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Today is Saturday, 3 June 1950, and you just finished locking up your bar and grill. It's two o' clock in the morning and the American sky is still foreign to you, but you don't think you'll see the skies of your native Brandenburg again.

The war has left its mark, even in America. The buildings of Houston are a mix of old construction, new shantytowns, and the squat concrete barracks of the Internal Security Force and their families. Many buildings have bullet holes from rebels shooting at ISF goons. Of course, the biggest scar of the war is Sidarxi outpost, a walled enclave of pseudo-organic, arthropodic buildings. From there, the alien empire rules.

The war left its mark on the people. Everywhere you go, you see pinned sleeves. As you walk back, a legless veteran begs for change on a small cart, pushing himself with broken chair legs. You give him a five-dollar greenback. He smiles.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Ost,” you say, slipping into your native tongue.

“Here,” he says, “My home.”

You nod and move on your way. As you skirt around the Japantown that sprung up after the war, you see a small crowd of vets moving purposefully.

“Fritz!” calls someone, evidently recognizing you. You are a bit curious about this congregation, but you don't want anything you do to inadvertently bring harm to your sister. Not fighting is hard to swallow since you distinctly recall the mass graves left in the wake of the advancing army. It was normal for two to be shot for every partisan casualty; you can see the bloated and twisted corpses and shudder at the thought of that happening to Elise.

“Fritz, I know you've got something on your mind, but I know how you feel about the situation.”

[ ] Talk with the man who seems to know you
[ ] Follow the group
[ ] Ignore and go home
[ ] Other
>>
>>27084917
>[ ] Talk with the man who seems to know you
>>
>>27084917
>[x] Talk with the man who seems to know you
>>
>>27084917
>[x] Talk with the man who seems to know you
But make sure that if the conversation starts to go into dangerous areas, we stop talking; talking out in the open like this is unsecure.
>>
Okay writing for

>[ ] Talk with the man who seems to know you

Post should be up by 1:40 at the latest
>>
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You approach and grab his arm and whisper for him to be more quiet.

“I get it Fritz, but how could you forget me? Don't you remember your old squad leader?”

He pulls down his hood, and you see Kurt Lang's ugly face, a web of burn scars from a glancing blaster hit at Stalingrad. A single cyclopean eye looks me up and down, and then he pulls me into a big, strong hug. The years certainly haven't done much to diminish his bearlike strength..

“Kurt, it's been so long! How have you been?” you say, happy to speak your mother tongue again.

“As well as I can manage. I've been running a motorcycle shop, and those things are child's play compared to the armor.”

“Yeah, however, speaking of the armor, would you like to come with me. We've been making a few improvements to the old gals.”

This is treasonous, rebellious action. Nothing good can come if, even if you want to see the aliens smashed and booted off your planet.

[ ] Follow Kurt
[ ] Politely decline
[ ] Other
>>
>>27085455
follow kurt

OP cn we please have blonde hair and blue eyes
>>
>>27085455
> [x] Politely decline
We have a sister we need to take care off. Who knows what will happen to her if we get caught?
>>
>>27085455
>follow kurt
>>
>>27085455

>[ ] Follow Kurt

DEATH TO THE VILE XENOS.
>>
>>27085637
>DEATH TO THE VILE XENOS.

Xenos are good all things considered. They haven't wiped out the humans and taken over the planet like you'd suspect inter-stellar empire to do.
>>
>>27085455
>[ ] Follow Kurt
I have no idea as to what is going on, but that armour looks awesome and I want to see it made use of.
>>
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>>27085637
>DEATH TO THE VILE XENOS.
Just wanted to say that I warned you, op.
>>
Calling for

>[ ] Follow Kurt

Expect a post in 15-20 minutes.
>>
>>27085722
I've been aware of it since I formulated the idea.

Also, this guy

>>27085706
>>
>>27085750
>Also, this guy

W-what about me?
>>
>>27085773
You raised a good point
>>
>>27085890
no he didnt hes retarded dont egg him on
>>
Rolled 9

>>27085455
>[ ] Follow Kurt
"of course I would love to see your motorcycles"
>>
>>27085530
>We have a sister we need to take care off.
Which we can only rightfully say we did everything we could for her once the Sidarxi are dead.
>>27085890
He was a bleeding heart faggot. Death to the xenos.
>>
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“Alright, Kurt. I'll take a look.”

“Thanks, Fritz. I know you've tried to distance yourself from the war.”

“Yeah, but its not like I've lost the same feelings that made me fight back then.”

The path you take with Kurt and his friends takes you down the empty streets to the large concrete tube of a sewage tunnel. It's all dried up now, years after the war . The siege had targeted the water systems of the city.

Your boots wallow in the grime of dessicated shit. It still smells bad, like the all the corpses once the spring had thawed out the icy Russian plains.

As you go further, bare bulbs light the way. Kurt opens up a soundproofed door and leads you into an enlarged section of the tunnel. You hear the clattering of machines, mostly hand tools. What you find is a veritable arsenal. The armor is familiar, retaining the old sensibilities of the original Japanese machines. The helmet is a close-fitting design, American in origin. Underneath the plates, you can see motorcycle chains replacing the steel cables that made the armor move with you, become a part of your body.

“Would you like to give it a shot?” asks Kurt, “Maybe even stay for the speech. There's a storm coming, Fritz, and I don't think you just want to sit idly as it blows through.”

[ ] You can stay.
[ ] Just examine the armor
[ ] Leave now
[ ] Other
>>
>>27086108
examine le armor

please be swaggin
>>
>>27086108
>Just examine the armor
>>
Rolled 2

>>27086108
>[ ] You can stay.
>>
>>27086108
examine the armor and stay
>>
>>27085750
>>27085722
>>27085637

QUICK!
Introduce a cute alien waifu! That is the only way people wont go on Xeno purging rampage!
>>
>>27086108
>Just examine the armor
>>
>>27086237
>implying she wont just become their rapeslave
>>
I don't think I made the options as clear as they should have been.

[ ] Stay = "Examine the armor and stay"
[ ] Examine the armor = "Examine the armor and leave"
>>
>>27086237
nigga i promise to samefag vote for killing aliens every time we have a chance

>>27086293
examine and leave, id like to learn alittle more about the world. And more about ourselves. And less about freaky cyclops
>>
>>27086290
Wouldn't be too sure about that. Depends how DM would write it.
>>
[ ] Stay = "Examine the armor and stay"
>>
I'd like to make count just to make sure I am on the same page as you, and that nobody has changed their vote.

Examine and Leave
>4 Votes

Examine and Stay
> 3 Votes

I'm leaving the voting window open for 5 more minutes.
>>
>>27086293
[ ] Examine the armor = "Examine the armor and leave"
>>
>>27086375
examine and leave
>>
>>27086293
[X] Stay = "Examine the armor and stay"
>>
>>27086375

[X] Stay = "Examine the armor and stay"
>>
>>27086375
>[ ] Examine the armor = "Examine the armor and leave"
>>
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Part 1

“I think I'd like to take a look,” you say.

“Sure thing,” says Kurt.

You approach the armor, internally cringing at the helmets lack of a resemblance to a Stahlhelm, but those are merely your Wehrmacht aesthetic sensibilities. Rap at the thick cuirass.

“The protection scheme is a little different from the old designs. The baseplate is, of course, steel, as well as the outer plate. However, there is a series of water-filled cells designed to explode outward when struck by a blaster bolt. Behind that is a layer of glass instead of the usual fused silica.”

“Not a good enough furnace?” you ask.

“More like we don't have access to a sufficient quantity of pure quartz.”

You grimace. It probably works, but you'd feel better with something familiar.

“How's the powerplant?” you ask.

“We're using a 200cc V-2 diesel to run an electrical generator to pull the muscle-chains. It's more efficient than the old petrol engines and much more flexible in terms of fuel.”

“Chains?”

“Easier to come by than steel cable, even if they are a bit bulker.”

You look and the empty sentinel. Despite its rough, unpolished appearance, as compared to the relative sophistication of wartime suits, you can almost feel an unyielding strength. You can also feel the hatred of the armor, as if channelling the anger of its creators.
>>
Part 2

>>27086835

“I like it, Kurt.”

“I thought you would. It comes with a combined 12.7mm rifle and 77mm rocket launcher.”

Kurt take a massive hunk of steel from a rack. You whistle appreciatively. What you would have given for that sort of combined capability back in the war. You can almost imagine the frightful, shield smashing effects of rifle and the tank-killing rocket launcher all in one gun. Maybe you would have killed a few more. Maybe, the aliens would have gone home

“Thanks a lot, Kurt. But I think I need to go.”

“No problem, Fritz. I know you won't go informing the ISF; you hate them about as much as the aliens.”

He extends his hand, which you take and draw him into a brotherly hug.

“I missed you, Kurt.”

“I hope I can see you again on the frontline. Come visit me at my motorcycle shop if you want in.”

You wave and leave the underground arms factory. You start to think that the rumors of a united offensive are more than just rumors.
>>
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>>27086850

You back home, passing through the poorly maintained asphalt and concrete. Your shoes kick up dust as you walk through the gravel pit and take a right past the junkyard to the apartment complex.

You clank up the iron stairs and make your way to your apartment. With a quick turn of the keys, you are in. It's late, you want a damn shower. You take off your shoes, something Hojo got you in the habit of doing when the two of you were rooming together, and walk to the bathroom. You let the lukewarm water take you away for a few, relaxing minutes.

As usual, the face that stares back at you looks like shit. Your eyes are starting to get bloodshot: too damn late. You faintly smile as look look at your bare chest. Over your heart is a patchwork of angry, old scar tissue, scorching away part of the black cross tattooed on your breast. Even after it all, you still can't feel a twinge of pride for your Fatherland. You put on a pair of pajama and step out, ready for bed.

And someone starts banging on the door.

“Piss off!” you yell.

“Ieyo, humane! Florzayano dum ISF soka! Ai'gostus!”

Before your mind can translate the Verdos Sidarxei into a human tongue, one of the policemen barks the order in English, though the translation isn't an exact one.

“Citizen, this Fleet Intelligence and Internal Security Force! Open up!”

[ ] React angrily
[ ] React politely
[ ] Other
>>
>>27086877
ANGRY

OP you never answered are we beautiful and aryan?
>>
>[ ] React politely
>>
>>27086877
React with mock politeness.
>>
>>27086888

>As usual, the face that stares back at you looks like shit. Your eyes are starting to get bloodshot: too damn late. You faintly smile as look look at your bare chest. Over your heart is a patchwork of angry, old scar tissue, scorching away part of the black cross tattooed on your breast

what the fuck do you think
>>
>>27086919
in the post it says nothign about blonde hairand blue eyes you dirty mudslinger
>>
>>27086877
angry
>>
>>27086877
angry
>>
Writing for an angry reaction.
>>
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“What are you doing here?” you yell.

“Open up, citizen!” booms the ISF goon.

“Fine, fine; but I certainly don't appreciates social calls. I haven't done anything wrong.”

But you know that you have. You hope that this is has nothing to do with your reunion with Kurt. If it does, they might find out who you really are, and then your far-away sister might be in danger. Torture, rape, murder, only God knows what the aliens would do to her.

You open the door and two assault rifles point in your face.

“Hands up, Mr. Heller.”

You smile not-so-nicely and put your hands up and behind your head ever so slowly. You take your damn sweet time, ignoring the prodding muzzles.

“Fuck off.”

One of them slams a gauntleted fist into your solar plexus, taking the wind right out of you. You slowly stand back up, this time because of pain rather than because of spite. You see the half-dozen ISF troopers make a hole for the Sidarxi officer to enter. She would be lovely, but her thin, arrogant smile just makes you want to snap that elegant neck. You take a look at the holographic patches on her uniform: Fleet Intel and Commandoes with a European Front ribbon over her breast pocket. You groan internally.

“Frederick Heller -may I call your Fred- I hope that you haven't been treated too roughly by my men.”

She looks you up and down, smirking.

“Well, any more than what you brought on yourself. Regardless, I'd like to have a friendly chat. May I have a little something to drink? Coffee or tea would be lovely.”

[ ] “It would be a little friendlier if your 'friends' would leave.”
[ ] “Let's cut to the chase because I want you out of her ASAP.”
[ ] “I don't know why you're here. I've done nothing wrong.”
[ ] Other
>>
>>27087447
[ ] “It would be a little friendlier if your 'friends' would leave.”
for hostage taking reasons
>>
>>27087447
Punch her in the throat
>>
>>27087447
>It would be a little friendlier if your 'friends' would leave.”
>>
>>27087447
[x] “I don't know why you're here. I've done nothing wrong.”

See how cooperation works. She's an intel spook and commando. Best to not act any differently than a put-upon and oppressed human.
>>
>>27087447
>the terrifying alien conquerors are petite chocolate space elves

we better break their fucking throats dread nought
if this shit becomes waifu or fetishy i swear on me mum m8
>>
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>>27087585
We are going to stab them.
I am angry! ANGRY ABOUT ELVES!

[x] “It would be a little friendlier if your 'friends' would leave.”
>>
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>>27087585
It shouldn't. I don't intend to write Brown Elf Sex: The Quest.
>>
>>27087447
>[ ] “Let's cut to the chase because I want you out of her ASAP.”
>>
Calling it for

>It would be a little friendlier if your 'friends' would leave.”

Expect a post in the usual timeframe
>>
>>27087447
>Being polite to alien scum like you isn't my cup of tea
>>
You look at the species-traitor cops; you then look at her. The entire situation is just peachy. However, maybe you could talk without a dozen rifles pointed at your head. It was worth a shot.

“Maybe it would be a little friendlier if your 'friends' would leave.”

“My apologies, Fred. I can understand how you might be a little uncomfortable. This is more like a reunion than an interrogation. Sergeant, take your men outside for the time being.”

The armored sergeant salutes and ISF troopers, with their bright white clamshell armor leave your apartment.

“Hello, Herr Heller,” she says in German, “Get me a drink.”

You stay silent. Maybe she's thinking of someone else.

“I know you can understand me, Herr Heller. Friedrich Luther Heller, born in 1925 in Brandenburg, Germany. The Friedrich Heller who enlisted in the Heer at 17 and joined the Gepanzertgrenadieren. You fought at Stalingrad under Paulus as part of the 36th “Crusader” Battalion, continuing to fight until the end of hostilities in 1944, when you and other renegade forces secured passage to America where you might hide amongst its melting pot of nations. You have a sister, one Erika Ilse Heller, who currently lives in the former Germany. Is this all correct, Herr Heller?” she says in your mother tongue.

You almost flinch with every damning fact she states.

“The laws are still on the books for executing renegades like you. First, I'd like a drink.”
>>
Grudgingly, you make a kettle of ersatz coffee cut with chicory. You silently hand her a steaming mug. She smiles.

“Excellent, I like it black.”

You sit down at the unstained wooden table with your own mug of coffee. It lies untouched as she savors her own cup.

“Of course, I can summarily execute you here and now, Friedrich. However, there is something useful that a renegade like you can do for me.”

“And you are?” you ask, barely containing your venom.

“Captain Yezrina, Fleet Intelligence, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

[ ] What sort of plan?
[ ] What about my sister?
[ ] What makes me so special?
[ ] Other
>>
>>27088197
Punch her in the throat, the cops can't help her right now
>>
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>>27088225
The problem is, if we kill an intelligence officer and run, they are probably going to do bad, bad things to our sister.
>>
>>27088197
>[ ] What sort of plan?
>[ ] What about my sister?
>[ ] What makes me so special?

eh... all three?
>>
>>27088298
So you'd rather betray your entire race?
>>
>>27088329
I'd rather play along for now.
>>
>>27088329
I'd rather kill her in a quiet, intelligent manner. We're a soldier, not a warrior. We're effectively behind enemy lines, and she's presumably here to ask us to be a double-agent. So, we become a triple-agent. We plot and plan and eventually we murder the fuck out of her and her entire race. We don't just punch this one random space elf, get gunned down, and achieve nothing.
>>
>>27088197
[X] What makes me so special?
>>
>>27088531
Oh, and as an addendum to this - keep her talking as much as possible. Every bit of information she spills gives us more to go on later. But *don't* bring up our sister again. Otherwise we're just showing her our weak point to manipulate us with.
>>
>>27088559
oh that's smart
yeah, don't mention our sister
>>
I'm keeping the voting window open for ten more minutes.
>>
so we all know it's not rape if it's an elf, but does that still apply if it's a space elf?
>>
Do these two work?

>[ ] What sort of plan?
>[ ] What makes me so special?
>>
>>27088798
what makes me so special?
>>
>>27088798
yeah

OP, you're way too slow, you're going to kill your quest if you continue like that
>>
>>27088798
Sounds good to me
>>
“I suppose I'll cooperate. What sort of plan is this?”

She smiles and crosses her legs.

“First, I am aware of the little rebellion that is currently preparing to launch its offensive according to the principles of your so-called 'Rommel Tactics.' Theoretically, it could be shut down right now. It would be crushing, generation destroying fight – Nothing New on Earth as it were.”

“Well, why is this relevant?”

“Because of our plans for humanity. To put it simply, there is faction wants your species dead and another that wants to use you. A planetary rebellion is, of course, a perfect causus belli to exterminate your species. This is bad for you both personally and collectively.”

“So what's in it for me?”

“First of all, you won't be executed. Second, no harm is going to come to your family if you do as I say. I'll even let you visit them. You are going to be my bullet, and not the indiscriminate kind addressed 'to whom it may concern,' but a bullet with someone's name on it.”

“What makes me so special then? Why not some other disgruntled vet? I'm sure there are thousands of them.”

“It's a certain sense of familiarity. I already knew about you.”

[ ] Take the offer
[ ] Inquire further (reader's choice)
[ ] Other
>>
>>27089272
>[ ] Inquire further (reader's choice)

what do you mean you knew about me

and what about this rebellion, what exactly do you know?
>>
>>27089335

also ask about those factions
>>
>>27089272
>[X] Inquire further

>use us for what?
>>
>>27089272
>[ ] Inquire further (reader's choice)
Do you catan?
>>
Writing for the questions posed.
>>
>>27089272
Theres probabbly lots of rebellions going on. What makes you think I have any involvement?
>>
so while op is typing, can someone fill me in on the fluff? was there a planning thread that I missed?
>>
>>27089522
I'm actually going to use this. Thanks for posting.
>>
>>27089552
Rah.

What branch of intel is she? Im getting the humint vibe, though theyre certanly tracking our phone, money, e-mail, probabbly via finding out where we are through our sister...

no more contact with her. Phone battery comes out from now on. Get ready for makeup, beard, new tattoos, living off cash...
>>
>>27089610
Also, theyve not been tracking our every move. They waited for us to be at our house, rather than say... our garage. Either position of power, or they only know a small amount of what is going on currently.

What kind of preperations have we made? weapons? ammo? maps? supplies?
>>
>>27089610

>email
>1950
>>
>>27089725
Electronic mail, IMs, IP's, site registration, phone, texts, everything.
>>
“There are probably several rebellions going on. What makes you think I have any involvement?”

This is dangerous ground, but you might as well broach the subject.

“You keep interesting friends, Her Heller, or do your friends call you 'Fritz?' From what my surveillance has gleaned, not until tonight did you have any involvement with any rebel group.”

“Out of curiosity, how did you find me?”

“Cross-referencing military records. Then I had to find a few old customs officials and falsified cargo manifests. Due to its vastness, America was a pain; but there were enough people in the loop that I was able to utilize to narrow my search. Everybody talks. Your sister knows nothing about our little talk, but I do have people watching her.”

“That still doesn't explain how you can claim to know me?”

“Stalingrad. I too was there and I did at one point fight your old Crusader Battalion.”

That night with the commandoes. That means that she. You briefly drift back to that claustrophobic action in the underground tunnels of the bombed-out metro. Bolts flew and muzzles flashed in the darkness. One third of the battalion fell there. Tearing off a half-molten helmet. You should have died.

She smiles at you, “Of course, let's let bygones be bygones.”

“So, what about your internal struggle?”

“You can call the anti-human faction the Isdrirum. They have maneuvered themselves into key positions within the Occupation Forces.”

“Well, what do your buddies want to use humanity for?”

“Things beyond you, soldier. I can promise that they are better than extermination”

[ ] Press on about what they want for humanity
[ ] How does she expect you to “be her bullet”
[ ] Take the deal and ask her to leave.
[ ] Other.
>>
>>27089921
>[X] Press on about what they want for humanity
>[X] How does she expect you to “be her bullet”
we need to know what we're getting into.
>>
>>27089921
[ ] Press on about what they want for humanity
>>
Voting window closes in five minutes
>>
>>27089921
>>27089958
We need more information. As much as we can get.
>>
>>27089921
So you have nothing on me, but what we have going on here. You keep mentioning a sister, but unless im mistaken, I buried her body a very long time ago.

That being said, you have perked my interest somewhat. How could a subjugated race be in any way useful beyond propaganda and fuzzy kittens? That, and how do you expect me to be, your 'bullet'.

Stand, its time to start making dinner.

nonchalance, dont let her break bearing. We need to come out of the situation with a clear head, and a good idea as to how to get ontop of things.
>>
>>27090124
So you have nothing on me but a paper-trail, a few words, and some very unintelligent paper-pushers forgetting to do their jobs. As for my sister, I buried her body a very long time ago.

(For this, as far as were concerned, we dont have family. Anything she says about our sister, anything we react to, puts her in more danger than if they had a gun to her head.)
>>
These are all good posts.

Writing now.
>>
BRB, dinner calls
>>
“So, how exactly is some low-tech, subjugated slave race useful to an interstellar empire?”

She sips at her coffee before answering your question.

“Because it is useful for there to be an allied client state controlling a lane like this. The universe is bigger than just the Empire.”

“Your people want a disposable ally.”

She frowns, “Essentially. I'd personally favor a more familial type of alliance, but the final outcome is more or less out of my hands. That's part of the experiment of cooperation with the ISF, who coincidentally serve as a sort of gendarmerie. Does that satisfy you, my picky friend?”

“I suppose it does. But –“

“– Don't lie to me about your sister. She and I had a chat, as she was an obvious lead on my little manhunt. Of course, she was very frightened, moreso when I placed her under house arrest. Everything worked out, and she is unharmed if worried about her older brother.”
You're almost at ease, but the fact of the matter is that she could be lying to your face.

“How am I supposed to do what you want?”

She uncrosses and crosses her legs again.

“We're going to create a little unit and acquire some equipment. I understand that you used to wear the armor.”

[ ] Propose some stipulation (what?)
[ ] Be a pleasant host before asking her to leave
[ ] Take the deal, and ask her to leave
[ ] Other
>>
>>27090654
Uhuh.
I did wear the armor.
Key word: Did. Youre asking me to pick up a sword ive already beaten into a plow. Whats in it for me.
>>
>>27090703

She did mention above that she could just summarily execute Fritz. She's also holding his sister's safety over him.
>>
>>27090654
[ ] Be neither pleasant nor rude before asking her to leave.
Offer whatever is customary (tea, coffee) but just act normally.
>>
>>27090730
Which we have no way of knowing if she has taken that path, merely that we are a useful tool to her, and that while we are in excellent graces at the moment, we should shake her for everything shes worth, then kill her, dispose of the body, and save our sister.

All without pointing a single finger in our direction, and making it look like its one of her species that killed her.
>>
>>27090823
That's silly.
[ ] Be a pleasant host before asking her to leave
Let's play along for now. She's pretty much trapped us.
>>
>>27090654
>[ ] Be a pleasant host before asking her to leave
>>
>>27090654
Make something up about our sister, like a dog, or change the name of her dog if she has one, and ask how it was doing when she saw her.

"And if I do put on the armor again and be your bullet who would you fire me at?"
>>
>>27090931
my vote
>>
Calling it for some variation

>Entertain her briefly before asking her to leave
>>
>>27090931
Do this
>>
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Grovel and kiss her boots.
>>
Considering her threat of execution, wouldn't it be smarter to play along?

Maybe act as a double agent?
>>
>>27091181
Pretend to, at least.

So OP, why in gods name did an alien race invade Earth? Seeing as how 'resources' are an unrealistic and shitty reason to invade a planet, especially when it's an interstellar empire.
>>
“I suppose so, but I'll be frank. I don't like it.”

The captain shrugs, “I don't need your love and admiration.”

You still aren't sure about your sister, so you decide to test her.

“How's old Walter doing?” you ask, naming some fictional dog, “Has she been taking good care of him?”

Yezrina laughs, “Nice try, but she did have a dog, a Doberman that she purchased a few years after the war. I can arrange for you to visit Erika in the old country.”

That could just as well be a lie, but you get the feeling that it isn't.

“Is there anything else that you would like to know?”

She stands up and moves to your bookshelf with its modest collection of literature. Yezrina smiles as she traces the titles along the spines.

“Who is your favorite German writer and why?”

That's certainly an odd request. You look at her again and see that she is nodding appreciatively as she further examines your collection.

[ ] Erich Remarque
[ ] Johann Goethe
[ ] Ernst Junger
[ ] Other
>>
>>27091271
OP, consider the fact that the average /tg/ poster probably isn't well versed in german literature. You should give summaries.
>>
>>27091271
Ernst Junger. Seems like the moderate choice of the two.

Alternatively, grin and say Adolf Hitler.
>>
>>27091271
Einstein. His papers changed the way we view the world. Why do you ask?
>>
>>27091250
Earth is nearby a strategic intersection of hyperspace lanes.

They figured they might as well do something about the locals. Conflicting interests led them to compromise by subjugating Earth.

>>27091292

>Erich Maria Remarque
Most notable for his 1929 novel, All Quiet on the Western Front (Im Westen Nichts Neues). He was quite prolific and would have finished his fifth novel, Three Comrades, before the alien invasion began.

>Johann Goethe
Most notable for his play, Faust. He also wrote the tragedy Goetz von Berlichigen and the novel, Sorrows of Young Werther

>Ernst Junger
Another WW1 veteran author like Remarque. He was quite pro-war. His most famous work was Storm of Steel, his WW1 narative.
>>
>>27091404
Why not the moon?

I vote for welcoming our space elf overmistress.
>>
>>27091271
"Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

He was far more than just an author and he was far ahead of his time both in his scientific studies and his writings. He didn't confine himself to any one genre or writing style. And he understood that people are far from rational and probably never will be rational."
>>
>[X] Scream "FUSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" and shoot a grenade which bounces off his armoured shoulder plate
>>
Rebelling against aliens is kinda complex. At this point in technology, you can only convince them to leave without being spiteful and using WMDs on you.

I wonder how well a bullet & ballot box strategy could work.
>>
>>27091430
His scientific studies are also really cool and forward thinking. I just tend to think more of his literary achievements.
>>
>>27091444
Maybe the rebels have a macguffin
>>
The german who wrote space elf - human bdsm erotica.
>>
>>27091444
What if... Bear with me... What if we have sex with the ruler of their empire? You know. DO a sort of James T kirk sort of thing?
>>
>>27091271
[X] Johann Goethe
>>
>>27091271
[X] Erich Remarque
>>
Junger or Goethe
>>
Calling it for Goethe
>>
>>27091404
Ernst Junger.
>>
>>27091404
>[X] Ernst Junger
>>
>>27091404
Goethe
>>
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“I'm a fan of Goethe, myself,” you say.

“Oh really? Why do you like him?”

“He was far more than just an author and he was far ahead of his time both in his scientific studies and his writings. He didn't confine himself to any one genre or writing style. And he understood that people are far from rational and probably never will be rational.”

“That's interesting,” she says, “I'm not as well-versed in German literature as I would like to be. You humans have a surprisingly well-developed literary tradition; we had never encountered another race that seemed to love the art of storytelling as much as us until finding you humans. Maybe you would enjoy reading some Sidarxi literature if you ever get the chance.”

You smile wryly and say, “Maybe I would.”

She spends some more time perusing your collection, especially the volumes of Goethe you have. It seems that you may have piqued her interest. You follow her as she goes to the door.

Before leaving, she amicably says in English, “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Heller. I'll be sending an associate of mine to deal with you tomorrow. I'm afraid that I'm quite busy.”

“You're welcome, Captain,” you say.

Then she leaves. Rosy dawn is already starting to peak over the horizon. Right now, all you want to do is sleep. It's been a long night.
>>
>>27092190
Have a nice night of sleep then?
>>
Thanks for a good thread. I plan on running again tomorrow from around 12:00-7:00 Eastern (1:00-8:00 Central).

Any questions, comments, etc?
>>
>>27092190
So that how our captain look like?
>>
Not quite. There's a bit more sensibility and a bit sexy. Broadly, yes.

I just happen to like drow/dark elf cheesecake.
>>
>>27092865
I would like more of an infodump concerning weapons (both indigenous and alien), whether the Sidarxi still have ships parked in orbit, and the current political and social situation among the nations of conquered Earth.

I understand the desire to have players uncover more about the world and all, but if you don't give us more information, players will make decisions based on their own assumptions instead of knowledge that the character already has.

The ignorance of technology shown in the posts here >>27089610
>>27089678
>>27089764
are inexcusable though, since it said in the first post that this is Houston, TX in June of 1950.
>>
>>27096081
Off the cuff or a formal infodump in another thread.
>>
>>27096252
formal infodump would be nice, but I'm not>>27096081
>>
>>27096252
This is me posting.

>Timeline I've Posted in QTGs

-1937: Sidarxi Empire invades, dropping forces in Siberia, Argentina, and Arabia.

-1939: China falls. Japanese forces invent first generation power armor as they prepare for invasion.

-1940: Japan falls, half of population dead. Soviet forces fall back, buying time with space. Soviet Union, Germany, France, and United States develop power armor. Hitler and FDR assassinated by Sidarxi commandos. Doenitz takes over. American government in exile formed in California, led by Truman.

-1941: France sends forces to reinforce British and Italian garrisons in North Africa. Germany sends forces under Paulus to reinforce the Soviet “Stalin Line” along the Volga. Develop so-called “Rommel Tactics” which rely on hugging the enemy frontlines to neutralize heavy support weapons.

-1942: North Africa falls, Britain falls. Balkans and United States invaded.

-1943: As the fall of Europe seems inevitable and as holding the Stalin Line becomes impossible, Paulus comes up with Operation Samson. It is an operation of spite, to bleed them in a fighting retreat as long as the army is capable.

-1944: Western Europe falls. Sidarxi forces push into France. Caught between the two armies, Paulus fights until November, when he is captured. By December, the last regiments of the army are encircled at Hamburg. Isolated forces escape into the countryside. A primitive nuclear device is detonated, annihilating the last of the army as well nearby enemy forces. Paulus executed. End of formal military resistance.

-1945: Countries broken up and renamed as numbered regions. Sidarxi colonization begins.

-1947: Global Concordat, a puppet government established with the Internal Security Force as its right hand. English and Sidarxi officially become mandatory languages.
>>
>>27096302
The Sidarxi Intel Officer, who we never got the name of, mentioned that we were a renegade and could be summarily executed.

Is this order for any soldier who served under Paulus, who took part in Operation Samson, or any soldier who served against the Sidarxi?
And is this execution order a blanket kill-on-sight order, or is it this world's equivalent to our world's standing laws against Nazi soldiers who served in the SS or at the camps? As in, as soon as we're identified, we are expected to be executed on the spot, or arrested, tried, sentenced, THEN executed?
>>
>>27096302
>imperial japan
>power armor
>>
>>27096472
From what we've seen, the armor is all based upon mechanical systems with an ICE powerplant.
It seems meant to provide lots of armor and let an infantryman carry heavy vehicle-mounted weapons, not move quickly or stealthily.
>>
>>27096529
I meant more that japan at the time had almost no industrial capacity, so it seems odd for them to be the developers of it.
>>
>>27096586
Japan had problems with industrial infrastructure and manufacturing, but their designers and engineers had their own innovators.
Things like the bulbous bow, double-hull submarine design, and the Nakajima Ha-45 engine were pretty innovative.
>>
>>27096399

>Captain Yezrina

It's refers to the soldiers who served in Operation Samson. It was mostly a "legal" way for them to get away with executing POWs. They were a little sore over the nuke thing.
The order is blanket kill order. However, it was never a truly serious measure and more of a lurking terror measure. In the immediate months afterwards, summary executions were carried out. By this point, it mostly just stands on paper, but the threat is certainly there.

>>27096472
Yes, I went there.

Essentially, the Japanese were the first to find a doctrinal need for them and integrate it into their forces. It was very much a wunderwaffe project which actually worked. They were then promptly invaded after a short production run, but the tech had spread through the world, allowing for the much improved 2nd Generation models.

However, it's also because I thought it was a fun nod to assorted Japanese fiction.
>>
>>27096700
I bow down to your superior knowledge.
>>
>>27096586
Since this is a mechanical power armor, it actually makes sense. Japan has a long tradition of very complex mechanical automatons and mechanisms.
>>
>>27096529
There are several components to the motive system.

There is an ICE engine, but that mostly serves a means to charge the batteries which run several small electrical engines. These are connected to spools of steel cable, or motorcycle chain as the case may be, which serve as artificial muscles, slackened, locked, or retracted as movement requires.

The feedback loop is similar to the idea of the armor in Starship Troopers. Inside the various joints are pressure plates. When the wearer's limb presses against the plate, that tells the motor to pull the linkage. No pressure will cause it to maintain tension. A pressure plate in the opposite direction tells the motor to slacken the linkage.

This system is, of course, impractical to implement everywhere. Certain joints are merely supported by the exoskeleton of the armor to minimize the perceived load on the user and avoid the complexity of linkages.
>>
>>27096302
>>Japanese forces invent first generation power armor as they prepare for invasion.
>>1939

Do you have any idea how stupid this sounds? I mean if you want to go star trek levels of implausibility that's fine. But you know, even today we're still *just* developing PA, and this is with 74 more years of advancement in things like robotics. Just you know, Drowtales art aside you've already gone to the level of breaking the suspension of disbelief.

Why the Drowtales invaded the way they did I have no idea. Since they could have just bombed the shit out of any land forces and intercepted anything flying. Then just mop up remnants who wouldn't surrender.

A resistance movement would also need some sort of plan to keep the enemy from just wiping out our species, too. Since you know, they could probably do that.
>>
>>27101746
As opposed to sitting here and getting awfully defensive over some criticism that isn't even your work? It hasn't 404'd, and OP will probably be up the next day. You don't dictate when it's 'too late' to make a post.
>>
>>27101661
I am totally aware over how silly this is. The motivations for invasion and subjugation are complicated, not entirely rational, and a spoiler. I am aware of the implications of orbital superiority.

This isn't supposed to be a setting that makes perfect sense. It's supposed to be cool with enough of a veneer of believability.
>>
>>27104040
There are a few things I want to take care of before I run it, but hopefully I can continue in this thread.
>>
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It was 1942, and the snow fell thickly on Stalin's city. You crouched down in the bombed-out ruins of an apartment building. Across the eastern bank of the frozen Volga was the alien front. The pseudo-organic purple spires rose from the ruins of the Soviet city. These spires projected barriers of “hard light,” letting them sit comfortably in heated barracks while your men froze.

You couldn't let them get too comfortable, so you stripped down to your boilersuit, which did nothing against the bitter knives of the wind. Before you was your armor, your life and your death. Before the armor, the average lifetime of an infantryman in an attack was 24 hours. The cerulean lances callously tore men apart, turning men into a pink mist as it flash-boiled the blood in their veins.

You stepped into vulcanized rubber and leather, and tightened the adjustment points on your hips, shoulders, knees, and elbows, You felt the cold metal through the threadbare cloth of your uniform, but armor is life. You began to mount the breastplate, a curved slab of steel and fused silica, hastily patched in places with concrete. Your left pauldron has already been blasted into uselessness. A single hit there would take off your arm, and you keenly felt the weakness.

There were ten of you, six Germans, three new Russians, and a Jap who hasn't said much. Your squad leader, Staff Sergeant Kurt Lang was loading a drum of 20mm rounds into his AIK-41 cannon. You loaded your belt of pointed bullets into your new MG-42, which had replaced your faithful MG-34. It was time for another raid as dawn rose over the centerpiece of the “Stalin Line.”

What did you do?

[ ]Talk with the silent Jap
[ ]Talk with the new Russians
[ ]Talk with Kurt
>>
>>27105383
jap
>>
>>27105383
Oh no. Not a flashback. I fucking hate flashbacks. Especially so early in the story, come on.
Please, make is short.

>[ ]Talk with Kurt
>>
>>27105439
what's wrong with flashbacks?
>>
>>27105457
Not him, but they take you out of the action and put the plot on hold. They are nice diversions but can bog down a story.
>>
>>27105383
>[ ]Talk with the new Russians
maybe they know some good intel about where we may be fighting
>>
>>27105383
>[x]Talk with Kurt
>>
>>27105457
They do not advance the current plot. Sure they are nice to get exposition but I prefer when it is done during the on-going plot.

I also hate character shifts (when we control a different character for a short while), flash-forwards and long inter-active dream sequences.

>>27105500
Basically what this guy said and this quest is way too young for a flashback. You need a substantial amount of plot before you consider a flashback.
>>
>>27084917
Hey OP whats the pic at the top of the thread from?
>>
>>27105977
Jinroh, pretty good anime movie
>>
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While the Russians might have needed some advice, it was weird to think of them almost as allies. You remembered growing up to Nazi propaganda defaming the German and international communists. The Japanese man seemed interesting, but your English was not the best and you weren't even sure he speaks anything other than Japanese.

“Sergeant, what's going on today?”

Kurt chambered the massive 20mm round into the man-portable cannon.

“We're going to jump over the river, see if we can destroy one of their shield towers and get the fuck out of there.”

You nodded and prepared your jump pack, a disposable rocket strapped to your back. For anyone else, it would have been suicidal; but the armor protected you as you slammed into the ground.

“Ready to jump!” called Kurt down the line.

The leader of the Russians echoed the order in their tongue. The Japanese man just nodded.

“Three, two, one, fire!”
>>
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You pushed off the ground, smashing through the masonry of the ceiling and pulled the trigger on the pack. A godlike force slammed you against your armor as you arched through the sky on a pillar of fire and smoke. As you reached the apex of your flight, you cut the jettisoned the first pair of spent rockets. Bright lances cut through the sky, but you were invincible a human god of war.

You looked beside you, and the Russian to your right gave you a thumbs up before he started to blaze away at the ground positions. The next time you looked to your right, a beam pierced his breastplate. His arm was blown from his body and half of his torso was vaporized, The Russian continued his descent screaming and trailing his guts. You felt the killing machine inside you ticking down like a clock or a time bomb, like an engine of destruction to protect you.

You wake up in a cold sweat, heart pounding. You stumble out of bed and reach for the medicine cabinet. In your rush, you knock a glass off the counter and it cuts your feet. You rummage through the pills until you find the only thing that can make it stop.
You pop one pervitin pill and then another, feeling the amphetamines start to take over. It's not good, but just once in a while can't hurt, right? Especially if it can make it stop.

There's someone at the door, ringing the doorbell. That's much more polite than last night.

[ ] Answer
[ ] Clean yourself up
[ ] Tell whoever it is to go away.
[ ] Other
>>
>>27106145
>[X] Clean yourself up
then
>[X] Answer
>>
>>27106145
>[ ] Answer
>[ ] Clean yourself up

quickly make up presentable and answer
>>
You calm your breathing, and holler, “I'll be there in a minute.”

You reorganize the drawer and sweep up the broken class. Then you clean up the blood and bandage your foot. It still hurts like the dickens, but asking the who is culpable for that is a rhetorical question.

Then you go back to your bedroom and throw on a grey tweed suit and trousers, sans tie in your haste. You haven't shaved, but you suppose that hygiene can wait a bit. You peak through the peephole and see a conservatively dressed woman, albeit with skirt with a shorter length more appropriate to Sidarxi tastes.

“Good morning, Mr. Heller. How do you do?”

You stumble for words, knowing that she is judging the signs of your addiction.

“Fine, thank you.”

“The Captain would like to invite you for dinner and cocktails later tonight. This will be held at her residence.”

She appraises you with a critical eye.

“There's a lot of work to do before you are presentable. Please follow me to the Mercedes. You eye the vintage car whose design was virtually unchanged from its first production in the '30s. You remember seeing the old ads; it was your dream car.

[ ] “Who are you?”
[ ] “What's the occasion?”
[ ] “I have some business to take care of first (Kurt, Hojo, etc)”
[ ]Other
>>
>>27106955
>who are you?
>what's the occasion?
>>
>>27106955
What's the occasion?
>>
>>27106955
>[ ] “Who are you?”
>[ ] “What's the occasion?”
>>
>>27106955
>[ ] “What's the occasion?”
>>
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“Who might you be?” you ask.

“I'm Melinda Crout, my family and I work with the ISF.”

You almost flinch, but that would be impolite. The name leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It brings to mind images of treason and cruelty. To her, you're probably some ragged yokel, part of the unwashed, uneducated masses outside of the compound.

“I'm not here to arrest you,” she says, picking up on your negativity.

You smiles and ask, “What's the occasion?”

“My boss, the captain, is having a meeting with her comrades and requested your presence, as it is likely that you will be working with some of them and vice versa. Quite a few important people will be there, so you need to be more presentable.”

You nod and acquiesce. The next thing you know, you are driving through the streets of Houston. With the congestion, it's difficult to move at more than a walking pace. It reminds you of the stories your father told you of the bazaars of exotic Turkey.

“It's really interesting to meet you,” says Melissa, twirling a strand of curly brown hair around her index finger, “What was it like to fight in the war?”

She asks you this with a sort of innocence that puts you at ease, but you don't want those painful memories to come back. You don't want to talk about seeing last shreds of human resistance burn in nuclear fire. At the same time, you think back to all those moments of fun you shared with men closer than brothers, good men who counted on you as you counted on them.

[ ] Avoid the subject
[ ] Talk about the horrors of the war
[ ] Talk about the camaraderie
[ ] Other
>>
>>27107491
>[ ] Talk about the horrors of the war
>[ ] Talk about the camaraderie

both
>>
>>27107491

>[ ] Avoid the subject
>>
>>27107491
>[ ] Talk about the horrors of the war
>>
>>27107491
Horrors of war
Make her feel guilty about helping those shitstain xenos
>>
>>27107491
>[ ] Talk about the horrors of the war
>[ ] Talk about the camaraderie
>>
Calling for and writing

>Horrors of war with some cameraderie
>>
>>27107491
tense up, get a haunted look in your eyes, and tell her every fucked up, gruesome detail.
>>
You sink back into the leather seats and reflect on those days. At the same time, you see the suffering all around you. You think of the suffering at the front.

“I suppose that you didn't see the battlefront, since you're so young. You probably moved around a bit on the homefront. There are all sorts of fun stories and shenanigans that happened. I don't think that any soldier lacks those.”

She smiles cutely, as she listens attentively. You can feel a dark anger bubbling inside you, as you think about how her family would help these invaders, these monsters who cut down so many of your buddies and killed millions.

“Do you know why they developed the armor?”

“To protect soldiers?”

“That's correct, I don't think you understand just how grim it vas. On an offensive, ze life expectancy of a frontline infantrymen vas measured in hours. Take a hit from one of those searing blasters, you'd probably die. Getting shot in ze leg vould blow it off and you'd bleed out in minutes. Arms vere ze same. Getting hit in ze gut vould separate your legs from your body, like a person getting shot vith a cannon shell. Ze only place vhere you could reasonably expect to survive vas a hit in ze hand or foot. Heaven knows I saw it happen too many times,” you state, letting your accent slip in as you get angrier.

She seems shocked, as expected of some traitor.
>>
“Imagine zis scenario,” you continue, “You are huddling in ze frozen cold. You have been on starvation rations for ze last few weeks, as orbital bombardments smash ze arteries of the rail lines and rail yard. You are ordered to assault the enemy, but you lack ze ammunition. You smash through, men screaming from burns as molten glass pours down from their armor. Some die. Your gun stops firing, zhere ist nozing left to fire, so you beat und smash and kill vith broken stocks, bayonets, und ze armor itself. Vhy do you go on? Because you know zat this vill be visited on everyone behind you, your family, friends, und everything you know and love.”

“I'm sorry,” she says, “I didn't mean to do that to you."

You sigh and deflate in the back of the car, silent. The route eventually takes you into the ISF compound. You are waved through by a guard. After parking, you are ushered from the sedan and escorted through the area. It's clean, quiet, and peaceful behind these walls. Children play on green, trimmed lawns in the summer heat. You pass a gleaming public pool where you can see happy people, families of the ISF goons enjoying the June afternoon.

You follow Melinda to a monorail, which merely hums as it take you to the Sidarxi settlement. The train leads you to one of the large spires. On the silent ride, Melind hands you an identification pin. At the terminal, Melinda waves farewell to you and likewise. You turn and face a male Sidarxi, who doesn't seem entirely enthused to meet you. He mutters something snide to the guard, and all you can pick up is the word “monkey.”

“Hello, Mr. Heller. It's nice to meet you. Before we proceed with your interview, I have been instructed to help integrate you into the realm of Sidarxi society,” he says with a fake smile, “My name is Sergeant Shatralo. Are there any questions before we proceed.”

[ ] “Interview?”
[ ] Give him a cold shoulder
[ ] Other
>>
>>27108427
>cold shoulder
we're doing this shit, doesn't mean we have to like it.
>>
>>27108427
Cold shoulder
Fuck these guys, we hate em but they hold our sisters lives over our head
>>
>>27108427
>Give him a cold shoulder

agreed with >>27108493, we won't bother with this goon's shit.
>>
>>27108427
Ask him every thing we don't know about (particularly politics).

We play things smart.

Anyone else want to do to these elves like the Germanic tribes did to Rome?
>>
I'm enjoying this flavor of HFY
>>
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>>27108562
>humans become space Visigoths
>>
>>27108620
Ok to do that we have to do two things:
1 Take over the military
2 Keep out native power structures

The general way to do this is replace the Elves own military with human axillarys. If we also can slip humans into the officer corps that would be great.
>>
>>27108737
It would also be good to know a lot more about the elves space empire as a whole since we can't plan to corrupt it with out understanding it.
>>
>>27108427
[X] Give him a cold shoulder
This guy is clearly planning on being an asshole to us, no point not being an asshole back.
>>
>>27108427
"I'm not here to do interviews. I've been blackmailed here to kill. Preferably more of you [insert derogatory insult for Space Elf here]. Let's get this over with."
>>
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“It's very nice to meet you, too, Sergeant,” you say with a fake enthusiasm, “I can't wait to be culturally enriched.”

“Oh, that's lovely, my human friend,” he says, “Do you, by any chance, have a taste for Sidarxi literature?”

Again with the literature.

“I haven't actually read any, myself,” you say, “But

“Oh, for shame, Mr. Heller. You're really missing out.”

He starts to lead you down the dimly lit hallways of the building. You very quickly developed a distaste for Sidarxi architecture. Shatralo seems to be smiling every time you bang your knees against something.

“Do you need any help? I understand that it is somewhat inconvenient for you. As a gesture of fraternity, I'll even guide you if you take my hand.”

“I think I can manage on my own,” you say, “I won't always have such a kind, friendly guide available to help me.”

He comes up to you and whispers into your ear.

“I'm only doing this as a favor to my cousin, monkey. She hasn't told me exactly what sort of pawn you are, so I'd like you to tell me. I'll even give you an incentive: I'll answer a question about her. Maybe we can work out some of our differences in private; there's a place I know where you can fight me. Not that you stand a chance, but it's the thought that counts.”

[ ] Take the deal. (What do you want to know?)
[ ] Tell him off.
[ ] Be friendly, you both want to fight each other.
>>
>>27109070
take the deal. be sure to call him a knife eared bastard.
>>
>>27109070
Oh god. No. We DO NOT want to fight that man. He will destroy us.
>>
>>27109070
Take the deal.


What exactly do we know about Sidarxi culture? Is it matriarchal or are they just equal in terms of gender?
>>
>>27109070
>[ ] Tell him off.
Defiant to the end.
>>
>>27109070
Too little information, no deal. Mystery around us will help stave off fuckers. And any information he gives will be useless since we know no context.
>>
>>27109070
Why would we ever cooperate with a faggot knife ear who wants to hold our hand?
>>
>>27109139
mention that according to human rules, the challenged party chooses the weapons. I'm thinking a wrestling match will be good.
>>27109260
because if we do, we get to beat the shit out of him later?
>>
>>27109272
>implying we cant do that later anyways
>trusting a knife-ear to keep his word
Tell the fucker off.
>>
>>27109070
>Tell him off.
>>
While I take a break to eat, I'll let you duke this out.
>>
Let us use their honor against them. If they can't beat a lowly human like on fair grounds, then they are worthless. And take the tell deal. Say that we are simply a wardog with a new leash
>>
Telling him off wins.

Writing now.
>>
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“No thanks,” you say, “I'm not interested, knife-ears.”

So, your new friend and relative of the Captain, decides to punch you in the liver. You almost drop then and there, ready to curl into a ball. You feel nauseous as a toxic pain surges throughout your body.

“Fuck you, buddy,” you manage to spit out.

“You too, monkey,” he says, “I'll leave you this time; but, to use my cousin's favorite saying, everybody talks.”

“When,” you wheeze, “Can I take you up on that offer to fight you?”

“Does tonight, after the party, work for you? I don't like you very much,” says Shatralo.

“Don't worry, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

“Excellent.”

He guides you into an underground shopping center. When you look at him, you see his eyes alight, reading displays built into his very eyes. As far as you are concerned, that's magic even if it isn't.

He grudging decides to treat you to a late breakfast. It's some sort of space elf tea with an oddly-textured cake, almost like a powder-filled pound cake.

“So, as your designated cultural enricher, is there anything you want to know before you go into this? Anything about tonight's festivities, either?” he asks in a low whisper.

>Cultural Enrichment
[ ] No
[ ] Write-in

>Dinner Meeting
[ ] No
[ ] Who is going to be there?
[ ] Am I improperly dressed?
[ ] Other
>>
>>27110663
Cultural: Think they'd be upset if i told war stories?
Meeting: And will i piss you people off by showing up like this?
>>
>>27110663

>[ ] Any highly offensive things I should avoid blundering into?
>[ ] Who is going to be there?
>[ ] Am I improperly dressed?
>>
>>27110663
>nuclear are fantastic, aren't they
>>
>>27110846
>>27110836
Seconded
>>
>>27110846
Seconding this.
>>
>>27110846
>>[ ] Any highly offensive things I should actively "accidentally" blunder into?
FTFY
>>
Writing now

>>27111103
This guy.
>>
“So,” you whisper, since it seems to be the polite thing to do, “Might it be offensive if I were to tell war stories?”

Shatralo whispers between chuckles, “Oh, oh my, you're actually serious. Bad idea.”

You make a disappointed noise and have a bit more of the food; you're starving and it's on his bill.

“Who else if going to be there?”

He drinks some of his own tea before replying, “My cousin, Yezrina, her sister and brother, for one. The clan's leader, their mother, is going to be there with her husband. My parents and twin sisters as well. Beyond that, I don't know.”

You appraise your somewhat shabby appearance.

“Am I dressed for the occasion?”

“To be honest, you're a human so it doesn't really matter. Your entire getup is really quite quaint, even if it doesn't match the sleek styles we prefer. You should probably shave, though.”

“Anything else to avoid blundering into?”

“Be a polite little curiosity,” he says, “Don't talk unless asked, smile and toast at the appropriate moments. How well do you speak our language?”

“Passably, with a heavy accent.”

“That works. Translating would be a pain.”
>>
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In the end, you decided to enjoy your stubble. Mostly, you thought it would be amusing to rub it in that he lacked facial hair. The overall impression of him you got was one of cultivated nuisance and snobbery. You certainly reciprocated his “tender” feelings.

He emerged in a slick purple suit, almost like a tuxedo jacket except fastened by a clasp in the back. The material was some sort of silk but unlike any you had seen before. You felt like some sort of rebel, the causeless kind – not the kind that shot at the police, thought that might soon change – in your outfit.

Arriving, you felt overdressed. Everyone wore clothes lighter than yours, especially the women. It took a lot of control to avoid appearing outwardly flustered by their attire, but you had to admit that they wore it well.

“Herr Heller,” came a familiar voice in German, “It's lovely to see you here, though your fashion sense is quite behind the times.”

Yezrani was dressed in a tight backless dress which left little to the imagination. You were almost scared as to what constituted rebellious or aggressive fashions among the Sidarxi. With her was an older looking woman, slightly worn down by age. Her clothing was just as conservative as the Captain's.

“This is my mother, the head of House Hashaal."
>>
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That's it for tonight. I'm going to run it again on Sunday, 15 September at 1-2PM Eastern.

I'll hang around for questions, comments, and concerns like last night.
>>
>>27112071

So a space elf and a human get in a fist fight. They both have equal training. Who wins?
>>
>>27112071
I've only just joined your quest today but it seems really cool, I love the aesthetic of the era you chose and I can't wait to show these dirty Siggers what a monkey like us can really do.
>>
>>27112284
Whoever fights dirtiest.
>>
>>27112071
Also to reiterate a question another anon asked earlier, what DO we look like? Aryan master-race? More auburn and Germanic?
>>
>>27112071
>that picture
>that filename
You're the guy who ruined that Tron Quest, aren't you?
>>
>>27112284

Depends. The problem is unequal training, the average Sidarxi soldier is much better trained and experienced than his human. All else being equal, it should come down to whoever fights dirtier.

>>27112299
Thank you.

>>27112362
Fairly athletic for someone in his mid-twenties, but on the shorter side (they wanted littler guys in power armor). Hair is a darker auburn. Eyes are blue.

>>27112400
I was never even in that thread. I was, however, in the /k/ thread that produced this silliness.
>>
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>>27112362

Here is a picture close to what I'm thinking
>>
>>27112678
Yeah I pictured about the same, except paler and more gaunt, along with that 1000 yard stare
>>
>>27112514
got a link to an archive of the thread?
>>
>>27112930

The /k/ thread? I'm afraid I don't.
>>
>>27112960
damn. well can you give us a summary of the thread?
>>
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>>27112987

It's been a while but IIRC it was, like the thread after the Boston Bombing where they shopped the potato policemen into a bunch of things. This time, they were shopping zergface.

Pic related
>>
Setting sounds cool enough, I'll be following this.
>>
>>27114301
Thanks. Any issues or other things you would like clarified.
>>
>>27114454
my only complaint is that you're a really slow typist.
>>
OP, if you're still here, can I suggest you get a twitter, helps to announce session times and link the threads when you start them, aids in finding them at the start quicker


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