
Make sure familial relations remain in a decent state.

Writing.

>>5299058
>Can we vote for her to go still? Or are people dead set on her not going?
I can put another one up, though sending her off for a year to a program meant to turn capable enlisted into commissioned officers (albeit at nobility dominated institutions) only to have her come right back into an enlisted position anyways is a tad odd from a practical standpoint.
Though it does mean that a commissioned position is qualified for in the future, should one be desired then.
>>
>>5299058
I for one do not want her to go off to the academy, if only for the fact that if she does then she won't be helping us in the Blumlands, the whole reason we went to go get her. Her expertise in tank tactics and value with the rank and file is way more helpful than dubious utility in class politics. She'll be miserable for an entire year sucking up to bluebloods, I don't want her to be miserable.

Besides she already said she wants to keep adventuring if she wasn't with us. Why would she stick in Strossvald otherwise? Become an officer in their army?
>>
>>5299452
Her expertise is precisely why I want her to go to the academy. Her ability to be our XO will help us much more than her being a Senior Enlisted, it has nothing to do with class politics. If anything, this would hurt our class politics, since we have a commoner in a command position.
>>
In the end, you both went back with the tank after you had four shots left. Just in case- because Anya agreed with you that tempting a fate where you actually needed ammunition for the 4.7 centimeter cannon was not worth further pummeling wrecked vehicles that had already been thoroughly and redundantly perforated. It wasn’t quite dark when you returned, but the sun had almost vanished, and Lark’s new gas light infrastructure was putting in good work in regards to allowing you to even attempt to navigate a tank through a town at night.

“Alina isn’t back yet,” Anya said with a disgruntled huff after the tank was turned off, watching you close the doors of the makeshift garage again to lock everything up. “Guess it’s canned hash for dinner.”

“You at least have a stove, don’t you?” You asked- this cottage was humble, but it was hardly a lean-to shanty town hovel.

“’Course. This is a house, not an Hourglass den,” Anya said, with a wave of her free hand, “Get that shawl for me, will you? I’ll go start the thing.”

The “thing” was an old but well maintained wood stove, with a pipe out the top of the home. Hardly a fireplace, and rather small, but it would warm the room, at least. A few candles were lit, and Anya was squatted in front of the oven arranging tinder when you came with the clothing that your driver had gifted her.

“Set it on top a’ somethin’,” Anya said without looking, “Just not somewhere any ash or shit’ll get on it.”

The table nearby with a pair of plain wooden chairs with small cushions on them would do, you thought. Though something was already set on top of it- and you squinted skeptically at it. “I thought you hated the movie of the other one.” It was the second book in the series- Brutality and Beauty-Second Dream.

“My sister and her friends are reading that bunch,” Anya said, “She lent me it. Talks about how her and I know the real person.”

“What did you tell them?” you asked warily.

“I didn’t wanna talk about you with ‘em,” Anya said flatly, “Like I said. They don’t get it.”

“Who is this supposed to be, anyways?” You pointed to the warrior woman on the cover, “I know who the other two are supposed to be, of the books I’ve seen. I don’t know who this is.”

“Oh, her,” Anya looked back over her shoulder, “Uh…I don’t think she was a real person. I knew somebody with the same name as she’s got in that book, but she got killed when all the shit went down in Todesfelsen. Not my friend or anything. Broad named Rosa that got her head blown off. I think the writer mixed her with one of the leaders who went out to fight you, whose tank we probably shot the shit out of.”
>>
“I see.” Your interest in the book was much less, considering that this was a fictionalization within a fiction, of somebody you wouldn’t have even known. “Do you want to meet with my father again, when we head back?” Not that you’d be leaving Anya there- Gerovic was hanging around with Hilda, and Anya had made it very clear that she intended to shoot him on sight- wherever she was hiding any of various weapons. You’d learned well in Ellowie that Anya was never unarmed. “Talk about Heller with him some, at least? Just along the way.”

“…Sure,” Anya said hesitantly, “Yeah. That’d be cool. See if he’s…got anything of his I can have. Hell’s dead. I’m over that. It’d just be nice, y’know.”

She wasn’t that enthusiastic, but maybe she was just tired, you considered as you sat on a stool and watched Anya carve open a can of diced meat and potatoes- it had colorful labeling like it had come from a city market, and you wondered just how far it had wandered- and pour into a cast iron pan before setting it atop the flame. Anya didn’t know how to cook, but anybody could heat meat and potatoes. Well. Anybody that didn’t think a flame was some sort of sorcery, at least.

“Something else,” you said, “When we were talking about the appointment you wanted…even if you aren’t the executive officer, did you still want to attend the academy? You don’t have to take a commission.” Even if there was very little reason not to. “I don’t want to be in your way if you really want to go there.”

“Will you be good if I do that?” Anya asked you coolly, “A year, you said. Are you fine with me being away for a year?” She tapped on her cast arm with a finger, “I won’t be able to fight for a while. The surgeons your guys had that put me back together, they said this’ll take a year, maybe, to heal up all the way. I don’t want t’ sit around and do nothin’ for all of that. If goin’ to school makes me better without havin’ to be dragged away from a fight, I’ll…try to make it work. I’ll probably get into fights, I can’t help it, but I’ll try. But.” She pointed subtly, “That’s only if you think you can do without me for a year. Which I don’t know. I’d like t’ go, Richter. But it’s not more important to me than keeping you from getting the other half of your face knocked off. Got it?”

“I can do fine,” you said, “There’s no combat operations planned in the short term.”

“You know what I mean.” Anya said stonily.

The door opened then, and you heard Alina’s voice call. “Anya? Are you here?”

“Yeah!” Anya called back, “I’ve got Fairy Boy here stayin’ the night.”
>>
Alina’s accent was different from Anya’s, you had to note upon hearing them call to each other, though you imagined that that was because Anya tried to speak like Hell…unless there was somebody else with a Strosstadt accent in her life. Anya’s younger sister came around, wearing a light coat and a long dress, a handbag at her side and her hair braided in the back. She took off the jacket, and under it she had a top much like Anya was wearing- though it showed no stomach, and was green. Anya had presumably modified hers.

“You should have told me you’d have friends over, Anya,” Alina said as she laid her jacket over the chair opposite of you. “Hello, Richter,” she said to you with a smile, “Look at you, you have Anya trying to cook for you.”

“He certainly can’t do it himself,” Anya said without looking.

“I came here to pick her up,” you said, “I need my retinue to come back. She’s just too useful for me to leave here.” As well as this place being too idle.

Alina’s smile faded a little, but she closed her eyes and kept it up. “I suppose it was going to happen sometime, but Anya, you haven’t been home very long at all…”

“It’s been about three weeks,” Anya said, “You’re lucky I haven’t gotten into trouble.”

“About that,” Alina’s tone shifted, “The patrol soldiers here said that you went out with your machine and shot its cannon about. It caused some alarm. They asked you not to do it again.”

“Wish granted,” Anya said, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Don’t break the door in your hurry to go…” Alina grumbled sorely, before looking back to you. “How have you been?”

“I’m alive,” you said, “Our part in the fighting up north has ended, so the Silver Lances all went home.”

“Is Stevan doing well?” Alina asked.

“I haven’t checked,” you admitted.

“Well, next you see him, will you give him a letter?” Alina asked, “I understand that he’s not in a state to visit, surely, but whenever he recovers, I’d like to have him over here.”

“Not you over there?” You asked.

Alina shook her head. “I want to stay here, even if what he talked about of the Archduchy sounds fascinating. Lark is my home.” She sat down in the chair she had been standing by, “So where will you be taking Anya, then? Far away?”

“Not right off,” you said, “I’m getting married in a few weeks, and then I’m to take charge of a new unit that’s being formed by my wife to be’s family, in the territory of the Blumlands. We’ll be staying out of any fighting for a good bit.”

“Well, good. Anya’s in no state to fight, no matter what she might say.”

“Bite me,” Anya snapped from by the stove.

“What do you think of her outfit?” Alina asked quietly, “A few adjustments had to be made for her, but, it feels nice for us to match like this.”
>>
You reserved any comment about fashion for now. “There’s something else,” you said, “I’ve been mulling over sending Anya to a military academy, so that she can have the option of taking an officer’s position. They’re paid handsomely, in Strossvald, and she can take a year-long program to get her an easy road to it, given her experience and her status as a retinue.”

“I think she should do it,” Alina said, as she reached for a small pot on the table. “Do you like herbal tea? This one has ginger in it, I’m fond of it, and Anya will have it if it’s got enough honey in it.”

“We’re out of that,” Anya said.

“I got more.” Alina said back, “it’s been much easier lately, with how much money she’s come into.”

“Way easier since you actually take it.”

Alina glanced a scathing half-lidded glare. “She should go to that school, though. It’d be the best for her. Maybe enough time spent learning will make her think about things besides going and getting shot up. Maybe she’ll even find a man…and I can stop worrying after her.”

It was a safe future investment…but you weren’t sure that was what Anya wanted out of this. Her concern was more over if you would be fine with keeping her away for that long…

>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.
>Was it selfish to keep Anya to yourself? Maybe a little. But she didn’t need to be stuck in classrooms for a year to be useful to you. She was as good as you could ask for just the way she was.
>Other?
Also, of course, if you want to talk about anything with the sister, she’s right there.
>>
>>5299457
Help us when? A year from now? Anon we might be fighting giraffe ghosts in Caelus a year from now. In the event we will need her help she won't be available for it. especially since the Next Big One seems just around the corner
Her ability as XO just allows her to command the demi-battalion in case we bite it. We already have perfectly capable officers we can rely on if we need them. This just seems like a way to get rid of Anya for awhile.
>>
>>5299572
>>Was it selfish to keep Anya to yourself? Maybe a little. But she didn’t need to be stuck in classrooms for a year to be useful to you. She was as good as you could ask for just the way she was.
>>
>>5299572
>>Was it selfish to keep Anya to yourself? Maybe a little. But she didn’t need to be stuck in classrooms for a year to be useful to you. She was as good as you could ask for just the way she was.
>Other?
Ask Alina what word from the Republic is about the war and how stable the nation seems. Is there lots of enthusiasm? If there's lots of civic participation that would be a good sign.
>>
File: rounded face.png (4.6 MB, 3296x1240)
4.6 MB
4.6 MB PNG
>>5299572
>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.

>>5298840
tanq, great job as always. Here's something else I noticed. You usually draw more of the side of the face the nose is pointing to rather than the other way around. If you switched this, the drawings should have a more realistic look.
>>
>>5299572
>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.
She is out of action with that broken arm. She will probably throw herself at anything. It will also give a nice reality check to the people enrolling in the military academy.
>>
>>5299573
>Help us when? A year from now?
Yes, a year from now. Things are looking rather peaceful actually in the short time.

>Anon we might be fighting giraffe ghosts in Caelus a year from now.
That is rather the point, yes. This will allow us to have her by our side in the most effective manner when Caelus presumably comes in force perhaps a year from now.
>In the event we will need her help she won't be available for it.
I guess, but I don't find it super likely we will in less than a year.

>Her ability as XO just allows her to command the demi-battalion in case we bite it.
And also in our absence for any number of potential reasons, which is important. But it's also not all that being XO does, it puts her in a position of more responsibility and more use to us.

>We already have perfectly capable officers we can rely on if we need them.
Not necessarily, we don't know for sure any of our officers yet.

>This just seems like a way to get rid of Anya for awhile.
It's an investment into making Anya not only more capable, but also closer to us and higher up in command. There's also the point that she won't be super useful for nearly a year anyways, and this takes advantage of that time well where otherwise she might be sitting around doing nothing, or at least something of much less value.

>>5299572
>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.
>>
>>5299572

>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.
Personally, I want Anya to get an education!
>>
>>5299572
>>Was it selfish to keep Anya to yourself? Maybe a little. But she didn’t need to be stuck in classrooms for a year to be useful to you. She was as good as you could ask for just the way she was.
I don't think Anya would actually enjoy being at the academy, I think she would just get frustrated by the academic aspect of it and all the snotty nobility. Plus I would much rather have her as a senior NCO than as an officer. The XO creates plans for the unit but it's the senior NCO that makes sure the unit actually executes the plans and keeps it from falling apart in the field. The former position can be filled by any newly graduated officer with half a brain in his head, but the latter requires someone with guts and experience. I just don't see the point of sending her away for a year to have her do the job she's less suited for.
>>
>>5299572
>Was it selfish to keep Anya to yourself? Maybe a little. But she didn’t need to be stuck in classrooms for a year to be useful to you. She was as good as you could ask for just the way she was.

>>5299699
This basically, in my view the SNCO role is actually harder to fill than the XO one considering the usual profile of members in that role (i.e. people with plenty of years in service).

There's plenty of officers that can do the job as a second in command, how many enlisted people do we know and trust that can fill the unit Sergeant Major role? Just because it's not an officer position doesn't make it somehow unimportant, you need both good officers and NCOs to run a unit well.
>>
>>5299727
Even if we're to believe we'd rather have her as SNCO, there is still the value in giving her the academy training, and productively using her time for the 1 year she is out of service. She will come out better equipped to serve under us, in whatever capacity that may entail, and won't be able to do much for us before then anyways.
>>
>>5299740

....We're going to productively use her time by having her actively involved with the unit's development from the get-go? Just because she's down an arm doesn't mean she can't teach or advise, as well as get to know the people in the battalion.
>>
>>5299748
I hadn't thought of that. Well I will certainly feel much better about this vote going the other way, but I still very much value the education of the academy.
>>
>>5299765
I'm not *opposed* to Anya getting an education in general even if it's not at the academy. Richter has plenty of shit he needs to relearn post-Trance as well so they can be study buddies.
>>
>>5299572
>Was it selfish to keep Anya to yourself? Maybe a little. But she didn’t need to be stuck in classrooms for a year to be useful to you. She was as good as you could ask for just the way she was.

I don't think we even have a year before the Major sends us out again with so much happening on the continent, and I'd rather have Anya around for that.
>>
>>5299572
>>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.
>>
>>5299572
>It was for the better, and everybody seemed to want it to happen. Why not? Your retinue would be getting an official education, then.
I think both options have their merits, but I think I want Anya recovering safely more than I want her available to help out with mission shit. Having her around would be nice but I don't want to have to worry about her either.
>>
>>5299575
>>5299586
>>5299699
>>5299727
>>5299821
Selfish? Maybe. Yet you need her.

>>5299595
>>5299609
>>5299617
>>5299622
>>5299828
>>5299955
Send Anya to college. Her mother would be so proud. And her father. Either one.
Maybe she'll come back and show you her cadet uniform.

Writing. This was more contentious than I expected, frankly. Good thing there's a time skip planned because a year is longer than what's even passed from the start of the quest, Christ.

>>5299595
Of course. It's something I feel I need to compensate for with Anya in particular, because she does have a very round face.
I appreciate it, but also, you don't have to butter me up for me to accept criticism. If it doesn't look great you don't need to say great job, just saying. I can take a few knocks on the chin when it's deserved.
>>
>>5300073
From the Academy to Major within a year, imagine the scenes at the class reunion.
>>
>>5300073
you don't really get many people actually drawing characters here, especially to the quality that you do; I don't think it's really a stretch to say that you're doing a great job with it, even if there are things to improve on.
>>
>>5300073
It's nothing against you. Sometimes when criticism is given, it's not always taken well.
There was this one qm who draws men like women and women like men and when people called him out on it, he got pissed, passively-aggressively addressing the concerns in a round about manner, and stopped running. I'm not sure what his problem was, since he never bothered finishing a quest anyways, but loved starting them. To be fair. he did finish a "chapter" of a quest.
>>
You had to stare at the glow of a candle creeping over the table, instead of answering right away, because it wasn’t an easy decision. For you, not for your retinue- you had no doubt that, if she really wanted to do something, she’d just go and do it without heed for your whims, but there was an understanding that she wasn’t sure, either- which was why you were allowed this choice.

A large part wanted to keep Anya to yourself. Was it selfish? A little. Yet you could very well be out on another assignment or mission before the year in school was up, and that would be time where you didn’t have your very valuable friend. Your most trusted confidant. There was nothing wrong with an Anya who didn’t go to a military academy for a year, in your view. Her arm might have been broken, but you didn’t need her to fight herself. Her head was full of knowledge and experience that hardly needed to be taught to her, and she could have had both arms broken and still had that.

Yet. Wasn’t it better for Anya, if not you? Academies were politically and mentally straining, but not physically so. It was a safe place for her to heal, while still keeping her on her feet and her mind active. No longer some retinue from the wastes, nobody could deny that she was a capable officer once she graduated from even the NCO Accelerated Training Course- and you were confident she could. Everybody else seemed to want it…so why not you?

“…I agree,” you concluded, “It won’t be difficult to get a school to take her. She is a retinue of a Silver Lance and holder of a Silver Shield of Roland. The fees will be waived through recognition of potential from an enlisted. If Anya wants to go, I’ll be able to last long enough for her to finish that. As well as let her heal.”

Alina smiled in relief at you. “Thank you. I know Anya doesn’t think much of my opinion on this, but she shouldn’t be looking for a fight all the time, and…I mean, you are a soldier.”

So you were bad for her? “There’s not much downside to it. Besides that I’d rather have her around, but I can stand it for that long. If it’s for her benefit.”

Anya said nothing, only staring into the fire.

“If you are staying here though,” you asked, looking back at Alina- her face a match for your retinue’s save for the scars and eye color- and the glint of ferocity beneath, the dullness around the edges from war. “What has been said locally about the war? How is the Republic compared to what was before? Are people happy to be part of it, working for its future?”
>>
The brunette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t talk to people about the war. I don’t like hearing about it much, with what I’ve seen it makes.” She had been a nurse in rear line field clinics. She hadn’t seemed to have minded it much- but she also seemed a very caring and considerate sort, and maybe acting gloomy would have had an effect on her patients. “All that’s ever talked about is how we win. I don’t know how much of that is true. Everything else, though…it’s better. So much better. Some people say the only thing that’s changed is that the armed goons around wear a different uniform, but there’s more goods moving around, money everywhere. It’s all moving so fast, and everywhere, that it’s hard to see where it’s going…but everybody thinks it’s all going up. Crimes that are reported to the authorities are acted on quickly, and the roads are patrolled frequently. One of my friends got a loan from one of the three banks that have come up, very easily. I’m just concerned that the good times and all the money are as true as the talk of victories…”

“From what I saw up there, at least, the worst of the war for the Republic is over,” you said. Things sounded good- yet Alina was wary. The sound of money everywhere when, as far as you knew, the Republic used Sosaldt’s prior lack of standard currency, besides the widely accepted East Valsten Union Mark, a wide bronze coin about one and one half fingers wide. “If times are this good and you have a home…”

“I should find a husband, you say?” Alina winked slyly, “Don’t worry, I’m ahead of that. Which is why my sister needs to find one too. It’s unfashionable these days to be single, you know.”
Was it ever? Surely she meant relatively.

Supper was ready soon after- though Alina went to get a few other things so it wasn’t just canned cubed beef and potatoes and onions. You got up from your chair, for your part, and Anya sat in it. Whether it was because she recognized being injured or because she had any familiarity that a man should not sit and make a lady stand, you couldn’t be sure of. Just that nobody was going to be sitting in anybody’s lap here.

Alina returned with herbs- milk, and proper dishware, scolding Anya for thinking you’d just be eating out of a pan. It was cheap and crude stuff, but you wondered if it was even something many might have had ready access to before, when the procession of trade through this town’s main street was not relentless as it was now.

“You’re not getting that large a portion,” Alina also stayed Anya’s hand when she served herself, “All this starch and grease will go right to your belly, and I know how you like showing that off.”

“As much as you like showing off those,” Anya sneered as she picked a piece of potato off and flicked it down Alina’s blouse, prompting her to jump.
>>
“Ow!” Alina squeaked, “Those are still hot!” She pouted at you, as though asking for help. You had none to give, and she sighed. “You never answered my question, earlier. About her clothes.”

“I don’t know,” you answered reflexively. “She looks good, I guess.”

You guess,” Alina rolled her eyes, “Anya’s insistent that you aren’t dating or anything, you know. It’s alright to be honest.”

Another piece of food flew across the table and down Alina’s shirt.

“Hey!” Alina snaped her head over angrily, “Stop that!”

“Shut up and eat, will you?” Anya said, “He’s gonna be here all night. At this rate the shit I chuck into your tits is gonna be ice cold.”

-----

That night, despite what Anya threatened, you did sleep in a bed. Alina and Anya slept in the other- sharing a bed as they had once done for years. I’d better hope there isn’t some strange guy there too, Anya had said in earshot of Alina. Thankfully, the provocation was not recognized. Peace still reigned in this little household.

Anya’s room had relatively little in it, besides a pair of chests you didn’t peek in, and a standing wardrobe that curiosity got the better of you, for. Within were a spread of uniforms- and at the bottom, boots. At the back was the shotgun you had gotten her as a gift, and you wondered if she still had the munitions caster somewhere as well, or if she had lost that in the war. Besides those containers and their contents, though, the room was relatively empty. The only other feature was a nightstand with a half-used candle and a stack of books- mostly about other countries. Smallish and worn tour guides laid in between more in-depth histories. A curiosity about the wider world.

You hoped you could show her it, you thought, as you laid atop the sheets rather than within them. It was difficult to ignore, after all, how they smelled of her- and how that made her appear next to you when you closed your eyes.

-----
>>
Morning came for you when the sun hadn’t quite risen- and with Anya up at the same time. Alina had not woken, and you would be waiting for her to before you thought of leaving, but in the meantime you bought breakfast for you and Anya in the form of rolled pancakes with cheese and fruit preserve filling.

“Better not tell Alina about this,” Anya said as she greedily chomped away three quarters of a roll in one ravenous bite.

“I’m keeping track of your middle, just in case.” You pinched Anya’s bare side just above the hip, and received a scrape down the shin from her boot in return.

“Oh, suck it up,” Anya chastised you as you crouched to the ground, wincing. “If I were serious about that I would have stomped on your foot.”

“It still hurts,” you muttered, “Couldn’t you have picked something more playful?”

“I’m not grabbing your ass,” Anya said. Not playful like that, you thought. “You learn anything more about close fighting while you were away? Some of those Silver Lance guys looked tough.”

“I did, but not from them,” you said. “Do you mind if I demonstrate? I learned a technique from a formidable woman.”

Anya tilted an eyebrow. “Alright. Show me.”

So, you did your best attempt at the Magician’s Strike- though you hadn’t had much time to practice it. A palm for the chin, the face, that concealed a true strike for the center mass.

Anya parried you in a way you should have expected, given that she was down an arm- but you hadn’t expected her to be so flexible that she could swipe her leg almost straight up, kicking both your strikes away.

“I can’t do it if you do that,” you complained.

“You were doing the Magician’s Strike,” Anya said as she let her leg down, a confused look on her face. “Who was this woman you said taught you that?”

“She called it Eberkampfen.” Boar Fighting.

Anya’s brow twisted more, her jaw slackened. “That’s…That’s Hell’s style. That’s what he called it.”

“Maybe they both learned it from the same person?”

“Who the hell would that be, though?” Anya demanded, as she shoved the rest of the rolled pancake into her mouth.

You shrugged. “I didn’t ask about that sort of thing. Maybe it’s more common than we think.”
>>
Anya shook her head, but didn’t press more. “Whatever. Your execution is fucked up. You were delaying to see what I’d do, and that gave me time to come up from below where you didn’t expect. Follow through fast. You need to make like both will hit at once.”

“Sounds like you can teach me.”

“I’d rather start out with building you up like before,” Anya touched your arm and pushed into it with a finger, “You can dirty fight better the better trained your body is. We can do the basics when we start up again.”

“Speaking of training,” you looked at Anya’s legs, “You can move your legs like that?”

“Yeah,” Anya said like it was nothing impressive, lifting her leg sideways until her foot was parallel with her head before taking hold of it with her free arm’s hand, “A tank can be a tight place. Gotta be able to move as fast as you can. That means keeping this up, so your muscles don’t lock up and get you stuck. Especially if you get shot up and shit scars over. Some people don’t keep it up and they turn into stone.”

“Interesting.” In several ways. “Can you teach that?”

“I learned it when I was young,” Anya said, “You get too old, I hear, and it’s a lot harder to get to this point.”

Oh well. Maybe Maddalyn’s young looking body might bely a potential for such.

“Tell me about the broad you told you how t’ do that, though?” Anya said in a serious tone, “It ain’t just any bitch that knows stuff like that. Most girls don’t know how to throw a punch, and they have glass jaws. If you’re friends with this person, I think I wanna meet ‘em.”

Anya had never met the Major, despite being in the same geographic position as her more than a few times. The Major’s status as your superior wasn’t even recognized by most you knew- besides you and Von Metzeler. Was it wise to tell your retinue too much about that enigmatic woman, you wondered..?

>Tell Anya about the Major, if you want. How much you want to tell and what about, is your choice. Personal opinions likely do not count as anything to be worried about sharing.
>Other?
>>
>>5300741
>Tell Anya about the Major, if you want.
Sure.
>How much you want to tell and what about, is your choice.
Might as well just tell her what we know, right? She already knows about our conditioning and that's probably the most sensitive matter regarding the Major that we know.
>Personal opinions likely do not count as anything to be worried about sharing.
"I called her Mother once, as a joke. In retaliation she proceeded to stomp on my head and waterboard me with a glass of milk. I've since become her best agent and our relationship has gotten...less physically abusive, which is nice."
Can't remember if I'm mixing up my stories, but either way I think this wraps up their relationship pretty well.
>>
>>5300741
>Tell Anya about the Major, if you want. How much you want to tell and what about, is your choice.

She's my boss, extremely tall, and yeah she definitely can fight. Not sure I want you to meet her though, having the attention of the IO isn't exactly a good thing.
>>
>>5300741
>>Tell Anya about the Major, if you want. How much you want to tell and what about, is your choice. Personal opinions likely do not count as anything to be worried about sharing.
Tall, dark haired, with familiar looking eyes. She may be the one behind most of the misadventures Richter has had, which shouldn't be an issue to tell Anya as long as she doesn't go yelling it at street corners. She is a bit hard to deal with, always knows more about whats going on than you do and doesn't often care much to help you figure out. She does seem to want Richter to be more, in her case more than a Dog for the Archduchy I think, but to what end I am not too sure. Maybe she just doesn't like people who serve mindlessly and wants some actual critical thinking, or maybe she just wants a better asset to make herself look better.
>>
>>5300741
It's not that I don't trust Anya, it's that it's better she doesn't know, I don't want to involve her in the IO bullshit we're stuck in, or worse, get her hurt or marked for knowing too much. We might get penalized ourselves if it's found out we told her.
>Don't tell her anything about the Major.
>>
>>5300741
>Tell Anya about the Major, if you want. How much you want to tell and what about, is your choice. Personal opinions likely do not count as anything to be worried about sharing.
Just another intelligence office "colleague". Huge woman, likes dogs, hates milk, all we know.
Also
Do you have a mock-up handy of one of those rifle proof stormsuits Loch's goons were fighting in while the battle for Todesfelsen was going on?
>>
>>5300735
Don't you fucking be gunning for a love triangle tanq.

>>5300741
>Tell Anya about the Major, if you want
It's someone high placed in Strossvald's military.
>>
>>5300810
>>5300826
>>5300869
>>5301560
What you know, plus a little that's not necessarily public.

>>5301077
Tell her nothing. For her own good.

>>5301608
She's military. That's all.

In short, the lowdown, but down low. Writing. Though it won't be out until I get back from work at best.

>>5301560
>Do you have a mock-up handy of one of those rifle proof stormsuits Loch's goons were fighting in while the battle for Todesfelsen was going on?
I don't, unfortunately, though it'd be a heavier derivative of the armor that's presently in use by the Reich, with experimental measures to distribute the extra weight. As such, it's an extremely limited equipment system only suitable for use by physically strong and particularly well trained individuals.
As for what the normal stuff looks like I can just point to this picture I did a while ago of normal Reich troops. Chest and back plates and pauldrons to protect against shrapnel and fragmentation, primarily, though they can deflect a pistol caliber round at range. It isn't meant to protect from rifle rounds.

>>5301608
>Don't you fucking be gunning for a love triangle tanq.
Please, I may be a hack, but not that much of one. Richter was a lonely only child. A cousin, perhaps a sister, is a foreign comfort to him.
Unless you're referring to Alina.
>>
>>5301876
Are those APCs standard for Reich Panzergrenadier formations, or limited to elite units like the Netillans?
>>
File: gr_pt30.jpg (132 KB, 1000x618)
132 KB
132 KB JPG
>>5302359
>Are those APCs standard for Reich Panzergrenadier formations, or limited to elite units like the Netillans?
They are standard- to the Reich Proper's panzergrenadier, as the territory is called, though not to the Protectorates'. The same is the case for the standard rifles, with the standard in the Kaiser's Reich being automatic-loading rifles instead of bolt action, though the body armor is decently common amongst the protectorates' troops.

Though the armored personnel carrier in most common use itself isn't exactly impressive in armament or protection- the vehicle the Netillians use is far beefier, but perhaps that is why it's more exclusive.

Update turned out to not be feasible last night- will have it up in a bit.
>>
“This person who taught me that move, that term,” you rolled over your words slowly, considering, pulling Anya to the side for more privacy to this topic, “Is my superior. My commander, I suppose. She’s very tall, the hugest woman I’ve ever seen. Dark, long hair, she can most certainly fight.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know. She’s called the Major.”

“So she’s Intelligence Office,” Anya said quietly.

“…What makes you think that?” You’d never told her about the Major, or the IO. She’d have had to learn about the IO from reading, or chatting. It wasn’t out of the picture- the shadowy organization had no small amount of rumors to gossip about.

“I’ve never seen you report to a higher officer,” Anya counted off on her fingers, “This higher officer is a woman, with no name, so she’s obviously not part of the Army, and you’re referring to her as your superior instead of one of those Silver Lance guys, and not that Von Blum guy. I have no clue who else they’d be with.”

Your retinue was more educated on Strossvald’s structure than you thought. She had some initiative studying it, for certain. “…Fair,” you said, “Then you know why you shouldn’t meet with her.”

“I shouldn’t,” Anya said, “But I want to…what color are her eyes?”

“Green. Does that matter?”

Anya frowned deeply. “…Nah, probably not. Tell me more.”

“As long as you don’t go telling anybody else.” You trusted Anya, but not the IO. “Especially this part, because she’s…probably behind a lot of what I’ve been doing, somehow, pointing me, directing me with or without my knowledge. She can be hard to deal with, knows a lot, but isn’t interested in sharing that knowledge. She seems to want me to think more for myself, which is a bit odd, considering our history, my conditioning, that you saw. I don’t know if she wants it for my benefit or hers.”

“So what, she’s your mom, or something?”

You peered at Anya with a funny squint. “Last I called her that, she poured milk up my nose.” Anya gave you an incredibly confused look, and you elaborated. “She has this game where you order her a drink, and no matter what you give her, you’re wrong. I did it as a joke.”

“But she’s not your mom.”

“No!” You were the confused one now, “You’ve seen my father, not my mother. She looks like…” you touched your hair, “She gave me this.” Maybe a few other things, too. “You can meet her when you see father again. Why would you think the Major is my mother?”

Anya blinked, then smirked. “Sounds like your mommy to me, heh.”
>>
Ah. She was messing with you. “Yes, very funny. She’s got a strange mothering technique, for sure, but these days she’s at least acted more nice.”

“Nice as some secret Archduchy goon can be,” Anya said with the sarcasm of somebody with a low opinion of every descriptor spoken, “Alina’s gotten to sleep in enough. Let’s go shake her awake so we can get outta this hole.”

Anya had decided to go in a hurry- so the tank was started up again after being topped up with fuel. Once you got back into the Archduchy, it could be handed off to be transported by rail instead of making a road trip. You were already gone for longer than you told Maddalyn you would be- she wouldn’t mind if you told her why it was important, surely, but there was no excuse to dawdle too long on the road.

Alina was indeed shaken awake, you presumed, from her initial drowsiness, but she didn’t come out until she was dressed and groomed. Considering her inclination towards maintaining her appearance, though it seemed like she was wearing the same thing as yesterday, you assumed it was a spare, similar outfit.

“You won’t be gone for a whole year, will you?” Alina asked her sister as you all stood by the Dust Devil, its engine rolling over like an overgrown and extremely aggressive clock was dying to start ringing.

“There is time between periods of classes for students to take small holidays,” you answered. She’d certainly be more accessible than if you took her with you somewhere.

“Take at least one of those times off to visit, will you?” Alina asked Anya as she spread her arms out. Anya went in with her own arm wide, and they embraced closely. They were both about the same height- rather small women, standing only about to your shoulder.

“Just don’t have anybody gross over,” Anya muttered, “That’s my house too. You’d better only let people worth it in.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Alina handed Anya something from her satchel. “Here. It’s a charm I got from one of the wandering markets that came through yesterday. They say it keeps haunting spirits from sticking to you and giving you bad luck.” It was a small bracelet with four knit straps around a silver ring, with beans between each strap that looked like some sort of ivory- save for one that was a pale white cowrie shell.

Anya gave you a partly inquisitive look, then took the charm. “…Thanks. I’ll try not to need it too much.” She jerked a thumb at you. “C’mon. Let’s get goin’. Gimme a boost.”

After you did, lifting her as you formed your hands into a step, you watched her crawl over the turret- was reminded of Viska’s flailing, that long time ago, when her arm had been completely destroyed…
>>
File: tcqscene204.png (1.78 MB, 900x1256)
1.78 MB
1.78 MB PNG
“Richter.” Alina said to you, with a request in her voice, “I know that she’s hard to handle. She never writes, she calls me nasty names. She’s rude, has a bad temper, is insensitive and tries her best to get under people’s skin just because she wants to prove she can, but…she’s my sister. She’s the only family I have. I love her, and I know she loves me, and other people, too. So…keep her safe, please. If anything happens to her, I want to be the first to know…okay?”

“Nothing will happen to her,” you said to Alina with a small bow of the head. “On my honor.”

Alina seemed to accept that. “Hopefully, when we see each other again, things will only have gotten better.” She closed an eye and waved a single crook of the arm, “I’ll try to trust you as much as my sister does.”

You could only hope so, as you waved, went around the Dust Devil, and climbed into the turret.

“Hurry up!” Anya urged you, “I wanna see your dad before he dies of old age!”

A roll of the eyes at that, as you slipped down into the hull and went for the driver’s seat.

-----
>>
Transferring the Dust Devil across the border was very nearly a colossal pain- despite that, technically, the vehicle was at least partially an Archduchy Armed Forces vehicle, and that its owner was a Retinue under a Strossvalder noble officer, the clerks sought to make your life difficult until you threatened to call your former battalion commander and go further up the chain. That made them shut up and stop wrapping you and your retinue up with red tape.

The Dust Devil would be delivered to the Blumlands, you were assured, within one week. That out of the way, both you and Anya got on a train. You both had basic apparel and personal effects in one case each- and one more case carried whatever weapons your retinue hadn’t stashed with the Dust Devil, hopefully not including the several explosives that had really thrown the border agents into a fit.

There was no convincing Anya to dress more conservatively- Strossvald’s sense of fashion was not like that of Sosaldt, and bare navels had little place in polite social spheres, not even in swimwear. Not that Anya cared about such. The only time you’d seen her relent was when she was in disguise- otherwise, she wore herself loud and proud. Yet an effective motivation turned out to be your suggestion that your father would rather she show up dressed to pass an inspection. You could have sworn she would spit shine her buttons, were they brass and not cloth on wood.

Even though you weren’t quite heading to the Capital yet. Firstly, you had to go find your former- and perhaps soon to be once again- second in command. Though he wouldn’t have had the fortune to be a Major soon, Von Metzeler would hopefully join you again…

The place that you had been told Rondo Von Metzeler was now residing in was in Altoss, though still in the Capital territory, in the lands of Von Schneeberg, whose sole heiress he had recently married. Anya leaned against the window of the courier car you’d hired to take you over, and you looked out the other side- the Schneebergs didn’t have a very interesting looking fief, covered in flat ground and subtle buckles in the land, almost entirely farms and little settlements to support them. A very quiet, yet also very serene place in an Archduchy you recognized more from the image of Strosstadt, a powerful and sprawling industrial city choked with smoke, or the forests outside of that industry where the hands of men nor kings had not torn down what there was of ancient wild.

You hadn’t exactly scheduled your visit, and when you first arrived, the guards barred you from venturing onto the property of the manor, commenting that the two of you were “the most suspicious people to come in years.”

Fair enough, considering that you and your retinue both had mauled visages. Though that must have been enough for somebody to recognize your visit, as somebody was sent out to attend to you after you lingered for a short time.
>>
The attendant was a maidservant that was singularly irritating, with how she quizzed you and Anya about being “criminal thugs” with unusual excitement before Anya said to you that she was going to kick her. The tone shifted then to a more formal request for you to, please, wait.

“It’s past noon,” Anya grumbled, “Grumpus can’t still be asleep.”

“He’s attending to business, I assume.”

“The hell sort of business is he up to? Jerking himself off?”

No comment on that, you thought as you drummed your fingers on the edge of the stone fence you both waited by, peering through wrought iron towards the manor. Von Metzler had participated in the Intelligence Office operation that you had refused- Von Walen hadn’t indicated that the man was any worse for wear afterwards, but you were prepared for anything.

That he’d gotten married before you was, again, rather embarrassing.

You had waited fifteen minutes, judging by your glances at your pocket watch, before Von Metzeler strode out the door, looking neat and well groomed, though damp, apparently fresh from a shower or bath. He still had a slouch that you recognized your shoulders having, not so long ago. The aftereffects of the conditioning’s removal hadn’t quite taken.

The tall man spoke with the guards, and you were let in. Von Metzeler saluted to you, and you returned it, by those gates.

“Von Tracht. Miss Nowicki.” He said in a rigid voice, “It is good to see you again, though, perhaps having a more firm time to expect your arrival would have been ideal…”

“C’mon. We’re not interrupting shit.”

Von Metzeler pursed his lips and shot a glance to Anya. “Were you not…never mind that. Despite your timing, I am glad that both of you have returned from your time spent in the war to the east.” His tone didn’t sound pleased, but you presumed a truth in his words. “I had assumed I would see you earlier, but now is fine as well. Did you come to visit, solely, or..?”

“I had expected to see your new wife,” you said, “Is she not here?”

“She is resting,” Von Metzeler said quickly, “Her sleep schedule is irregular. She will not be up for some time, unless you are going to stay that long. I confess that I am unprepared for your visit…”

Him being invited to your wedding was a given- though you hadn’t had the opportunity to attend his.

>Anything you want to discuss or do?
>Other?
>>
>>5302800
>Anything you want to discuss or do?
I'll get the basics out of the way early.
If we were unexpected then propose a walk around the estate while we chat, rather than rushing the servants to prepare somewhere for us to talk indoors.
Congratulate him for a successful marriage and let him know our regret for having missed such while off at war. Check how he's settling in with the new wife and if there's anything he's noticed about himself that has changed since, like is so often said of married men.
Let him know our time with the Lances is over for now and that we're due to recieve a promotion and take command of a new experimental unit, where we'd like his expertise, if he's able to give it.
Ask his advice for how best missfits like us should behave in the courts, should he have any prior experience there himself.
Tell of our chance encounter with Von Walen inside a badger den and his survival from the operation, his assumption of a new title and estate and his part to play in recovering our ancestor's sword, perhaps he might have heard something of it or it's legend before.
>>
>>5302800
>Anything you want to discuss or do?
Girl Talk! Wives sleeping at irregular times and staying up to do a mischief? Sounds familiar!
Otherwise just shoot the shit and catch up over some tea. How has he been? How is Krause doing? What's with the annoying maid? He clearly came back from the mission fine, but has the IO bothered him since? Any luck putting his past back together? Anything Yva related happen? How does he feel about teaching Richter how not to get skewered on a blade? Talk about Anya maybe going to college.
And of course, when will he be ready to return?
Lord knows Richter is the last person who would wanna take a man from his lovely wife. Rondo should have all the accommodations he needs, but an estimated arrival time would be nice.
>>
>>5302800
>Anything you want to discuss or do?
It looks like he is still going through some of the effects of removing the Trance. Hopefully there wont be any life threatening situations to give him a boost out of it, so that being the case would he like us to look into anything Maddy might be able to do to help get him recovered any quicker?
>>5302827
If we are talking about Von Walen I think we should steer clear of mentioning the operation. Loose lips sink ships and all that.
>>
>>5302800
>Anything you want to discuss or do?
How's married life? Any advice for someone doing the same in a few weeks?

Inform him about the invitation and unit thing, we know he's still probably suffering from the post-Trance effects so we'll try to accomodate it as much as possible until he can get rid of it.
>>
>>5302827
>>5302833
>>5302958
>>5302984
A variety of subjects. A request to join. Manners of trance.

Writing.
>>
“We can walk about, if you weren’t ready for us,” you offered, “No need for us to demand anything of the servants here in such a hurry.”

“I’m hungry,” Anya complained.

Von Metzeler had never been fond of your retinue’s attitude, and he ignored her implied demand. “The grounds are not a bad place to wander. The gardeners have been hard at work.” He motioned with his hand, “Over here. There is a pavilion with a good view we can sit at.”

“Thank you,” you said as you started walking, “I wanted to congratulate you on your marriage. A shame I wasn’t able to attend…”

“It was a hurried ceremony,” Von Metzeler said tiredly, “My family who arranged it, was not considerate of having guests or friendly relations. They only wanted it done as quickly as possible. You are not at fault.”

“I see,” you relaxed a bit, “Even so.”

“It was not a particularly joyous occasion. You are better off for missing it.”

“Well. You’re invited to mine, so you know, if you’re wanting for a celebration,” you gave your offer, “It’ll be in a few weeks. I’ve missed it twice already, myself, but I’m bringing as many people as I can get to come.”

“Present company included?” Von Metzeler looked at Anya, with the prelude to informing you of a bad idea.

“I had her presence approved by Maddalyn.” You paused, “Tolerated,” you corrected.

“I cannot imagine how you managed that.”

“I am not a complete dolt. I have my ways,” You did not speculate on which of those was most influential. “I’m also scheduled to receive a double promotion on my transfer out of the Silver Lances, back to the Von Blums, and placed in command of an experimental demi-battalion. I’d appreciate your experience and expertise, if you’re not planning on moving elsewhere.”

Von Metzeler glanced back. “Of course. Though not immediately.” He looked at Anya again, “I presume she is also to join you in this new unit?”

“Not immediately either,” you said, “I am having her take the Accelerated NCO Training course.”

“Hm. I see. You want to make her your executive.”

Anya shook her head. “Senior NCO.”

“Why?” Von Metzeler asked, “A commission for a non-commissioned position?”
>>
“I want to do it,” Anya said simply, tapping her cast and making a clacking sound on it, “And I need both my arms. I don’t want to lop this off and join the club, sorry.”

If Von Metzeler took any offense at that comment, he didn’t show it. “Which academy?”

“I was thinking of the Capital,” you said, “The same we went to.”

“The Archduke’s Own Panzer Officer Academy,” Von Metzeler said with reverence, “Are you sure? It may not be the friendliest environment for…her sort.”

“I can take it,” Anya said firmly.

“As she says.”

“If you think so,” Von Metzeler allowed, as he pointed to a small platform with a fancily designed roof, and a table in the center. A binocular telescope was mounted on a pivot beside. “There.”

As soon as you ambled over, Anya bended over to peer through the telescope, rather than sitting down to view the landscape, while you and Von Metzeler took a proper seat.

“I have to say,” you grunted as you settled down, “A wife with irregular sleeping schedule sounds awfully familiar. Maddalyn has been staying up all night to go off and work on research of some sort. Her hours are the sort where we sleep together but little else, so far.”

“What sort of research?” Von Metzeler asked.

“I’m uncertain.” Half-truth. Half concealment of a project you were sure Maddalyn didn’t intend for you to tell anybody about. “I trust her. I’ve just been busy settling into my new responsibilities. Everything coming back from the Silver Lances. I’m to make a court debut at the end of the week in Blumsburgh. Do you have any advice for that? I’d imagine that misfits like you and I should act similarly.”

Von Metzeler shook his head. “I cannot remember attending a court debut, only a couple of events during Academy years. I do know how you should act, however. Given that it is a debut, you should be aware that all eyes are on you. And the company you have.” He looked towards Anya. “Are you..?”

“My fiancée will be accompanying me. I was advised to leave things to her. Anya should be getting ready to enroll in Academy, not fooling about in noble courts.” Although…
>Invite Anya go to your court debut- though not as your partner, obviously.
>What an awful idea that would be. If you wanted your retinue in a party dress, it could be some other time.

“It would be a good idea. To leave your retinue behind, given your-“

“Yes, I know,” you interrupted sharply, “Aside from that.”

“You should ask about the nature of the particular court. Is it a rowdy, partying sort?” Von Metzeler asked.

“It is Lord Von Blum’s own, so I was told, no,” you answered.

“That does not mean there will be no jabs or confrontations. Only that they wll be spoken coyly or hidden in plain sight. It is vital that you respond to any such affronts in a debut. Else your reputation will be colored by that.”
>>
“So anybody calls you names, you sock ‘em.” Anya said for you.

“I do not think that went well for you in particular,” Von Metzeler said dourly.

There would be no punching going on at this court, you thought. Though you did ponder potential fashion for whom would be your accompaniment…could you convince Maddalyn into anything like Anya had worn? “I’ll be wearing a sword to the court, as well. I met Von Walen while I was with the Silver Lances, and I did him a favor…then another one. So he’s helping me get my family blade back. Would you be able to help me learn to use it? Just in case.”

“…Perhaps.” Von Metzeler said, “If your retinue is not going to also instruct you, due to being away. Though I do not think I will be immediately present for the long term, either.”

“Why not?” Anya asked, not turning away from looking through the telescope.

“It may sound as though I am concerned for something that can be dealt with in the long term,” Von Metzeler said, “But I would like to be sure that Klaudia is with child.”

That made Anya turn her head. “…Y’know, you can do that without havin’ t’ be here. Pretty sure of how that works.”

“The patriarch of Von Schneeberg, her father, is quite sickly, with a heart condition that he has developed,” Von Metzeler said, “I would not take her from her sole remaining family when he could be close to death with but a single downturn in his health. I need to ensure she will be left alone by my family, so I need to show some long term compliance towards…marital duties.”

“Well. A planned date for your arrival would be appreciated, even so,” you said, “I don’t want to impose, but with Anya gone and an uncertain amount of my officers returning to service, I’ll need all the help I can get.”

“A few months would be safe.” Von Metzeler said, “At the latest.”

“It’s understandable. I’d rather stay with my wife a while myself.” Though your ceremony and honeymoon would be happier in nature, you hoped. “How has married life been? I’ve heard it changes a man…and I’d like to be ready.” That was what father said, though to be fair, his most standout behavior was what got him into the marriage in the first place.

Von Metzeler looked up with an empty look creasing his eyes and lips. “I doubt my difficulties will be things you share, Von Tracht. It is not what I expected. Perhaps not what I hoped for, once. Klaudia is not a bad woman at all, but I was forced onto her. In a way, she was to me, as well. We have moved on from that, but I do not love her, to be true. I think she knows that, as well. I would be satisfied with being a good husband, but I am unsure if I am being the best I can be…”
>>
Anya kept peering at Von Metzeler, still bent down, staring the whole while as he said his piece. “You still got that shit in your head, huh? Still messed up?”

Von Metzeler glanced back. “You can tell, then.”

“I’ve seen you before,” Anya said, “Fairy boy got better ‘cause he was in fightin’. Maybe you need more of that sooner rather than later.”

Von Metzeler tightened his mouth. “I have thought about that. I have felt the pull of it. I want to return to service, but I do not know if I should.”

“I can see if Maddalyn can do anything about it,” you offered, though you didn’t know if she even could. Her contributions to your recovery had been the scent of her perfume and the touch of a scarf, which were not so insubstantial as that might seem, but it was hardly a concrete process to follow. “So you still can’t remember your past, then, combined with that?”

“Not a single piece,” Von Metzeler shook his head, “I have not forgotten what I learned, but I could not tell you how. I doubt it will return, either. I have made my peace with that.”

Perhaps you should then too, you thought with a sinking of your heart. How nice it would be for your combat skills to return from the nothing they dissolved into…

“After all.” He found a new firmness in his voice, “Then was then. I have a life beyond that. Beyond a history of hatred with my family.” He paused. “I meant to ask you immediately, but there was not a place for it. You found Von Walen?”

“I did. He was disheveled, but uninjured.”

“Hm.” Von Metzeler nodded, “That is good.”

You didn’t bring up the operation the IO had sent the both of them on. Better not to spread around too much news that you questioned after it. “I sent him back home. He has a new fief now- and some fancy new name. I don’t remember what it is.”

“So long as he is doing better. He was not somebody satisfied by his place…” Von Metzeler pondered aloud, “this may sound strange, but after what I’ve told you of my marriage…do you have any advice for me?”

Anya spoke up before you did. “Why don’tcha go do stuff you like? Maybe she’ll like it too. Maybe she doesn’t know if she likes it yet, and she’ll find out. Like a surprise.”

Von Metzeler seemed receptive, but uncertain. “Are you sure about that, Nowicki?”

“I mean,” Anya said lowly, “It’s what I’d want. I’m a woman. I count, don’t I?”

“I do believe that you are a woman, though I do not agree you are alike most,” Von Metzeler said in skeptical reply.

“Look,” Anya’s voice grew frustrated as she straightened up and made the best attempt at crossing her arms she could make, “I went dancing with fairy boy here, and I liked it. I danced with Edelschwert later, and I liked it. Do y’think I danced before? Hell no. Just...go and do it.”
>>
“…I see,” Von Metzeler relaxed. “Speaking of…Von Tracht. Did you happen to meet Edelschwert as well, in Netilland, with the Silver Lances?”

“I did. He was well.”

“He wanted to see you again,” Von Metzeler said, "You as well, Nowicki."

“…Hmph.” Anya looked back into the telescope again. “Whatever.” She sounded a little…hurt, somehow. “Hey, that dumb blonde is peeping on us. Who the hell is that?”

Von Metzeler was confused by that reaction to Magnus, clearly…but dropped it. “That? Oh. That is Tina. One of Klaudia’s maidservants. And friends. She is a clumped up ball of barely reserved lewd behavior- and I think that my wife speaks with her about certain matters I do not expect her to at all. I know not whether or not to take certain suggestions in jest…but I do for most all of them. She is a very playful joking individual.” He shook his head, “Incorrigible.”

“How about Yva or Krause?” you asked, “Have you heard from either of them, or how they’re doing?” The latter was a friendly concern. The former was not. You ill needed soulbinders poking about anywhere near you now.

“Frederick is just fine,” Von Metzeler said, “He happened into a healthy portion of money. He has been finding ways to put it to use, in the interests of his future. As for Yva…I know not. I have not seen her since Ellowie. Though for some reason, I feel as though she has been close…I cannot explain why.” Curious. “Your mention of Frederick made me think,” Von Metzeler said with a lean back, “Miss Nowicki is to be your senior enlisted. Since this is a demi-battalion, I presume the organization is similar. So you will have an executive officer, and platoon leaders for the armor company.”

“Would you like to be executive officer?” You asked.

“I do not mind it either way,” Von Metzeler said, “But my point. Are you planning on bringing along the other tank commanders?”

“I am,” you said, “I was told that promotions could be arranged to raise them to platoon leaders.”

“Even so,” Von Metzeler went on, “Assuming every one of us went along with it. Myself, Frederick, Von Neubaum, Von Walen, Von Igel- that makes five. If I am to be your executive officer, then four. How many armor platoons are in this demi-battalion?”

“Six,” you said, “I see your point.” Though one was to be a special platoon, anyways.

“So the question is of, who you will be filling the spaces with.”

You had some ideas…

>Firstly-
>Make Von Metzeler your XO
>Have Von Metzeler be a platoon leader
>Other?
Then-
>Fill in any spaces with officers you know, or know of. (Such as?)
>The rest of the leadership doesn’t matter too much- as long as they’re skilled.
>See if you can draw some favor- plan to open up officer positions to political candidates.
>Other?
Finally-
>Do anything else anywhere else before heading back to the Blumlands? (Other than a visit to the parents for Anya)
>>
>>5304167
>What an awful idea that would be. If you wanted your retinue in a party dress, it could be some other time.

>Make Von Metzeler your XO

>Fill in any spaces with officers you know, or know of.
Give Krause and Von Walen a platoon, Von Igel can be our paperwork guy since the Major was considering assigning him to staff officer duties.

Von Neubaum can be offered a platoon as well though I'm frankly expecting him to turn it down.

Armour aside, I wonder if Captain Honnereig would be willing to command our Panzergrenadier contigent, though my guess is he'd rather not leave Bat Company.

Otherwise
>The rest of the leadership doesn’t matter too much- as long as they’re skilled.

Though I wouldn't be opposed to some wheel greasing if the RP gains were significant and the person was at least average if unexceptional.

>Do anything else anywhere else before heading back to the Blumlands? (Other than a visit to the parents for Anya)

Get the business with the Van Halms settled before we head back.
>>
>>5304176
Also see if we can't get the sword polished up or something once we get it back from Von Walen, who knows when was the last time maintenance was done on it
>>
>>5304167
Supporting all of >>5304176. It goes along my own ideas.
>>
>>5304167
>What an awful idea that would be. If you wanted your retinue in a party dress, it could be some other time.

>Have Von Metzeler be a platoon leader
I know he would be a capable XO, but I think him being a platoon leader would help him see more combat, which would help him get over his mind stuff. I'm not sure if an XO would almost ever see combat, much less do enough to be considered "bravery" for the purposes of overcoming the mind corruption.

Officers:
>Krause, Von Walen
>The rest of the leadership doesn’t matter too much- as long as they’re skilled.
Definitely not Von Neubaum, I don't want him around.

>Do anything else anywhere else before heading back to the Blumlands?
I suppose settling business with the Van Halms would work, but we're already late, so hopefully not much else, and for not too long.
>>
>>5304260
also Von Igel for either paperwork or a platoon
>>
>>5304164
>What an awful idea that would be. If you wanted your retinue in a party dress, it could be some other time.

>>5304167
>Make Von Metzeler your XO
>The rest of the leadership doesn’t matter too much- as long as they’re skilled.
I mean, of course get the boys back in town, but I...don't think Richter has enough friends to fill things out.

>Do anything else anywhere else before heading back to the Blumlands?
Best not, don't wanna keep the wife waiting much longer.
>>
>>5304167
>What an awful idea that would be. If you wanted your retinue in a party dress, it could be some other time.

>Have Von Metzeler be a platoon leader

>Fill in any spaces with officers you know, or know of.
Given his track record of blowing through crews, his poor interpersonal interactions and his recently expressed desire to pack in tanking, I am tempted to give the XO position to Von Walen, rather than make him miserable in the commander's seat any longer.
Put the rest of our lads in charge of a platoon each.
See if our old friend Honnreig has any recommendations he could loan us to command our panzergrenadier. Perhaps Adel(?), the medic responsible for patching up and escorting Maddy from the dust storm would fancy the promotion?
Assuming Von Neubaum loses out or Von Igel is put in charge of clerical duties, we could probably do with a competent artillery officer to coordinate these SPGs, though I'm not sure we've run into any of those on our journeys, just the kind who like to load cake making ingredients instead of proper shells or try to incinerate their own armour.
Also, much as we don't like him Gerovic is still an extremely competent commander who can offer a lot in regards to our drive to produce unorthodox tank tactics and it would be a waste not to use him as a platoon leader, now that we've got him. We'll just have to make sure his crew is armed at all times.

>Do anything else anywhere else before heading back to the Blumlands? (Other than a visit to the parents for Anya)
Supporting sorting out Van Halm while we polish our sword.
Wait, no!
>>
>>5304176
+1
>>
>>5304164
>>5304167
>Invite Anya go to your court debut- though not as your partner, obviously.
>Other?
Ask Von Metzeler if he wants to join

>See if you can draw some favor- plan to open up officer positions to political candidates.

>Do anything else anywhere else before heading back to the Blumlands? (Other than a visit to the parents for Anya)
Drink some absinthe with Von Metzeler
>>
>>5302795
Fucking beautiful.

>jackiechan'suncle.jpg
>>
>>5304167
>What an awful idea that would be. If you wanted your retinue in a party dress, it could be some other time.

>See if you can draw some favor- plan to open up officer positions to political candidates.
>>
>>5304613
>spoiler
The Major has dibs on him already, she mentioned earlier in the thread she's going to be sending him out west.
>>
>>5304716
I've been under the impression these preparations for the demi-battalion aren't going to manifest for about 4 months to a year, what with Anya's academy course taking at least that long and Richter and his team's next foreign intelligence assignment starting in 3 months. We should have him back by the time everyone else is.
>>
>>5304744
I've never had the impression that Gerovic was under Richter in the first place, he seems to report to the Major directly.

Also while I don't doubt his skills I'm strongly hesitant to make an officer of a hostile great power part of the actual army, even if he's supposedly Tranced.
>>
>>5304953
especially with the proximity of spooky stuff that we'll be working with
>>
>>5304966
That too, since Gerovic knows quite a lot about these kind of things for a non-soulbinder.

Though since we're on this topic tanq with Richter's new rank and position how much juggling between his regular and IO jobs is there going to be post-timeskip, since battalion CO isn't really a position you can afford to be away from the unit for long (much less when a sizeable amount of the command staff are fellow operatives)?

From a quest/game perspective bringing the demi-battalion out west and basically having a Strossvalder version of Luftpanzer would be cool, but that'd probably require the IO to cut a deal with our in-laws. Or are we going to go back to being a platoon leader again?
>>
>>5304176
>>5304233
>>5304670
RondXO
Make the hedgehog man a paper pusher.
Find the Ham.

Have your sword polished.

>>5304260
Have Von Metzeler be a platoon leader instead. Bar Von Neubaum, though- no harems allowed.

>>5304321
No Halming Around.

>>5304613
Make Von Metzler a platoon leader- spoil the runt.
See if you can get more help from elsewhere- when you can get into contact. From a variety of places.

Polish your Sword.

>>5304681
The one dissenter towards taking Anya.
But the real date is with Von Metzeler.
Make a three party drink-a-thon.

Writing.

>>5304702
>Though since we're on this topic tanq with Richter's new rank and position how much juggling between his regular and IO jobs is there going to be post-timeskip, since battalion CO isn't really a position you can afford to be away from the unit for long (much less when a sizeable amount of the command staff are fellow operatives)?
That is to be seen. Needless to say the IO probably doesn't have the same tasks in mind. At least, not reasonably.

>From a quest/game perspective bringing the demi-battalion out west and basically having a Strossvalder version of Luftpanzer would be cool, but that'd probably require the IO to cut a deal with our in-laws. Or are we going to go back to being a platoon leader again?
That's to be seen. Not to be a tease, but I prefer not to lay every single plan I have for the future on the table. I will say that once a capability to be more than a platoon leader is gotten, it'd be a bit odd to insist on having them do less than they're capable of.
>>
“First of all,” You told Von Metzeler, “I want you to be my executive officer. You seemed a natural choice.”

Von Metzeler nodded in acceptance. He was a competent officer, after all, even if the conditioning still marred him. You looked at Anya to see if she might be upset- but the only thing you saw from her was her rear end sticking out as she refused to sit to use the land viewing device. What exactly she found so interesting out there was a mystery- perhaps the vastness of it all, dedicated to crops?

“I need my left hand as well as my right, after all,” you gave an explanation anyways, “The Major said that Von Igel was good at clerical work. I thought he could be in my staff somewhere. Perhaps logistics. Combat might be a waste.”

Mentioning the Major made Anya turn her head again in interest, but Von Metzeler needed no introduction to the Major’s opinions. “Then you are even more in need of proper platoon leaders, should he accept.”

“Will he?”

“It is a quick career path upwards, for less than a year in the army,” Von Metzeler said, “So long as he does not expect to be thrown into a fire…again.”

“Anyways. The rest of the leadership doesn’t matter terribly much to me who it has,” you went on, “So long as they’re possessed of some skill.” Though depending on what might be offered for less pragmatic appointments… “I’ve thought not to invite Von Neubaum into command. His private affairs are not to my liking.”

“What, does he screw boys?” Anya asked.

“The opposite,” you said, “The Major disapproves of his brazenness, as it were.”

“Again,” Von Metzeler said levelly, “You may not have a choice. If you are picking for skill rather than reputation, I must remind you that Von Neubaum was one of the most capable graduates of the Capital Panzer Academy. Few scored higher marks than him, in all fields. He has his severe flaws, but he also has talent perhaps greater than you or I.”

“Humph. I’d contest that, now.”

“Fairy Boy’s a Silver Lance,” Anya’s support was unexpected, but immensely gratifying. “Who’s this guy, just some fucker of bitches? Please.” She looked at you again, “Quit lookin’ at my ass while I’m talkin’.” It was difficult not to while looking at her face at the same time, from this angle, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Even though you’d been caught for only a brief moment. “What about that Captain? Him and his boys seemed good for this sorta thing.”
>>
“I was just thinking of that,” you said, “Captain Honnrieg might be willing to come to us…or if he’s attached to his home region, maybe he can lend some of his men. Bat Company’s leadership would certainly be a boon to our Panzergrenadier company.” Despite Bat Company being a part of a Light Rifles unit- though they didn’t seem to feel any restrictions in operational style from that classification. “I have time to think things over and send out offers. I may as well not settle for anybody but the best.” You would have the best Senior NCO already, for example.

…You wondered, too, if Gerovic might be lent to you. It was a fanciful thought- for all his skill, he was an agent of an enemy state, kept on a leash by the Major, and also, Anya seemed quite serious about wanting to kill him. May as well add an artillery officer to your wishlist- for the experiment you had rolling about in your imagination. You’d never met one, even though the Archduchy had no shortage of capable ones. Artillery Officers were not frequently nobility, but their important role in the battle line meant they held more prestige than so-called tag-along panzergrenadiers.

“This is unrelated to matters of military, but,” you said, “Do you want to come to the court, perhaps? I shan’t have my fair retinue, Maddalyn will already be frustrated enough that I am late…”

“I am afraid that I cannot,” Von Metzeler said, “And you are late? With Nowicki? I should not keep you any longer.” He stood up, “It has been pleasant, Von Tracht, for what little time we spent today, but I should not distract you more than you already distract yourself. As you once rambled on…”

“Surely we have time for some absinthe,” you said in jest, but Von Metzeler did not take joke.

“You hardly need encouragement to share drinks around Miss Nowicki,” the one armed officer scolded you.

Anya smirked at him. “C’mon, Grumpus, maybe it’ll make your arm grow back.”

Von Metzeler looked skyward. “It is always the blondes who insist on making themselves trouble…if you must have absinthe, find it in the Blumlands, for goodness’ sakes. Such Emrean things are more common the closer you get…”

-----

Anya now craved absinthe, since your joking mention of it- though she spoke nothing of the “traditional ritual,” and rather, how its incredible potency made it a fun part of the drinking game where she’d managed to find herself in possession of some.

“You’ll develop a bad habit,” you admonished.

“I already got plenty.”

It wasn’t terribly long before you got back to the capital- and to your old home, for an unscheduled, early visit. Anya marveled at the house that, for so long, you had considered a step down from your family’s former glory. Maybe it mattered more to her that Heller had been around it- and that Father lived in it.
>>
Yet somebody unexpected waited for you at the entrance.

“Ah,” the person clapped their hands together, “You are Richter Von Tracht, right?”

The resemblance was there. Though he didn’t remember you, you reflexively pursed your lips…at Van Halm. Karel Van Halm. Prettier than his brother, longer hair that fell to his shoulders unlike his brother’s shorter hair, a different hue of gold in his locks, but the same glad eyes and smile, though unlike the other time you remembered it directed at you, this one had…relief, to it. He wore a simple white long sleeved button shirt and black trousers, a clasp around his collar loosely displaying the symbol of his house, the three petals and three leaves of the Sea Cliff Flower.

“I am,” you said hesitantly. When he looked at Anya, you elaborated. “She is my retinue, Anya Nowicki.”

Van Halm strode forward and fell to one knee before Anya, taking her free hand and kissing it on the back. “It is an honor.” It was not a flirtatious sort of gesture, though Anya’s confused blinking and leaning back showed she presumed it was one. Rather, it was something unthinkable for such a man of high nobility to do. To kneel before a lowbown Wastes bastard. “Von Tracht,” he bowed his head, and crossed a hand over his heart. “I’ve been told that…you saved the life of my brother, Oskar. He is…my most treasured family. I can’t express how thankful I am to you, even if you did not know of how much I value him. If he was lost…I fear I would be, too.” He kept his head down, as he stood up, then looked at you with some moroseness gone from his face. “So. As proper show of my gratitude,” he produced a cylinder from his pocket, “If you need anything from me, just send my house a letter with this seal’s print upon it, and it will be delivered directly to me to be read as soon as possible.” He bowed, “I know not if I have done anything to offend you, but in case I have, I apologize. Unfortunately, I have to be going. I have put off some things to make sure I could find you, and you have not been an easy man to track down…I hope to hear from you soon, Von Tracht.”

He was away before you could think of what to ask him. Even in gratitude, he was inconsiderate as ever. At least, from how you remembered him. You weren’t acquainted, but you remembered him being grating.

“Who the hell was that?” Anya asked.

“The brother of one of my platoon members in the Silver Lances,” you said. There was a bit more than that, politically, but it was all that was needed for now. “Let’s go in now.” It was afternoon- time for tea, both in the sense of food and of drink.

The reactions to Anya’s presence were mixed. Your father was happy enough, though Hilda was nonplussed, and for some reason, your mother wasn’t very happy, though she tried not to show it. Maybe it was because she wasn’t very fond of Heller.
>>
Not that you stayed longer than tea- a request for Anya to stay longer was made, both to delay her entry into the Blumlands so as to not seem to be returning with you, but also so that she could spend some time with you father. When it was time for you to head out and catch a flight as to not be two days late, Geroldt had found an old framed picture of Heller, and had given it to Anya. When you bid her farewell, she was sitting down, slumping, staring at the old photo with the saddest look on her face that you had ever seen…

-----

Finally, you found yourself back in the Blumlands- thought it was very late, night had fallen, and looking at your watch told you that Maddalyn would be off to her research by now. At least you had returned not egregiously/i] late. Von Walen needed to send along your sword soon- you hardly wanted to go out again to give him a firm reminder.

Back to the Von Blum’s estate you went, and to Maddalyn’s room- where you were let in. Dropping off your briefcase of things and washing yourself off, you went to bed in naught but your briefs. As it was your fiancée’s bed, you hardly felt any need to be modest. A presumption that you found yourself correct on, when you were awoken again in the very early morning, still pitch black outside- and inside. Though you felt somebody sitting on your chest. You only knew one person who weighed so little, had such a bottom as was resting on you, and could see in complete darkness. A cautionary touch told you she was wearing her soft pajamas- both on top and below.

“Richter,” Maddalyn said quietly as she knelt on your chest, “You were gone for longer than you said you would be.” She bent forward, eyes staring into yours, you could feel. There was a slight glow, in the darkness- you wondered if it was her eye. “I missed you.”

“I just had to-“ you began to explain, but a finger was touched to your mouth.
>>
“Shush.” Maddalyn leaned back on you and shuffled her pajama pants off, then her panties, her long sleeved jumper still on as she pushed herself forward onto your mouth. You obliged her- and yourself, as you reached around and pressed your hands into her naked rump, pressing the whole of your tongue against your fiancée’s sex, feeling her shiver as you curled around and lavished upon her most sensitive point.

After some minutes of soft suggestions that were followed to the letter, Maddalyn backed off of you as you tried to hold her longer, kissing deeply, as she pushed your head away and turned herself around, pushing her butt into your face.

“I found this ointment…” she cooed at you, and though you didn’t see it, you heard the opening of a small jar, and felt her shift your briefs down to free your privates in their entirety. The slick sound of her rubbing her hands together with the ointment- then the heat of first one hand, then both, wrapping around your member. You found Maddalyn’s slit again, and began to kiss once more as she moved her hands back and forth in a clumsy motion, but well aided with ointment and an enthusiastically taut grip.

The combination of feeling up her thighs and bottom, the smell and wet of her, and her stimulation, proved too strong to resist for more than a few minutes, and the final straw was her noticing your twitching, and closing her mouth around the end of your manhood. She wrung you, and fireworks burst in your skull as your body tried to give her everything it could.

Maddalyn nearly gagged, you heard, but you heard a jar opening again, and she spit, then coughed. “Th-that was…blegh…a lot...” She complained thinly, as you resumed your part in this, and she stroked the last of the hardness from you, kissing the end of the head.

She sat up again, your face blessedly buried for a moment before she turned back and turned you with her, resting your head against one thigh and curling her other leg around you, pulling you deep in with no chance of escape. Nor desire to.

With a final gasp, squeak, and soft moan, Maddalyn’s grip on your head loosened, but you remained down there, stroking her thighs, softly nibbling, drawing your thumb over her nether until she moved herself down again, pushing herself against your body..

You didn’t let her put her pants back on, and she fell asleep half-naked next to you after brief exchanges of whispered flirting- and you soon followed her into slumber yourself.

-----
>>
The light of morning brought you back to a well-rested wakefulness, and you groped at Maddalyn’s bum with a drowsy paw…and found she was wearing pants again. Hum.

As you began to push yourself up, Maddalyn protested by squeezing you. “Don’t get up yet…” she said, still sounding tired but not as much as you’d have thought she would be. “You don’t have anywhere to be…”

Well. Maybe not immediately, but you probably could drop by somewhere…

…That wasn’t one of the places Maddalyn didn’t want you to go.

Would there ever be a good time to bring up the questions you had? The questions you’d been asked to ask, but had delayed on for one reason or another all this time? Maybe it wasn’t something that would find a time until you regretted not asking earlier, one way or another. It was only the morning after you got back, and the first thing the two of you had done was fool around with each other in bed. Like newlyweds, or soon to be, ought to.

Maybe you could be more conversational about something else. Like the court debut…

>If not now, when? The questions you had weren’t growing less pressing with time…(What do you ask? You may leave things out- or add things on…)
>This was a home. A holiday. No need to dive into business right away. See if you could convince Maddalyn into a dress you’d like her in for this party coming up… (What sort? Be descriptive- she’s rich and decently accommodating.)
>Other?
>>
>>5306613
>If not now, when? The questions you had weren’t growing less pressing with time…(What do you ask? You may leave things out- or add things on…)

So what is your super secret project that needs you personally around to handle? We're just concerned given the whole Garten affair, and that research wasn't even anything Presence-related.

As for the court debut, any pertinent info she thinks we need would be fine. Any of the fathers vassals we need to take note of, what's been the recent topic of conversation within the courts, stuff like that.
>>
>>5306619
+1
Also ask for fashion advice for ourselves. For example is our Elowian overcoat a good idea to wear over our uniform?
>>
>>5306619
Oh yeah also discuss Netanel and the other people we met down in the cavern.

There's the whole Mathilda thing as well but dunno if we want to cram all the heavy stuff at once.
>>
>>5306619
I'm ok with this line of questioning, but do we really want to justify it with secret IO happenings that she shouldn't know? I don't want to endanger her for knowing too much. We might have to think of some other reason to justify asking her again.
>>
>>5306613
>Other?
Give her the choice of what she’d wanna do.
I feel it's definitely about time she know about Richter's concerns about all the things Mathilda told him and Maddalyn's research too. But I still feel we got time enough to let her tell us on her own and not put her on the spot.
So instead of pressing her on answers to pressing questions, we let her know the whole of our concerns and then see how she'd like to proceed. And if she isn't comfortable talking about it right this second, then we can always have Richter ask about the court and fun dresses.
So long as she understands Richter knows something is up and she needs to spill sooner than later.
>>
>>5306613
>>If not now, when? The questions you had weren’t growing less pressing with time…(What do you ask? You may leave things out- or add things on…)
I would like to see the Mom please. If it's just something Mathilda said to cause trouble then it shouldn't be too big and issue. But if it actually is something of a secret then I want to know.
>>
>>5306667
I'll support this as well, especially if she's still wary about opening up.
>>
>>5306613
>>5306667
I'll support this. Add that she's been holding back answers to questions at least since the fat angry catfish monster attacked us when Hilda, Maddy and Richter were shooting in the woods near his house.

>Maddalyn nearly gagged, but you heard a jar opening again
CONFIRMED. So much goddamn trouble coming.
>>
>>5306613
Supporting
>>5306667
If they're to be wed then I think Richter needs to trust Maddalyn enough to air his concerns and let her sort out her responses.
As for the dresses, Richter did want to see Maddie in something akin to Anya's second party dress IIRC. At the very least float the idea if talking about heavier stuff is too uncomfortable.
>>
>>5306619
>>5306624
>>5306666
So, this project. I need to know about it. And those weird mountain people.

>>5306667
>>5306670
>>5306842
>>5307251
Restate concerns. Ask Maddalyn what she's willing to reveal. Though if she was willing to talk- why didn't she do it before?

Writing.

>>5306668
Unsure by what you mean by "the mom." Are you talking about the grave under the manor?


>>5306842
What is confirmed, pray tell?

>>5306624
>For example is our Ellowian overcoat a good idea to wear over our uniform?
Richter would know this one already. Suffice it to say, no. Not only is it a foreign military jacket when a military man of Strossvald should proudly display his nation's own colors, but it is the dress of a Republic that cast down a Kingdom. A kingdom that was the willing servants of the Reich, though that's just casting even more complicated status onto the matter. Ellowie is liked for its disruption of Strossvald's rivals, not because it is considered a likable state by the Archduchy in general. Choosing to wear it at your debut, the first impression by important people, would be a good way to signal that you're a Republican, which is not the sort of first impression you may want to make.
>>
If you didn’t ask about the things Maddalyn was up to, what had happened in her life, that weighed on your mind for their lack of answers…when would you? They were not growing less pressing with time. Yet you had the feeling that asking would give nothing…so you would have to frame it properly. To try and ease your way into her mind, to make her feel safe enough to tell you at least a little bit.

“Maddalyn,” you said, quiet as the morning with your hand on the small of her back, “I’ve found myself thinking a lot about many things. In my idle time in the war, and after. I’ve wanted to be back with you, but I’ve also had…questions. I have even more now that I am here. I understand that everybody has things they’d rather have hidden, but I also want you to understand that I’m concerned. Especially with the nature of what I’m not being told about, how dangerous it is…Would you not be able to open up about any of it at all?”

Your fiancée said nothing, but you felt her tense up tightly.

“Maddalyn?”

“Why do you have to know?” She asked emotionlessly, “Was what I told you not enough? That it was dangerous, and better to be away from…”

“Yet you are ever near it. Your project requires your constant attendance. I have come to know of other secret projects elsewhere, and they have turned out to have been terribly perilous.”

That is important,” Maddalyn’s voice grew more stern, more irritable, “I have my knowledge. My spells. My sight. You have a familial tendency towards curiosity. I already told you what the project was.”

What it was, but nothing else, naught else about it. “I only want to know what you are willing to tell me,” you said, squeezing her around her waist under the bedsheets, “Knowing nothing about what is happening makes me feel anxious. Unprepared for the worst. You’ve been holding back answers, since that thing attacked, the Devourer. The Zvchelle. I know when things are happening despite being told otherwise…won’t you tell me before something happens, where I find out in a way that may harm me?”

“…” Maddalyn had not relaxed even a bit. “Ask about something that has you concerned, then,” she said curtly, wriggling in your grasp to turn her back against you.

“That project you’re always on, every day, that you can barely be torn away from. What is it?”

“An initiative to create soldiers from humans otherwise rendered useless, destroyed inside. Did I not tell you that?”

“I can’t come and see it?”

“…No.”

“Why not?”
>>
“You have a mark, it is unsafe, and it might be unpleasant to see. I don’t want you near it. Do you not want me to stay away from your wars?” Maddalyn's voice turned hurt for that last note, “You know plenty about it.”

Yet the mystics hidden under the earth claimed you had no such mark. Who was lying, and why?

“I met with a group of mystics in an underground compound, with Bastian,” you said next, “They refused to speak to me directly. They said they did so because of your instruction, and referred to you as Heritor. What’s with that?”

“I told them…not to bother you,” Maddalyn said with hesitation, “So that they don’t demand anything. They have all sorts of strange names for things, they’re mystics. There’s nothing to it. They’re trying to recreate Earth Cores, Artifacts. They’re proceeding. Gradually.”

It didn’t add up. Nothing of that sounded like something you would explicitly have to not be spoken to about- especially when your closeness to her was recognized by their own reference to you, as “the mate.”

“Is that all?” Maddalyn hurried you, “I’d rather not linger on this…sort of talk.”

She was stonewalling you- she’d said nothing you didn’t already know, and only told you not to be concerned about anything. Was that really acceptable?

>Continue. Ask questions with more pressure to them. (Such as?)
>It was no use. She wouldn’t say anything, and you didn’t want to upset her. Change the subject. (To what?)
>Other?
>>
>>5307586
>Continue. Ask questions with more pressure to them. (We were told by Mathilda to ask about three things. The fate of Maddalyn's mother and her final day/words, how/why Maddalyn gave Mathilda her scars, and finally, about the grave beneath the manor. I think we can settle for the first and a the third as well as a final question regarding her research. Is she keeping it from us for Richter's safety or because she's doing things Richter might not approve of? Cause if it's actually the later, she needs to know that she can not only trust us with anything, but rely on Richter to have her back as a good husband should.)
Hold her tight while we ask these questions. Be as affectionate as you can be. I don't want this to feel like an interrogation or anything, but these are pressing questions and Richter would like to move past things as quickly as possible.
We aren't mad and we aren't here to pass judgment. Richter is just deeply concerned.
>>
>>5307586
>Continue. Ask questions with more pressure to them. (Such as?)

Tell her about Mathilda confronting us at the station when we first got back. If she doesn't want to tell Richter fine, but she'd better settle that herself with her sister then.
>>
>>5307591
+1, we're getting married, her problems are Richter's problems and vice versa. Whatever skeletons in the closet may be hurtful and rough but let's face it together.
>>
>>5307586
>Continue. Ask questions with more pressure to them. (Such as?)

The Zvchelle sure as hell concerns me. Why did it attack us? Does this have to do with your project or the mark? What if something like that attacks again?
The pissy albino mystic said Richter doesn't have a mark. Is he lying or has something changed?

Do you know half the reason we get involved in wizard bullshit? It's because we stumble into it unprepared and kept in the dark of what's going on.
She cannot be so naive to believe that we won't interact with it again. If she is willing to share then it's time to fess some things up as well. Like how we got possessed into the Crown Prince and the fight between Poltergeist and Yva.

Those are things quite literally life threatening and ignorance won't protect us.

Also make sure to tell her if we haven't already that we made the deal with Poltergeist and he's going to collect the Well of Souls or whatever someday.

>>5307555
Long suspected that she is completely infertile and half of these experiments might just be her excuse to find a way to bear children. Why else is she taking sperm samples? This would rock the entire basis of their noble marriage. Maybe it's better to confront it before the ceremony. I sure as hell don't want to be the one to start that Other? vote though.
>>
>>5307591
+1, be as transparent as possible. Who knows, maybe we are better off not knowing.
>>
>>5307586
>Other?
I want children. Can your womb bear our children?

Ask while looking her dead in the eye and grabbing her shoulders.
>>
>>5307586
Seconding >>5307591

>>5307620
I have the same suspicion and I have no idea what to do about it, however I don't think it's a good idea to confront her about it abruptly so consider this a vote against >>5307710
>>
>>5307620
How dare you.
It's been a long time theory for many of us for a long time, but there's an unspoken rule that we do not, under any circumstances, in or out of character, speak about it. Lest we manifest it into this world and make it real.
Is it maximum cope? Unironically yes.
But shut up anyway!

>>5307710
No!
>>
>>5307586
Supporting >>5307591 and >>5307620. The way to we've gotten results out of Maddy in the past has been through incentive and maintaining her faith. If there's anything we can do now to keep her comfortable or pay her back later for opening up to us, we've got to promise we'll to do it.
Don't keep any secrets from her in return, if she asks. If she tells us to do (or, more likely, not do) something after we get our answers, we've got to follow through.
We can't let this just be a one way flow of information.
>>
>>5307591
>>5307596
>>5307635
>>5307775
>>5307875
Try to push through this as gently as possible- it's already rough enough, but these things must at least be brought up.

>>5307592
The younger sister- and that familial business.

>>5307620
>>5307775
>>5307875
You cannot remain ignorant, if she wants you to be safe.
Also yes she's been informed that the deal is made.

Writing.
>>
Maddalyn didn’t want you to press on with this. She wanted you to do as you were doing before, and not pry, but that wasn’t something you could do anymore. Not with so much built up. You had to put on more pressure- and not be so readily warded off. You wrapped your arms tighter around her, crossing your other over her chest.

“It is not all.” Maddalyn said nothing- though all that needed to be expressed was told in how rigid she had become. “I will not judge you, if you are afraid of that. I won’t be angry with you, even if the answers to these questions I have aren’t ones I like. If you do not want to linger, I only ask that you consider that. Consider that, when something comes up that might be related to this, I won’t be protected by ignorance of what’s going on.” She was still silent. “When I came back here from Netilland, your younger sister found me at the train station. She told me to ask you certain questions.”

Maddalyn laughed hollowly. “Hah. Of course she’s the one to put you up to this. Why did you bother speaking with her? She wants nothing good for me.”
“If it’s merely provocation, that is fine. I want to know, though, and she seemed quite serious about it. She showed me her arms. They looked like they had the same injuries as Hilda has, and she said that you did it to her. Is that true? She wanted me to ask you why, as well.”

“She knows why.”

“But I do not.” You lifted a hand to stroke Maddalyn’s hair, “I said I would not judge. It was when you were thirteen years old- it has been so long since then.”

Maddalyn hesitated. Stayed quiet, but she did clear her throat and speak. “I…I did do it. I was angry with her. Furious. I wanted to hurt her as much as she had hurt me…Er, but, I didn’t mean for it to be so bad, but, I had only just learned how to do such things.”

“What did she do?” you asked. What could Mathilda have done? She was only seven years old at the time.

“She told father about mmm…something I’d done.”

“…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Maddalyn curled tighter, “I did it. I regret it. Is that the answer you wanted? About how she can’t be groomed and taken advantage of by an older man because her arms are burnt black?” There was an edge of hostility in her voice- she was not happy about Mathilda talking to you- let alone telling you to ask about this. Her arms moved around- you felt that she was fiddling with her fingers.
>>
“That’s neither here nor there,” you said, “There is more she asked me to ask you. She talked about your mother- how she had contracted a terrible fever. She wanted me to ask you what she spoke of in her final days, while the fever was-“

“Do not,” Maddalyn said with frigid ice in her tone, “Ask about that. She had no right to tell you to ask that. She does not even remember those days, she was so young. She only wants to cause me pain, through you.”

“I only-“

“I can’t express in words how abominable a question that is,” Maddalyn warned again, “I will not answer it, and I’ll pretend it was not even asked, until I next see Mathilda and gouge her face, so she looked like your horrid retinue.”

“Maddalyn,” you touched her cheek, “Please.”

“…She must have told you to ask more. Get it out of the way.”

“Only one more thing from her,” you said quietly in her ear. You didn’t like her being so distressed- but knew no other way to tell her it was all alright besides trapping her against you. That was what you had to do now- if she was not convinced that you were willing to stand beside her, damn the consequences. Even if she made it hard to do so, keeping you in the dark. “She asked me to ask you, to show me your mother’s grave.”

Maddalyn twitched. “Why? That’s…not any secret place. There is a family graveyard, outside the city.”

It had been a slip of the tongue- an assumption you made, that the grave was Maddalyn’s mother’s, Miriam Von Blum. Yet…it wasn’t? “I thought it was under the manor,” you said, “Mathilda asked that you show me the grave under the manor.”

Maddalyn’s breath stilled suddenly, and she froze like frost on grass. She choked, and struggled to spit out a plain denial- “Th-there…there is no grave under the manor.”

“Why would she say there was one?”

“To hurt me,” Maddalyn sniffed, her voice cracking, “Don’t talk to her. Don’t ask things she tells you to. She’ll put lies in the truth to better arm you to strike at me. How could you ask these things, Richter? What could you think they might do besides hurt me? Have I angered you so?”

“Of course not,” you said to Maddalyn, slowly and softly, though strained- as there had still been scarcely any true answers. Maybe she could be yet coaxed. “Of course I am not asking these to hurt you. I’m asking because you are to be my wife. There should be no secrets between us- not from you to I, nor the other way around. I will spill whatever I have hidden- no matter what, we stand together, after all. I cannot protect you or myself if I am not treated as what I am. Your most staunch and steadfast ally…”

Though you could not think of anything Maddalyn might demand of you that she didn’t already know. That she wasn’t already told, besides a couple of things you’d not kept as secrets, but merely deigned to not distract her with.
>>
“You want to ask more, then,” Maddalyn said dejectedly, and you wiped a finger under her eye, swept away a tear.

“I do. For both of our sakes,” you wasted no time, “The Devourer. The Zvchelle. Why did it attack us? Is it because of the mark? Or because of the project you’re involved in?”

“Neither.”

“So it just wanted to eat us?”

“It wanted me,” Maddalyn admitted, “I know because it was talking…about me…n-no, I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of my eye…eyes.”

Yet that couldn’t be all, could it? “About the mark. I wanted to say- I know I don’t have one. The man called Netanel, down below- he said I did not have one. Said I wouldn’t have been allowed near where they were if I had one. Why did you say I had one?”

“I-I…” Maddalyn sputtered, “I…”

“I know you said it to keep me away from your work, your research. That’s behind us. I just want to ask now…answer this one, at least. Why must I be kept away? Is it truly for my safety? Or because you believe I would disapprove of it? I said it and I meant it- I am beside you. It’s alright to tell me. Any good husband will have their wife’s back- and I intend to do that. You can trust me with anything.”

Maddalyn touched your arm, and did not say anything for a moment. “I disagree,” she said after thinking, “I think you should trust when I say you should not inquire. When I try to keep you away from something for a reason. If you insist on it regardless of what I say, it tells me that for all you say that you can be trusted, you don’t trust me. Although…I can say something of it. What I think you’d find…unpleasant.” You braced yourself as she took a long breath, “We source the people from the asylums, like I told you, and prisons for those whom are to be put to death. The detritus of society. Both the most unfortunate and the least desired. They are not suitable to be powerful soldiers in such a state, though. No…they must be changed to fit. They are blended with a more capable spirit, another body, they become, slowly and carefully, chimeras of themselves and another. That other, that they are combined with to become strong and brave knights…is you.”
>>
“…Huh?” Your hold loosened a moment in bewilderment. “Me? I am…” To say the least, you didn’t consider yourself the perfect soldier to be combined with, yet…maybe there was more to it that you simply didn’t understand.

“I took some of your blood,” Maddalyn said, “With that, your presence could be obtained in a minute amount. Enough to base a template off of. The Template Soldiers, as we call them, are turned into…facismiles. Imperfect copies, with incomplete and incoherent memory and mind. That is solved with further treatment, though. The first batch will be ready soon. Ready…for you to take command of them.”

Well. That wasn’t what you expected, at all…yet there was something missing. Emptying out the asylums of the helplessly mad and turning them into copies of you…you could piece together that use of Presence could make somebody different, could change their mind, their body, just not all at once, but…were there not women in asylums, as well? Were they simply passed over? Moreover, was this…rather surprising revelation, really something that was bad enough to insist you not know about?

“I should hope that is enough to sate you,” Maddalyn said lowly, “If you do not mind…that being quite enough, so I may rest. And that you will get up to…whatever you might need to have done. Some of the Territorial Forces officers wished to meet with you about your requests, and a package arrived for you from a Von Graumorgen…”

Perhaps. Though. You couldn’t help but feel there was plenty more, but that you would not be hearing any answers to them from Maddalyn…This had been a heavy piece of truth, yet, it was not linked to something else...not linked to her, like the other matters she refused to answer about were...


>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
>There were things you couldn’t just leave lying. Things that, if there were no answer to be had from Maddalyn’s lips, you would have to investigate yourself… (Such as?)
>Even if she would not answer them, you had to insist on more inquiries- while you were on this track. (?)
>Other?
>>
>>5308392

>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.

We've managed to get something out at least, I think pushing any further right now is going to make her clamp down even more.

Though my fall-back plan if we need to fully understand our in-laws family drama is having a long talk with Lord Von Blum sometime.
>>
>>5308392
>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
>The Template Soldiers
Holy shit. We are this worlds version of Jango Fett.
>>
>>5308392
>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
>>
>>5308392
>There were things you couldn’t just leave lying. Things that, if there were no answer to be had from Maddalyn’s lips, you would have to investigate yourself… (Such as?)
>Her mother's last days. But we need to be very careful, so that no word about it comes back to Maddy.
>Also, say that we still would like to visit her mother's grave, to introduce ourselves so to speak. This should put Maddy at ease somewhat.
>>
>>5308392
>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
>Other? (Try to soothe her worries a bit. We don't want her to go getting into fist fights with her sister over this. In the end questions where asked, only a few were answered and Richter doesn't love his little wife any less.)
I can only imagine the "graves" are either failed Richto Fett soldiers or the victims of the demiphantom.
As for her mother...well I suppose it's best not thinkin about.
Onward and Upward fellas!
>>
>>5308474
+1
>>
>>5308392
>There were things you couldn’t just leave lying. Things that, if there were no answer to be had from Maddalyn’s lips, you would have to investigate yourself… (Such as?)
Her mother
>>
>>5308392
>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
>>
>>5308392
>>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
Well I'm glad she told us some things, but the fact that the answers seem to be wrapped up in even more secrets she isn't willing to tell us about is possibly even more concerning. Hopefully once we're married and spend more time together she'll come to trust us more, but I'm not comfortable with how things currently stand. I think she's hiding things from us that we need to know and it's going to cause trouble later on.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (872 KB, 1211x457)
872 KB
872 KB PNG
>>5308392
>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
>>
>>5308392
>Be thankful that you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge anything at all. Let her fall asleep on you, then go out for business.
Well that is plenty to deal with for now I think, probably best to let things lay for a bit. I can understand Maddy thinking that prying into these things signals a lack of trust, but to a soldier, to be forewarned is to be forearmed. Not knowing something is dangerous and it can get people hurt or killed depending on the situation. Even the best soldier cannot prepare for something they don't even know exists.

That rat Liemanner, this is probably how he "survived" that assassination.
>>
>>5308731
Quality post.
>>
Sorry about the delay, this weekend was particularly busy for me.

>>5308395
>>5308418
>>5308428
>>5308474
>>5308479
>>5308644
>>5308661
>>5308731
>>5308792
What you got is fine...for now. Probably lucky you got as much as that.

>>5308474
>>5308479
Try to dissuade sister wars. Especially since you can't readily tell them apart if they have gloves on.

>>5308457
>>5308508
We need to find out more about that mother.

Writing.

>>5308731
I find it very funny that it seems like the main characters have changed completely by the end.
Though I do wonder how much expectations have changed over time.
>>
Every answer only led to more questions- frustrating, but you were thankful you could get Maddalyn to acknowledge and answer any concerns at all. Was there some reason she didn’t trust you? Was it because you were away so long? Was it any company you kept? The latter…well, yes, but it wasn’t as though she had you pursued by any of her guards, either- she did not trust you with her deeper secrets.

Maybe you could ease them out of her when you were properly married- honeymooning in Paelli, if plans panned out. You couldn’t push it out of your mind, though- you’d just have to try and reserve it for when you could try again. Unless you were to pursue answers yourself…she wouldn’t like it, but how much longer could you not do so, and be proactive at all towards preventing potential tragedy?

“Thank you for your answers,” you said, as you held Maddalyn close, still. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s…important. They say to be forewarned is to be forearmed, after all.”
“Hm.” Maddalyn only hinted a circumstantial disagreement. “I think I need some compensation.” You reached between her legs. “No, no. Ears.”

Her thigh was squeezed anyways. Soft, but smooth and taut. Such an irresistibly gropeable little lady. She said nothing as you went into her ears, probed inwards, licked until she had gone limp. A final little nibble punctuated your time in bed- and you left her to pursue business…though you wondered why none of hers could be yours as well.

-----

The first thing attended to was the package from “Von Graumorgen-“ Von Walen, rather. It felt ridiculous to call him by his new title for some reason. Maybe you ought to cease the formalities and call him Teobaldt like he said. Unless he had decided to change his first name into something even more flowery. The delivery was in an appropriately sized, long box, wrapped in brown paper and string that was dispensed with as soon as you could set it down on something. Indeed, inside the box, cushioned with paper and cloth, was a saber. A rough, beaten metal and stained leather scabbard, with dull black-painted brass fittings on it that shone where the paint had been scraped away, like another sword was beneath the end cap. A plain wooden grip, and single iron handguard that also formed a cross guard with the same piece. It looked…so plain, so ordinary. Yet carved on the grips and the heavy pommel was the Silver Lance- and the name Helman, before he could have presumed to be ennobled, so faded it could barely be seen by any but one who looked closely.
>>
You unsheathed the blade, curious, and it did shine- it had been well cared for. A relief, as you had been expecting to have to polish it. Though the blade was far from perfect. Pitting marred the sides in places, and there were dents and nicks in the edge, but was that not to be expected from a saber that had been used? It was also unlike the straight saber favored by many nobles you had seen wearing swords- it was curved in a sweeping edge- the standard for Light Cavalrymen, more suited for raiding and scouting by their role. Yet such unassuming light mercenary cavalry had charged into a vulnerable part of the Reich’s line at the battle of Messingplatz, and shattered them when Roland II struggled to hold his own rebels’ lines against the Kaiser’s ire. Some said it was sheer force of will and strength of arms, others claimed that the Reich had gotten overconfident and opened a weak spot in their lines attempting to capitalize on success and had gotten unlucky, but the story you liked to believe, that seemed to have the most truth to it, was that Helman and his Silver Lances had been harrying the Imperial forces for days, perhaps weeks before the battle, and he had grown to know them so thoroughly, he could practically read the enemy’s mind as well as having thorough knowledge of what they were marching to battle with, and knowing the land, predicted them opening their lines before they even knew they would.

This saber was the legacy of that. A legacy lost…but now, returned to its rightful owner. All you had to do now was prove as fecund as the mercenary lord…though have more of your descendants survive this time around. Of course, Helman had been so because he had had not only a wife, but two concubines- a headache for when he had been ennobled, as a “concubine” was an exceptional rarity (and potentially a scandal) in the Archduchy even before then, but something that had worked itself out over time anyways. Each of Helman’s “three wives” had their own branch of Von Tracht, but now, there was only yours- and you couldn’t remember which mother you were descended from. It hadn’t been something of more interest to you than your own mother anyways.

A testing swing of the blade- it had been perfectly balanced. Abnormally so. Despite looking so mundane, somebody had worked on it beyond its original make. Was there something special about this blade besides who owned it..? Probably not, you thought as you sheathed the blade again. What Poltergeist had said about men who could see the motions of fate danced through your mind, but you had a strong feeling that there was naught mystical about your ancestor save for what some folk legend already said, for better or worse.
>>
Newly worn at your side, Helman’s sword accompanied you to where you had been summoned by Von Blum’s territorial forces- their army, to put it bluntly, even if they were technically also a part of the Archduchy’s army. They turned out to be requisitioning officers- staff, inquiring about your own requests, though there were also a set of infantrymen waiting, as well. They wore cloth masks on their faces covering all but their eyes, and round woolen caps pulled low- though their eyes did seem different, in appearance if not blank expression.

“Lieutenant Von Tracht,” a staff officer saluted, and you saluted back, as he handed you a folder. “Your promotion will come soon, but until then, we are making preparations for organizing the demi-battalion. Amongst your requests were the modification of obsolete platforms into self-propelled artillery.”

“It was, yes,” you said, opening the folder, “Is that acceptable?”

“It is,” the staff officer pointed to the first page you looked at, “These are the reserve platforms that the territory has. Given that this is a trial of only five vehicles, it has been seen as prudent to have them all be the same type, and same armament, in order to save time and costs.” Presumably they did not want you asking for a smattering of different prototypes and making logistics officers want to shoot themselves.
>>
You nodded, and looked at each one. The LT-24, a light, fast tank design whose documents were leaked by a Grossreich defecting engineer, and duplicated, iterated on, but ultimately, it was being phased out. It was a reliable platform, but from what advise from engineers said on it, the platform was not much fond of extra weight besides what it had been designed for. Otherwise, it could be trusted to be quick and resilient.

Then, the m/24. An older, bulkier design, larger than the m/28, about the same size as the m/32. Being the latter’s predecessor, naturally. It had a confused and clumsy design, having its main gun in its casemate hull and a turret with a machine gun either of 8mm or 13mm type, and looked like an ironclad of old had sprouted treads. Despite its ungainly look and indecisive purpose, it could handle weight well, and modification of its forward hull and apertures, or even cutting away of the upper hull altogether, showed promise for the installation of heavier guns. Though it was a slower beast, with a cruising speed only intimidating to an obese jogger.

Roughly in the middle was the option of the m/28, not yet a reserve vehicle, but it had been decided, fit to be phased out or modified to be upgraded. You were well familiar with this vehicle, and it sat roughly in the middle between the LT-24 and the m/24. Not as swift as the former, not as strong as the latter.

Then, the choice of cannon. Eight centimeter howitzers were an easy choice, but not so easy to actually procure as five centimeter ones, though such puny mountain gun derived pieces were not what you imagined placing on these. Ten centimeter howitzers could be drawn from heavier stock of regimental artillery- though those would most certainly strain the lighter platforms, and preclude any extra armor being installed on them, if you wanted it.

An interesting potential substitute was the use of not eight centimeter howitzers, but of eight centimeter anti-aircraft guns, which were in far wider use…

>Select a platform, primary weapon, and state a level of armor. Bear in mind that a vehicle that is too overweight will be rejected- as it simply will not work. The LT-24 is particularly sensitive to being overweight. A decent rule to follow is that anything bigger than an 8 centimeter howitzer is more weight than anything save the m/24 can handle while also having armor. You are not necessarily restricted to what has been listed- but things off that list may be hard to get, or unavailable.
>>
>>5310944
Putting that 8 cm AA gun on a vehicle sounds very promising, and I'd love to become a pioneer of Tank Destroyers, but I don't think we have precedent for choosing it when we're intending to create Artillery vehicles. With that in mind:
>m/28
>10 cm howitzer

m/28 for mobility, and 10 cm for their ease of procurement and operational effectiveness. Given these are intended to be artillery, I don't see the need for these to be well armored, so I value the mobility and the gun more than the protection.
>>
>>5310956
This seems like a fine plan.
>>
>>5310944
I havnt been keeping up with the spg talk's but unless we want some sort of assault gun, we could probably rule out the heavier, slower hull.

While outdated now, the M/28 platform is still capable in other roles so I'd favour stripping everything off the LT-24 and putting the 10cm gun on it. Its not like the fighting compartment needs to be fully enclosed.
8cm gun works as well if other constraints make the 10cm unsuitable on the lighter hull.
>>
>>5310976
I'd like the LT-24, but I'm not sure it's possible to put the 10 cm on it, also,
>but from what advise from engineers said on it, the platform was not much fond of extra weight besides what it had been designed for
makes me think we're going to have maintenance issues if we pick a big gun with it.
>>
>>5310944
Supporting >>5310956
the venerable m/28 will live on forever!
>>
>>5310956
+1
>>
>>5310944
>m/28
>10 cm howitzer
If we have to strip any crew protection to get the gun on there so be it. I imagine keeping it away from any small arms fire worth putting armor on it to resist, and anything bigger is going to go through anyway unless we sacrifice speed and go for the bigger model just for more armor. Maybe we can even see if the smoke launchers we mentioned to the gearheads could be put on these too. Anything starts taking shots and them and they could pop smoke and scoot to somewhere safer.
>>
>>5310944
>m/24
>Double-barreled ten centimeter howitzers
>>
>>5310944
>m/24
>10cm howitzer
>Light armour

Sure it might be slower but I suspect with a large gun like the 10cm the large hull will help with things like ammo capacity and gun ergonomics, while speed can be mitigated somewhat by cutting down on armour
>>
>>5310956
Seconding
>>
>>5311037
We may want to make sure that the reverse gear(s) are suitable for that as well since being cripple by that is also something to consider with casemates and emplacements.
>>
>>5310979
Behold this monstrosity (not that I'm advocating for it)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/10.5_cm_leFH_16_Gesch%C3%BCtzwagen_Mk_VI_736_(e)
>>
>>5311180
beautiful
>>
>>5310956
>>5310964
>>5310981
>>5310989
>>5311083
>>5311037
m/28 with the big gun on it. Armor is only a suggestion- power is its own protection.

>>5310976
Stretch that platform to its limits. LT-24 with 10 centimeter.

>>5311068
The heavier platform, with the big gun.

>>5311063
Dakka.

Writing.

>>5311180
Imagine being so bored by occupation duty and fed up with pulling shit that you scrounge up all the scrap of the Battle of France and turn it into frankenstein war machines.
What a unit.
>>
>>5311323

>King Tigers and other German wunderwaffe: I sleep

>21st Panzer's circus of captured conversions: real shit
>>
The decision was made, filling in your requirements, to utilize m/28 chassis to mount ten centimeter guns- with measures made to lighten the vehicles where possible. They wouldn’t need more than minimal armor protection, with the role you had in mind- large cannon able to shoot off rounds and relocate before anything could respond. In case they did encounter direct combat, though, you did note to add defensive measures such as smoke launchers, perhaps a defensive machine gun mount somewhere. It seemed the most balanced choice, even if m/28s were not as disposable now as either of the 1924 model vehicles, whom were each nearly a decade old in original design.

“Thank you,” the staff officer said as you returned the folder and form. “So then. The other matter.”

“These men, I take it,” you said, looking at the five masked fellows. “Are they to be assigned to me?”

“Yes. Their platoon is presently in the final stages of their field training and exercises,” the officer said, “Their training is left up to their officers, there is no need for you to worry about them right now, but said officers also thought you would want to meet some of them. Considering that they are…unique sorts. Dismiss them when you are done. They’ll find their way back.” The staff officers left you with the five men, who still stood at stiff attention, silent the whole while.

“Alright,” you saluted to them, and they in unison saluted back…in the same way you did. “I am Lieutenant Richter Von Tracht. For now. When I am Major, I will be your commanding officer. So,” you looked at all of them, “What are your names?” The first one to the left was recognized first- and they seemed to recognize that, as only one spoke. The one you regarded now.

“Arne One One Five.” He said…in a Strosstadt accent, though a stiff one, like somebody pretending to speak a dialect they weren’t particularly familiar with.

“…We’ll keep that to Arne,” you said, looking to the next, who answered adroitly.

“Arne One One Six.”

Oh…this would be…this sort of deal?

“There is no need for code names,” you said knowing what these people must be, now. You wouldn’t have gone down this line of questioning had Maddalyn not told you about them, but… “What is your real name? Just your first, if you want.”

The men looked at each other with snapped movements, then back to you. They seemed oddly uncomfortable, despite how stiff their mannerisms were. The one who you’d asked his name of, though…

“Richter.”
>>
Coincidental, but there were other people with your name, after all. No need to dread yet. “Good. Yours, One One Five?”

One One Five was stiff, reluctant. “I am Richter.”

“We can’t all have the same name,” you snapped on the back of that immediately, “Are you all going to say that your name is Arne or Richter?” It had been a joke, but you should have known the answer- the silence, of even these odd men knowing when not to answer in the affirmative. “…I see,” you relented, and loosened your shoulders, put your hands in your pockets, sighing. You…didn’t really know what to think of this. How to handle it. Their gazes grew more unnerving by the moment- they were expectant, observing, of you and everything you did. Their eyes followed you as you tested a pace to the side.

They weren’t all the same. They had minor variations in height, in build, and as you observed, their eyes, but you had a feeling that they all wore masks for a reason…even if they wouldn’t share your half-burnt face. If they were to go out into the field, they certainly couldn’t refer to themselves by such odd things as what they claimed to be their names when first asked- as though they had serial numbers. Though you presumed that whomever was handling this would have thought of that before they might actually go anywhere…

>Ask these soldiers anything?
>You were told to inspect them. Inspect you would- though they’d have to do something… (What?)
>Dismiss these…things, immediately. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to interact with them too much.
>Other?
>>
>>5311354


>Ask these soldiers anything?
How many of you are there that you know of?

Check how much of Richter's pre-Trance skills these clones have inherited, if any. Obviously they've been trained as infantrymen, but can they operate a tank instinctively for example? What about all the military knowledge he's lost?
>>
>>5311354
>Ask these soldiers anything?
Ask them where they are up to with their training, and if they can read.

I have a feeling that we're going to need to baby them for quite awhile, probably in Ethics, Initiative and problem solving, otherwise they will likely run into issues the second they stop getting fed the answers by a "higher power"


potentially going on to have units/ survivors that have seen combat return to impart leanings for future units may be worth consideration, where possible, so we don't have to do this over again.
>>
>>5311354
>Ask these soldiers anything?
I do wonder when this template of Richter was taken. Ask if any fought rebels in the Blumlands, Valsteners at the border, bandits in Sosaldt, that sort of thing to try and narrow down a window. I would hope they all have the guns skill Richter had at first and definitely not what he has now. I also wonder if they have all Richter's memories exactly, or if I needed ones have gotten covered over. Do they know what happened to Signy Vang's hands, or are any familiar with Poltergeist?

>Catcha V2SKY
Hopefully they won't be wunderweapons only good at killing civilians.
>>
>>5311354
>Ask these soldiers anything?
Ask what they think their last names are. Ask about their taste in women. Ask them each to tell one story about themselves. Ask them about their hobbies. Ask if they would like new names. Give them new names based on above info regardless of answer. Have at least one of them take off their mask.

>You were told to inspect them. Inspect you would- though they’d have to do something… (Find the nearest shooting range and have them go for it. See if Richter's crackshot live on in these flesh automatons piloted by ginger magic.)
>>
>>5311354
>Ask these soldiers anything?
What trait makes each of you different?
You are the tallest so you we shall call the Tallarn.
Give yourselves a name on your speciality.
If this will not work you will be given a colour as name and I expect you to wear a small coloured circle or another figure on your cap or on your helmet.
>You were told to inspect them. Inspect you would- though they’d have to do something… Combat capabilities.
>>
>>5311639
>Inspect you would- though they’d have to do something… Combat capabilities.
>They all simultaneously kick eachother in the nuts and fall down
>>
>>5311737
I don't think Richter ever learned that tactic
>>
>>5311352
>you saluted to them, and they in unison saluted back…in the same way you did.
This is fucked. Thanks Maddy, love ya babe.
What happens when a bunch of them die and the corpses all look the same?
>>5311354
There may be a very real danger to interrogating them too much.
Do not ask about their names, memories or give them callsigns. I feel like the more we try to humanize them, the more likely they go bugfuck nuts on us.

If you want to undo their conditioning we need to go talk to their witch mother.
Let's stick to the physical conditioning and their knowledge rather than memory.

>You were told to inspect them. Inspect you would- though they’d have to do something… (What?)
The suggestions of testing their abilities is a good one, especially as they relate to Richter's former strengths. Are they good at hunting, tracking, shooting, tankery?

If they all have his considerable knowledge of history and tactics then we should keep one nearby as a walking encyclopedia. Use him to try and restart Richter's own knowledge gaps as he would've remembered them. Hell, we watch them shoot and mimic their movements exactly which may just give us the jumpstart we need to recover some.

>>5311852
He did try it once on Gnashed Nads of the Nightbeasts, it just got him thrown through a piano.
>>
>>5311366
How many of you are there?

>>5311381
Can you read?

>>5311483
Probe their memories.

>>5311615
How do you like your bitches?

>>5311639
You all need different names.

>>5312278
Show some restraint in trying to get them to...remember, anything.

Writing.

>>5311483
A ballistic missile is a spaceship that has been denied its dream.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (550 KB, 1101x1500)
550 KB
550 KB JPG
Apologies for the delay, mix of not giving myself sleep, a lot of time passing in the update, and wanting to think things through is making this late.

In the meantime, I have this. I don't really like to show pencil sketches much because this is a quest, not my drawing blog, but in the time I get to good off during work I try and doodle. So this is (at least a first go at, before digital work) an item on the list of summer requests.

Strossvald is rather conservative with swimwear- but not much moreso than most places on the continent. Hilda is wearing something relatively typical- though maybe a bit lower cut on the brassiere piece than usual. Frankly, it's more than she'd usually wear swimming, anyways- though she'd only do that if she was sure she wouldn't be seen.
>>
Disturbing as they and some implications were, you couldn’t help but be curious- they weren’t trying to rip your soul out and eat it, and you’d had conversations with things that ate your spirit and admitted to it. What could be found out from these Vorlagersoldaten. Did they know the same things you did? Probably better not to tempt that. After all…they were not automatons. They felt quite unmechanical discomfort when asked certain questions, and it would be better not to test what might happen if you probed too deeply.
A simple question, first. Maybe something to measure a sense of humor. “So, men. What sort of women do you like?”

“Blonde.” Said the first. Then the next said the same. Then the next.

“Never mind,” you cut them off grumpily. That didn’t mean anything. They weren’t duplicates after all. “You can read, I take it?” A round of affirmatives. A sort of question that might sound irritating to a grown man- but if these people came from mental asylums, their minds might have been too shattered to learn in the first place. “Do you people have any sorts of hobbies? Things you like to do?”

“To fight for Von Blum, and Von Tracht.” The first one answered for them. It sounded like a coached answer.

“Do you not like to play games? To hunt?”

“We hunt in the deep,” the third one replied helpfully, but you had no idea what he meant by that.

It wouldn’t be wise to test this next thing…but test it you must. Just for one question. To see how alike you they really were. “I want to know who you have fought, in the past. Have you ever fought other soldiers? In a tank, perhaps?”

It set in slow, but you began to regret needling them there, as they looked to one another, and saw no answers they wanted in each other’s eyes. One began to have tears well in his eyes, another slowly shifted his arms and held his head in his hands. The most affected fell to his knees, shaking, a gurgle of despair in his throat, before he was helped up by one of his fellows more firm of nerve.

“We are told,” the helper said as he rose, “To not think of the before. The past is behind. Ever since we were lifted up, from the depths. There is nothing from then, or beyond. Only after.”

“We have survived the test,” another said with odd reverence, recovering his wits, “The madness, the dark, the deep abyss where sinful souls are cast. We are proven worthy for not succumbing to the depths, and are born anew…”

“Sorry,” you said, making a note not to push into any shared memories you might have- who could say if they did, but whatever it was, it very much disagreed with them to remember. “The depths?”

“Far below the world, the sky,” one pointed down, “Where we begin. Where we are judged worthy to be raised up.”
>>
Quite enough of that, you thought. These were not the questions to ask this lot. Rather, you ought to properly test them in ability, now. “You are trained in firearms, educated in history, knowledgeable of tracking and outdoorsmanship? Come. We will find a range to properly evaluate that.”

-----

It couldn’t have been very long since these soldiers were made, but in the small time that they’d had, you noticed that they were especially impressive for that short period. Firstly, you tested their skill at arms. Excellent with rifles- at one hundred, three hundred, five hundred meters, and without the aid of optics. They were not perfect, but they were…good. About as good as you had been, maybe. A sad feeling, as you tried to observe how they used their weapons, asked mildly about small advice, but they did not know how to give it.

Any historical questions proved muddled. You couldn’t tell if they had particular knowledge or not, as they seemed conflicted whenever asked to speak of the past. Though, when working as a team, their coordination was astounding- when you randomly declared that their team leader had been shot dead, they immediately adapted, a fantastic drill for even good soldiers let alone fresh recruits. Something else was up with them, surely…they hadn’t finished training, they claimed, but it seemed as though they had a familiarity with anything they would have learned in basic training anyways.

You’d seen enough then. After a last maneuver drill, you dismissed them…though one lingered. From his eyes and subtly shorter height, you picked him out as the one who had fallen to his knees before. He didn’t leave at the same time as the others- so you took a chance.

“Hey. You,” you said to him, “I need you to show me something for a moment.” A point to your own face. “Take that mask down. I want to see your face.”

He was extremely hesitant, but his shaking hand pulled down the scarf- and you didn’t know what you expected, but you still had to blink, look away and back, to make sure what you were seeing was the truth. It wasn’t a perfect copy of your face- and that’s what made it even more unnerving. Parts of the cheeks, the brow, the chin- they were just slightly off, like somebody had either stretched parts out or crushed them down, in order to better match them. Not in a crude way, but in a fashion that was utterly uncanny. Like looking into a dirty, cracked mirror.
>>
“We all look alike,” he said to your stare, without prompting. “We are told not to think of the past. From before we were lifted back to the light, to serve, as duty demands. We think that it’s what our ancestors would want, but we think that, despite not remembering that, without it all being a mess. So we don’t…”

“That may be for the best.” You didn’t know how to help these people. Or if you should.

“But we dream,” the man who looked like you, sounded like you, but was ever so slightly himself, said. “We see places, people. Things dear to us, for some reason. I don’t know if it’s all real, or another illusion of the depths…” the Vorlagen said, pushing his mask back over his face, “But I want it to be real.”

No more was asked, or said, as he jogged to catch up with the others marching in synchronized, lock step.

-----

Four days later- March 25th, 1933

There was no reason to feel anxious. This wasn’t even to be one of the “rowdier” courts- with Barnabas Von Blum hosting it, nothing would occur that was not tolerable to the curmudgeonly authority. The people should not have been any more intimidating than Netillian Kommissariat officers or Sosaldtian brigand-mercenary chiefs. There were certainly no battles going on.

Your arm was curled around Maddalyn’s, as you drew yourself up to enter the ballroom where everybody would be meeting and seeing one another before scattering about to socialize. Food and drink were elsewhere from the dancing, for example, and you were told that rooms had been set aside for those into calmer sorts of recreation, such as cards, talk, and philosophizing. Though you’d be expected to make yourself present wherever possible- as this was a debut, after all, and the guest of honor.

So Maddalyn repeated to you as you stood before the door.

“Just walk with me,” she said, tugging you forward, “And don’t do anything stupid or inappropriate, unless you want that to be your reputation forever.”

Inappropriate presumably meaning to not let your hands wander. Though the more conservative court of Blumsburgh was no place for something as racy as, say, that golden dress Anya had worn in Ellowie, so long as one wasn’t too controversial, there was a relatively lax dress code. Though that applied much more so for Maddalyn, of course- given that, despite their thorny relationship, she was the territorial lord’s daughter.

Her choice of dress was much more varied than your options were.

>Wear the standard blue Strossvald Uniform. The horsehair had gone unused for too long- and you were back in the Archduchy now, and to be part of the army here- you ought to look it.
>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…
>Other?
Also, for your date-
>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
>>
>>5313556
>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…

With our progenitor's sword? All the better to proudly display our family's heritage.

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
I'll leave it to other anons, don't really have any strong opinions on this.
>>
File: dance.jpg (418 KB, 1764x1934)
418 KB
418 KB JPG
>>5313556
>Wear the standard blue Strossvald Uniform. The horsehair had gone unused for too long- and you were back in the Archduchy now, and to be part of the army here- you ought to look it.

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
Something sleek that covers everything up to the neck but the arms and clings tightly to the body, especially around the hips.
That or some sorta rendition of this classic...without the giga heels.
>>
>>5313556
>“Blonde.” Said the first. Then the next said the same. Then the next.
Perfect.

>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…

We're wearing a porcelain mask covering up horrible scars and a mechanical hand. I don't think we CAN get more rogueish.

Sure this will probably mean some asshole might mock us or challenge to a duel of honor just to prove how tough they are but I figure they'd do that anyway since we're going straight to Major.

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
Transparent black high slit leg dress. What? We'll match.
>so long as one wasn’t too controversial
I mean, silver metallic evening gown. Straps resting on the upper arms.
>>
>>5313556
>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
I'm not too fussy about the choice of dress, but if there's some way to incorporate her mother's scarf with it, that would be nice.

>>5313492
Does this make the existence of coconuts canon?
>>
>>5313556
>>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…
I would rather come off a blooded mercenary than a double promoted lieutenant barely into their career.

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
I would like something silver or blue, though I feel like the blue would be spoiled a bit with it being what we saw Mathilda wearing at the train station. Maybe something that leaves the collar tastefully vulnerable that an accessory can provide cover for.

>>5313492
I like how the hair looks sketched out like this.
>>
>>5313492
...I don't mind this being your drawing blog, so long as it's related.

>>5313556
>Wear the standard blue Strossvald Uniform. The horsehair had gone unused for too long- and you were back in the Archduchy now, and to be part of the army here- you ought to look it.

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
Don't care as long as it's not too raunchy and looks nice, this is a formal event with a conservative atmosphere.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (3.57 MB, 2158x1398)
3.57 MB
3.57 MB PNG
>>5313556
>Other?
Wear your family's colors in a custom made officer's suit, complete with sword in tow

>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
A light purple full ball gown with long silver gloves, a tiara adorned with light sapphires and matching earrings, and light pink ankle strap heels

>>5313492
The proportions are a bit off, giving her an off, flat look, especially around the waist area. The left leg, one in front, should be bigger, which is throwing the perspective off. The bottoms outline of the left-leg, right-side suit should end higher up on the thigh/hip in the back. The mid-section where her belly button would be should have more of a twist to her right to match the breasts and should give more depth. Her right breast should be bigger based on the perspective. The shoulders are too small in proportion to her head. They should be a bit bigger/longer. Her head should be turned more to the right. That is an extreme pose you have her in.There's not enough hair on the right side of her head to match what's shown on the left side of her head. It might look just as nice to have all the hair behind her shoulders. I found some photos for you to reference.

I notice you tend not to draw ears. Why is that?
>>
>>5313556
>>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…
von Tracht is back bb
>>
>>5313556
>Don your black Silver Lance uniform. You might not have been a part of it now, but since you’d fought alongside them, it was your right to wear it. Even if they were considered more rogueish…
>What sort of dress do you want Maddalyn to wear?
Something light blue and frilly
>>
>>5313558
>>5313577
>>5313653
>>5313670
>>5313812
>>5313895
Silver Lance Black.

>>5313566
>>5313678
Strossvald Blue.

>>5313691
Have a pimp suit made.

>>5313566
Tight fit.

>>5313577
Sheer- wait, too blonde. Silver.

>>5313670
Silver, then.

>>5313653
Try to get that worn out scarf on there.

>>5313691
Full princess attire.

>>5313895
Something to match the underwear.

Writing.


>>5313653
>Does this make the existence of coconuts canon?
Of course coconuts exist, but more importantly, palms. The oceans being blocked off by the Maelstroms brings the imagination of some botanists forth regarding them in particular- after all, coconuts have a tendency to drift on the ocean and spread to faraway lands (though the distance is uncertain- in real life they can't really drift across the entire ocean, as far as I know), would they not potentially be adrift in the midst of a Grand Maelstrom? The less stable sorts insist on the existence of an "Albino Coconut," deformed by the Maelstroms in the same way as the land it mars, but still able to germinate, and create something completely remarkable.

This is seen as the plant equivalent to, say, a jackelope, or a tsuchinoko.

>>5313691
>Perspective
I appreciate the feedback, though I hope it's understood that looking up references in the space in between being busy at work isn't exactly practical. My pencil stuff tends to be absolutely riddled with mistakes I notice later. I'll keep this in mind when I draw over it again, though.
>I notice you tend not to draw ears. Why is that?
Complete coincidence.
>>
Adorning you was your Silver Lances uniform- black, with blue trim, collar, and cuffs, but otherwise the same as the uniform of the Archduchy besides the cap, which was a brimmed sort with a steel plate emblazoned with the emblem of the Lances upon it. Your familial sigil. It had been stitched, cleaned and pressed as best as it could be, but it still bore a few marks of abuse upon it- battle scars it shared with you. This was what you wanted to present yourself as- a fearsome mercenary, a seasoned veteran of a proud unit, not just any other upstart low-noble officer about to be even more out of his depth.

Maddalyn, meanwhile, could do no wrong in this court, and wouldn’t think of coming close to such. She wore a softly reflective silver dress accented in blue- a complement to your own hues. The front reached up to just below her collarbones, with draping loops that went around her arms, and the back cut down to the middle of her spine- though you’d prefer it if it rode above her hips, but that suggestion to her outfit had been either forgotten or ignored for this case. Ruffled frills hung down from her waist, and waved about the bottom of it, down to her ankles. She wore heels, as well- not too high, but enough to make her Anya’s height- to wit, able to be danced with like a woman, rather than towering over her and reaching down to do anything at all. Gloves of the same sort of cloth as her dress went from her fingertips to her shoulders. The crest of her family was present at her throat, and a silver tiara with bright blue sapphires rested on her head in place of the usual hairband. You’d requested she be showy for your debut, after all.

“No one here will look like you,” Maddalyn said as she stroked your arm, “I wish I could see how you stand out among them.”

“Fitting for my company.”

With that, you made your way for the ballroom where the reception was being hosted, servants in blue and silver bowing as they opened the double doors.

Within, you saw the Lord Von Blum and his two sons atop a podium, not quite speaking yet, but discussing something, until you noticed Bastian point to you. Lord Von Blum nodded, and raised a hand- the musicians, who had been playing a contemplative pipe and violin tune, let their song fade as the territorial lord went to the podium proper, and called for the attention of the assembled guests.

“Welcome, one and all,” he announced, “Subjects, guests, and honored fellows, to my manor at Blumsburgh. We gather as friends, for the sake of recreation and communication, yes, but also, to honor the return of my soon-to-be son in law, here again after serving with our nation’s most elite troops. Descendant of Helman the Silver Lance, who broke the Reich at Messingplatz. Ladies, Gentlemen. Major Richter Von Tracht.”

A polite applause for you- though you looked about skeptically, seeing if any would be affronted by your rapid ascent…though you thought you well paid for it by now.
>>
“This social court is now opened,” Von Blum declared with a spread of his cuffed, gloved hands, “This room will be cleared out, now, and we will readjourn in one hour, for the first dance by our most honored guest, and family.”

“They were waiting for us?” You whispered to Maddalyn, leaning down.

“Yes, but they will have no problem with that. We were not late,” Maddalyn reassured you, “Come along, I want to have some wine. There’s a sweet white with apple infusion I would like to try.”

“You’re getting started early.” She was rather a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

“Only one half-glass,” Maddalyn pouted at you, “There are children in attendance, after all. Besides. I haven’t danced before. Have you?”

“Not at a Strossvald court, no.”

Maddalyn squinted at you.

“Formal events, where I was expected to.”

“I’d rather have been the first…” Maddalyn sulked, “At least I was the first to kiss you, yes?”

“Yes.” A small lie. No reason to speak of the real first (on the mouth), that occurred without your consent anyways. “I didn’t know before, but I think I can do alright at it now. I won’t be an embarrassment to you, at least.” It would all be in your interactions- you’d have to speak for yourself, rather than hiding behind Maddalyn’s skirts like a child. Though she’d given you some basic advice- in this court, nobody would be screaming insults or trying to cause a scene, unless the parties involved requested that they step outside. Here, any insults would be veiled, perhaps hidden under false praise. There would be people who would prod at you on purpose simply to evaluate you. Suffice it to say, overreacting to any perceived slight would embarrass your fiancée as easily as placing your hand on her bottom and squeezing it in front of whoever you were talking to.

As Maddalyn had picked out a small, long stemmed crystal glass of sparkling wine, you lingered, eyeing those around you. There were splashes of daring here and there, but mostly, the dress here was modest, and shows of wealth were made in statements of very few, or individual pieces. An armlet, a necklace, a chain, cufflinks. Barnabas Von Blum evidently hated to be ostentatious- or perhaps, that had a knock-on effect, where guests would rather not appear wealthier than the Von Blums attendant, for concern of affronting the powerful family.
>>
“The guest of honor,” an airy voice mused beside you, and you looked over, seeing a mussy black-haired fellow, appearing in his late twenties, standing beside you and sipping at a dark red wine. He wore a black jacket and equally dark purple waistcoat, a carved onyx ringed with diamonds in the shape of a curl of branches on his breast pocket. His pale skin standing out more for his choice of fashion, he had dark circles under sunken, amber eyes. “Von Blutenstein, yes? I am Count Marzen Von Schwarzenkranz. My family oversees coal mining and processing in our lands, under Von Blum. Not a pretty fief, but a necessary one in this age of industry.”

Marzen Von Schwarzenkranz was a figure Maddalyn had warned would try to be troublesome to any newcomer. A mischief maker in courts- though no serious threat. Rumor had it that he was a spy of sorts, collecting information on various figures in courts and documenting them, but nobody had an idea of for who. He did nothing to dissuade such rumors- save for that he was absolutely no part of the Intelligence Office, and you believed that. Especially since, if he were, he’d know that you were a part of it yourself.

“A man from the capital is well acquainted with coal smoke, I’m sure,” Von Schwarzenkranz continued, each word cast from the tip of his tongue like a tossed feather, “Well accustomed to dirty rumors, dirty streets, but that is not reflective of blood, is it, Von Blutenstein? Try as we might, we can hardly control how we are conceived, after all. We eventually drift to where we belong, anyways…”

He insisted on referring to you by your mother’s name…

>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
>Apologize and say that you are used to rougher speech. If he spoke more plainly, you might understand him.
>Was he trying to use your mother’s name against you as an insult? Unacceptable. Call that out and demand satisfaction.
>Other?
Also-
>Seek out anybody or look for anything in particular to do here, for after you've dealt with this?
>>
>>5314395
>Other
Do we know his mother's maiden surname? Return the 'greetings' to him using that instead.

>Seek out anybody or look for anything in particular to do here, for after you've dealt with this?

If Maddy's other half-siblings are here we might as well introduce ourselves as well. Otherwise
look for fellow military types, at least we can talk shop with them rather than deal with people like Von Schwarzenkranz.
>>
>>5314395
>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
This guy is clearly just trying to get a rise out of us with the "haha commoner blood". Just be mature about it. The other options just play into his hand in making us look less noble, and 3 is definitely an overreaction.

I'll support >>5314413's ideas for socializing, can't think of anyone who we might need to know. Maybe check if any Van Halms are here? Also we can ask Maddy if she has ideas. Not sure if we need to worry about it anyways, we're the guest of honor, won't people be coming to us?
>>
>>5314413
+1
>>
>>5314395
>>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
>>
>>5314395
>Other?
There's no shame in being a cigger. You probably come from a long line of coal burners. Your blood is as clean as you or I.
Then end on a big grin.

>Seek out anybody or look for anything in particular to do here, for after you've dealt with this?
The leader of the farmers or our father-in-law.
>>
>>5314395
>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
He is simply misinformed, no need to run him through for that.
>We eventually drift to where we belong, anyways
He is right about that though, it has been too long since a Von Tracht has fought with the Silver Lances.

>Seek out anybody or look for anything in particular to do here, for after you've dealt with this?
As interesting a topic a coal sounds, I would much rather speak of steel. There wouldn't be anyone here that commands over the Imperial Gates would there? I would like to see the kind of person the Von Blums have manning their most important charge.
>>
>>5314395
>Simply correct him calmly. Maybe joke about him being hard of hearing if he failed to catch Lord Von Blum introduce us just moments prior.
He's trying to get a rise outta us, but Richter outta not feel shame about his mother or his father's clever plan to make her is bride.
So simply play it off as his mistake, make light of his forgetfulness and move on to...
>Seek out anybody or look for anything in particular to do here, for after you've dealt with this?
Meeting more of Maddalyn's family!
>>
>>5314395
>>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
Utter disdain, we'll forget his as soon as we walk past him.
>Other?
Slap him on the ass when we pass.
>>
>>5314395
>Simply correct him calmly. Maybe joke about him being hard of hearing if he failed to catch Lord Von Blum introduce us just moments prior.

No need to engage with some spook for the Kaiser for all we know.
>>
>>5314395
>Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
Why even stoop to something as obvious as this
>>
>>5314395
>>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.
>>
>>5314395
>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.

Can we send a message to the Major or her goons about this guy? Knowing if he's actually a spy and who his master is would be helpful if we ever interact in the future.
>>
>>5314395
>Simply correct him calmly. Maybe joke about him being hard of hearing if he failed to catch Lord Von Blum introduce us just moments prior.
supporting >>5315177s idea too.
>>
>>5314395
>>Think nothing of it. Correct him mildly- as you were Von Tracht.

We should look for the commander of the Imperial Gates, dont want to wake up with the LuftPanzers crashing through the roofs while the Gates lie open
>>
>>5314395
Supporting >>5315246
>>
File: Spoiler Image (462 KB, 1100x1512)
462 KB
462 KB JPG
Another work doodle.

Look, it's Frances Eakova, newly minted Iron Hogs tank commander, until her untimely demise in Ellowie. Seen here, presumably before those events, when she was but a modest truck driver for the mercenary group. Known for being hot headed- and easy to persuade into being a girlfriend for a weekend- she was ever searching for a place to belong after being exiled from her Twaryian Convent. Who knows if she found where she thought she should be before she was killed.

Does anybody remember her? Well, one person did, at least.

In any case, Sosaldt's beachwear is heavily influenced by the practical wear of divers for pearls and sponges, though given that this is leisure wear and not work wear, they tend to have patterns and decorative accoutrement of all sorts. This fashion has spread over most of the wastes to be worn, in some cases, quite far from the beach, and of course has been inherited by the Republic of Mittelsosalia.

>>5314413
>>5314420
My mom? No, your mom.

>>5314414
>>5314449
>>5314513
>>5314571
>>5314622
>>5314805
>>5314868
>>5314998
>>5315177
>>5315246
>>5315251
>>5315253
I am Von Tracht, thank you.

>>5314622
Try to channel your retinue's lack of care for groping men.

As for people. Army sorts, relatives to be, agriculturalists, and gatekeepers.

Writing.
>>
>>5314470
Oh, you too. Coal burning and all that.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (2.2 MB, 1100x1512)
2.2 MB
2.2 MB PNG
>>5315437
>spoiler
Very nice splotchy though I had honestly expected a pair of striking red armpits to match her nethers' reputation. A shame perhaps that she never got Von Metzeler in the sack after all, since she seemed to be one of the few characters we've run into so far with an openly worn esoteric tattoo, she might have had a unique, eastern perspective to share on his own.
However, I think you forgot something...
>>
The cute thing would be to recognize Von Schwarzenkranz by his own mother’s family name- but you didn’t know it. That hadn’t been part of what had been considered relevant. So you’d just have to settle for the mildest possible rebuttal.

“You must have misheard,” you corrected mildly, dull toned, “I am Richter Von Tracht. Some event might have made you hard of hearing…”

“Perhaps,” Von Schwarzenkranz said, continuing to gaze into your eyes, “Though maybe it is simply that we hear some things differently..?”

“You must have an interesting way of hearing indeed, Herr Schwarzenkranz,” You continued to act nonplussed. He had heard nothing wrong- your mother’s house was of a disgraced one, for high treason, and the intent was obvious, but nothing worth being tempted into a scuffle over. You’d let it wash over. Nothing you hadn’t heard before in harsher terms. “I’m afraid I have little to discuss concerning coal. I have more interest in steel.”

“I wouldn’t dare keep this court’s new fine guest from any appointments he has,” Von Schwarzenkranz seemed to have his fill early, tilting his chin up, “Though if you have free time…”

You wouldn’t, not for him. In fact, you’d have to wonder if you should ask the Major and the IO about this man- Maddalyn had told you he was mostly harmless, and that the manner of his spying was more for drama than of strategic information, why hold back?

As you left him, you looked for Maddalyn- and found her quickly. She had been observing you.

“Decent,” she said to you as you rejoined her.

“Decent?” you asked, “I don’t think I could have done better.”

“You could have retaliated.”

“I wanted to be cautious. I don’t know enough about him to form a polite jab.”

“It isn’t about him,” Maddalyn said, “It’s about you. He is here because he is from a family who serves the realm. You are here because you are my man, and my champion. Stand above him. You would be in the right in doing so.”

Was that really the right solution? “I’ll try to remember that for the next hostile young noble.”

“Others will not be so brash,” Maddalyn said as she sipped at the wine and sighed to herself contentedly. “Steel, hm?”

“Family. Though some other military men would be good, as well,” you said, “The Imperial Gate must be watched over by fearsome men, with a mighty commander. Would he not be invited to this?”

Generalmajor Fahren is a recluse, and not a social man,” Maddalyn said, searching the attendants, “He does not often leave the garrison. His second in command is happy to attend often, though…I don’t see him, but he is an acquaintance of Bastian. They talk about wine, he says.”

“You do not mind if we go see them, then,” you suggested to Maddalyn, “All your brothers and sisters are here, yes? Except for…”
>>
“Mathilda, yes,” she said sharply with a disapproving pout of her lip, “My elder sisters and Manfred have not met you yet, but if you want to start with Bastian…”

There was an hour before the first dance. No hurry necessary.

“Von Tracht,” Bastian Von Blum regarded you with a nod- he had already furnished himself with a sample size of rose hued wine- he was unescorted, but you presumed that if his wife and children were here, this early on, he wouldn’t have taken them directly to the wine. “Welcome. I hope that this court will prove a pleasant first experience. My own children find them dull, but they are more interesting when you have the context of an adult, and not in the fashion that some nobility find. I’ve gone off to see how many other oenophiles have elected to attend.”

“At least one guest seems to have a problem with me being here,” you said, “A man called Von Schwarzenkranz.”

“Don’t mind him,” Bastian said with a click of the tongue, “He is a man trying to clamber as fast as he can up the social ladder. You have outpaced him through self-sacrifice, and the kindness and triumph of your father. Jealousy was inevitable.”

“If you say so,” you were still plenty suspicious. A frequent mood lately. “So your own family is here?”

“Risa is with the children in the courtyard,” Bastian gestured outside, “As I said, children find these events boring- so they took the first opportunity to go to the outside entertainment. Noble children find outdoor sports as appealing as the commoners, and since some here are honored common born, it is an important mingling of high and low…as Archduke Roland II intended in the Confederation Accords.”

Well intended, but not widely observed in the more exclusive courts, you heard. “I was interested in meeting the Commander of the Imperial Gates garrison. I assumed such an important figure might be here, but apparently not. His second in command, though…”

“Colonel Wris Von Weisswaldstein,” Bastian said, “Yes, he is here. We just had a small chat over there,” he pointed.

That name was familiar. “Weisswaldstein…related to your wife?”

“Her cousin,” Bastian nodded, “Young for a colonel. Though you are very young for a major, after all. He should be in court military dress like you, with a green cord and brown curly hair. Though truth be told, I would not doubt people will want to come to you, should you appear receptive. You are the man of the hour, after all.”

Hopefully a little longer than merely the hour, but not being in the spotlight overlong was find too. “I hope you do not mind me returning to you later, do you?”

“Not at all. The afternoon and night will be long. Just don’t tarry with army men so long you forget to have the first dance with your wife. I believe they’ve taken enough of your time already, no?”
>>
“Indeed,” you said, recognizing a joke but having no wittiness to counter what was certainly the truth. “I just think it’s important that I familiarize myself with the most important section of this territory, and nation’s, defense…”

Colonel Von Weisswaldstein was easy to pick out where you were told to look- as he was the only man in military dress there, and the green loop around his collar, a higher officer’s version of the Grenzwacht border troops’ green neckerchief, identified him as a member of the first line of armed defense for the Archduchy. Though the Grenzwacht were generally lightly armed and mobile, to keep them fit for patrol- the Imperial Gate garrison were presumably much, much more heavily armed.

“Major Von Tracht,” Von Weisswaldstein noticed you immediately and saluted, you returning it as stiffly and professionally as you could, though his was far more relaxed. “You’re a distinctive man here. Not only the only one in a mask, but the only one garbed in expeditionary black. I daresay that if this were not so strict and proper a court, that you would be on the hunt for young women with impressionable morals.”

“Luckily for them, I am already well appointed for companionship,” you replied- it had been a good natured and well inclined jab, you could tell by his tone, not an insult to his character. After all- there was no pretending in what you wore. “I was actually on the hunt for-“ you cut yourself off. Good thing your retinue wasn’t here to finish with on the hunt for men. “-knowledge. You are the assistant commander of the Imperial Gates?”

“The First, and only, Guard Mountaineers Division,” Von Weisswaldstein said with easy and ready pride, “Supplemented by Capital infantry, but they sit in the fortifications, whilst we patrol the cliffs. The pass itself is so heavily fortified that it would be supreme stupidity to attack through it. A significant engineering effort would have to be undertaken even to render it suitable for peacetime traffic again. Hence why the easy work is left to the new boots, and softer officers looking not for action but for prestigious positions. We do the proper work of keeping those fortresses safe, and able to fend off even the most pernicious assault.”

“Save for an airborne one,” you brought up.

Von Weisswaldstein waved that off. “Paratroopers are lightly equipped. They will not be dropped with great swathes of siege artillery and tanks. Well, they might drop with tanks, but you are not afraid of those, are you? Though,” he leaned in and whispered, “I did do some traveling to merit me my position here- and I have some personal experience with paratroopers. Not to be trifled with, naturally.”

>Talk to Von Weisswaldstein about anything?
Also-
>When you seek out anybody else- what do you want to talk with them about?
>Other things?
>>
Sorry about the delay, all. Variety of reasons.
>>5315605
>However, I think you forgot something...
It was intended to be in the final one- these have been prototypes, of sorts.
That'd be one big sucker there, for sure.
>ince she seemed to be one of the few characters we've run into so far with an openly worn esoteric tattoo
Specifically, it is a symbol of faith for Twaryians, who are harder into the Old World Church than even the Caelussians. Is she still part of the faith? Perhaps. Is she still in the convent? Certainly not, having run off from it.
>>
>>5317051
>Talk to Von Weisswaldstein about anything?
Does the Reich ever probe the mountains? Do we scout them out in turn?
What is the state of anti-air? Do the Guards have a dedicated Air Division?
Are Reich defenses as pernicious as our own?
Anything unusual about the mountains? Especially if rebels (or something more unusual) were to come wandering down?

>When you seek out anybody else- what do you want to talk with them about?
Honestly what is life even like out in the Blumlands, is this a cheery place or do people keep to themselves and their duties?
Let's try to get invited into some officer/noble gatherings at least for the timeskip , it might not be Richter's first inclination but command is half leading and half networking. These may be the same people we will have to rely on for backup.

>Other things?
Later on Maddy would probably know best here but who's reliable/treacherous/ambitious/envious.
Just even a general chart in our heads of the relationships and power dynamics of the region.
>>
>>5317051
>Other things?
Make sure to meet the rest of Maddy's family, and make ourselves "appear receptive" so that people come talk to us that want to.

Also, it would be nice if we made some friends here, like actual friends not just political "friends".

>>5317115
+1 to all this too
>>
>>5317051
>Talk to Von Weisswaldstein about anything?

So how are things at the border lately? So far the Reich seems to be preoccupied with its western frontiers with Halmeggia and Vitelia, but who knows when that could change?

Are there ever any skirmishes with the Reich or are things relatively calm if tense? Do we know what forces they have deployed facing us?

Also talk more about his experience with Reich paras.

>When you seek out anybody else- what do you want to talk with them about?

If we're meeting more of our in-laws, we can exchange the usual pleasantaries while introducing ourselves I guess. Talk about our adventures if asked, but generally getting to know them better.
>>
>>5317051
Consider my vote support for ideas all around, I like every suggestion so far.
>>
>>5317051
>When you seek out anybody else- what do you want to talk with them about?
The leader of the farmers. The general lay of the land, important crops / export, and how well would they be able to handle a supply line if necessary.

>Other things?
Find some whiskey.
>>
>>5317051
>Talk to Von Weisswaldstein about anything?
What's the equipment of his troops?
Are there weaker positions on the border that we should be aware of?
Wife and kids?
How did he get promoted to Colonel?
>When you seek out anybody else- what do you want to talk with them about?
Mingle with nobles of higher and lower strata. Don't give a prefference.
>>
>>5317115
The Reich factor in this, and if these mountains are funky.

>>5317122
Seek out new family and friends.

>>5317124

>>5317161
Everything.

>>5317240
There are no distilled spirits at this event.
However, there may be knowledgeable sorts concerning agriculture and its state functions.

>>5317768
Who are you, and how did you get here?

Writing.
>>
“Not to be trifled with, them nor their planes,” you found yourself little reason to disagree, “So you must have proper anti-air defenses?”

“Of course. Of all sorts, though the most effective anti-air defense does not rest on the ground. Though, those are so much more expensive…” Von Weisswaldstein sighed heavily, “Some don’t understand it until they see it happen.”

“Have you?”

“I have.”

“That must have something to do with you being a colonel so early,” you said.

“Perhaps not as interesting as how you’ve become a major,” Von Weisswaldstein returned with a raising of his glass, “But it is a story. Are you familiar with Felbach?”

Most were, regarding news with the Reich. “I know that they were reconquered by the Grossreich and made into a protectorate again, two to three years back.”

“They were the second,” Weisswaldstein said gravely, “The first, Fealinn, was caught utterly unprepared. They fell so quickly nobody knew what was happening, so after that, for two years, Felbach prepared, despite its internal troubles, it had help from many places. Even still, the Grossreich crushed them. I was there for that, you see. I felt trapped here, a Ritter family man, who hadn’t fought a war against a proper enemy, yet I was an officer in a place of such prestige as the Imperial Gate. So, I went off to help fight the real thing. It would only be a matter of time before Felbach was attacked, I thought- and I was right. So I arrived two months before it all kicked off, and helped train people, organize defenses…and once it all started, we may as well have been butter before a torch. The well prepared defenses had been scouted out, then circumvented by paratrooper landings.” He illustrated with a motion of his hand like an explosion, and a fluttering of ashes to the ground like fall leaves.

“Yet you survived it,” you said.
>>
Weisswaldstein nodded. “It wasn’t easy. We were persistent, us foreign volunteers, and so were the Felbachers. After the initial line was destroyed, the reserves and reinforcements had just enough time to deploy and put up a good fight before the panzers rolled over what was left. The Imperials are far from invincible or superhuman. Sometimes, we attacked instead of defending. Other times we even managed to force them to retreat, but it was never enough. They could call upon their power in the air to make sure we never had rest, to strike us when we were unprepared, on the move, or even when we already struggled to hold against attack. The war took one month and six days before the Felbach government capitulated and the army surrendered, leaving us to flee, but it was practically over in three weeks, and the signs that it would be like that were there by the end of the first. At that point we ran away like rats and did not stop, only making assaults to break through where we had expected to find friendly forces keeping the way out open.” The corners of his mouth sagged as he recounted the summary of his exploits- not a proud or valorous time. “When I returned with my tail between my legs, humbled, I found our that my time was seen as something valuable to have experienced. Amongst almost everybody in the Archduchy- I was one of the very few who had experienced what it was like to face the proper fury of the Reich.”

You nodded, wondering what that must be like. The Netillians had been fearsome- though their air power had been severely blunted by the Ellowian Air Force, so your greatest worries had been their ground forces. “Yet you man the Imperial Gate. Does the Reich not probe the defenses? And your own men theirs?” There was technically a peace treaty between Strossvald and Czeiss. Though practically speaking it only meant that skirmishes never grew into anything more.

“They do,” Weisswaldstein said dismissively, “They don’t try very hard. We pick up a few every so often, and they tend to surrender without a fight once cornered. For our part, our men do recon, but the Reich seems uninterested with dealing with our scouting unless we wander too brazenly. Their defenses are also not nearly ours. They’ve the appearance of being utterly unconcerned with an attack from us- and by my measure, they’re right to. I do not believe the Archduchy would stand any chance trying to win an offensive war against the Reich, especially not in an attack right into the Reich Proper rather than any of its protectorates.”

“So they do not send proper infantry at you,” you surmised.
>>
“They do not. Light infantry. Some even have said that they are merely reserve border patrolmen, not equipped with a combat cuirass or a modern rifle. They do have proper soldiers and defenses waiting on their side, but they are so lax that the men say they purposely leave letters and gifts to find. Oftentimes sarcastic ones. Suffice it to say, we are not considered an offensive threat.”

“Perhaps their attention is divided disproportionately towards the east,” you offered, “What with what occurred in Halmeggia?”

“Emre and Vitelia are certainly more relevant threats to their borders, and to their protectorates,” Weisswaldstein said with a sip of wine, “I suppose you may not be familiar with how the protectorates are governed?”

“Minimally, after the Emrean Liberation,” you said, not needing too much of a reminder.

“Most of them have friction with even this new, young and popular Kaiser, after all,” the Gate Officer said with a chuckle, “It’s understandable that the heartlands of the Reich would pare down forces against a front they consider superfluous in order to bolster their less secure portions. Though prisoners have been telling of a changing mood in the protectorates. A subtle one, but should they decide to reunite as they once were, the continent may be in for a rough time.”

“The Guard Mountaineers are surely ready, though?” you asked, feeling a bit wary about the open pessimism.

“Oh, yes,” Weisswaldstein changed course, “To defend. The mountains are reinforced with Capital troops, and Capital artillery, in ever deepening and expanding fortifications, that have been iterated upon for decades for an invasion that has never come. We do not want for equipment. Merely, sometimes…purpose. Hence why I have tried to acquaint myself with wine. As to foment a culture up in those mountaintops, rather than bad habits.” He raised his glass again with a small smile.

“It must be isolating up there, away from…” you let that hang.

He understood the meaning. “Yes, I have a wife and a daughter. I missed her birth, out adventuring in Felbach. So I come down, unlike our dear Generalmajor.”

“Are there not strange things in those mountains?” You asked, “As mountains tend to…”

Von Weisswaldstein shrugged. “A few examples of curmudgeonly mountain tribe villages, who have no allegiance, but they are annoyances at worst and mostly keep to themselves. It’s a poor idea to go out at night as it always is, but I find superstition to be more hindering than helpful trying to survive competently. Many of the troops take to it, but better that than finding other, worse ways to occupy their time. All it took was one maladjusted bored soldier to sour relations with a village over one girl.” He scowled darkly.
>>
“Rumor has it that the late Lady Von Blum came from one of the tribes of mountains between the Reich and the Archduchy, but that is just the talk of those ignorant of the step in her journey before that. Suffice it to say, I would say Reich exiles do not linger in the mountains. Thankfully. Yes, the mountains have plenty enough natural dangers to not have to pay much attention to other things, or so I believe.”

“What about Imperialist Rebels?” you asked, “They were a problem last year, after all.”

“Their ilk would never be allowed nearby such vital defensive lines. They stayed well far away, as they would have been swiftly hunted down.”

Reassuring. Though that did lock them down, didn’t it. Now, though…you’d been speaking with this man for a while, and there were others you wanted to get to before the first dance. “Thank you for your time, Colonel,” you saluted, “If you do not mind, give the Generalmajor my regards. Your stories have been most informative.”

“Take care, Major,” Von Weisswaldstein saluted you a last time, as you walked away.

Back to Bastian. “I see that you caught up with the young Colonel,” the heir to the territory said approvingly.

“He’s more worldly than I would have expected,” you said.

“A kinsman in journeying abroad, yes?”

“I am thankful I haven’t had to survive the might of the Reich,” you said reverently. “Say, I’ve had a surge of curiosity. Speaking with Von Weisswaldstein about the defenses, I had the thought of…well, even a fortress with the sturdiest walls must have food stores, yes?”

“You refer to the territory’s agricultural capacity,” Bastian Von Blum said, not seeming to recognize the subject with much joy.

“Does your father have an appointed magistrate for such things?”

“He does, but,” Bastian rolled over the subject hastily, “He does not attend functions like this, for the sake of his appearance. He is also a man not in command of agricultural capacities, but merely a representative whose role is to have the voices of the freeholder farmers under the counts and city administrations heard, and to ensure that they have markets to sell their harvest. If you are interested in details, you would have to speak with my brother, but my understanding is that the Blumlands are not a territory that grows corns to feed itself. It is an industrial haven, as it has been since the Reich took over, and as it has developed after throwing them off. To that effect, while food is produced, plenty is imported. Traded for, as we have plenty of wealth to do so with.”

“I’ll go meet with Manfred, then,” you surmised, “I ought to do that anyways. Where is he now?” You were guided with a point, and a warning.
>>
“Though, you’d be best not talking too long,” Bastian said quickly, to shove it in at the last moment, “If you get him going, he’s quite in love with the sound of his own voice. You’ll be here until morning.”

Duly noted.

Manfred Von Blum-Eislichtfeld was different looking from his brother- you presumed he had more of his mother than his father in him. Easier to tell, because he was speaking with two women who looked like he did. The sisters- Miriam and Marlianne. Twins, from what Maddalyn had told you- but they styled themselves differently, one having longer hair down to her shoulders, and the other short hair cut to her neck. Their stances were different too- if you dared to guess, the shorter haired one, Marlianne, was more aggressively inclined, from how she seemed to be already wanting her brother to stop talking about whatever it was he was on about.

“Ah, Manfred,” she gestured to you with a finger when she saw, “It’s Maddalyn’s fiancé.”

Too late, you realized you had been used as a diversion, as when Manfred turned to you and beamed, Marlianne had slipped away, leaving her twin sister behind, confused.
They had all been red haired, but of a darker, more auburn hue, and Manfred’s hair was actually longer than either of his sisters’, tied back in a ponytail with an extravagant ribbon, a cowlick of hair curling over his forehead, and a mustache groomed into a thin line. He took your hand quickly, and shook it once, hard, with a smile on his face.

“Richter Von Tracht,” he said brightly, “It is Manfred’s pleasure to meet you. Mine name is Manfred Von Blum-Eislichtfeld, the Blue, heir to the house Von Eislichtfeld and castellan in mine brother’s absence. Now, how can Manfred entertain you this fine night?”

He had a strange way of speaking, but more strange was how you felt even watching him move- there was a bizarre familiarity to it. Like you’d met him before, knew him so well you could see what he was thinking about just by looking into his eyes- yet you’d never met him. You’d only become him…you knew him, somehow, more intimately than he could imagine.

This theatrical personality knew more than he should have.

“I am fine, thank you,” you said, noting that Manfred had not let go of your hand, “I actually wanted to meet you, along with the rest of Maddalyn’s siblings,” you looked around, “Who seem…to have…left..?”

Manfred didn’t seem to mind- he had a new captive audience. “Oh, they’ll be back around. Strayed back to their husbands, most likely. The draw of the spouse is powerful, but having them around all the time is simply suffocating. The old days will never return, but I can demand some space now and then. Shamefully, I know rather much more about you than you likely do of me, so with that in mind, I leave the first move to you, masked knight.”
>>
“Ah, well,” you searched for the first thing to come to mind, “Bastian said that you were familiar with the territory’s agriculture, and was wondering if you could tell me about that?”

Unfortunately for you, he indeed could.

-----

Manfred Von Blum had apprised you, in his own flowery way, of some important information. Much of the Blumland’s agricultural produce was potatoes and barley, supplemented by the sort of garden vegetables and fruits that freeholder and land sharing farmers alike labored to bring to the markets. The markets were the more relevant matter in regards to supply- management of foodstuffs was kept mostly hands off, with a focus on making certain that the markets they were brought to were local. The cities of the territory were too dense for the local fields to feed them all- though Manfred had not seemed concerned by that at all. Asking why had been a mistake, but the reasoning was sound- territorial reserves were overfull since last winter, and though agricultural capability was underdeveloped, the wealth of industry could be readily exchanged for friendly territories- and foreign countries- ability to produce grain for far more than it was worth to invest otherwise.

More profitable than any food production was a rather appropriate industry for the territory- the practice of floriculture, though- whose fields would apparently be ready to spring into bloom soon, full of flowers and decorative plants from all over the world, to be spread over the Archduchy’s Spring Courts and further. What purpose was there in devoting fields to maize, Manfred scoffed, when a few good bundles of Glasspetals could buy three truckloads of grain sacks?

Mostly, he told you not to worry about such “peasant matters.” Especially since you had absolutely no word nor experience on how to decide on them besides having idle curiosity- but that was left unsaid.

He had much more to say on flower growing, trading, speculation- the rose markets that had high stakes traders as far as Zeeland and Zhantao, but you made your escape when you could, when the first dance was to be had. Frankly, you wanted to dance with Maddalyn, not with Manfred, and you had to break away at some point if you wanted to mingle with anybody else. For example, more officers about, or to familiarize yourself observing the few others Maddalyn had advised to pay attention to.

The ballroom was silent, as you and Maddalyn walked to the center, took one another in hand, and waited for the musicians to begin, your hand going to her waist and hers to your back, while your other hands held one another. There wouldn’t be any untoward close dancing here- this was a proper, and uptight, event, and you would be careful to not overdo anything. Better to stick to the standard and risk being dull than to make a fool of yourself trying to impress, you’d learned by now.
>>
As the viola and flutes were accompanied by more and more instruments, a harpist accenting this introduction to the night, you turned about and around, stepping carefully to avoid pushing Maddalyn- trying not to get lost in the bliss of it. You wished you could look into both her eyes- but the eyepatch was there still. Would she want you to take off the mask?

“So,” Maddalyn said as you danced, “She was unhappy with your questions, I take it.”

“I’m sorry?” you furrowed your brows, “Who, your sisters? I didn’t speak with them.”

“Sister? Yes,” she said coolly, hand still woven with yours, “Come now, it hasn’t been that long since we talked.” The long gloves… “Act as normal,” she instructed, “Everything appears as it should. You have been good about not letting your hands wander. I’d rather not have that on my conscience.”

“Where is she?” you whispered carefully.

“Busy as usual,” the woman you were dancing with said coyly, “Too busy for her husband’s debut. Sad, is it not? She ought to be thankful to me. If you like, you should not mention this at all. Let her believe that you believe she attended.”

“Why here?”

“Would you have met with me otherwise?” her eye was identical- she felt the same, she sounded the same. “Did she not forbid it? Your curiosity has not left, has it? You did ask her, for her fury with me. So tell me…were you satisfied with her answers?”

“…” you said nothing, as you focused on continuing the dance, fumbling in your head rather than your feet.

“I would like to know,” the sunset haired, silver dressed little lady said, as she pulled you to change direction, to begin the steps the other way. “You cannot have a marriage built upon secrets, can you? I know well enough, how hidden flaws will surface eventually. How much would be too much, Richter?”

You searched for ways to answer her, considered them. Yet also thought about how on earth you could have been fooled- when had one taken the place of the other? Why had no word been sent? Something was odd…but that look you could not refuse demanded you speak, as any listeners were far away enough to only be an audience who could but observe with eyes…

>?
>>
>>5319339

At this point I'm unsure whether this is actually Mathilda or Maddy pulling an even bigger brained move and pretending she's Mathilda lmao.

>?
Stop trying to stir the pot, we'll make our own judgement based on what we find out.
>>
>>5319339
“No, she did not quite answer me, but at this point I believe it isn’t your business, if it ever was in the first place. Why are you so insistent on this? It greatly irritates Maddalyn, and I might be starting to believe her when she says you are doing this to that end.

By the way, our relationship is hardly ‘built’ on secrets, even if they may be involved. We love each other, something you might not be familiar with. I trust her, and I’m sure she will tell me anything important when she’s comfortable.”
>>
>>5319338
What an ass. It's that kind of short term thinking that causes a food shortage during times of war.

>>5319339
I close my eyes.
She tells me sweet little lies. although I'm not making plans, I hope to understand there's a reason why. I couldn't find a way for her to open up to me. So I'll settle for one day to believe you.
>>
>>5319339
This is Maddy, no doubt. Her story doesn't make sense.
>Say something deep sounding but nonsensical.
>>
>>5319339
>?
Snake in the grass. If she knows so much about these secrets why not just tell us and send us to Maddy? Unless she knows less than she is letting on. Tell her nothing, and I'm half a mind to tell Maddy to never wear those gloves again so this subterfuge never repeats itself.
>>
>>5319339
>?
Supporting >>5319422's assumption
>Rather than merely guessing, babble on while we wait for a cue in the music to raise her arm and see if we can't "accidentally" tug on one of her gloves enough to confirm or this is Mathilda.
>>
>>5319339
We're not satisfied with the answers, no, but she's entitled to have her secrets and we won't force them from her. We can only hope that in the course of our marriage she'll come to trust us enough to tell us more, before any misfortune can befall us as a result of our ignorance.
>>
>>5319339
>Too busy for her husband’s debut.
Assuming I believe her, that's real cold Maddy.
Then again, Mathilda might have tricked her away or locked her up so she could meet with Richter.

>How much would be too much, Richter?
>?
There's more to ask her, Richter cares too much about her to judge her secrets from where he sits. But we must know what they are. It's one things to hide her shame about her mother, but frankenRichters need explaining now.
>>
>>5319651
I mean, we kind of already know how we have FrankenRichters. She got a sample of our blood and used its essence to fuse with people that were locked up. Also, I disagree that we have to learn more. It would be nice to, but it looks like pushing that is going to strain our relationship, and I value that more.
>>
>>5319358
>>5319363
This is none of your business.

>>5319417
I have found out naught, and know as much.

>>5319422
>>5319635
Let me see your arms.

>>5319637
The answers are unsatisfactory- but I do not need them.

>>5319651
I must know these secrets, because I care not what their ugly truth may be.

These'll be a bit messy to unify, if they can be, in general, but I think I can.

Writing.
>>
The doubt continued. Yet you could give your answers, regardless of your certainty on the other matter.

“That is none of your business,” you declared quietly, continuing the dance for the audience kept away, any talk between you plenty overshadowed by music, “What is gained by interfering with Maddalyn and I?”

“It isn’t the business of family to be concerned with how they conduct themselves?” Came the haughty answer, “You have known her for so much less time than I. You simply do not want your fairy tale to be threatened.”

“There is no fiction to what is between us,” you said, “I’m starting to believe that you’re doing this just to irritate her, which I would rather not be an accomplice in.”

“So these secrets are not important to you, no matter what they might be.”

“Not more important than love.”

“Your ignorance is not a crack in the wall, but a lack of foundation. A fortress built upon sand, a ship sailing without the stars above. You are a fool.”

Perhaps so, but you disagreed about what these secrets were. Your relationship was certainly not built off of them. “I’m going to spin you, now.” This was where you would find out- rather, how you might plan to. The gloves on whoever this was’s arms were not too tight to pull off, but yanking them off purposely in front of everybody would be unseemly. You simply wanted to see if you could do the motion you wanted to. After all, if you could accidentally undress women in a dance, surely you could do it on purpose.
So you raised her arm, and let your hand off of her waist to let her turn around- the sight of her hair, her hips twirling, was enough to set you alight, but the mind had tamed the heart, right now. Tugging her glove upward didn’t seem practical by itself- after all, Mathilda’s mutilations began at the elbow and the gloves worn here went all the way up the forearm, but maybe on the downward movement, the gloves could be convinced downwards far enough? Though there was a flaw in this plan- you’d only have one chance to do it, because once she noticed you attempting the first time, there’d be no chance she’d let you do it a second time.

Turning around and round with her, though, how alike the two looked, and felt, kept you from thinking straight. One thing was right- a huge part of you simply wanted to forget. To imagine that you’d managed to hallucinate what had just been talked about. Yet that was why you had to find out. There was a possibility, there- that, despite whatever reasons she might have had to try and trick you, your fiancée was indeed who you were with right now. Who you were enjoying yourself with.
>>
The song ended, and with it, the dance- the assembled party applauded politely, before others invited themselves into the dance floor, though you did not move yourself, as rings formed around with people and their partners.

“I wouldn’t think you would want another dance,” your own small partner said coolly.

“What sort of impression would I give if I only favored my fiancée with a single dance?” you said back, “I don’t see you denying me.”

“You are passable, at dance,” she admitted with a brushing of her bangs to the side with a silver gloved finger. “I am having fun.”

The golden light of the chandeliers overhead made her tiara glitter, her dress shine, her pale skin glow. Whomever this was, you couldn’t help but think as you began to dance once more, they were both beautiful, by nature of them looking exactly like one another.

>Let this go. Doing something disruptive wouldn’t actually do anything- just enjoy yourself for a bit longer, before leaving this be for later.
>Attempt to pull on the glove during dancing. It would be tricky- but it would be a definite. (Medium chance DC roll if this is decided- but you get one.)
>Try to find out if this sister is the one that belongs to you some other way. Their arms weren’t the only thing that would be different, if you thought about it… (Write In)
>Other?

Writer's Block blows
>>
>>5321502
>Try to find out if this sister is the one that belongs to you some other way. Their arms weren’t the only thing that would be different, if you thought about it…
Maybe there are more subtle ways to go about this than potentially exposing her to the other dancers, for now anyway.
Maddalyn can't see through glass, as I recall. So I suggest we offer "Mathilda" another flute of the sparkling wine she was drinking earlier, but fetch her a glass of the red instead and gauge how she reacts.
>>
That plan necessitates bringing the red wine back in the same kind of glass as the white wine, assuming they're different, so we should probably state our own desire for a drink, then head off to find one heedless of if she says no and tries to shut us down, dumping out the white wine and replacing the contents of both glasses with red at the table.
>>
>>5321502
>Try to find out if this sister is the one that belongs to you some other way. Their arms weren’t the only thing that would be different, if you thought about it… (Write In)
Maddy can't see colors. Ask her something like "who is that guy in the green suit" while pointing in a direction with nothing green at all.
>>
>>5321502
>Let this go. Doing something disruptive wouldn’t actually do anything- just enjoy yourself for a bit longer, before leaving this be for later.
Do we actually want to have to deal with trying to catch her out, let alone the answer?
>>
>>5321502
>Let this go. Doing something disruptive wouldn’t actually do anything- just enjoy yourself for a bit longer, before leaving this be for later.
>>
>>5321502
>Try to find out if this sister is the one that belongs to you some other way. (Write In)

I don't want to be tricked by Maddy, where did this mistrust grow from? If we don't address it now she'll keep trying to do it as it's a way for her to avoid the problem.

>>5321626
Is fine since she also can't see faces, it should just be someone nearby so she can't wave it away as "I can't see over everyone else they are too far away." We gotta remember that both of these girls are smol.
>>
>>5321502
>Attempt to pull on the glove during dancing. It would be tricky- but it would be a definite. (Medium chance DC roll if this is decided- but you get one.)

>>5315437
I don't know how I missed this, but this is fantastic!
>>
>>5321502
>>Attempt to pull on the glove during dancing. It would be tricky- but it would be a definite. (Medium chance DC roll if this is decided- but you get one.)
I support trying >>5321626 first, but knowing Maddy she might have figured out some way around this sort of thing so I think we should still try the glove if there's any doubt left.
>>
>>5321626
+1, but if it doesn't work
>Let this go.
>>
>>5321502
>Try to find out if this sister is the one that belongs to you some other way. Their arms weren’t the only thing that would be different, if you thought about it… (Write In)
Call me paranoid, but even with a vision test using a drink or a guest, I worry about an intentional failing of the test to give a false positive to sow some relationship discord out of spite. I think something more quickly executed would be better, like pulling off the mask while she is not looking and gauging the reaction when she looks back.
>>
>>5321527
Get more wine in her.

>>5321626
>>5321791
>>5321970
Color guessing games.

>>5321923
>>5321969
Let me see those arms.

>>5322007
Do you know how I got these scars? Nah, right movie, wrong antagonist.

Writing. Getting near the end of the thread here, I'm not really sure where to break things off- I figure the wedding will be next thread. If there's anything you especially want to see in this thread, go ahead and name it.
>>
>>5321705
>>5321738
Somehow didn't catch you two, you're counted too.
>>
Still the little voice in your head, asking if you really wanted the answer to this, along with all the other answers that might wait. What if it was better to just let it all lay?

No, you had to know at least this one small thing. How to go about it, though…the answer came when you looked in her eye. Was reminded that Maddalyn did not perceive the world the same way others did- she had been born blind, and only had an approximation of sight. She couldn’t see through transparent objects, for example. Like glass- maybe you could get different wines and test her sight that way?

A flaw in that plan. For one, you’d have to go and get it, but for another, did wines not smell and taste differently? If Maddalyn was trying her utmost to evade you discovering this was her and not Mathilda, there was an escape route there. Better to go simpler, on the same route of color. That piece of perception she lacked any ability to sense. A look around the ballroom- was there a general color missing, like green? Something too outrageous would be picked up on.

Pulling off her glove was a decent last resort, but as you formulated your plan, you thought that perhaps a secondary fallback before that would be prudent. Another thing Maddalyn couldn’t see besides color- faces. You’d had the experience of shocking rather a few people with the sight of the burn scars on your unmasked face. Maddalyn couldn’t see those- and Mathilda had not seen them either. You could gauge surprise, after you’d distracted her attention.

“Are you reconsidering having another dance?” the ginger lady in your arms asked with the calm and clipped tone she had kept the whole time, “If you’re not into it, it’s hardly enjoyable for the other person.”
>>
“Of course not, I was just thinking,” you looked behind her, “Who is that man over there, with the white, long hair, and the dark red suit?”

The man with white long hair did exist. His suit, however, was white as well. The small woman did look behind her- and parried you. “Which one? Point to him.”

You felt yourself relax. A quirk of the side of the room you’d pointed to- there were no dark red suits at all. None to be mixed up with one another. Yet- there was still a mild possibility, that she was one lady, pretending to be another, pretending to be that one. So you still removed your mask while she was distracted.

She turned to face you again, and blinked, frowned. “Put the mask back on, before anybody looks.”

Though…why? Did she trust you so little? Or was she just so afraid that she felt this necessary? Either way, you knew now…this was no Mathilda. Not unless you continued to play along with it.

>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.
>Take her aside, out of the view of others, and question her directly on this. It had to be addressed firmly and clearly.
>Continue to dance with her- though, give a small signal of some sort. That the game was up, and you knew full well who you danced with right now. (Write in)
>Other?
>>
>>5322145
>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.
This is probably a test to see how much we trust her. She's shown us this is something she worries about. Calling her out on this is not going to help anything, even if we don't approve of this behavior. Let her have her fun like this, and we can work on demonstrating to her that we do trust her and are in this for the long haul.
>>
>>5322145
>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.

If anything we've already let her "know", Time to move onwards and do our best to enjoy the rest of the party.
>>
>>5322145
>Continue to dance with her- though, give a small signal of some sort. That the game was up, and you knew full well who you danced with right now. (Write in)
I'm going to go dance with your sister.

I don't appreciate being shit-tested and hopefully this makes her aware we can put our sword in every sheath here.
>>
>>5322193
*I'm going to go dance with your pretty sister.
>>
>>5322145
>>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.
Let it be for now, but don't answer any of her questions either, just ignore it and try to enjoy the dance. Maybe make a comment about how disappointed we are that Maddalyn would abandon us for work at an important event like this so she knows we're disappointed in her, if not the real reason why. We've learned that she doesn't trust us and feels the need to trick us to learn our feelings, which is disappointing because I don't think we've ever misled her in the past in that regard. But there's no point in making a scene of it now and ruining the night. We'll deal with it when the time is right.
>>
>>5322145
>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.
>Other?
I'm not sure if this would count as dropping a hint we know, but it's definitely a message I want to get across. This impersonation "Mathilda" is doing is completely unacceptable. No husband should have to wonder if the wife he holds in his arms is the same one he exchanged vows with. This is a sword hanging over the head of that relationship. I will not accept even a flicker of the possibility of being the second damn person of the tank crew to have mistaken his woman for their sister.
>>
>>5322145
Seconding both >>5322206 and >>5322213
>>
>>5322213
Well, at least we have the easy option of preventing that scenario by making her take gloves off for the deed.
>>
>>5322260
That is definitely true, but I don't like having to spy check the wife if she's wearing gloves. Especially because the long gloves kinda do it for me and it seems weird to ask her to take them off and put them back on.
>>
>>5322145
>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.
>>
>>5322145
>Allow Maddalyn to continue being Mathilda if she liked. You wouldn’t try and catch her on it.
It'll be more fun to playfully tease her about it later when they snuggle in bed.
I feel like if this was anyone else, I'd be at least a little bit upset with them, but coming from Maddalyn it's just sorta cute and funny.
https://youtu.be/qlOTNtUvhe8?t=49
...we, need to uh, Fix this.
>>
>>5322164
>>5322182
>>5322231
>>5322307
>>5322465
Let it be. She wants this for some reason.

>>5322206
>>5322213
>>5322260
Is it not fair to be disappointed, frustrated? At the very least avoid becoming the subject of a familiar joke.

>>5322193
Dance with the pretty sister. Which one is that, though?

Writing.

>>5322465
>Maddalyn
>cute and funny
Just make sure you have a good idea of how to say she's funny to her.
>>
So be it. You donned your mask again- and did not speak of your deduction. There was no point on trying to catch Maddalyn on this- she could continue pretending to be her sister as long as she liked. What mattered was that it really was her. So you’d dance with her longer. Even though conversation evaporated.

A hand on her waist and another on her shoulder for a slower waltz, whose star was a set of flutes meshing together into a unity of woodwind like a song in the air of the hillocks, you turned with Maddalyn, watched her close her eyes in contentment despite the act of this. Yes, you enjoyed this, but with no talk and no sound but the song, you were left to converse with your thoughts.

Why did she not trust you? Had you wronged her? Not as far as you knew. You’d even insisted to her that you would hide nothing from her, and that you would accept anything of her, yet she still hid away. Felt the need to trick you to learn your feelings. Surely you didn’t deserve that? It couldn’t be that she was this threatened that you’d spent time away from her.

There was nothing to do about it other than to keep on her good side, to accept that all this was part of gaining her trust. Her real trust, despite you considering it well earned. You were alive because of one another- beyond the disappointment, you were confounded…

“You look like you’ve gone some place far away,” Maddalyn said, her voice so completely like Mathilda’s when she had spoken to you…though since they sounded the same, that was not logically much a change.

“I’m only disappointed,” you said low and quiet, “That Maddalyn isn’t here with me. I thought this was more important.” A disheartened pause. “I thought that she thought this was more important.”

A flash of hurt so subtle that it might not have even existed anywhere but in your imagination, but the character Maddalyn played was nonplussed. “You ought to be used to unpleasant surprises, panzerritter.” She brushed a finger against the decorations you wore on your breast. “You should be thankful, that I appeared to cover for her mistakes.”

“Yet you chose to reveal yourself?”

“For the sake of grace for the public eye. You cannot say that she does not deserve particular pain, but it must be well focused on her. Don’t you think?”

You wouldn’t answer that. Not here, not now. Nothing would be gained by speaking past one another from behind your castles of false faces.

The two of you persisted until a break from dancing was mandated- whereupon you broke apart again. Would Maddalyn return in different garb and claim to have come back for true? You hoped not- because you rather liked how that dress hugged tautly upon her waist and hips, and those long gloves, even if they made her identity an uncertainty. The feeling of them when you touched its shining satin was tantalizing- a hotheaded fantasy of ruining it with a blissful explosion or several.
>>
An iron tap on your shoulder, as you wandered about aimlessly, lost in conflicting thoughts- but that heavy arm snapped you back, as you turned around…and saw a completely unexpected uniform, the red-brown of the Grossreich, a stark white cape falling from its wearer’s shoulders, an officer’s cap decorated gaudily with golden wreaths around it, atop a head whose beaming face was riddled with little scars that stretched his cheeks and forehead many ways at once, combined with the wear of a harsh passage into middle age.

“It’s been some time, my boy,” a Zeissenburg accent greeted you, as well as a wave from a blackened iron false arm, “Do you remember me? Rogel Zierke, the Iron Fist of the Kaiser, as they call me sometimes…though I’m only here for the sake of decent manners as an ambassador, hah. A show of peace, placing a man such as me at the mercy of Von Blum.”

“I believe I do remember you,” you said. Mostly that you might have saved him- or perhaps, he might allow you to think that while being able to completely take care of himself.

“I most certainly remember you, as well as the eyebrows girl,” the iron arm slapped your shoulder again heavily, “How far you’ve come, Von Tracht. With about as many pieces taken out of you as might be expected for all there is to tell about you.”

“More than you may think,” you said, pulling the glove off your right hand- showing the mechanism that replaced two fingers.
>>
Rogel’s eyebrow raised, and he shifted to the side to look around the mechanical fingers. “May I inspect it?” You nodded, and he took your hand in his, rotating it. “Ahh…this artificer is skilled indeed. Your fingers and my arm are kin.” He looked knowingly up with a small smile, “Who got this for you?”

“My fiancée, Maddalyn Von Blum.”

“She must love you quite dearly,” he let your hand go, “These prosthetics are not easy to come by even for people in high places.”

“…” You most certainly hoped so. “I’m a bit surprised to see an Imperial at this court.”

“I heard who would be debuting here,” Rogel said, “And I couldn’t miss it, though I am a tad late. Just to not scare off all the pond crabs.”

Pond crabs? Perhaps he referred to the native freshwater partially-land borne crabs that were viciously territorial and aggressive- but even their oversized claws could not make up for the fact of their diminutive size, so that the most threat they were to anybody was pinching a finger or toe by surprise. Arrogant and irritable little crustaceans- and you had a feeling, though you didn’t remember the exact context, it clearly wasn’t meant to be a very respectful reference.

He took a long, undignified pull of the wine he had, draining it all in one go. It would surely affect him as little as water, you had the feeling. “So. Have you considered the invitation at all? Henrik wouldn’t throw a party just for you, but a spot of tea and a spirited conversation is something much sought after back home.”

>Surely he understood that meeting with the Kaiser was unseemly to a Strossvalder- though you still did have that gold medallion stashed…you just wouldn’t have anybody expecting you.
>Maybe. You hardly expected more than one meeting, after all- and it was a matter of good timing to decide when that would be.
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
>Other?
>>
>>5322808
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
Might as well. Not sure how much longer we'd have the chance.
>>
>>5322808
>>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
>>
>>5322808
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.

I am curious not going to lie. Though we should bring the medallion along as well just in case.
>>
>>5322808
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
>>
>>5322808
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
>>
>>5322808
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
>>
>>5322808
>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.

It will be good to see a familiar face again, even if we aren't familiar with him.

Familiar indeed. More bullshit wizardry.
>>
>>5322808
>Maybe. You hardly expected more than one meeting, after all- and it was a matter of good timing to decide when that would be.

>Other?
Find some Salon champagne, a good year if you could.
>>
>>5322808
>>At this point, you could admit substantial curiosity. Maybe you could stop over in the Reich on the way to Paelli- so long as you were afforded the same protections this other war hero had.
>>
>>5322814
>>5322816
>>5322817
>>5322868
>>5322893
>>5322939
>>5323094
>>5323423
Making a stopover in the future, while you still can.

>>5323250
Singular dissent.

Writing. Next update will probably be the last vote for the thread.
>>
Having journeyed all over Sosalia, fought alongside so many different sorts, could you not afford to have a substantial curiosity to this proposal, now? What would you be accused of that hadn’t been brought forward and dismissed before?

“I was planning on going to Paelli with my wife once we were married, on a marriage holiday,” you said to the Imperial War Hero, “Perhaps I could stop over in your country, so long as I was afforded the same protections you have here, that is.”

“If you have that token of favor, then indeed you will,” Zierke assured you, “Though you won’t be able to wander far. As I am unable to. Hah hoh.”

There was an awful lot more to be wandered into in the Blumlands than one might expect. Hopefully that wasn’t the case in the Reich…

“Paelli, though,” Zierke scratched his chin, “A soft place, indeed. Why there and not, say Emre?”

“Maddalyn likes warm climates, and there’s beaches. It’s a curious place, I’ve heard, being next to the Maelstrom.”

“I see, you want to get her onto the beaches,” Zierke nodded coyly, “It’s a funny sort to want to wander closer to the oblivion of the Maelstroms. Is it also the Vitelian and further west that entices you? Their mixture of cuisine is certainly to die for.”

You shrugged. “I’ve found myself wandering further and further from home. Why not go as far as I can? My wife also wishes to explore, and I think it’d be good for us. I can have an adventure with her without dragging her to wars she has no place being in.”

“It certainly is a place for a holiday, though,” Zierke’s tone turned warning, “Vitelia is a tumultuous place as of late, even beyond the Utopians and Leon’s state rearing up to continue their struggle against each other rather than dismantling their mutual enemies. Paelli disliked the taste of war they got, early on in that chaos. They conceded territory to the Kalleans to avoid having to defend it again, and such unwillingness to fight is the predecessor to becoming the victim of conquest. I would not linger overlong.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you said, “I’ve plenty of business to return to here, after all, with my recent promotion.”

“I heard. A major, in your youth.” Zierke hummed, “I wonder how far you’ll go..?” A sigh. “Ah, we’ll see. I won’t keep you longer, I know it doesn’t look great for you to spend too much time talking to me, hah. Else the crabs might pinch at your ankles. Take care.” He started to leave, but paused, looking to your hip. “Nice sword. A real antique, there.” He then left fully, leaving you be to wander again, until somebody else interesting might find you.
>>
Though you ended up returning to Bastian, mostly to ask for his advice on wine. Joining the Oenophile club might be a bit much, considering your lack of knowledge on wines- you were a drinker of beer far, far more often, but it couldn’t hurt to try new things. He advised you to ask for a particular Delsan sort, made from grapes on stony soils with a particular taste profile to them, just so you could know it for future experience.

When you went over to the table with the half-glasses, though, you spied the territorial lord himself, attended to by a cluster of various gentlemen clearly hounding him for his attention, yet when you came near, Barnabas Von Blum recognized you, stood by you, though he had little to say.

“You are quite fond of dance, then,” he mused to you, without first addressing.

“Me?” you asked, “Yes, my lord. Though I could be better practiced.”

“From what your father said of you, I would not have assumed you would have any practice,” the lord said, “Nor that you had an interest in wine.”

“Your heir advised me to make a selection,” you said, “Do you have a favored drink?”

Von Blum did not speak right away, and he waved his hand. “Give me some peace, gentlemen. I will address you in the sitting room.” When the other guests dispersed, and left you surprisingly alone with the patriarch, his face aged and his hair white but his back straight as a young man, he spoke lowly, contemplatively. “It would not be here. In the mountains to the north and west of these lands, there is a traditional sort of mead, made with the honey of stone bees, the water of mountain springs and snow melt, and mixed with herbs and berries of the cliffs. It is not easy to come by, and tradition states that if you want any, you must collect all of the ingredients yourself, for the brewer to craft for you. Thus it is a great privilege, to take this drink made from your labors and exploits, and to share it with another is to honor them.” He ran a finger around a glass, and sounded a wistful tune with this impromptu instrument. “The last I had it was when I went to the mountains after the death of my first wife, and found my second. She shared with me the sum of her journey since we had last parted. Miriam may have been descended from exiles of the Reich, but she was a woman of the mountains, and I have never had anything quite like her mead since those fine days, even though it only lasted a night.”
>>
You didn’t have anything to say to that, and you doubted that you were expected to reply, as after another moment, Von Blum spoke on.

“I love my family, Von Tracht, but the duties of a duke are burdensome, and conflict with effervescent affection. Necessities that have grated over the years. For example. These wines all have fine names, prestige spoken of far and wide, dedicated artisans doing their utmost to craft them to the highest expectations, but they are all lacking, in a way. I have yet to find one that can bring me back to the past, let alone bring my fondness forward from it.” A pause. “Do you seek status? Greatness in titles and holdings?”

“Well-“

“You are too young to know the answer yet, Von Tracht,” he turned and straightened his cravat sourly, “My advice is to not lose yourself in regrets when responsibility for your ambitions comes calling.”

Not so much as a polite farewell, as he walked off. What an oddly mannered man, you thought as you stared back at the wines, now curious of something that would have never been offered in any court…

-----

The rest of the court had passed by without you being crowded, though plenty of curious people came to take their measure of you. Whether they were impressed or not, they were at least cordial- though you tried to see where they might have slighted you. A scant few did fall back on your origins, but the general attitude was receptive and friendly. After all, you were moving to a place where knowing you very well might be a step up on the ladder for them. Though you wouldn’t be attending too many social functions- a few more, you’d been invited to, but you hesitated on accepting them given that a couple were requests for company at the less reputable sorts of places. No feisty women bothered you, at least. They well kept their distance, in fact. Nobody would be threatening the hand of the territorial lord’s daughter in this place.
>>
When the social was over, punctuated by a dinner comprised of samples of all sorts of different items of regional foodstuffs from edible flower plates to various preparations of local river fish and orchard produce, you retired to where you would sleep- which, with Maddalyn’s room locked up, was a guest room where more of your things could be kept anyways. In time, perhaps you would have your own room- perhaps your own house. A rural cottage would be nice, if inappropriate for somebody like Maddalyn to live in. The Von Blum manor had a way of making you feel as you didn’t belong, somehow. The outdoors had a simple and subtle welcoming to them that the wealthiest interiors couldn’t show to you.

After the lights had been turned off and you lay in bed to sleep, a bit of time passed, with you not quite able to get to sleep, when somebody entered without turning the lights on, and immediately got into bed with you- her size made it obvious who she was.

“Richter?” Maddalyn’s voice spoke, and you felt her pajamas when you wrapped an arm around her, but you said nothing yet. She crawled upwards, and touched your face. Put her lips to yours, and held there. “…” She kissed again, touched her tongue in a test against your own mouth, invited without words, but you didn’t answer that knock at the door. “Richter…”
A touch of her hand. It was hers- not her sister’s. That you had to test was unacceptable. Once again, Maddalyn kissed you on the mouth, and her tongue brushed against your teeth. She was persistent-insistent. Though…were you in the mood?

>Not tonight. She could cuddle with you, but you weren’t feeling romantic.
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
>Escalate. You felt she could make up for things a bit more than a little smooching. (How far?)
>Other?
>>
>>5323656
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.

Maybe we could try going all the way but I'd think Richter would still be a bit ticked off after today's stunt.

>Vitelia is a tumultuous place as of late, even beyond the Utopians and Leon’s state rearing up to continue their struggle against each other rather than dismantling their mutual enemies.

Who's Leon?
>>
>>5323656
>>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.

A peck back. I don't know if it would be better in the morning but some things need to be answered.
>>
>>5323656
>Not tonight. She could cuddle with you, but you weren’t feeling romantic.
>>
>>5323662
>Who's Leon?
Typo for Leone, or rather, Giovanno Leone, the Autarch of Vitelia. Or as it's referred to in Vitelia's broken up state, Sudvitel, though it is the remnant of the former Kingdom of Vitelia. Before the civil war began, the Autarch was merely an appointed position to aid the King's government, but since, he has assumed practically every power as head of state.
In short, a dictator, and the Revolutionary Confederacy of Greater Vitelia's primary enemy.
>>
>>5323656
>Not tonight. She could cuddle with you, but you weren’t feeling romantic.
I'm usually for more romance, but tonight wouldn't be right. Better to sleep on this.
>>
>>5323656
>Escalate. You felt she could make up for things a bit more than a little smooching. (How far?)
Her face down in the pillow, ass up in the air.
>>
>>5323656
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
>>
>>5323683
>>5323667
>>5323662
Pussy whipped.
>>
>>5323662
>Who's Leon?
That literal son of a whore child soldier Richter put up in a UGZ. He went from sharing a bed with his mother and shitting in a communal latrine to taking over half of Vitelia in the span of like 2 months, some people are just destined for greatness.
>>
>>5323682
+1
>>
>>5323656
>Other (Hit her with the cold shoulder. "You are going to bring me to the grave or show me the research center. Whichever is more palatable to you. You owe me that much for the stunt you tried to pull tonight." If she complies we snuggle the piss outta her. If not, then Richter outta keep it up, until she gives in.)
Richter pulling out the slighted wife handbook to use the oldest trick in the book.
Do not cry for the dear girl boys. Even now Richter is more disappointed than mad. It's a bitter pill she'll need to swallow but she can't get away with this one without a bit of hurt.
>>
>>5323656
>Not tonight. She could cuddle with you, but you weren’t feeling romantic.
>>
>>5323736
I'll second this. There's no point in hiding that we know what she did anymore, I don't want to answer lies with more lies. She can make it up to us by showing us one of the things she's so desperate to hide, so we can decide for ourself whether or not all her secrets are justified.
>>
>>5323736
Eeh fuck it, switching to this
>>
>>5323736
What? Please do not do this, this is easily the worst option. It is antagonistic and will do nothing but harm our relationship and cause and escalate conflict. It is also unlikely to get anything useful out of her other than making her angry and vindictive.
>>
>>5323736
This is an absolute shit option. An abuser's behavior. Whether she complies or not, it'll fuck up the relationship. If you want to confront her, there are other ways.
>>
>>5323656
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.

Make it clear Richter is disappointed but at least return the kiss in a subdued manner or something
>>
>>5323736
I don't particularly care for ties or this vote, but I'll switch to this to move the story along, as much as I don't want to.
>>
>>5324469
Isn't this supposed to a quiet aside to have a breather from the combat and all that that Richter has been through the last arc? I was under the impression this was just to relax and celebrate that Richter is still mostly intact. Besides, we've already gotten something out of Maddalyn. It's pulling teeth but I feel like that's the point, she's always been like this and it won't change overnight. We've been doing nothing besides building trust ever since we got her back and this is going to actively work against that. As much as I'm curious what bullshit is going down, this isn't the way to do it. I have faith that tanq isn't trying to push us in this direction at all considering he'd at least nudge us. In my opinion, the plot is going along just fine and this vote is doing something very very dumb.
>>
>>5323656
Dammit, I'll vote for this just so the write-in doesn't win
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
>>
>>5323736

Fuck it, I'll support this

Finally able to actually make it when you're running.
>>
>>5323656
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
She's literally our wife you incel.
>>
File: pact_ritualshift.jpg (370 KB, 1000x1302)
370 KB
370 KB JPG
>>5323662
>>5323667
>>5324416
>>5324497
>>5324527
Let her have this. She's your wife, after all.

>>5323722
Somehow I get the feeling that yoga isn't the end goal here.

>>5323668
>>5323673
>>5323770
She can be close. Not inside.

>>5323736
>>5323866
>>5324178
>>5324469
>>5324502
A choice- either a secret revealed, or the cold shoulder.

Uhhh.
I didn't actually expect this to be this contentious. I'll allow some more time to see if you can come to a compromise or change any minds, but if not, I'll flip a coin on it in a few hours.

A complete non-sequitur, this is Pact, in "swimwear." I don't know if the person asking for it did it as a joke or not, but I am obligated nevertheless. Not that this would normally be controversial, even with her age, but you see...mountainfolk (which Pact isn't technically but that's another deal) don't actually do bathing suits. When they go to mountain springs and hot springs and the like, they bathe in the nude, with only loincloths for special exceptions.
Obviously that wasn't going to work for this.
So instead, this is a ceremonial shift worn by members of holy orders, whose ritual cleansings are meant to be observed, so the public context requires a nod towards modesty otherwise not considered necessary.
However even that doesn't necessarily work for Pact because she can't properly bathe in mountain springs for...reasons. So she's only dipping her feet in.
It's not good to be honest, I can already tell, but that's what digital correction is for.
>>
>>5324489
>Isn't this supposed to a quiet aside to have a breather from the combat and all that that Richter has been through the last arc? I was under the impression this was just to relax and celebrate that Richter is still mostly intact.

It should be, however, Maddalyn feels otherwise. Or, how Maddalyn wants us to perceive how she feels.

It would be one thing if this was some kind of sexy sister play, pretending to be her sister so we can both have some fun, but she took this in a direction that is insulting and belittling. We went out of our way to find our family's lost sword, ask her to dress a certain way to show her off as much as ourselves, went to a party we probably weren't even comfortable with in the first place, and she pretends to be her sister? We came from the horrors of war, lost friends, allies, and a bit of ourselves, and we come home to this? A future wife who hides behind facades and lies to try to ascertain our "true" thoughts and feelings? That's assuming she was pretending to be her sister in the first place. Ridiculous.

Worse, she isn't lying, that wasn't her, and we only think it was. What's more important than being there for her husband at her own family's outing? Is she even going to be there for our own wedding?

That's why I called those anons pussywhipped for returning the kiss. They have no respect for themselves, nor Richter. Our woman insults us and they just go along with it? Pathetic. At least the anons who voted not tonight have a modicum of self-worth. Escalating to sex would give us an out for our frustrations, show her she needs to make up for either
A.) Lying to us
or
B.) Having her sister cover for her without telling us, whichever way you would rather slice it, and quite literally telling her fuck you.
>>
File: sobbing sink.gif (2.35 MB, 310x294)
2.35 MB
2.35 MB GIF
>>5324538
>digital correction
Naughty bratty Pact needs digital correction!
>>
I'll lay it out for you, anons. "I'm on to your stunt and I didn't like it" is fine. "You owe me" in this case is emotional blackmail, "You must reveal your secrets to me" in this context is being a control freak, and "Do this thing I want or this other thing I want" is a favorite tactic of abusers. If you want to confront Maddalyn, please limit yourselves to that first part and don't make Richter behave like Maddy is his third wife after the last two died at strange circumstances.
>>
>>5324538
Phenomenal job, especially with the left arm and entire bottom half.
>>
>>5324560
We know why she fucking did it or at least we can figure out why. She doesn't trust us and it probably stems from all the, presumably, fucked shit that she had to deal with before. She thinks we're using her or something and thinks we don't trust her with her secrets since we keep asking. It's a shit test and every girl has a phase where it happens. I'm surprised it took this long honestly. Point being, she doesn't trust us to the point where she feels the need to lie to us in this bullshit. The correct course of action, in my opinion, is to let it go so moods subside for now and then bring it up. The other anon >>5324571 lays it out here. We can all agree that this ranges from stupid to a breach of our trust but we can't just pull a shit test on her without it blowing up in both our faces. The only thing this accomplishes is pushing her further away from Richter. We can have the talk or whatever now but just pulling out the "it's either you do what I want or fuck you" will get us nowhere.
>>
>>5324538
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
The write-in is really really bad, I'll switch my vote to kiss
>>
>>5324560
>Is she even going to be there for our own wedding?
That might not be so bad actually; technically all of our relationship problems would be solved if we """accidentally""" married Mathilda instead.
>>
>>5324628
>>5324602
>>5324594
>>5324571
So we chose the wrong sister. Awesome.
>>
>>5323656
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
I won't lie and say I'm totally sure about this course, but I'm too conflicted to really pick anything else. Make her happy at least, embrace the irony that when Maddy is probably at her most sure an trusting Richter would be at his least.
>>
>>5324673
Technically we never had a choice but if we ever did get the opportunity to switch I would strongly consider it at this point. Personally I always thought Mathilda was hotter anyway.
>>
>>5323656
>>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
Id prefer the first choice but thats not winning...
>>
>>5324538
>>Not tonight. She could cuddle with you, but you weren’t feeling romantic.
I know it doesn't make it easy but maybe not even a peck then.

She either tried to trick Richter instead of trusting him (which is most likely), or left to her project without even so much as a goodbye.

Which is worse, suspicion or disdain? I don't know but I want answers to a lot of questions before I feel good about Maddy again.

If she wants to treat Richter this way then we might as well tell her to give him one of those cloth hoods her frankenRichters wear.
>>
>>5323656
>>5323736
You know, thinking again about this, I don't think this is the best choice.
I kinda got to into the idea of playing Richter as the grumpy house wife in the situation...but given the circumstances I suppose it doesn't come off like that.
Anyway changing the vote to
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
But also
>>Other("You owe me that much for the stunt you tried to pull tonight.")
Because come on, she has to make it up to Richter somehow for that shit, how she does it is up to her though, and hopefully we get a healing conversation outta it too
>>
>>5324896
Couldn't even stand by your own convictions, huh?

Changing my vote back to
>>5323682
>>
>>5323656
Huh, surprisingly contentious vote, I still haven't caught up yet but I'll throw my hat in the ring anyways.

>Not tonight. She could cuddle with you, but you weren’t feeling romantic.
>>
File: a04.jpg (14 KB, 360x360)
14 KB
14 KB JPG
>Maddy ITT posting from multiple IPs trying to swing the final vote
Don't you have "important research" you should be doing, you munchkin?

>>5324538
My overall vote remains unchanged, because at this point enough people have flipped that it does not matter. Crabby housewife Richter is an invitability, I am simply embracing fate early here.
>>
Well it's obvious which side "won", if you can even call it that. I know tanq has a really great way to try to incorporate everyone's thoughts and viewpoints into the updates despite losing, but I sincerely hope he writes the update exactly as you want it:
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.

A sardonic take of your inability to have some dignity when it comes to your shrew of a fiancee, dominated by a woman a third of your size, giving in to her whims and desires whenever and wherever she forces yourself on you, and excusing her horrid behavior in the most humiliating way possible. Not showing up for your own debut, she was busy. Deceiving us about being her sister, she doesn't trust us because we haven't earned her trust and she's had a bad relationship and she's had a bad childhood and she's not even married to us and it's not her fault and it's our fault and she doesn't owe us anything and we have to give her everything she wants whenever she wants it no matter how we feel or the situation.

The mental gymnastics you, I can't even call you people, much less men, would take to excuse this woman's actions is inexcusable.

Pussy.
Whipped.
>>
>>5324538
>>5323770
Changing my vote to
>Answer her, return the kiss. She was your fiancée, after all. You couldn’t act coldly to her.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (405 KB, 1000x1353)
405 KB
405 KB JPG
Well, alright then. I doubt I need to recount things too closely for this, though honestly, discussion helps articulate what the general feelings are.
Which translate into Richter's feelings because, well, he's you. If collectively.

Writing.

Since I stuffed on this a whole day, last prototype. The only time I've managed to show something for a whole batch of requests, fancy that, even if they're all pencil sketches.

Do you know who Owl 3 is? No? Winnifred von Lowenkreuz? Still no? Good, because she's a Grossreich spy, and you're better off forgetting.
The Emrean invention of the Atom Suit has taken the east by storm, prompting many fashion and swimwear designers, whether they like it or not, to produce imitations. Such is what is being worn- a Peninsular Smallsuit, similar to the Atom Suit in design but less frilly, less wavy, tighter to the body, and to copy a controversial detail that didn't make it into imports- a thong bottom. The whole thing is truly a revolution for the new era- or so its sellers say.
For a female spy, it's rather ideal for getting attention from those you want it from.

Or perhaps just for fun. After all, Owl 3 won't be keeping her slim beach body for much longer.
>>
>>5325345
I think there's something wrong with the shoulderblades.
>>
Maddalyn tried. Tried again to prompt you to kiss her back- but that decision was no longer as easy as it had been to make, tonight. Was she going to say nothing? Or did she expect you to simply kiss her and pretend like you hadn’t been affronted? Like she hadn’t tricked you, fooled you into believing, even if only for a little bit, that you had everything you’d cared so deeply for disregarded? She’d hurt you, and that sting was still quite raw.

Yet. You couldn’t find it in your heart to ignore her affection. It was what you wanted- and why this hurt so much at all. Only a bit- you responded only a bit, let her in, and touched her tongue with yours, felt her drool run down your cheek.

Maddalyn released you, and put her head on your chest. “…I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

The response from you was sharp. “Sorry for what?” you demanded, “Sorry for telling me that you were your sister, and making me think that you had abandoned me?”
“…I thought you’d figure it out,” Maddalyn said, carefully stepping through her words, “I just…Yes. I’m sorry. I had to-“

“After everything I’ve done,” you said bitterly, “Everything I’ve been through. All that I’ve assured you of, that I am your ally in all things…I could accept not being told everything, I can accept secrets being kept if you aren’t ready to share them, but being lied to, and manipulated? I didn’t come back here for that. Not from you.”
“Richter…” Maddalyn’s voice cracked, “I had to know. I’m…afraid…”

“Afraid of what? Something besides what I’ve already told you matters less to me than you?”

“I only did it because…” Maddalyn sniffed, “I know, I’ve…I’ve done terrible things, ruined many lives, and you looked past all of that. I love you, and all I want is to be worthy of your love. I want to make you happy. I thought that to do that, I would have to…” She sniffed again, more deeply. “I’m sorry, alright? Won’t you kiss me? Touch me, grope me, anywhere you like, anything you wish…I don’t want you to kiss me and be angry. What do you want?”

“…I want you to not deceive me,” you said plainly, “I don’t care about finding out any answers to mysteries, compared to that. I want you to be honest with me, and not try and turn my happiness with you into….into some sort of fantasy where you do your utmost to rip it apart in some silly effort to test me, like I’m one of those duplicates of me you’ve made.”
>>
“Richter…” Maddalyn’s voice was thin, but you were worked up.

“Do you harbor some sort of disdain for me, or are you so suspicious of me that my feelings don’t matter? I want your trust, but I don’t damn well know how I can get it if I don’t even know if the person I’m speaking with, dancing with, hell, marrying is even you! I don’t want to be toyed with, Judge Above, that’s not so much to ask, is it?”
Maddalyn cringed against you, and was quiet after you finished, before sputtering out, “N-no. It…i-it isn’t…”

“It makes me feel terrible, Maddalyn,” you sighed, “I don’t want to feel that way around you, because of you. I can’t accept that happening.”

Maddalyn pushed herself up to your face again. “I can make you feel good…” she said, her voice still cracking as she touched her lips to yours again, “Just let me make up for it…just please don’t turn away…” You allowed her to kiss you once more, as she pushed her tongue past your lips again, and the two of you struggled against one another in your mouths- she, desperately trying to show her remorse, and you fighting against her in a fit of some mind twisting mix of denial and desire. You didn’t want her, but you did- and it frustrated you in a completely unfamiliar way.

“I’m sorry…” Maddalyn said as she gasped for breath, “I won’t do it again…I won’t make you so unhappy again…” It was rather early to make that claim, you thought, but her arms hugged tight around your neck and her heart pounded against you, she straddled you, her butt grinding against your crotch as she separated from you to take hurried breaths, dripping saliva on your chin.

With a raise of your hand you pushed Maddalyn’s face away, and felt her cheek wet with tears.

“I loved dancing with you,” her voice warbled, “I l-loved it, but I spoiled it for you…I said I wasn’t there, so I’ll make up for it like I wasn’t there…just ask…just…do…”

>?
>>
>>5325374
>?
Eh sex out of guilt/shame isn't really the solution to the problem, it's a relationship not a business transaction.

What Richter wants above all else is trust, and that's something that takes ages to develop and can be lost in an instant. So hug her to sleep, but hold her to that promise.
>>
>>5325381
+1
reassure her that we still love her, and that we just need to sleep on this
>>
>>5325374
Supporting >>5325381
Well now she's literally throwing herself at us in apology, with promises so make up for the deception, so I think applying the short cold shoulder approach has made enough of an impression. No more of that now though. Maddy's bearing her heart to us right now, so what we need to give her in return is love and assurance that there's no need to ever do this again, that from now on we'll only grow stronger by working together, that no matter how tough the secrets and obstacles seem to conquer we will manage it, so long as we're honest and supporting eachother. Roses and briars combined make a more beautiful garden and all that romantic tripe.
And by all means, don't leave her hanging, definitely throw in a some heavy petting if Maddy is that insistant, but no breaking marital vows when we're this close to the wedding. We can hold on just that little bit longer and then it's open season on midget butt.
>“I loved dancing with you,” her voice warbled, “I l-loved it, but I spoiled it for you…I said I wasn’t there, so I’ll make up for it like I wasn’t there…just ask…just…do…”
Not like this though, no favours. We don't need Maddy to feel like she's paying us off for the trouble, Richter wouldn't ever think of extorting her love in that way. Once the dust from the wedding has had a little time to settle, then we can make in roads to the mysteries like the grave and so on, and we'll do it together, but for now, our suspicions stop, her silly double crossing stops and we get back to sharing this precious time we have together, black clouds over it as there might be. She said you loved to dance? Well let's make her a promise, that the next time they dance, it'll be without any masks.
>>
>>5325374
"I can make up for anything with sex" or "I have to provide sex every time I think I misstepped", which one is unhealthier?
>>5325381 has the right of it, supporting.
>>
>>5325374
>>5325381
This.
>>5325397
>She said you loved to dance? Well let's make her a promise, that the next time they dance, it'll be without any masks.
Unf, yeah.
That line hits.
>>
>>5325424
>That line hits.
It might, if I hadn't done an awful job not proofreading whilst of switching from first to third person mid sentence like a fucking dumbass. Writing out posts as me/you, then trying to edit it to us/we/Richter gets so confusing sometimes. If really tanq uses our mid-voting posts to pad out Richter's subconscious then it's no wonder our boy's brain is so messed up that it absorbs other characters' perspectives and memories now.
>>
>>5325374
Have sex.
>>
>>5325374
>?
“I only did it because…” Maddalyn sniffed, “I know, I’ve…I’ve done terrible things, ruined many lives, and you looked past all of that. I love you, and all I want is to be worthy of your love. I want to make you happy. I thought that to do that, I would have to…”

"I would have to" what? No, no none of this gay physical shit, she's on the cusp of actually revealing her thought process and wants to bury it in sexual favors.

She's gonna stonewall like normal in the morning, so she can answer that question first of all, she would have to what?

And then if she wants to be all coy and unhelpful further, inform her this behavior indicates to Richter that he can do the same to her. Does this mean he'll have to work around her and be tricky to get the truth out of her? I'm sure she'd hate this precedent.
>>
>>5325345
Wonderful job. The little tongue is exquisite.
>>
>>5325381
>>5325393
>>5325397
>>5325402
>>5325424
Hugs only. Promise a dance.

>>5325485
Pound.

>>5325590
Would have to, what?

Burning this out while I can. Obviously, this will be the last update for this thread, given its place on the board as of now. Writing.
>>
She wanted to appease you- but you didn’t want her to get such ideas that she had to do so in the way she assumed. What you wanted from her wasn’t something you could get right away- nor wanted, if it was something so easy and simple to pull from the air. Love couldn’t be a transaction, an extortion. For that to develop, you just had to…hold on to her.

Though. Just before…to make you happy, she thought she would have to…what?

“I won’t do anything,” you said, as you finally put your arms around Maddalyn and embraced her, not letting her pop up to kiss you further, “I won’t ask you for anything. I don’t want to force it from you.” Then, the question…before she might not want to answer it. “What did you think you had to do…to make me happy?”

“…Anything.” Maddalyn said quietly.

Anything? “What do you mean?”

She was quiet. Nothing else came out, but you could swear she had very softly repeated, anything. Said in a way that felt…odd.

“We’ll dance again,” you finally told her, “That’s what I’d like to do, again. Then, we can do it without any masks.”

“I’d like that,” Maddalyn said. “…Now..?”

No. It was completely dark, and also…you had to sleep. “No. For now, let’s just be like this. Until tomorrow.”

So you could stay together- work together, through this, through anything.

To do anything, though…how many things that could mean.

-----
>>
It was a misty morning at Eisenholzgarten, the Archduke’s holiday home in the foothills of the mountains that split his eastern lands down its middle. A skinny woman with straight, chocolate hair down to her shoulders, wire rimmed half-moon spectacles sitting on her nose, wearing a loose white blouse and black trousers, also had an apron on, equipment to accompany the easel and canvas, the small table set up. One who sought to capture the majesty of the holiday home- though despite it being spring, she painted it in autumn, from its hues.

She froze in her painting when she heard the brush of grass against feet, and turned to see its source. The approach of a short man in all black, with a tall hat and a coat stretched over a small but round stomach. He began to hum and whistle as he came closer, alone, before hooking his thumbs in his trousers and standing before the woman.

“You are the servant of Count Eideln,” she said levelly, “What have you come for?”

“So, my lady,” the singing voice said like it was a children’s song he was reciting, “Archduchess Eliette Von Strossvald. How does that sound to you?”

The woman lowered her brush and put down her pallet, and turned with her arms at her sides. “It sounds as though I ought to call for my guards.”

“There is nobody here, to overhear.”

“Nobody to hear the derringer in my sleeve, either.”

“Is the idea so repugnant to you? I doubt it, my lady,” the man tipped his silk hat, “Of the words to describe you with, the first many think of is ambitious, after all. Why else have you not married, despite your eligibility? You dream of more. Of being more than a castoff from a second wife, an obligation, a forgotten branch better off broken away. How long will you sit and make paintings of past legacy, and neglect creating your own?”

The woman tilted her chin up and turned her head, looking down at the man from her nose. “Speaking those words so casually invites Death to bring you to your Judgment early. Are you an idiot, or does desperation make you plead like one where you can expect nothing but scorn?”

“The latter, to our shame, my lady,” the man smiled slowly, “Our future does not look bright. From your place as the sole living legitimate fruit of his loins, you must see how he is tumbling downwards.”

“It is nothing he has not done before,” the woman said confidently, fists clenched at her sides, “Repulsive as it is to call him my father when he is acting as a wretched miserable cretin, seeking comfort from women as young or younger than I, humiliation and disgust are my companions, but he is a greater man behind that mourning mask of sludge. When it melts away, my nephew will have time to grow into a man, and you and your ilk can leave me to my art.”
>>
“Such a good daughter. Such blind faith in your father. That is what you would have us believe, but we all know better than to play at theater when none are listening but one another. I may play the fool, my lady, but the daughter of the Archduke looks unseemly painted like a clown, herself.”

“…What is your proposal,” the woman said, turning her back but putting a hand to her sleeve.

“The Capital’s bureaucrats are exploiting the Archduke’s absence in his duties. They seek to entrench themselves, and grasp greater and greater hold over the country. Should the boy heir become Archduke too early…he would be a perfect puppet for them. I’m sure you can understand the concerns of some territorial lords.”

“You would ask something of me, then,” the woman said flatly.

“Meet in this location,” the smiling man put a paper on the table and tapped on it, “At this date. There will be a meeting on what to do. So…do you accept?”
The woman flicked her wrist. “The punishment for plotting treason, usurpation, is death,” the two barreled derringer slipped from the woman’s cuff and into her hand, and it twirled on her finger but twice before she pointed it and jammed it into the shocked messenger’s mouth- she grabbed onto his flabby jaw with her other hand. She was a thin woman, but a gun was power over anybody.

“M-my lady-“

“It is not out of spite,” The woman said as she twisted the pistol in the man’s mouth, “You merely cannot be allowed to walk and speak as you surely wish to. For a time, you need to vanish.” She took her glasses off and folded them disdainfully, amber eyes glaring like a lynx. “I am no one’s puppet, and the only song I shall dance to is the music of my own gymnopedie. If the time should come, that shall be what any allies may expect from this crown and scepter.”

-----
>>
Thanks for playing and reading, everybody. I'll take any questions or comments...or requests for sketches, if I may be so bold, for next thread. Not that I think most would want them, but if they're for free, I guess. Though I do have veto power.

As a more relevant note, I'd like to get straight to the wedding next thread- but that'd a leap of about two in-setting weeks, so I'll want to know if there's anything you want to take care of before then, whether it's something you want to go through or if it's something handled retroactively, like wanting to know or investigate certain things.
>>
>>5326032
Thanks for running.

> so I'll want to know if there's anything you want to take care of before then, whether it's something you want to go through or if it's something handled retroactively, like wanting to know or investigate certain things.

Might want to go collect the Kaiser's medallion ourselves personally off-screen, if the honeymoon isn't long after the wedding. Other than that maybe catch up on some reading in the background to regain some of Richter's in-character knowledge.
>>
>>5326032
Thanks for running. You have been improving and it's nice to see.

Could you make a sketch of a younger Major with extremely long hair at night before going to bed in all-black garter belt, see through silk stockings, and stick-on bra looking at a vanity mirror leaning backwards sticking her stomach in while both her arms are behind her head holding up half her hair with both hands as her left leg is bent behind her on the bed and the right foot on the floor making a winking, kissy face?

When do you expect the next thread to be up? Could we try to find some of that mead our father-in-law likes before the wedding or is there not enough time?
>>
>>5326032
>request
Luftpanzers falling out of a plane (intentionally).

>things to do
More reading and marksmanship training
>>
>>5326032
>anything you want to take care of before then
We said to Von Metzeler that we would check with Maddy to see if there is anything she might be able to Trance withdrawal PTSD. Is there anything she can brew up for him or recommend doing that doesn't involve life threatening situations or combat?
>>
>>5326079
>request
Uhh.
That's real specific, and the dimensions for detail may be beyond those of the sketchbook. I'll put it as a firm maybe so long as I edit things for detail, because the Major isn't really the sort to do kissy faces.
>When do you expect the next thread to be up?
A week and a half from now. Just a short break, because it's high time to wrap this arc up. I'm anticipating next thread to cover the wedding and honeymoon and epilogue (for that section at least), so not too much is planned to need to go through.
>Could we try to find some of that mead our father-in-law likes before the wedding or is there not enough time?
It's not so much that mountain mead itself is terribly hard to barter for if you climb up there, it's that the sort he liked was a deeply personal sort of ritual between two people. You could get him mountain mead- but you couldn't get him Miriam Von Blum's (second wife, not the daughter who is named after her) mountain mead, which is an important distinction for him. A difference between an out of the way but simple acquisition- and an utterly impossible one.

>>5326422
>Is there anything she can brew up for him or recommend doing that doesn't involve life threatening situations or combat?
Bringing your wife over to Von Metzeler to look him over is noted now.

>>5326050
>maybe catch up on some reading in the background to regain some of Richter's in-character knowledge.
If there's anything you'd like to see in particular, go ahead and say. Otherwise I'll assume just general knowledge so that he doesn't blank on basic history. Though maybe the world as a whole would prefer that to him rambling...
>>
>>5326638
>If there's anything you'd like to see in particular, go ahead and say. Otherwise I'll assume just general knowledge so that he doesn't blank on basic history. Though maybe the world as a whole would prefer that to him rambling...

Vinstragan geography and current events maybe plus basic history? Military stuff is probably a long term thing
>>
File: Spoiler Image (126 KB, 1126x844)
126 KB
126 KB JPG
>>5326032
Another good run this month, not that we often have bad ones. We even got a bit controversial towards the end this time, but anyway, thanks tanq.
Anons' suggestions for reading up, getting Rondo some help, etc. are all good, so consider them all my vote too.
>I'll take any questions or comments...or requests for sketches
Now you've done it :^)
Did Richter stuff the taxidermied trophy animals in his old bedroom by himself? Is the preservation technique one he still remembers?
Regarding the parade artillery that the Military Council's occupation government had allowed King Wlad to retain haha how'd that work out for you, pepperheads lmao, just how "antique" are we talking, considering how capable those guns proved themselves to be in kicking off the revolution?
Would the fort in Todesfelsen's 15cm guns have been of a similar age or were those more recently scavenged pieces? While on the subject of those particular guns and their age, based on how devastating their effect was on our own armoured column, are the chemical incendiary munitions they used still commonly used on the modern battlefield or were they yet another barborous relic since penned away that found a nice home in Sosaldt?
I cope and I seethe over the lack of references to model the earthshaker artillery batteries after in the Vang Republic themed IG guard army I'm building. I just feel like the 6cm mountain guns we captured during the storm don't lend themselves to the hurr grimdurrk spess gun! upscalling necessary to fit in quite as well as purpose built siege guns should. That and the idea of scratchbuilding some giant clunky, Emrean war vintage cast and riveted gun carriages in plastic really activates my coconut.
So, with that, may I request a sketch of some of the quest's more notable big guns in the future? It wouldn't necessarily have to be ready by the next thread or even the one after that, I'll be building this stuff for another year at least anyway, so no pressure there.
If one were to get greedy and double dip however, a pencil sketch of Mabel in a bloody apron would be cool too I guess.
>>
>>5326032
Also for sketches, could you do one for the Griffin tankers in Sosaldt/Netilland? Since we didn't interact with them all that much.
>>
>>5326651
>Did Richter stuff the taxidermied trophy animals in his old bedroom by himself? Is the preservation technique one he still remembers?
He did not- he brought them back and had such done. He goes as far as gutting and skinning- but not mounting and chemicals, to put it in some sort of way.

>Regarding the parade artillery that the Military Council's occupation government had allowed King Wlad to retain, just how "antique" are we talking, considering how capable those guns proved themselves to be in kicking off the revolution?
Not antique enough to be useless- certainly not blackpowder cast iron guns, for example, but certainly pieces with inferior range and transportability, and general size. They still belong in a museum, but were close enough to more modern systems to still be of use- though their not being used was based more off of the Netillians believing Wladysaw was in their pocket than purposely giving over things that could not be used.
Suffice it to say, he was underestimated in his preparations for different...options.

>Would the fort in Todesfelsen's 15cm guns have been of a similar age or were those more recently scavenged pieces?
Both, honestly. Heavy weaponry came to Sosaldt in a few ways- one was corrupt army officials from all over selling off equipment where no paper trail would exist, another is the completely above board importation into the Southern Cities- and dissemination from there, whilst the last primary method is the duplication of equipment by a few specialized heavy armories, such as the more famous Arsenal South. As a satellite of the Southern Cities, Todesfelsen was able to get access to some better toys than most- but hardly disposed of older gear just because they had new.

>While on the subject of those particular guns and their age, based on how devastating their effect was on our own armoured column, are the chemical incendiary munitions they used still commonly used on the modern battlefield or were they yet another barbarous relic since penned away that found a nice home in Sosaldt?
They most certainly are still in use. Count yourself lucky to not have had a repeat experience. Treaties between countries tend to restrict usage of chemical weapons, but incendiary chemicals are not often put under that banner. Strossvald certainly still keeps its bomber fleet well stocked with incendiaries, given their past effectiveness.

>So, with that, may I request a sketch of some of the quest's more notable big guns in the future? It wouldn't necessarily have to be ready by the next thread or even the one after that, I'll be building this stuff for another year at least anyway, so no pressure there.
I can do that, sure.

>If one were to get greedy and double dip however, a pencil sketch of Mabel in a bloody apron would be cool too I guess.
It's not really a matter of quantity to be honest- but one of me being rather slow at all this. So I'd expect a wait, or for me to need a reminder.
>>
>>5326711
>Also for sketches, could you do one for the Griffin tankers in Sosaldt/Netilland? Since we didn't interact with them all that much.
I've done a drawing of them, or more specifically, their tanks, in the past. I can do another one, though, perhaps with more focus on the men than their equipment. Especially considering at least a few of them would be the same sorts that had this >>5326400 done to their equipment.
Remember, Luftpanzer aerial deployment involving low altitude platform drops are under no circumstances to take place while any crew are in or even near the tank, considering the failure rate of out-the-back low altitude deployment.
>>
>>5326760
That's fair. How about a sketch of their transport plane instead?
>>
>>5326032
Thanks for running tanq.
Others have already suggested what I was thinking, marksmanship and the imperial seal, so I'll just asks some questions.
How long specifically has Richter been shooting for? I recall he was shooting in around his early teens but that could also be my shit memory.
Speaking of memory, I assume Richter already tried looking into his old memory and shooting off that and failed? Forgive my shit memory it's been a while.
Also, isn't the Imperial Seal a 1 time use thing? Would this visit be us burning that use or would this be different due to our Iron friend's insistance?
>>
Page 11, spicy. Probably will be booted off by the time I wake up again.

>>5326764
That can be done.
Though funnily enough, because the proper heavy glider that would otherwise be used for assault deployment of Luftpanzers and other heavy airborne equipment wasn't ready, the textbook way for such planes to deploy their load is by landing on an airfield after it was captured- out the back was near improvised and not ever executed in the field.
Yet, thanks to lucky dice, the first combat use of it to deploy tanks was an incredible success.
I say this even though I presume most were here for that, but won't assume that everybody did read Luftpanzer.

>>5326767
>How long specifically has Richter been shooting for? I recall he was shooting in around his early teens but that could also be my shit memory.
Early teens is about right.
>Speaking of memory, I assume Richter already tried looking into his old memory and shooting off that and failed?
He can remember shooting- but not how he did it. It might sound strange, because it is. The prior experienced execution has died and flopped out messily on the ground and withered away.
>Also, isn't the Imperial Seal a 1 time use thing? Would this visit be us burning that use or would this be different due to our Iron friend's insistence?
It would be taken upon the completion of your visit. It isn't passage for entry to the Reich, though- it's specifically to meet the Kaiser. Presumably, if you were considered worth further meetings, another seal might be presented.
>>
>>5326802
Yeah the dice gods were with us on the ADR rolls.

Does Strossvald have any airborne units of its own?
>>
I expected this to be gone by now. Oh well.
>>5327329
>Does Strossvald have any airborne units of its own?
It does not. Paratroopers are looked on with interest, but given how a majority of infantry are sourced from the territories and the general neglect of the air force in the first place, airborne troops are seen as an extravagance for the Archduchy in particular- compared to beefing up the Battle Line. Whether this is a mistake is debated, considering the heavy (and successful) use of paratroopers by the Grossreich and it being invested into by Netilland, but as it stands, Strossvald has no paratroopers.
It does help Netilland in particular that its army structure was heavily centralized, as opposed to the Archduchy's heavy decentralization.
>>
>>5327339
Speaking of neglected air forces, do lighter than air craft play much of a role in the armed forces of the continent's major players these days? Did they ever, or was the technology never exploited for war in the first place, and if it was, what killed them?



Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.