“Buddy, I’m not even asking you to propose to her or anything, just hang out with her. She’s not that easy on the eyes and she’s half ripped to pieces, but she’s good where it counts. Work with me here.” The prisoner before you tried to negotiate. You had told him you were engaged; he didn’t care that much.

“Listen, ‘buddy’,” you say back, “I’ve met your sister, and I’m not sure why you seem to think she would ever agree to date me anyways, even if I went and asked her. I could offer if that’s enough, but if you mean I have to actually get her to agree I think I’d just be wasting my time.”

The prisoner’s face fell, but just a bit. “Ah. I’m guessing you didn’t try to sweep her off her feet, did you.”

“Didn’t I say I was already getting married?” you wonder out loud.

“Well, if she’s being hard headed as usual…” the man you had initially hoped to free and draft to your cause tapped a food on the cold, dusty stone floor, “She’ll do it if I tell her to.”

You weren’t interested in dating the man’s sister, anyways. His sister was a huntress by the name of Hilda; and according to the man (he hadn’t yet bothered to tell you his name), she was the famous New Moon Sniper, who had been on a shooting spree, wounding many patrolling Valsten soldiers over the past nights.

Perhaps, you thought, you could make a deal for something else. “How about this, instead,” you creep a bit closer to him, “If you want, I can tell you more information on that funny eye of yours. What it is, how to better use it, what not to do…”

That caught his attention. “Really, now…”

“Really.”

“That’s worth exactly one ‘I’ll think about it’,” he said, “You know what you can do to guarantee my service, don’t you?”

>No, an “I’ll think about it” is good enough for now. Your name, if you will.
>You’re really persistent, aren’t you? Can’t I set her up with somebody who isn’t set up to be married?
>Now just a minute, you’re not the one making deals here. I tell you all that in exchange for you helping me in this coming war, not as a bonus.
>Other

https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
^This is the pastebin for past threads. I've thought about maybe throwing some infodump summaries in, but I'm not sure about it.

I've been preparing something for the past couple of weeks. It's...still not quite ready. We won't need it for a little bit, though, so it should work out.

My twitter handle is @scheissfunker for anybody who isn't aware.

>>1389958
>No, an “I’ll think about it” is good enough for now. Your name, if you will.

>>1389958
>“You know what you can do to guarantee my service, don’t you?”
Little shit's going to ask us to date his sister, isn't he?

>>1389958
>Other
>>Now just a minute, you’re not the one making deals here. Nice try though.
>>Other
>Tell the prisoner the original reason we came here was to get him out of prison on Hilda's behest. If he wants us to hang out with his sister or whatever we can do it once he has his family reunion.
Also he'd REALLY want to know about his funny eye because recent news might have his life depend on it.
>>Other
>I tell you all that in exchange for you helping me in this coming war, not as a bonus. This information is worth far more than a bonus.

>>1390060
>Your name, if you will.
2nd, for the family reunion.

Social prompts aren't really my thing, so I'll give the outline for what my ideas are instead.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

I would rather not roll to decide things, but I think I've been stalling for too long, so I should just get on with things.

Although to be fair this is more a decision of tone than anything else. Elements in >1390171 remain pertinent.

“No,” acquiesce, “an ‘I’ll think about it’ is good enough for now.”

“Good.” The prisoner smiled slightly.

“Your name, if you will.” You press on.

“Oh, of course,” the prisoner chuckled a bit before closing his darker eye, “I am Bertram Glennzsegler, son of the ferryman. My heritage turned out to be oddly suitable for the role I took, no?”

“Poetic.” You bite down on the word, “You ought to know, before you continue trying to force yourself into my family tree, that Hilda asked me to come and free you, in exchange for her aid.”

Bertram’s face turned to stone. “She did what?” Before you could repeat yourself, he rattled on his chain. “Hurry up! I don’t want to spend another minute in this hole.”

You went and got the warden, spurred on by Bertram’s change of face.

“He’s the one I want,” you tell him, “Get him out here.”

It only took a few minutes after that. Bertram soon appeared, slouched and looming out of the dim halls, with the short little warden waddling short breathedly after him.

“Hold it!” He protested as Bertram went straight for the door, “Ye got papers!”

“Piss on them.” Bertram snapped as he crashed out the door. You followed him out; it wouldn’t be long before there were more serious issues than clerical errors in local prisons anyways.

---

“You could have waited a few minutes for the forms,” you try to catch up with Bertram as he shoves his way through the streets, the odd pedestrian out of some recognizing him from afar and getting out of the way before he arrived.

“Damn fool,” Bertram muttered shakily, “Damn fool, trying to trade life for life. Whatever deal you had, it’s over.”

“Now wait one moment-“ you had gotten quite sick of this man speaking for his sister, especially now that he seemed set to sabotage your plans, but you felt an odd tug on your shoulder. A strangely familiar feeling, like you were being pulled lightly with a thread.

Soon after, a slight chill overcame you. An awful feeling in your gut washed over your being, like icewater flowing up from every pore, before fading away. The moment of hesitation gave Bertram a chance to increase the gap between you, and he was rapidly moving out of your sight.

>Let the sniper go; you know where he’s heading, and there’s something here that you need to deal with.
>Flee back to your forces. You have a bad feeling about this.
>Continue to pursue Bertram
>Other

>>1393507
>Flee back to your forces. You have a bad feeling about this.

>>1393507
>Flee back to your forces. You have a bad feeling about this.

>>1393507
Let the sniper go, there's something here you need to deal with

You didn’t like bad feelings, as of recently; they usually precluded awful events involving terrible creatures, instead of being mere indigestion.
Bertram and his sister could patiently wait while you retreated to a position of strength, you decided. With the very real possibility of a hostile soulbinder out for your hide, nothing felt less safe than being outside of the invulnerable steel shell of a tank, immune to sorceries as it was to bullets.

You let Bertram vanish as you turned to leave. The mysterious tugging sensation urged you southwards, and every time you felt you were going on the right paths, your feet would wander on their own; you wouldn’t often notice until you had turned a corner and found yourself on a road you had already tread.

The far off sight of the manor on the hill, burnt to blackened rubble, remained just as distant as when you had first tried to reach it again.

Suddenly, you found yourself walking into an empty street. Many of the buildings were burnt and neglected here; it was clear why few came here. A few squatters dozed in alleys, and some strange charms hung over doors and windows, but otherwise the area was still as the air in a tomb.

You felt something move behind you. You began to turn, but some strange force lacked the patience to wait for you to move on your own, and spun you around with dizzying quickness.

File: tcqscene47.png (208 KB, 600x700)

208 KB PNG

Of course he had to be behind you, you thought for a second, before you puzzled over the man standing before you.

Anybody who hadn’t seen things you had seen would have assumed this man was like the other mystics and kooky mongers of supernatural wards that peddled their wares in parts of the city, claiming protection against the vengeful ghosts of the past, but this man had markings on him that appeared to be of the “ancient people of the mountains;” something you had come to expect when dealing with soulbinders.

He wore long, drooping robes that concealed his arms and went down to his knees, and his face was painted with what you could only guess was markings of some tribe or ritual. Unlike the masked Poltergeist or the old and senile Hermit, this new soulbinder was rather young, perhaps around your age.

He looked you over with visible contempt.

“Your presence has the stench of my mark.” He said, with a haughty, pompous voice that carried a ringing tine of superiority, as if he was speaking to an animal. “Tell me, swine of the north, why you send assailants with power beyond your ken, to wound and slay my countrymen.”

The sigh you let out may have been too exasperated for his taste, since when it escaped your lips you felt yourself straighten up to an attentive stance without willing it.

“Do not test me. I know you have been around your so-called “New Moon Sniper,” I’ve marked them. I know you are close to them, as well, with the Earth Tear flesh on your collar.”

You look down at your tunic. It had a few smeared droplets of the black bloodlike matter that had been bursting from Maddalyn’s eyes the other night. You must have mistaken them for ordinary specks of oil.

“I doubt you know what I speak of,” the soulbinder went on, “so I will put it in easier terms. I am the Riverman, and you will lead me to your men. One of them will have eyes as black as night, or they’ll be trying to hide them. If you hand over this criminal to me, I will forgive your collective sins.”

>You’re small time. Don’t make me get somebody meaner than either of us to come step on you.
>I hate to bruise your ego, but I’m really not afraid of you. Nor do I know who your sniper is. You tagged the wrong person.
>Fine, fine, whatever. You’re going to be disappointed, though.
[s]Get lost. You wouldn’t recognize a goddamn Sniper if one jumped up and shot you on the end of your fucking dick. So just get off my back.[/s]
>Other

>>1395061
>Get lost. You wouldn’t recognize a goddamn Sniper if one jumped up and shot you on the end of your fucking dick. So just get off my back.

>>1395061
I hate to bruise your ego...


Arnt we somehow connected to the demiphantom? Can he feel that presence?

>>1395830
>Aren't we somehow connected to the demiphantom? Can he feel that presence?

You aren't sure. If he can, you don't think he's referred to it, since whatever Earth Tears are isn't the funky ancient name for demiphantoms.

You could ask him, but it'd probably be a good idea to keep that secret to yourself considering the hostility the Riverman is showing.

>>1396177
In that case, and for expediency
Seconding
>>1395189


Since I don't really want to call poltergiest for this guy

>>1396564

Poltergeist would probably just turn out to be his boyfriend or something anyway.

“Get lost,” you say with no concern for the Riverman’s power over you, “You wouldn’t recognize a goddamn Sniper if one jumped up and shot you on the end of your fucking dick. So just get off my back.”

If you had been able to get in a car and drive away right after saying that, it would have been perfect. Tragically, you could only stand in front of this new Soulbinder and hope he’d let you walk off before you had to get to the meeting for the secret mission you volunteered for.

The Riverman frowned at you, seeming more confused than offended. “You could not be anything but ignorant of my arts, and yet…” He paces around you; you turn to keep facing him. You weren’t sure if he had let you move; the way he frustratedly tried to outpace your turning seemed to indicate he had lost concentration, and control, over however he had been manipulating your movements.

“I hate to bruise your ego, but I’m really not afraid of you.” You go on, “I can’t help you with your sniper problem either. You tagged the wrong person.”

The Riverman stops and narrows his eyes at you. “Impossible. Only one with Earth Tears could spy so intently upon me. Only one with such creatures in their eyes could see in the darkness, and slaughter so efficiently.”

You don’t feel any need to debate the matter with him. Further disrespect seemed more appealing. “Could you cut the shit with the pseudonym, also?” you demand, “I’ve had enough of your wizards and your fake name nonsense. You can at least introduce yourself like a person of manners instead of some skulking urchin.”

The Riverman’s eyebrow twitched. The feeling of having, somewhere under that façade of cold superiority, having struck a nerve, was sweeter than honey.

“I don’t have to tolerate your insolence,” he said, with some confusion left over being pushed away by anger, “You think you know what I am, but you don’t know what ones as me are capable of. I’ll fix that attitude with a demonstration.”

The Riverman whipped his robed hand to the side, before swinging it across his chest. You had a split second to realize that you might have made a mistake, when an explosion like a grenade going off burst in front of your face.

You brought up your arms reflexively to protect yourself, but the force of the assault seemed to melt away in front of you, leaving you unhurt before a now extremely puzzled Riverman.

“Whose mark…” he squinted at you, and you noticed his eyes flicker black, before returning to normal. “…Impossible…” He stared at you, mouth agape, as his eyes went black, and back again.

You weren’t the best fighter, but even you could sense when you had the upper hand.

>Run away
>Attack him in melee
>Shoot the Riverman
>Other

>note; attacking him might be satisfying, but probably won’t endear him to you or your friends

Damn he deserves to get punched so bad... Especially after he marked our fiance... Besides we should atleast have some knowledge of melee combat and shoothing him prolly whont kill him anyway

>>1396701
>I don't have to explain anything to you. I will say one thing though: the pond is much larger than you think, and you're not a big fish at all comparatively. Now would you be so kind as to leave peacefully?

Bluff him.

>>1396967
Seconded.

>>1396967
Supporting

>>1396701
>>1396967
4th. Richter's ain't afraid of no small fries!

You think for a moment about punching this “Riverman” right in his cocky mouth, but you decide against it. Besides, if what Maddalyn had told you about Soulbinders was the whole truth to the matter, any assaults you attempted wouldn’t do much besides make your mysterious foe justifiably vengeful. Wounding his pride would be enough.

Perhaps playing off of his ignorance of what was happening would work. Not that you had much better of an idea, but he didn’t know that.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” You say with the same mock superiority that was being thrown against you by him, “I will say one thing, though: the pond is much larger than you think, and you’re not a big fish at all comparatively.”

“You know nothing.” The Riverman spat at you, although you knew his words were empty.

“…Now would you be so kind as to leave peacefully?” you make a show of taking out your watch and checking it. “I have more important things to do than play with you.”

“I will not forget this,” the Riverman recoiled from your taunt, “I know what I’m looking for. There are other ways of wounding a man besides harming his body. In the end, you will be begging for my forgiveness.”

“Swim back over the Glennz, Riverman. Else you’ll find it hard to spout empty threats from under six feet of burnt dirt.” You weren’t about to surrender your position; it was the best you’d ever had when dealing with soulbinding clowns and demons.

The Riverman’s jaw was strained tight, and his lip quivered, but both you and he knew now that he had no ability to harm anything but your schedule. Without another word, he was whisked off by an invisible wind, as though pulled away by the hand of a glass giant.

If he had been Poltergeist, he would have simply vanished, you noted. It was good to see more of this new enemy’s limitations.

When you checked your watch, you noted that you had plenty of time. Bertram had disappeared, but you knew you would find him at his old house. Where else would he go?

You could also go by the bakery at 15th street and try to get into your meeting early. After all, the Riverman might have the mind to follow you.

Of course, now that you knew the Riverman couldn’t harm you for whatever reason, it might be possible to plan to remove him. Your resident expert in spiritual skullduggery might be able to do something with this information…

>Go to the secret mission meeting
>Retrieve your snipers; or at least just one, if that was your only choice
>Go back to camp and see if there is a way of keeping the Riverman further away
>Other

>>1397817
>Go back to camp and see if there is a way of keeping the Riverman further away
>Ask Maddy if it's possible to make the special shell into special rifle bullets.

>>1397817
>>Go back to camp and see if there is a way of keeping the Riverman further away
>Other
>Get some sort of detection system that isn't Maddy to sense the Riverman whenever he happens to be stalking us.
>Other
>Ask Maddy if it's possible to make the special shell into special rifle bullets.
>Go to the secret mission meeting

Since the Riverman had shown his hand, you didn’t want to go on without having some sort of method, at least a hint of a plan, for dealing with him. If he followed you, there was a dangerous possibility of him discovering the details of the secret mission to come, which, considering his allegiances seemed obvious, would be a disaster.

You went back to your camp near the burned out manor. Some work had been done since you first got there; some rubble had been cleared away from a door, but several large pieces of collapsed structure still blocked the way from the inside. Similar exploratory pokes had been made at other entrances, but a good way in still eluded you and your men. One of the m/28s had been drafted into clearance, but the blockages were such that, you saw, a tug with the hook and tow cable tended to break bits away from the burnt wood and stone rather than pulling it away.

You didn’t bother any of your officers, who supervised your sanctioned exploration with varying enthusiasm.

You went to your m/32 and knocked on the turret door before opening it. “Hey. Maddy.” You call to your RO and fiancée. It was quite understandable that she wasn’t outside, even without the Riverman looking for her. She was small, and physically frail, and thus of little use for the exhausting physical labor of digging.

“Richter?” Maddayn crawled out into the turret basked. She had tied a strip of cloth around her head to hide her eyes, and was lifting it up with one hand; her eyes still hadn’t returned to a more normal coloration.

“I talked to our new Soulbinder.” You cut to the chase. “He’s a chump. Couldn’t even touch me.”

“Richter!” Maddalyn complained, her voice cracking, “Can’t you listen to me when I tell you it’s dangerous to do something like that?”

“Relax. I made sure he couldn’t hurt me before provoking him.” You lie.

“You complete…what?” Maddalyn broke off her condemnation, “How do you know he couldn’t hurt you?”

“He tried to blow me up with something after I told him to get lost, and it didn’t do anything. Then he ran away.”

“Idiot!” Maddalyn stood on her toes to cuff you on the ear, “But…” she sank back down, “…Let me try something.” She got on her hands and knees, reaching back to her position in the tank. She had to lie down flat to finally reach it, it seemed, but she pulled back a satchel you recognized as her bag of tricks.

“You’re not going to turn me into a demon or something, right?” you take a seat in the loader’s position.

“No,” Maddalyn whined, “I’m going to…look, I have a little hex spell that knocks you back and makes you feel pins and needles. It’s really weak, but it should show if there’s something on you keeping this other soulbinder…”

“The Riverman.” You say.

“…Sure. Him, from attacking you with anything…” With that, she pulled a cloth tag from her bag and nipped her thumb.

>Wait, wait. That isn’t necessary. I just wanted to ask you a few things.
>Well, let’s get this over with, then.
>Hold on, if you’re going to hit me with a ghost punch or whatever, I need something in return.
>Other

>>1398154
>Well, let’s get this over with, then.
She called us an idiot. Our relationship is progressing!

>>1398154
>>Well, let’s get this over with, then.
>>1398161
Maddalyn finally noticed us!

>>1398154
>Well let's get this over then, but I'm gonna need something in return.

Either a kiss or for her to try and get out of the tank. I doubt she'll go for the kiss but being cooped up in there can't be to healthy, and she probably hasn't eaten. Maybe take her to that bakery with Malachi so she can eat something and he can bring her back if we're whisked away in that secret meeting.

>>1398527

Seconding

I'll have things out in another ten minutes or so.

Just cutting the vote here.

Ten, twenty, what's the difference


“Well,” you settle further into your seat, “let’s get this over with, then. Wait, though,” you interrupt her before she gets the ritual ready, “I’m going to need something in return for participating in this experiment.”

“Something in return?” Maddalyn blinked, taking the blindfold off all the way.

“You get out of this tank, eat something, breathe air that isn’t laden with oil and powder…”

“I can’t do that!” she whined, “I have a mark! That soulbinder could see me!”

“Or…” you smirk, “You kiss me.”

File: tcqscene48.png (295 KB, 600x700)

295 KB PNG

Maddalyn went from stark white to deep crimson within a second. “W-w-what?” she stuttered, “T-that’s not fair!”

“Fine,” you hold up a hand, “You only have to choose if something bad happens.”

“I-I mean,” Maddalyn had dropped the scribed upon scrap, and had to kneel to get it, “I-It’s not like…I mean, if…you know, but…”

“Hurry up and hit me,” you press her, “You might not have to decide, if things go well.”

“O-okay.”

Maddalyn pressed her blooded thumb into the note, which sparkled and dissolved.

“Um,” she said, her hand softly glowing white, “I-I’m sorry if this hurts, okay?” She drew back her hand, and punched a pair of fingers into your chest. There was a bright flash and a puff of dust, but you didn’t feel anything.

“…Did it work?” you asked, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Er.” Maddalyn stared at your chest, still prodding her fingers into your torso, “Somebody weaved your presence.”

“My ‘presence’ has certainly been getting weaved lately.” You say to yourself.

“No, I mean,” Maddalyn searched for words, “Okay, so, basically, you know how Soulbinders manifest their presence as threads?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, they do.” Maddalyn said, “That’s how they do things. They connect or tie or do whatever with these strings of their presence and transmit energy through them. They can convert their presence to energy, too, like kinetic, by-“

“Skip the technical manual, please.” You say as your vision blurs in response to your brain predicted a string of complete nonsense.

“Somebody wove your presence into armor,” Maddalyn summarized, “at least against attacks on your presence.”

“That’s convenient.” You threw one of your legs over the other, “Can you do that sort of thing?”

“No. That’s way too high up for me.” Maddalyn admitted. “I don’t know why, but the only person I can think of doing it would be Poltergeist.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t expect anything in return,” you say. Did he really predict you running into this sort of situation? You had only requested some help the other night, and unless Poltergeist was quick to break his word, he hadn’t followed you down here. “I’m not bulletproof, am I?”

“No.” Maddalyn shook her head, “This weave only protects against transmission of energy through presence.”

You had a feeling that would have been too good of a boon to expect.

“Anyways,” you continue, “Even if the Riverman can’t hurt me, I don’t want him following me around and thinking of ways to exercise his creativity. Can I keep him away somehow? Or at least know when he’s around? Besides putting you out there.”

“I’m sorry…” Maddalyn folded into herself a little, “I shouldn’t have been out last night. I knew this could have happened…”

“For goodness sakes, don’t worry about that,” you say back.

“I don’t know of any way…” Maddalyn fussed with her fingers, “Except…well…if we had some sort of presence creature…”

“Like this?” you ask, finding the chocolate tin with the Hungry Darkness in it. A colony of the little creatures had found its way into your tank back in Blumsburg, and you took the opportunity to capture it.

“You still had those things?” Maddalyn cocked an eyebrow at you, “Why…never mind. Those could work. Alright. Do you remember what a Pacer is?”

You responded in the affirmative.

“Well, they eat presence creatures, and spare bits of it floating around. Hungry Darkness are too small for them to prey on, not that these little things know that. So they try and hide whenever they’re around. You can’t see the Pacers, but the Hungry Darkness can. So…uh, here.”

Maddalyn found a pen in her satchel and drove it into her eye.

“Judge above!” you cry, “could you not do that without some sort of warning?”

“Ngh,” Maddalyn winced, picking up some of the black matter that emerged on her finger and smearing it on a piece of paper she had gotten, “S-sorry. This…stuff. Things like Hungry Darkness like to eat stuff like this. So if you open that can-in the shade, so you don’t kill them- and hold that paper above it, they’ll reach for it. If there are pacers around, they won’t try to get it, since they’ll want to hide.” She proffers the dirty paper to you.

“That’s disgusting.” You comment.

“I-I…yes…” Maddalyn drew back into herself and dropped the paper on the floor, “It…” Her hands shook as she started to pick the blindfold back off the floor.

“I didn’t mean,” you sigh heavily and pick the slip off the floor, “Not you. What does it mean if there’s ‘pacers’ around?”

Maddalyn stopping huddling into herself. “Oh it…it means the Riverman guy is around. Pacers are drawn to Soulbinders, I wouldn’t be surprised if every single one in the city was swarming around him, trying to eat the energy he’s shedding. If there’s Pacers around, he’s probably close too.”

“That’s very helpful, actually,” you pocket the slip, “Thank you.”

Maddalyn turned nearly as red as her hair, “O-of course.”

“One other thing,” you note, “Can we turn that hellfire shell into bullets, or something? The Riverman’s the sort of person I feel like shooting to death.”

“No.” Maddalyn crushed your hopes immediately, “The only person who could do that that I know of was that Hermit. That shell uses Cores, gold thingies with special inscriptions and etchings on them, infused with presence. Even most Soulbinders don’t know how to do it, and those who do keep it really secret. You need to know something deeper, something that takes a lot of time to even figure out. It’s called the Rites of Binding, and they’re extremely difficult to figure out even if you’re a strong soulbinder.”

“Well, it was worth asking about, I guess.” You let that plan drop. For now, just knowing if the Riverman was close would have to do.

>Go to the secret mission meeting
>Pursue Bertram to Hilda’s house, where you expected to find him
>Other

>>1398893
>Go to the secret mission meeting
Ask the others to set a watch on the house

>>1398893
>>1398947
2nd. We can go to the sniper siblings once we deal with the top secret stuff. They'll probably give us some justifications to recruit the snipers while we're at it.

>>1398893
>>1398947
>>1399109
Thirding.

“Alright, princess, I’ve got to take care of business.” You step out of the turret again, “Get some sun, at least. The delicate flower of a wizard had to guide me to a place where we could be all on our lonesome before he’d even talk to me, and he doesn’t think his target’s a little girl. So relax.”

“Um!” Maddalyn complained, but when you looked back at her, she relented. “I…okay.”

“Lieutenant,” you wave Von Metzeler over, “I’m going to a meeting. If any funny looking clowns with…these sort of deals?” you trace lines on your face like the markings on the Riverman, “Whisker looking things? Like some sort of catfish thing? He’s not allowed anywhere near here. He’s bad news.”

“Is he a spy?” Von Metzeler did not question your command, only asking for specification.

“He’s from Valsten, I think sure.” You say. “He’s pretty nasty because of reasons that are hard to explain.”

“Demons, monsters, ghosts,” Metzeler shrugs, “I have heard stories from your crew. Nothing can escape judgment at the end. If he is an agent of Valsten, let him come. The Crown’s Shadow is always looking for more guests to their fair.”

“Crown’s Shadow?” You’d never heard of them.

“Intelligence Office Assassins and special operatives. Do you remember the barber shop?”

“Of course.” You nod slowly.

“Enjoy your meeting.” Von Metzeler turned his attention back to the work on the manor.

You made your way down to the place the meeting was said to be taking place over the radio, the bakery on 15th street, around the back. As expected, a man was standing there. He looked remarkably plain; he was so ordinary looking, it seemed somehow unique. Completely normal looking in a way that seemed off.

“If you want bread, you’re at the wrong door.” He said helpfully.

>I’m looking for a ferryman.
>I’m not looking for bread.
>So is this where

>>1399394
>>I’m looking for a ferryman.
No point getting shot because someone thinks we intercepted a partial transmission.

“I’m looking for a ferryman.” You say without hesitation.

“Aren’t we all?” the ordinary man replied, stomping on the ground deliberately, twice.

Suddenly, a door opened on the ground to your right, and a masked man rasped at you, “Come.”

At least this man in a hole in the floor was letting you go in on your own, instead of nabbing you and dragging you to the depths.

“So is the hatch in the ground really necessary?” you ask as the masked man shuts the hold in the pavement after you.

“We didn’t put it there,” the masked man said, surprisingly responding to your idle chatting, “This place used to be used for smuggling, a long time ago. This little hatch connects to a mess of tunnels that have been around since before Alexander marched across the continent. We’ve shut off most of them, of course. After today, this one will be shut as well.”

“You’re rather personable for a spook.” You mutter.

“Command said to be friendly with the people sharing a deathwish.”

“Has anybody ever told you how you inspire confidence in others?” you ask sarcastically.

“Has anybody ever told you that you can’t help volunteering for strange shit?” the masked man shot back, “You act like you signed up for the wrong branch.”

“This was a call for volunteer tankers, wasn’t it? I think I’m in the right place.” You keep going through the tunnel. It only went one way, so it was impossible to get lost.

“You’re the funniest tanker we’ve ever known,” the government spook says, “But for once that’s exactly what command wants.” When you reached a fork in the tunnels, the spook pointed you down the leftmost one. “Just go down there til you see a light. You’ll come out in the briefing room.”

“Sure.” You say to what suddenly seems to be just the darkness. With a sigh, you continue down the hole for what feels like forever. You counted yourself fortunate to be used to tight, dark spaces.

Suddenly, you saw a light casting down from in front of you. You clambered over to it, shielding your eyes from the bright light shining down from above, before climbing up out of the hole.

“Lieutenant Von Tracht of Von Blum’s 1st Battalion of Panzers, 3rd Company,” a smooth, rolling voice greeted you as you stood up. “Generalleutnant, this volunteer has already proven his worth in the past, despite his…short, service. To be honest, I would have likely had him appointed for this task if he hadn’t volunteered. Thankfully, his ambition seems to be at least equal to his extraordinary luck.”

A Generalleutnant? You still couldn’t see too clearly as your eyes were adjusting, but if a Generalleutnant was around, there was no doubt that whatever sort of operation this was, was quite important indeed.

“I would think this plan would call for somebody more experienced,” an older voice said, rough like broken granite, “This lieutenant seems far too green.”

“This operation is not ordinary, Herr Von Weltenz,” the smoother voice replied, “A veteran of ten wars would be just as green in this situation as a babe.”

>Wait to be addressed
>Could I know why I had to crawl through a click of tunnels to get here?
>Not that I don’t enjoy all this praise, but I’d like to know what I’m supposed to be doing.
>Other

>>1399578
Wait to be addressed, either they spill more in their idle rambling or we'll get what we need to know eventually

>>1399578
>despite his…short, service.

I sure as hell hope that wasn't a dig on our height.

You waited and let your eyes adjust a bit more. You’d speak when the time came.

“Your opinion of such matters shows your own lack of experience, Shade. Your department’s attempts to groom this boy into a folk hero are not considerate of tactical reality.” The gruff voice said with a hint of annoyance under its mannered demeanor.

“We shall see, Generalleutnant, we shall see. If it eases your fears any, Von Tracht’s part in this is hardly the most vital part.” The smoother voice pleaded with the higher officer.

“You would see it as the most vital part if you had the appreciation for the risk of failure that comes with war. If the Lieutenant fails in his task, should he be needed to do it, your infiltrators, as well as the opportunity to seize the initiative, are doomed.”

“Have some faith in this man, Von Weltenz. Your trust will be richly rewarded.”

“Hmph.”

Your eyes finally adjusted to the bright light of the room, and along with the “Shade,” a long nosed man in a suit, and the short, portly and bearded Generalleutnant Von Weltenz, there sat at desks a few other men, mostly of middle age, with hairs greying at their roots. They all eyed you with suspicion.

“So, Von Tracht,” the Shade clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “Welcome. It is such a pleasure that you volunteered. I’m glad we could count on you to not only put yourself forward, but also to be so…prompt.” He hissed every S sound that came out of his mouth in a way that was just enough to be noticeable, and he lingered on some words a little too long. The way he pronounced other words was odd, but all the oddities were just enough to not be noticeable unless one was in your position, where they were the only thing to pay attention to.

“Any other volunteers?” one of the other men asked loudly.

“There is only room for one volunteer, Captain Honnrieg. Him, and whomever he choses to accompany him. Any other volunteers after the first were to be, sadly, declined.” The Shade tapped his fingers together rhythmically.

“Well then,” another man rose, this one greyer and more leathery and wrinkled than the other, his skin tanned dark and crackled by years of sun. He had been smoking a cigar that drowned the air around him in thick grey smoke that stank up the whole room. “What sort of tanks you got. It’d be best to get your own.”

“Oh,” you weren’t expecting to be addressed first by this tortoise looking man, “m/32s and m/28s.”

“The Von Blums have special variants of m/32s,” the Generalleutnant said lowly.

“I have both types in my platoon,” you add.

“The barge’ll only be able to take one of the big ones,” the leathery man sucked in a drag of his cigar, “Could take two of the little ones. Could also take more ‘n that, but that’s a big risk of the seagulls seeing something’s up.”

You still weren’t sure what was going on, but the man called the Shade speaks next.

“Well then, Von Tracht, what do you feel more comfortable with? One of your big tanks, or two of your small ones?”

>I couldn’t tell you. I need to know more. (Write in questions: Don’t expect all of them to be answered; some might be ignored because they ask too much)
>I’d feel better with an actual platoon instead of one or two tanks.
>One m/32 is fine.
>I’ll go with two m/28s.
>Can I ask for something special that I don't have? (Write in request)
>Other


>>1399680
Richter is 174 centimeters tall. Make of that what you will, although the Generalleutnant seems about half a head shorter.

>>1400229
>>I’d feel better with an actual platoon instead of one or two tanks, but since that seems out of the question, one m/32 is fine.
>>Will an infantry detail be accompanying me?
I feel like asking to know more is a trap question. Might as well take what were most comfortable with and see if we can get some special forces assigned to us.

>>1400229
>>1400279
2nd. Let's go with what we know since asking too many questions is something spooks might not like.

>>1400229
>Depends on whether radio silence is required.

>>1401509
"Is radio silence required?" you ask.

"Of course," came the reply from the spindly, mysterious man that seemed to be in charge, "You know how to use signal flags, do you not?"

You did, but signal flags were largely considered obsolete in Strossvald's armored forces. Training in the use of them was basic and only to be used in dire circumstances. Most tanks weren't even issued with flags anymore, just a single high visibility cloth marker on a stick, whose primary use was designating an immobilized vehicle.

"When things get loud, nobody'll care who's on the radio," one of the seated men said, "I'd say when shots start flying, there won't be any need for flags."

>Voting still open, this is just specification for a more informed choice

>>1401613
>It's better to have a single tank if the radio is not to be used.
>One m/32 is fine.

“If I might be forced to not use the radio, I’d prefer having more firepower in one place.” You decide, “I’d rather have a full platoon, but since that seems out of the question, one m/32 will be fine.”

“Right th’n,” the wrinkled man exhaled a cloud of smoke, “Hear those are temperamental, though. Tankers cert’nly bitch about it enough.”

“Will an infantry detail be accompanying me in this…whatever it is?” You ask.

“Shadowman,” the same smoking grizzly man coughed, “The kid ought to know what’s happening now, don’t you think?”

“Very well,” the tall agent pointed to a map of the area mounted on the wall, “I suppose you ought to know now, Von Tracht, that Valsten does not plan to repeat 1929. Neither does Strossvald. Our southerly neighbors expect us to try and weather their assault, to stall them and wear them down, and if their plans do not work, to hide across the Glennz, well protected, strategically speaking, from counterattack. The Archduke would not be satisfied with this outcome.” The Shade smirked, “This is a preemptive assault. This time, it is we who will invade, and unlike the last war, slow infantry forces and the damnable river will not limit our spoils of war.”

“Spies have found hidden siege artillery batteries that have recently finished being constructed.” The alpha spook continued, pointing out areas on the map, marked with red Xs. “Tonight, teams of infiltrators, as well as raiders that will enter enemy lines under cover of darkness and routes secured by our spies, will attack and destroy these siege artillery positions. Shortly after that, a large number of bomber aircraft will conduct heavy bombardment on prepared enemy positions, and then we will seize the towns of Koudestroom and Havarnn, before driving deeper, depending on how our other crossings succeed.”

Before you could ask what your role was, the man who had loudly asked if there had been any other volunteers addressed you. “You’ll be set up on our extraction point, canhumper. In case we run into anything heavier than anticipated, or get stuck, you’re our big guns.”

“Lieutenant Von Tracht, Captain Honnrieg.” The shadey fellow gestured to the seated captain, whose face was covered in a shadow of coarse hairs, with a large brow that cast his eyes into a sinister shadow. “He will be in command of the raider teams.”

“A few guys will be holding our beach with you, in case you need to go,” Captain Honnrieg said, “but if you want anything beyond that, and it turns out that you’re needed, then you’d best get to my men before they get wiped out because you were busy being timid, because I can’t spare anybody to babysit you.”

“…Pardon the Captain’s roughness, Lieutenant,” the Shade said, looking disapprovingly at the Captain, “The Crown Prince insisted that my capable Shadows were better suited away from the war. Honnrieg’s light infantry are well suited to this sort of work, despite their crudeness, however. The border to the east demands such, so I understand.”

“You shouldn’t have sacked Heller if you wanted a real leader for this goof off,” Honnrieg stated insolently, “You might think this is a new idea but Hell was doing it eleven years ago, before this shrimp’s balls dropped. Just cause he’s got the same name doesn’t make him the same man.”

>Protest this sort of disparagement; you don’t have to stand for this
>Remain silent and hope the captain tires soon
>Urge the meeting to move on; outright stepping over someone of higher rank
>Other

>>1401813
>Remain silent and hope the captain tires soon

>>1401842
2nd

>>1401842
Supporting

Sorry for being away for a while. Planning things out and things aren't on schedule.

---

You simply glare at Captain Honnrieg. Being discounted due to your low standings was a familiar feeling, although it stung a little more coming from somebody of low birth. If you didn’t entertain his provocations, perhaps he would be satisfied.

What he said about the same name, though, combined with his service “in the east,” and the officer of his recommendation being named Heller…could he have known your uncle?

Not that it appeared to be earning you any respect in that case. Most of the lower class were ignorant of the lower nobility. For all the Captain likely knew, you were but one of many “Von” names, and “Tracht” held about the same significance as “Smitt.”

Not that the actual organization of family names was tidy anyways. After the Grossreich’s conquest, and the later victory against them in the war for independence, titles had been thoroughly mixed up in Strossvald. Some non-nobility that had been granted titles for their service had their names changed, others had been denounced and taken up other names only to buy titles once more…a thick soupy mess that you only had the shallowest knowledge of.

File: map_Varbonnlands_SalzBruc(...).png (1.23 MB, 1500x1500)

1.23 MB PNG

“Don’t have anything to say for yourself?” Honnrieg kept up his harassment, “Just hoping I’ll shut up and forget that your bright green panties are showing through your tin can knight armor?

“Captain,” the Shade cleared his throat, “That is quite enough. Were we so gifted with foresight that we would see this exact situation coming to pass, then perhaps your great king of the east would not have been exiled. However, it seems that you must be reminded that it is the year of 1932, not 1923. Proposing to bring back Heller Von Tracht is an impossibility and has been for years, so you will have to make do with our selection.”

“Hah.” Captain Honnrieg leaned his chair back and kicked his feet over the desk, “I have to get my bitching done now in case I die in this mess.”

“…Moving along.” The Shade said, “To reiterate the plan, for this, called ‘Operation Harvest.’ Firstly, agents disguised as Valsten soldiers will secure routes for the raid teams to assault the positions of the siege gun turrets. Then, the raid teams, led by Captain Honnrieg, will cross the Glennz river in small boats, and attack and destroy the siege guns. After this, they will return to their crossing points, and retreat back to friendly lines before our aerial bombardment begins. Should any raid team run into problems while retreating, or otherwise encounter an unforeseen problem, Lieutenant Von Tracht will be waiting in his tank to provide assistance, but will otherwise be waiting at the extraction site and guarding it in case our plans are discovered too early. Your operation will begin at 03:00, tomorrow, and you will be allowed one hour before the bombing runs begin.”

“Enemy presence is expected to be light,” the Generalleutnant said afterwards, “Our disguised agents should be able to blind the enemy to our presence in the first stage of this operation. You will be able to identify them through black bandages on their right arms. Due to non-wounding attacks made by shooters recently, this is not an unusual trait; only the coloration of the bandages is. No armored assets besides armored patrol cars are expected on your way in, but as soon as your attack begins, there is a possibility of armored units being mobilized. However, your goal is to not be engaged by any quick reaction forces or patrols. You are to move in, accomplish your objectives, then leave as soon as possible. The Lieutenant, ideally, should remain at the river’s side. When you begin your attacks, our infiltrators’ cover will be blown, so they will not be covering your flanks. Expect to have no assistance beyond what you bring in the boats.”

“Are there any questions? Anything that those not present earlier may have missed, that was not mentioned?” the Shade asks those present.

>No questions.
>Actually, with this in mind, I'd like to change the composition of my armored force (if you have any second thoughts)
>Other (Write in)

>in case it isn't clear, light blue is phase 1, green is 2, yellow is 3, purple is 4. Red Xs are locations of siege guns. Red dashed lines are the limits of the zone of general control for infiltrated allies letting you sneak in. Any QRFs are likely to use the roads to get there.

>>1406163

How will we know where and when we're needed? Are there going to be prepared signals, runners or flares or something? Or are we just going to rush in there and start shooting blindly as soon as the shooting starts? It'll be dark so our effectiveness will be greatly diminished without some method of coordinating.

>>1406248
Supporting. No point having all that firepower if we can't see anything. Even signal flags are kind of useless if there's not enough natural light.

“I must have missed how we’re signaling each other, so I know when and where we’re needed. Are we using flares, runners, Elkarpfen’s 4th played with a trumpet?” You ask. “That, and 3 in the morning? We won’t be able to see, let alone hit, anything.”

You did know a few people that could magically see in the dark, but if everybody’s black eyes worked the same, you remembered that Maddalyn had told you she couldn’t see through glass. Even if she knew how to gun, the fact that gun optics used glass magnification lenses precluded actually using the guns with sights.

“For the first stage, we’re using duck calls,” Honnrieg said, “We’ll differentiate ourselves from the wildlife with naval code. A for 1st Squad, B for 2nd, you get the deal. That’s how we signal that we’re in position. Once we’re all in position, the fun starts. After a squad gets their gun, the leader takes out his flare gun and pops a green flare into the sky. That means they’re coming back. If a red flare goes up, that means they’re in trouble and they need a tank. If there’s no flares, that means everybody’s toast and we fucked up. Not that that’ll happen. The team on the landing point will also have a light mortar, which can provide battlefield illumination. That’ll light all of us up too, so I’d prefer you not to use that unless you really need to. The call and response is 'We're back, cunts' and 'Back to Sosaldt with you smelly shits.'”

“Ay,” the smoker belched, “What about the th’ng. Disn’t that do light too? An only where you want it?”

“We’d rather not reveal that we have that, yet, shipmaster” the Generalleutnant said, “Besides, that is only a test unit.”

>Other questions?
>That’ll be all.

>>1406808
In that case I'd like to change composition to two m/28s Incase we need one to stay behind at the beach head.

If possible can we get the tanks from the motor pool and have them be readied to scuttle Incase we need to get back on the barges ASAP and have no time to properly load and tie down a tank, let alone two.

>>1407309
I say we stay with the one tank, in case we Face enemy armour it might be better to have the extra punch in the bigger gun

>>1407309
It's easy to lose a tank in darkness, so let's keep it at one.

>>1407373
>>1407375
Alright then, but could we switch out to a default load out m/32, instead of our custom vonblumm one.

Concerns still stand about the practicality of loading the tank securely back on the barges safely under fire.

>>1407698

Maybe it can swim

>>1407698
I concur. If something happens, we don't want to have to abandon a custom tank.

>>1407698
Aye not our custome made one... But what about the hellfire Shell? Shall we bring it or leave it behind

>>1407877
Bring it. What if we meet that Soulbinder?

>>1407884
He cant hurt us, but in case we need to scuttle the tank we May not be able to save the shell

>>1407877
Hang on, I thought the Hellfire shell was made to fit the larger main gun of the von Blum M32. If we're taking a standard 32, that shell will be useless.

>>1407750
It's not the Edelweiss


>>1407877
I thought in order to permanently kill a soulbinder we'd need to kill him and his golem, otherwise he just comes back.

What if he didn't bring his golem?

>>1407877
This >>1407919 is correct. The Hellfire shell is a 47mm shell, while the standard m/32 uses a 37mm gun. Since firing the shell is an important element in arming it, bringing the shell without a suitable gun wouldn't accomplish much.

However I would like to add that a Soulbinder is not an immaterial being, and can very much be hurt by conventional weapons. The doubt is cast upon whether they can be put down for long before they just get back up, as said by >>1407925

I've got to go to a dentist appointment in an hour so I'll let things sit, and be discussed further if needed, til I'm back from that, before updating.

As a reminder (or maybe a heads up in case I've never said this) I can elaborate on, or state again, anything Richter knows or has been told.

>>1407933
Elaborate on this famous uncle of his. I remember you mentioning him many threads ago but I don't remember you saying much about him.

Anyways I just worked a night shift so this is probably it for me today.

Famous? Well, maybe to some. To most in the military who had heard of him he was more seen as infamous.

Heller was your father’s younger brother by three years, but you had only met him once, perhaps twice; he didn’t get along with the family. Your father had described him as rude, uncompromising, violent, and having more vices than sense, and your mother had a similar opinion of him; apparently, in the past when he was still tolerated in polite company, he could only be relied upon to make a scene, usually by attempting to seduce every woman at a social, including those who were married.

Army dispatches held no high opinions of his manners either, noting insubordination, theft of military property, attempted bribery, assault upon superior officers, assault upon subordinate officers, assault upon civilians, sexual assault of staff secretaries…it was easier to list misdemeanors that Heller Von Tracht hadn’t committed.

Notably, Heller Von Tracht had never, ever, been accused of treason, or incompetence in his service, nor of exploitation of the populace or looting.

His troublemaking had begun at a young age, you had learned, and apparently persisted through the officer academy, as he found himself assigned to the desolate Sosaldtian border, where bandit princes and mercenary bands terrorized the populations of both Sosaldtian and Strossvald towns alike. A mean front, where few wished to be assigned, as it was a quagmire bereft of any glory and only a pit with constant, meaningless skirmishes.

Heller was not trained as a tanker; indeed, at the time of his schooling, the armor academy would not even exist for another year. Armor training was instead done at the unit level. However, this did not prevent him from attaining some. The most valuable unauthorized acquisitions he had made were six tanks. They were outright stolen from another command’s shipment, and despite numerous protests, never returned.

These six tanks featured prominently in dispatches from then on, and mysteriously, despite losses to mechanical failures, the number of tanks in dispatches never seemed to go down, or suddenly grew by one or two, and were not noted with identifying type number; a sign of captured equipment. Additional dispatches less charitably concluded that it was also stolen.

Heller Von Tracht’s popularity soared soon after he stole this first batch, and used it to crush a brigand cabal known as the Fangs. “The Fangs” were destroyed three more times after in quick succession: it was a popular name for up and coming criminal warbands. Then the Scrappers, the Pleasant Gentlemen, the Gilded Hands, and more. Heller Von Tracht’s local fame exploded, and Sosaldtian criminals feared to even tread near the border; which suited then Captain Heller just fine, as he simply headed into Sosaldtian borders to crush the banditry where they nested.

This particular practice was what ultimately ended Heller’s career.

You had your doubts about what the truth was, when you had researched the matter. You had never gotten to know your uncle, but you could see his character in the records of his service. He may have racked up assault and theft charges, but most never seemed to be followed up upon. He was certainly a troublemaker, but he never exploited the populace or anything of that nature.

Which made the official line of him being sacked due to brigandry incredibly suspect.

Some time into the peaceful days when Heller had destroyed every local bandit group, a scandal arose from seemingly nowhere, concerning the looting of several Sosaldtian villages. These charges in combination with representatives from the eastern country threatening to escalate matters. This in itself was odd, as well, since said representatives from Sosaldt’s southern fortress cities could almost never be contacted in regards to the anarchy of their western borders.

So Heller Von Tracht and many of his trusted officers, despite little evidence besides dubious testimony appearing, were dishonorably discharged. Where Heller went after that, you don’t know. The last time you’d seen him was shortly after he had been sacked, and he had visited back home for the only time you could reliably remember.

After he had left and you asked what was happening, your father merely told you that Heller was going to “go traveling,” and nobody had seen hide nor hair of him since.
All of what you learned of your uncle, Heller Von Tracht, you found out long after his departure. It was a great shame; when you had finally discovered who he was and what he had done, you could no longer get to the hero of the story.

You stopped reminiscing when you realized everybody was staring at you.

“Er, yes, with the plan in mind…I’m still set on using one tank. The m/32, standard model. Do I have to use my own materiel or is there another motor pool I can access?” you ask, “If possible, I’d rather not reduce the effectiveness of my platoon should the vehicle have to be scuttled.”

“I am afraid, that you will have to use a vehicle of your own, as well as your own crew.” The Shade replied, clicking a finger against his teeth. “If your donated vehicle is lost, the replacement companies are fully stocked. The first vehicle lost is the most certain to be replaced, in this case.”

“Then I have no further questions.” You say.

“Nor I.” Honnrieg said. The boatmaster grunted in agreeance, as did the rest of the attendees.

“Good. Be ready at the assembly point half an hour in advance.” The Generalleutnant announced, “you are dismissed. No need for subtlety now; simply walk out the front door. You will find yourself at the city’s train station.”

That was still quite a walk back to your camp, you thought as you walked towards the door. You felt a long, spindly hand on your shoulder before you left. It was the Intelligence Office goon, who now that he was next to you, seemed unnervingly tall.

“Wait one moment, Lieutenant,” he said, “there is something I must ask, that I chose not to reveal in front of our comrades. The matter of your…unorthodox, crew member.”
How much did he know, you wonder. “What about them?”

“What about her, Von Tracht. Do you plan to bring her along rather than a trained soldier? It does not seem to have troubled you yet, but I certainly should not have to tell you how irresponsible it is to bring your wife to be to a war.”

>I have a replacement prepared. I don’t plan on putting her in danger.
>Thank you for your concern, but things will be just fine. I have no plans to modify my crew composition.
>I’ll worry about my affairs and you worry about yours. I do things my way.
>Other

>>1409426
>>Thank you for your concern, but things will be just fine. I have no plans to modify my crew composition.

>>1409488
Supporting

>>1409426
I have a replacement prepared.

>>1409488
>>1410065
I thought we were gonna.move maddalyn to a rear area when the fighting started. Not towards active fighting.

Why are we bringing her closer to the soul binder?

>>1410102
I support this... We dont want to put her in danger

>>1409426
>I have a replacement prepared. I don’t plan on putting her in danger.

God damn this is a late "evening" isn't it.

“I have a replacement prepared,” you replied calmly, “I don’t plan on putting her in danger.”

“Very well,” the Shade stepped around you and pushed you lightly towards the door, “Good luck, then. Ah, and you probably do not need me to tell you this, but even after the mission is completed…you aren’t allowed to talk about it to anybody.”

“I know.” You say without looking back.

---

As was told to you, after navigating some winding halls and going up too many stairs to be reasonable, you found yourself outside the city train station. Even now, there were trains being unloaded. Crates of artillery shells were hauled onto waiting trucks, and loose rifle rounds bounced out of unstained, rough wooden boxes labeled simply in black stenciling. A few men clumsily pushed the shots into clips, but it seemed they had hardly prepared most of the ammunition for easy use. Was the front here truly ready for war?

Maybe this was simply additional preparation taken on top of what had already been finished, you concluded. The buildup hadn’t taken place all at once, after all.

The replacement companies were based closed to here, too, saving you some time. You stood in line for replacements and resupply, thinking about what you would do later. You could get the crew member to replace Maddalyn with here, as you had arranged earlier. You weren’t sure exactly how to tell her, or if you should; she would undoubtedly be upset, and refuse your decision. With how much influence her family carried, there wasn’t much you could do if she set her mind to it anyways.

That is, if she set her mind to it. She had grown increasingly more malleable to your will, you noticed, as time went on. Really the bigger concern was over upsetting her rather than making her do something.

“Hey,” a clerk called to you, “You gonna daydream there or do you want something?”

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly snap back into the real world. That was a risk too; you had been lucky recently for the trips to dreamland to take place in the evening or at night, but this time, you couldn’t afford to be pulled there again. What could you do about it, though? Worst came to worst, you would have to trust your crew to know what they were doing. “I need a spare man. One of my crew…went ill.”

The clerk cocked his eyebrow, but sighed and looked down at his papers, “Pretty good timing for that, I’d say. Whatever. What do you need?”

>I need a new loader. Anybody’s fine.
>I need a new loader, but don’t want any dredges you have. Get me somebody who knows what they’re doing. (Greedy)
>You know what, never mind, I’m going to grab somebody I know.
>I need…(Other. With enough bluffing, forgery, and lies, you can get just about anything your rank can buy you…)

>>1411455
>>I need a new loader, but don’t want any dredges you have. Get me somebody who knows what they’re doing. (Greedy)

For this kind of mission I'd rather have someone competent. If we need to beg, bribe or bluff so be it.

>>1411895
Seconded.

>>1411895

Don't we have our old loader? We just need someone to replace him at his current position.

>>1411455
>>1411895
>>1412230
Oh yeah, so a temporary loan of one loader for this mission?

>>1412236
Not temporary. We don't want to bring Maddy into combat even after this.

>>1412230
>Don't we have our old loader?

Well, no. You're thinking of the last go round of this story. Here, you went from a 4-crew tank to a 5-crew tank. Your current loader is actually a radio operator.

>>1412242
Oh. Then

>>1411455
>I need a new loader, but don’t want any dredges you have. Get me somebody who knows what they’re doing.

“I need a new loader for a tank,” you request, “but I don’t want your dredges, or anybody you’re just looking to get rid of. Get me somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

The clerk just looks down his nose at you. “Who’re you with?”

You tell him, “Von Blum, 1st Battalion, 3rd Company, 5th platoon.”

“5th platoon?” the clerk’s brow crinkles and he looks through some papers, “Oh, that one. You’re a right mess, you know that? Your information is incomplete. Says what you’ve been assigned but nothing about your manpower, subordinate officers, there’s a tank missing information as to where it even came from...You see what sort of problem we have here?”

“Er hm.” You half nod. You could have sworn you had somebody take care of this. Maybe the right papers didn’t get to the right people?

“But hey,” the clerk raised a hand and waved it side to side, “No problems. We get problems all the time. It’s a fact of life. Sometimes all you can do is wait for all the missing data to show up in the scrapyards and casualty reports. But…” he leans forward and pushes his opticals up, “You want somebody good. We like saving these good people for favors, you know? Are you going to do me a favor so I can justify to my bosses why I can give away one of these, fine, fine loaders?”

>How about a big chunk of money?
>What if I scouted you somebody valuable to replace them?
>I can’t tell you what it is right now, but trust me when I say that if you do me a favor, I can make sure some very important people hear about it.
>Whoever you have can’t be that good. Sell me on them before you get any ideas.
>Other

>>1412824
Whoever you have can't be that good.

>>1412824
I don't mind doing you a favour, but I'd like to see who you can offer first.