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/qst/ - Quests


One hundred and thirteen flatships bobbed gently up and down, gliding through the misty sea. Twenty thousand souls waited anxiously in their wooden bellies, some seasick, some prayerful - to the Emperor, for success in their first battle, or their ancestors for some spurt of heretofore hidden strength so that they may not disgrace their family name. Xavier, the chief Scrivener, read out loud parts of the Annals to the huddled brotherhood within the roomy flagship's hold.

Three legion's worth in number, though not in quality. With three legions, it was often boasted by stool generals of pubs and bars that one could conquer a kingdom. In the old days, when the True Imperials were led by the Emperor, you only needed one.

These twenty thousand were nothing like legions, young or old. Most were barely even soldiers, come to think of it. The militiamen formed the vast majority of it; seventeen thousand, or thereabouts. The Overcommander of the People's Militia didn't exactly know how many. He was lousy at bookkeeping. The rest were filled with free companies. The Banded Brotherhood, or Bluebloods, who only accepted those they considered of gentlemanly lineage. The Marchers, who were making a name for themselves as decent mercenaries who could be relied to keep up their part of the bargain, most of the time. The Rats, scavengers and battle-chasers, as old as the Empire and with a gritty history to match. And the Black Company, one of the Free Companies of Khatovar, wherever that was.

Even ignoring the amalgamated who were temporarily under our command, our brotherhood of black numbered a good thousand, now. The ports never had a shortage of young impressionable fools who knew how to use a spear and wanted to die. Those we rejected. Fewer were those, older and wiser with pain, who had seen things they would rather not remember, wishing only to throw away their past to begin again in the anonymous lives of a brother of the black. They had come to Reed, to the recruitment grounds with doom in their eyes. Those we took.

Our company is a dour little thing. That isn't to say everyone is humourless as Trevain. But it requires a certain desperation to join the Company, a desire to flee from history.

"And that," Captain said, "is why I cannot accept your resignation."
>>
>>3704451

I blinked. And it wasn't the whale oil candle, whose fumes were acrid. "I am a danger to the Company."

"Everyone is a danger to the Company," Captain said. "You think you're the first person to attract Intelligence's interest? Don't be so full of yourself, Aurelius. The world does not revolve around you."

"Redhair died-"

"And died well. I saw the bodies. They had no wounds on their backs." Captain smiled tightly. "They died well. That's what the Company wants, one and all. If they didn't die today, they would have died in Wae, or in the next theatre. Death is our business, murder our duty." She stood up. Lieutenant deferringly stood back to give her space to move through. She stepped over to the window, looking out to the ever moving fleet around the flagship.

The Ice-Queen of Khulan, they called her, on account of her snow-blue hair and snow-blue eyes. A Varangian nobility, if nobility they had. I had saved her life, once. It was something I had over her. But that was personal. This was business.

"The hunters will come again," I said.

"I have studied them," Captain said, staring at a point of light. It was night. Mariners were using torches for the lookout. "Imperial Intelligence. Censores. They are not a monolith."

Not a monolith, I remembered Raindrops' giggling voice. Oh no, never a monolith. Rebels are not nearly as unified as they want everyone else to think.

"Factions vie against each other, constantly challenging their neighbour's doctrines. Watchers made to watch the watchers, their own limitless authority cockblocked by the ambitions of others' within their ranks. You've bloodied the nose of whichever group it was that wanted your children, sergeant. And venators are very expensive. No, they won't come. Not to Wae."

>I fidgeted. "But after Wae?"

>"Not if half the things I've heard of Wae is true," I conceded.
>>
>>3704453
>"Not if half the things I've heard of Wae is true," I conceded.
She's not budging and that's final. Once we survive Wae then we can bring it up again.
>>
>>3704453
>I fidgeted. "But after Wae?"
>>
>>3704453

>I fidgeted. "But after Wae?
>>
>>3704453
>>I fidgeted. "But after Wae?"
>>
>I fidgeted. "But after Wae?"
>>
>>3704453

>"Not if half the things I've heard of Wae is true," I conceded.

So, corporal Hood is a thing? Will we form a platoon?
>>
>>3704490
>>3704492
>>3704494
>>I fidgeted. "But after Wae?"

I heard the smile in her voice. "Why, sergeant. I didn't take you for an optimist. I thought you would have subscribed to Lieutenant's school of thought." Which was that we were all going to die before we even landed.

Lieutenant huffed. He had been violently against the campaign. He much preferred the contract with Belisarius. It was conventional. We would be among allies. A war of oases kingdoms and Imperial might. But by the time I'd led the rest of the Company back to Bath, it was too late to change course.

Wae was different. Wae was... odd. The people there weren't quite right. All they produced was shit for iron and bizarrely beautiful architecture, as far as the rest of the world was concerned. And much of it wasn't for sale. A strange cult that was even more notable for their unwillingness to proselytise was flowering in those secluded isles.

The only other thing they were known for was the piracy.

"The Wae control the sea around their isles," Lieutenant said ominously. "Their priests sacrifice virgin boys captured from Peninsular villages once a year by the thousands. The women, they keep. Only those accepted by the gods of Wae are allowed to land in those gods-damned isles. That is why only Waelander merchants come in and come out from the eastern sea."

Captain did not turn away from the window. She didn't need to to let us feel her displeasure. "The reason only Waelanders go that far east, Lieutenant, is because nobody wants what little they do have to give. It is a waste of sail. They would have been left alone, if they weren't a nuisance in the trade routes with all their piracy." Rapers, vagabonds, pirates. Those were the Wae that everyone else knew. "The astrologers predicted a rainless weather. They are usually not wrong."
>>
>>3704503

"I maintain that we do not have a complete understanding of their capabilities," Lieutenant said. "We don't have maps. We don't even know their political system, aside from the fact that there is a King - or, at least, a king. They call him the Emperor."

"Kings, emperors, khagans. Different words for the same thing."

"Not this one. He is supposed to be divine."

"Are you suggesting that the Emperor threw everything away to go east and rule a few patches of dry land?" Captain said with some amusement. "That does not sound like the Emperor that I know."

"Not that anyone knows what the Emperor was like," I commented.

Captain ignored that. "You can protest, but the fact remains that the commission has been taken."

That made Lieutenant back off. The Black Company never broke our contracts. "That, incidentally, concludes our discussion on your premature resignation. The answer is a no, Aurelius." She whirled, a dramatic effect when you have hair as long and startlingly blue as Captain. "Not when I need my veterans the most. And most definitely not when he is married to all of my sorcerers."

>"What can I say? My golden eyes brings all the sorceresses to the yard."

>I stayed quiet. Polygamy was frowned upon in polite societies. Black Company was not polite society. But it was a society its very own.
>>
>>3704505
>I stayed quiet. Polygamy was frowned upon in polite societies. Black Company was not polite society. But it was a society its very own.
>>
>>3704505

>I stayed quiet. Polygamy was frowned upon in polite societies. Black Company was not polite society. But it was a society its very own.
>>
Yeah yeah, we get it, the sorceress are invaluable the two others non magical people of the relation are just collateral, I wonder if she wouldn't kick us out herself if it wasn't for the mages...she can't even get rid of the babies and move on since it would upset her mages too...suddenly we became a weak link of the company.
>>
>>3704518
All of a sudden that armor became even more useful in keeping us alive.
>>
>>3704505
>"What can I say? My golden eyes brings all the sorceresses to the yard."

Damn right, it's better than yours
>>
>>3704505
>"What can I say? My golden eyes brings all the sorceresses to the yard."
>>
>>3704505

>I stayed quiet. Polygamy was frowned upon in polite societies. Black Company was not polite society. But it was a society its very own.

Nice "break" op
>>
>>3704505
>>I stayed quiet. Polygamy was frowned upon in polite societies. Black Company was not polite society. But it was a society its very own.
>>
>>3704512
>>3704515
>>3704534
>>3704540
>I stayed quiet. Polygamy was frowned upon in polite societies. Black Company was not polite society. But it was a society its very own.

But I hadn't quite married all the Company wizards. We'd managed to recruit an Ensorcelled in Reed. He had been an entertainer before joining, and managed some glamours, but he couldn't even light a cigarette with witchfires.

If there were grades to sorcerers, Shamaness would be a Three, while Dumpling was an upper Two. Truncheon was a mid-One. All the halfway decent ones tended to be enrolled in one of the scholae, or hired help to some prefect or another. Rare resources, sorcerers. I doubted the entire population of Waelanders had more than a single Ensorcelled.

I was between a rock and a tight place. "At least double the guards from now on. Twenty men per patrol."

"Your concerns have been duly noted," Captain said, in a voice that said otherwise. "There are things you need to do, I believe. Picking members of your platoon, for example. Dumpling and Corporal Hood are with you already, I believe?"

"And Mulberry."

Captain's lips curled. "Ah, yes. Trevain's bastard." Lieutenant managed to look surprised despite his face-enclosing helm. I didn't exactly go around shouting about it. "He'll be useful when you land, no doubt. Knowledge of the land and the language."

"She's never been in Wae, not after infancy. One of the reasons she joined was to see the land of her forefathers."

"You seem to attract children wherever you go, Aurelius." She shrugged. "That has its uses. It's easier to blend in when you look like a family."

"Not in Wae."

"No," Captain agreed. "Dumpling certainly would stand out. As would Hood. And everyone else in your platoon, in fact... except you and Mulberry."

"Ah. Eye glamour?" I nodded. "Dumpling can manage something, I think." Partial glamours were much easier to fashion than complete ones.

"Yes. As a ranger, you will be one of the vanguards. As soon as we see land, we will have your platoon - among others - make way via boat. Do not attempt to make contact with the other rangers. They will be scouting the shores to find a good place to make a landing. The fleet will similarly be off limits to you. We can't risk grounding the vessels."

"What about my men?" I asked. I'd heard the exclusive they. Which meant that there would be a separate you.

"You are blessed with a uniquely Waelandish feature," Captain said.

"Peninsular."

"Same thing, after the centuries of rape." Southern Peninsulars were not known for bravery. They were quite good at long-distance running-the-fuck-away. "What is important is that you and Mulberry can blend in. Father and son."
>>
>>3704543

>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.

>"We'll speak again of my resignation after Wae," I said. The talk was not finished.
>>
>>3704546
>>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.
>>
>>3704546
>>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.
>>
>>3704546
>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.
Oh boy, will we get into a pissing match with Not!Samurai? Get pranked by Not!Kitsune? Accident into the graces of a Not!Daimyo?
Find out on the next Dragonball Z!
>>
>>3704546

>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.

Should we start teaching med to Honey on our downtime? We are without an apprentice and it's a useful skill to have, but maybe she's still too young
>>
>>3704555
you are way too optimistic, you are counting that we will be able to make landfall at all and not drown at sea because of Not!Kamikaze
>>
>>3704558
That's to be expected Anon. Everything else that I mentioned might not actually exist.
>>
>>3704546
>>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.
>>
>>3704550
>>3704553
>>3704555
>>3704557
>>3704565
>"Daughter." I sighed. "You haven't seen Mulberry, have you? She has a thing against fathers." Still, the plan had merit. We looked like the locals, and as long as they didn't start talking we might even make it deep.

"Do not let me detain you from your duties, sergeant," Captain said. And that was that.

Hood - Corporal Hood, I corrected myself silently - fell into step after I closed the door to Captain's quarter (which was confusing, because the captain of the ship also had his own quarter). "Go well?" She asked.

"Hrrrm."

She smiled sympathetically, "That bad?" She gave me a quick kiss. Suddenly the torches seemed much brighter. How different she was from the murder-psycho that used to leap for my life! "You spent a long time in there. What did you talk about?"

>I told her about my wish to resign. And the thing about needing to take the babies away. It was for their own good.

>"Received new orders. We're going to do some proper Ranger stuff. But before that, do you have the personnel dossiers?" I hadn't made a final choice yet to fill the three empty slots. Ranger platoons were allotted fewer men per, owing to their need for fast travel speed.
>>
>>3704570
>>I told her about my wish to resign. And the thing about needing to take the babies away. It was for their own good.

time to dodge I guess
>>
>>3704570
>I told her about my wish to resign. And the thing about needing to take the babies away. It was for their own good.

>>3704575
She needs her exercise too.
>>
>>3704570

>I told her about my wish to resign. And the thing about needing to take the babies away. It was for their own good.

The plan was to take her with us in wae was it not?
>>
>>3704570
>>I told her about my wish to resign. And the thing about needing to take the babies away. It was for their own good.
>>
Oh my, I guess I didn't need to draft up the Trooper list after all. Looks like anons want to go rogue and leave the Company. Do you guys plan to leave Shamaness behind? She isn't with your platoon since she's the chief Ensorcelled in the Company. And because you already have one in the form of Dumpling.

Also what do you guys plan to do with Mulberry? Tie her up and leave her with the boat? Ditch her even before you get to the boating stage?
>>
>>3704590
wait

I'm not voting to go rogue, I was just voting to come clean to our wife and tell her what we considered, but still stay around now that we were denied

I didn't understand your options very well it seems
>>
>>3704593
>>3704590
This

I just wanted to tell Hood, not actualky leave

I change to the other one to stay then, but still want to tell her about it
>>
>>3704593
Ohh, then it is my fault. Write-ins are always welcome, and can often serve as a source of inspiration for me. I'll add a third option:

>I told her a summary of the conversation. My offer of resignation. Its rejection. And the new mission. An honest marriage is a happy marriage, or so an ancient adage said. I didn't put much stock on old people's sayings, seeing as they tended to leave the world worse than it was when they were young, but this was one I was willing to gamble on.
>>
>>3704598
>>I told her a summary of the conversation. My offer of resignation. Its rejection. And the new mission. An honest marriage is a happy marriage, or so an ancient adage said. I didn't put much stock on old people's sayings, seeing as they tended to leave the world worse than it was when they were young, but this was one I was willing to gamble on.

give some more time to anons consider this one please, since it was a late addition
>>
>>3704593
>>3704596
I'm with these two not what I read into that at all.

Still, I'm for
>"Received new orders. We're going to do some proper Ranger stuff. But before that, do you have the personnel dossiers?" I hadn't made a final choice yet to fill the three empty slots. Ranger platoons were allotted fewer men per, owing to their need for fast travel speed.

Lying to spouses is part and parcel of marraige
>>
>>3704598
+1
>>
>>3704600
Sure sure, gives me time to think out characters for the bloody troops anyway. Characterisation is my greatest weakness. Together with writing. And conversations. And descriptions. And typing.
>>
>>3704598
>I told her a summary of the conversation. My offer of resignation. Its rejection. And the new mission. An honest marriage is a happy marriage, or so an ancient adage said. I didn't put much stock on old people's sayings, seeing as they tended to leave the world worse than it was when they were young, but this was one I was willing to gamble on.
Also QM, that choice really did come off as just saying what was going on rather than actually going through with the plan.
>>
>>3704608
Yeah that was my bad, I should have clarified it was going to be absconding option
>>
>>3704598
>I told her a summary of the conversation. My offer of resignation. Its rejection. And the new mission. An honest marriage is a happy marriage, or so an ancient adage said. I didn't put much stock on old people's sayings, seeing as they tended to leave the world worse than it was when they were young, but this was one I was willing to gamble on.
>>
>>3704618
Worst comes to worst you could always steal Forgotten's method of putting specific actions in brackets as their end result. On the brightside regardless of personal skill, you're at least talking with your players to figure out what went wrong in translation.
>>
>>3704598
>I told her a summary of the conversation. My offer of resignation. Its rejection. And the new mission. An honest marriage is a happy marriage, or so an ancient adage said. I didn't put much stock on old people's sayings, seeing as they tended to leave the world worse than it was when they were young, but this was one I was willing to gamble on.
>>
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>>3704606
>>
>we tell Hood the plan
>she misunderstands it too
>"sure when are we going?
>>
>>3704644
>We tell the others the plan
>They misunderstand it too
>"Wait, we're backstabbing the Prefect?"
>>
>>3704600
>>3704608
>>3704605
>>3704620
>>3704628
>>I told her a summary of the conversation. My offer of resignation. Its rejection. And the new mission. An honest marriage is a happy marriage, or so an ancient adage said. I didn't put much stock on old people's sayings, seeing as they tended to leave the world worse than it was when they were young, but this was one I was willing to gamble on.

But I didn't tell her about the part I was willing to steal the babies away from her and the others. That... could wait. I was sure. Could it? Yes it could.

Hood held my hand and squeezed it tight for a brief moment, secure in the privacy of the darkness in the ship's corridors. "I know the attack was a shock," she said softly, "but you have us now. You're not the only member of the Black Company, you know." She smiled wryly. "You're the weakest one of us, in fact."

"My strength is here," I said, tapping my brain. "That's what made me the sergeant." She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of sergeancy, do you have those personnel dossiers? About time I finished choosing."

"Where would our mighty leader be without his trusty sidekick?" she said sarcastically. "Here. All of them wanted to join your platoon, specifically. I'm guessing they saw you during that feast."

"If you were there, you wouldn't say I was a bad fighter," I said petulantly. The one time I do so stunningly well in battle, and I couldn't impress my wives.

"If I was there, the baby would be dead. Unless the Prefect happened to have midwives on standby."

Right.
>>
>>3704669
THREE PICKS

>Trooper Bishop
His skin is covered with religious tattooes and old battle scars. A Parthian sellsword, Bishop is a soft-spoken man who prefers to spend his time reading scriptures from his ancient homeland to whoring or drinking like the rest. He also talks to his pet rat.

>Trooper Major
Trooper Major likes the finer things in life. He knows his (rice) wines, smokes the finest lho-sticks, and can get dressed for every ballrooms from Honggou to Golden Pass. AND he's not a prick! Wonders will never cease.

>Trooper Yossarion
A former child soldier first conscripted during the Ben-Schaemin Revolt, Yossarion has seen more wars than half the Company. He claims that They are out to get him, and that this predation from Them is the only reason he continues to work as a soldier. Such paranoia is not uncommon among mercenaries. He distrusts any weapon larger than his combat knives for being too difficult to hide.

>Trooper Fox
It's a fine thing to be a legionary. Good pay, lovely medical program, and high standing among the commoners of the Empire. Not to mention the fact that they're mostly garrison troops these days, only mobilising for the annual Circuit in their stationed Commanderies. Only a madman would swap a life in the legions to that of a mercenary. Fox is that madman.

>Trooper Albanos
A Celtish Eskhatan, young Albanos' ancestors fought for the Emperor on the big bad barge when he was not the Emperor. His face, open and handsome in a common way, reminds you of Sister before he became sergeant. You wonder what dreadful past he has to have gone through the initial recruitment screening. Surely not the same circumstance as Sister? It would be much too played out.

>Trooper Lee
He used to be a scholar-noble back in his home country in one of the Peninsular Kingdoms. The southern one, whatever its name is. He was visiting Reed to purchase some Confusing Books, but joined up when he heard that Prefect Tan was leading an expedition to attack Wae. Not because of the historical animosity between his people and the Waelander, surprisingly enough, but because he's fascinated with the topic of Wae gods in general and soulbinding in particular.

>Trooper Chatal
A Magal, this former Marcher has eyes like a hawk and is very good with his compound bow, mounted or on foot. He doesn't talk much, but is a devil in the gambling table. Do NOT get him drunk.
>>
>>3704687
question, any of them could pass off as a Waelander?
>>
>>3704688
>>3704687
This man gets it.
>>
>>3704688
Lee can, since he's Peninsular. Also he can speak Wae-accented Sinaean.
>>
>>3704687
Fox, Yossarion, Bishop.

Fox for a heavy hitter, Yossarion to watch for glow in the dark censore niggers, Bishop because someone needs to be wholesome in this squad of philanderers, polygamists, and murderers.

Also reminder the Ben-Schaemin control the capitol's entertainment industry.
>>
>>3704687
>Trooper Fox
>>Trooper Chatal
>>Trooper Lee

Fox because we are the only tank on the squad at thye moment
Chatal to have another bow besides Hood's
Lee will probably be the most reliable source of info on the island
>>
>>3704687
Fox, Yossarion and Lee
>>
>>3704687
Lee, Yossarion, Fox
Please Yossarion, tell us about how they're putting dark magics in the water that turn the friggin Magals Trevain-like.
>>
>>3704720
I admit that a paranoid can be very useful, especially now that people are, in fact, out to get us
>>
>>3704728
Who knows, maybe he'll develop an OS that talks to The Emperor.
>>
>>3704687
>Albanos
>Surely not the same circumstance as Sister? It would be much too played out.

he a 100% fucked his sister, didn't he? or was it a brother?
>>
>>3704768
Reminder to keep Sister away from our children
>>
>>3704687
>Trooper Fox
>Trooper Chatal
>Trooper Lee
>>
Unusually exhausted today, I'm going to have to fold the cards for tonight. There was an altercation with my sister getting sexually harassed by a kebab shop owner. I wish I was joking. Have to go do police stuff.

See you gents tomorrow.
>>
>>3704821
shit dude, good luck with that, be safe you two
>>
>>3704821
That's so stereotypical I believe it entirely. Hope she's okay, thanks for running.
>>
>>3704687
>>Trooper Fox
>>>Trooper Chatal
>>>Trooper Lee
>>
>>3704821
Tyche you know what you must do.
You must remove Kebab.
>>
>>3704821
Time to start the crusade
>>
>>3704687
Bishop, Major and Fox
>>
Looks like Chatal and Yossarion are tied for the last place, Fox and Lee are in.

>>3704824
>>3704850
Thanks, filled the police report and they said they'd give a call. I doubt anything will come of it since such things are hard to prove without, you know, beating marks and other physical signs, but I thought I might as well do our civic duty and put in a report.

>>3705144
>>3705363
Wrong side of the continent for that!

Is there anything you want to do before leaving the main fleet to boat into Wae?
>>
>>3707374
>Wrong side of the continent for that!
Christendom is inside of you brother. Therefore crusade is right in every corner of the world.
>>
>>3707374
Just roll for the last person I guess
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

Yossarion or Chatal
>>
>Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius
>Corporal Hood
>Sorcerer Dumpling
>Trooper-Scrivener Lee
>Trooper Fox
>Recruit Mulberry
>Scout Chatal

We boated out on the third day before the first gloomy outline of the island was visible. Fog was thick here, making everything look hazy as it does in an opium den. The sky was still black. Captain wanted the rangers to go ranging under the cover of the night.

Five hours from midnight. The hours just before the first crack of dawn is usually the darkest. With Wae, "usual" was not reliable. No outsider had trod in their islands for a century. They were a very private people who only sent out merchants from a specific caste to purchase iron and leather, in exchange for whale fat and silver.

I looked back. Captain watched us from the crenalted tower of the prefect's ship, a pale blue figure against the backdrop of the black wood. This was the Ranging. We were the first contacts. Many of the men in the quiet boats gliding out now wouldn't return. Nine boats spread out, heading to their assigned beaches.

Chatal stared wordlessly, fixated on where the island was supposed to be. I looked. There was only uniform darkness. He was our watcher. Hood and I were on one oar, Fox and Mulberry on the other. Dumpling huddled in a trance. She was focusing on keeping my golden eyes to be mundane black. Glamours are deceit and lies, tricking the mind. Those with bright enough souls find that they can tweak the fabric of reality enough to distort the truth, though they are ever in danger of tearing it wholly. That would be a disaster. It would also end with someone getting Husked.

That is why we didn't go around full-glamouring all the time. For every action, a risk.

Our objective - find village. I signalled. Water carries sound far and away. It was something Sister was teaching me since we were in the Forest, but I was not very good at it. None of us were.

Peasant - family? Lee questioned. He was dressed as a merchant, while I was made to look like a sailor assisting him. Mulberry was the tomboy daughter. Everyone else was to stay hidden wherever they could find, together with the boat.

>"Find village, pretend to be Wae," I whispered. Damned pre-morning chill was stiffening my fingers, making it harder to make the signs.

>Objective - Find - Village, I tried signalling again. [DC50]
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>3707434
>>
>>3707435
Please don't roll before option is locked next time, it does predispose people toward voting this way or the other depending on its success or failure
>>
>>3707437
so we keep rolling?
>>
>>3707440
Nope, I'm currently writing
>>
>>3707437
Fuck. I didn't notice there was a choice. I will delete my roll. Sorry
>>
>>3707443
No need on this occasion, I just want to make sure people feel the risk factor while picking choices. There's one that doesn't require a DC, while another may result in misinterpretation.
>>
>>3707435
>Objective - Find - Village, I tried signalling again. [DC50]
>Pass

Lee nodded, passed it along to Chatal. The only indication of acknowledgement from him was an almost imperceptible nod that could have been mistaken for the background motions of a boat on the move.

My shoulders burned. The oars churned water. Three more hours of this, if we were lucky. Captain had scheduled us to make landfall half an hour before dawn. "But that's only the plan," she had said to the assembled ranger sergeants, Sister and I among them. "Plans change. Objectives are what matter. Adapt to changing circumstances, and you may just return to us alive."

Some laughed. Others smirked. Veteran rangers, they, who had survived the Ambush by luck and woodsmen skill. I wasn't so confident. I was just a scrivener.

All the old maps drawn from the time when Alexandrians tried to invade the isles conflict with one another, even in their names. The only thing they agree on is there being four isles, with many smaller rocks scattered like breadcrumbs around them.

Lee attracted my attention by tapping my knee. I squinted. It was fething hard to tell sign languages in this dark.

>Interpreting Sign [DC60]
>3D100
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>3707446
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>3707446
shit
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>3707446
>>
>>3707449
>>3707450
>>3707451
>Pass

Land - Query - Terrain?

Types? I signed back. Lee consulted briefly with Chatal, whose hands flowed easily to form the symbols. I couldn't tell what they were in my seating by the left oar. Lee turned back to me. Forests. Shore. Watchtower.

A forested region to the left, shore directly in front. And a watchtower to the right. No village, from the sound of it. I strained my eyes to the distance to see if I could catch anything, a glimpse of the watchtower's torches or some shady patch in the dark to indicate land. Nothing.

I was instructed to go to a settlement. Usually that meant a village. Even Captain wouldn't want me to stroll into a military position willy-nilly. On the other hand, melting into forests were the other squads' assignments. The shore was empty. Chatal would have seen fishing boats, nets hung out to dry, and small shorehouses in which fishermen warmed themselves. Most obviously, we would have seen fishing boats by now.

I rested my hands for a second to squeeze the oar-holding shape from them.

>Forest. Steer. Continue.
I hoped that made sense. My sign vocabulary was not as large as Chatal's. I wanted us to continue coasting along the shoreline and see if there was something beyond the forest.

>Shore.
First, I wanted us to land. Maybe I could find an inland village further from the sea. Most Wae villages I know of were fishing ones, but that didn't mean there might not be small farming communes or even mining ones. I thought back to the crude silver the Wae merchants back in Reed bartered with.

>Watchtower.
Lee's islandish was up to par. At least, it sounded like gibberish just like Mulberry's accent to my untrained ears. They would have fire in the watchtower. Local currency. Maps. And hopefully, spare armour. The ones the guards were wearing now was probably going to be unusable after we went through them.
>>
>>3707458
>>Watchtower.
>Lee's islandish was up to par. At least, it sounded like gibberish just like Mulberry's accent to my untrained ears. They would have fire in the watchtower. Local currency. Maps. And hopefully, spare armour. The ones the guards were wearing now was probably going to be unusable after we went through them.

clean up
>>
>>3707458

>Shore.
First, I wanted us to land. Maybe I could find an inland village further from the sea. Most Wae villages I know of were fishing ones, but that didn't mean there might not be small farming communes or even mining ones. I thought back to the crude silver the Wae merchants back in Reed bartered with.

Would we be able to hide the boat? And with a watchtower here there wpuld probably some place to watch
>>
>>3707462
>watchtower here means there's something worth watching
Galaxy brain anon, and yes you can hide the boat. Would need to drag it a long way inland from the shore, it's easier to hide in Forest.

In Watchtower, you don't need to hide it at all.
>>
>>3707464
About the watchtower

Judging by it's size and what we know about garrisons, what would be a reasonable number of guards to expect?
>>
Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>3707468
>>
>>3707469
I can Change to watchtower then, it's too risky to leave that thing the way it is
>>
>>3707458
>>Watchtower.
>Lee's islandish was up to par. At least, it sounded like gibberish just like Mulberry's accent to my untrained ears. They would have fire in the watchtower. Local currency. Maps. And hopefully, spare armour. The ones the guards were wearing now was probably going to be unusable after we went through them.
>>
>>3707472
That's the minimum amount, by the way. The "reasonable" number, as it were. Now to find a watchtower art...
>>
>>3707460
>>3707474
>>3707472
>Watchtower. Lee's islandish was up to par. At least, it sounded like gibberish just like Mulberry's accent to my untrained ears. They would have fire in the watchtower. Local currency. Maps. And hopefully, spare armour. The ones the guards were wearing now was probably going to be unusable after we went through them.

The small rocks that dotted the shoreline slowed our ingress, but it was still dark when we landed. I silently thanked Captain's foresight in choosing the coldest and darkest time of the day for the insertion. Up where the watchtower stood were lights, the promise of fire and closed doors against the cold. The wind was starting to blow into the sea. Mixed with the almost-snow flurrying against my face was the faint sound of drinking songs. Alcohol and singing was a universal constant, even in Wae.

It was going to take a bit of a climb. The watchtower was not built tall. Its builders had decided to save work and material by building it up a rising hill - not quite a cliff - that oversaw the waterline.

Chatal had gone ahead after we landed. Fox and I dragged the boat upshore. I sweated despite the freezing cold. Every scrape, every creaking of timber, could be the thing to expose us. Hood was carrying Dumpling on her back, who was in a spellcasting coma. Lee and Mulberry carried the supplies. A days' worth of food. Two days' worth of water. Honey.

I didn't trust the astrologers. She was as safe here as anywhere else. Lee moved carefully to stop Honey from waking. She was wrapped up in a thick blanket. It was already covered by a thin film of snow.

Stop, Fox signalled. That was one of the easier ones to learn. Snow - Cover. I nodded. Whoever saw the boat would probably think it belonged to the watchmen up the hill.

I loosened my fingers from the boat's edge. They ached from the cold and the work. Weapons, I marked.

>Deception
Lee took point, Mulberry in hand. They looked like a fairly wealth merchant and his daughter looking for refuge from the unexpected late autumn squall to me. I hoped it looked the same to the watchmen. I quickly exchanged my warm coat for a thinner, waterproofed oilskin one that mariners used.

>Destroy.
We crept up as one, weapons bared. Mulberry stayed with Honey. She was the most important disguise of all - a "defenceless" child. It wouldn't do to scar her so early in the game.
>>
>>3707511

>Deception
Lee took point, Mulberry in hand. They looked like a fairly wealth merchant and his daughter looking for refuge from the unexpected late autumn squall to me. I hoped it looked the same to the watchmen. I quickly exchanged my warm coat for a thinner, waterproofed oilskin one that mariners used.
>>
>>3707514
This means we distract while the others fuck them up? How well can our disguise hold I wonder
>>
>>3707511
>>Deception
>Lee took point, Mulberry in hand. They looked like a fairly wealth merchant and his daughter looking for refuge from the unexpected late autumn squall to me. I hoped it looked the same to the watchmen. I quickly exchanged my warm coat for a thinner, waterproofed oilskin one that mariners used.
>>
>>3707511
>Deception
>>
>>3707514
>>3707536
>>3707546
>Lee took point, Mulberry in hand. They looked like a fairly wealth merchant and his daughter looking for refuge from the unexpected late autumn squall to me. I hoped it looked the same to the watchmen. I quickly exchanged my warm coat for a thinner, waterproofed oilskin one that mariners used.

It was a four-man watchtower, I told myself as we ambled up the steps. Less would open it to sudden attacks. Any more than that would necessitate a daily resupply. Not very practical, if the watchtower was far from a village that could support it. Four was a good, solid number. Besides, it isn't as if they were expecting an attack. Waelanders kept to themselves even in Reed. They looked pained every time they had to talk to foreigners. Four. We could handle four. Four was doable between the three of us. I missed my bloody armour.

Lee knocked, and then started talking. I tried to sort out the garbled filter Waelanders used on Sinaean. It didn't work. It is an oily language, not unlike their whale oil that their merchants sold by the bucketful. But I got the gist of it from the context and the tone of the voices. Asking to be let in from the cold, and a story about his child.

The door opened, and the watchman waved us in without looking. He barked out a command. Probably something like "Don't stand there, hurry up in!" He didn't want to let in the cold.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light of the fire, lit in the hollowed out square that acted as both an open fireplace and the cooking fire, right on the ground floor. Five watchmen were seated in various states of relaxation. The sixth who had let us in had evidently lost some sort of a game and was muttering something in his language. They didn't suspect anything from us. But they were evidently watchful. This was not the languid passivity of a guard doing his daily duty. They were lying in wait. They were in their armour, lamellared leather things. One of them had squares of iron mixed with. Their sergeant, I ventured a guess.

Four. Whatever happened to reliable, comfortable four? Something was up. More relevant to the present time, we were outnumbered. The watchman who had opened the door asked me something. Maybe he was asking if I would like some tea. Or telling me to throw away my sea-smelling oilskin. I never stopped to find out.

I slid the dagger out of my hand and jabbed it against his throat. Relinquishing the weapon to the now earthbound man, I drew my sword. The watchmen were surprised, but not enough to stay frozen long enough. They began drawing their weapons.

"Five versus three," I said cheerfully, breaking silence for the first time in what seemed like a century. "Now that is much more survivable."
>>
>>3707565
Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
Trooper-Scrivener Lee: Healthy
Recruit Mulberry: Healthy
>Combat = +88DC [Healthy +5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC, Lee +18DC, Mulberry +15DC]
>Armour Value = 5AV [Iron buckler +5AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33)

VS

Watchman Sergeant: Healthy
Watchmen x4
>Combat = 87DC [Healthy +5DC, Bloodsworn +10DCD, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Trained +2DC, Iron-lined lamellar +5DC, Chokuto +8DC, Surprised -10DC, Watchmen x4 +48DC]
>Armour Value = 5AV [Iron-lined lamellar +5AV]

Personal Combat DC63
>3d100
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>3707565
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>3707566
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>3707566
>>
pls kill me
>>
Rolled 76, 91 = 167 (2d100)

AV
>>
>>3707568
>>3707569
>>3707572
>2 Success (Mulberry, Lee)
>Enemy AV failed
>Watchman - KILLED
>Watchman - KILLED

They knew someone was coming. Not us specifically, but the Enemy. They had expected Sinaeans, who were swarthier, more loaded in shape. They met a merchant father and his daughter, plus a sailor who was showing him around instead. And they died.

Lee was the second to score a kill. He had been hiding his longsword by carrying it in plain sight - as an ormanental weapon. The hilt was an extravagantly gilded thing. Centuries of trade had turned the southern Peninsular Kingdom that he came from in being culturally homogeneous with the Empire, where ostentatious display mattered.

It was a good disguise. The watchmen hadn't commented, aside from eyeing it jealously, thinking it an ornament of a successful merchant. Jealousy turned to anger, then anger to fear as he drew the longsword from the scabbard expertly, showing that it was not, in fact, merely for show.

Mulberry was using a Company-regulation shortsword. She hid her original blade away, thinking I might do something to it to remove the soul bound to the metal, if I could get my hands on it. She was right. One of these days, I was going to find it. Her new weapon, much better balanced and suited to her smaller figure, swung - I told her to stab, but she never listened - to snick against one of the watchmen's knees, where armies usually don't bother issuing armours for. Soldiers didn't usually fight children, for one thing.

The enemy sergeant paced carefully around me. He must have thought me to be the biggest threat for some unfathomable reason. The daggering, maybe? Either way, he was seriously overestimating my capabilities. I was just a scrivener. So was Lee, come to think of it. I should have told Fox to jump in the moment the fight begun. What was Hood doing?

"You are... vermin," the sergeant said, finding a means of communication outside of the clanging of blades in Sinaean. He locked eyes furiously with me, his straight longsword trembling with... disgust? "Vermin-heretic. Die like filth you are."
>>
>>3707584

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
Trooper-Scrivener Lee: Healthy
Recruit Mulberry: Healthy
>Combat = +88DC [Healthy +5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC, Lee +18DC, Mulberry +15DC]
>Armour Value = 5AV [Iron buckler +5AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33)

VS

Watchman Sergeant: Healthy
Watchmen x2
>Combat = 63DC [Healthy +5DC, Bloodsworn +10DCD, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Trained +2DC, Iron-lined lamellar +5DC, Chokuto +8DC, Watchmen x2 +24]
>Armour Value = 5AV [Iron-lined lamellar +5AV]

Personal Combat DC75
>3d100
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>3707587
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>3707587
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>3707587
>>
Rolled 67, 62 = 129 (2d100)

>>3707588
>>3707590
>>3707591
Enemy AV
>>
>>3707588
>>3707590
>>3707591
>2 Success (Lee, Mulberry)
>Enemy AV failed
>Watchman - KILLED
>Watchman - KILLED

"So, you seek to fight me on unequal grounds." The sergeant backed into a corner. "Coward! Fight me, one versus one. Then perhaps you will find blissful nonexistence instead of an afterlife of agony, by the grace of the Heavenly Sovereign."

I exchanged glances with Lee. "What is he going on about?"

"The Wae are supposed to be a deeply spiritual people," he explained. "Everything revolves around religion, which is itself centered around their king."

"Religion!" the sole surviving watchman spat. "No, not religion. Nothing like the heresies of you... foreigners. It is the Way of Life. But what would you know of that sublime existence beyond existence? Everything you touch becomes corrupt. Pollution is your mother." His Sinaean was a little unorthodox.

"Surrender," I told him. This was what was wrong with military nuts. They got too into being a soldier, when real professionals knew when to shut up and fight or give up. "You don't have to die. We take prisoners." Wae prisoners might be useful in acting as translaters later down the road.

He barked out a laugh. "My men upstairs will already be lighting the bonfires that will alert others to your presence. I die, knowing that I shall go to the place of my ancestors. Filthy-foreigner, can you say the same?"

He turned the point of his sword away from us, and then stabbed himself. I covered Mulberry's eyes. She swatted it away.

"Don't worry about up here!" a voice came from upstairs.

"Hood?" I asked.

"The one and only. Chatal got us up with a rope while you were warming yourselves with new friends."

>"Right, Lee. Show me why I picked you and help me treat that man's wound." Getting that complicated-looking armour off him was going to be a bitch and a half.

>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."
>>
>>3707612
>>"Right, Lee. Show me why I picked you and help me treat that man's wound." Getting that complicated-looking armour off him was going to be a bitch and a half.
>>
>>3707612

>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."
>>
>>3707612
>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."
>>
>>3707612
>>"Right, Lee. Show me why I picked you and help me treat that man's wound." Getting that complicated-looking armour off him was going to be a bitch and a half.
>>
on one hand, prisoner information
on the other hand, the guy stabbed himself so I don't think he would cooperate

can any of the mages get answers magically?
>>
>>3707632
Only one mage with you, Shamaness is back with Captain. Are you sure you wish to drain Dumpling further? Currently, she is on battery saver mode.
>>
>>3707634
you make a good point, if she is preserving energy we need to keep him alive for longer so she can rest

>>"Right, Lee. Show me why I picked you and help me treat that man's wound." Getting that complicated-looking armour off him was going to be a bitch and a half.
>>
>>3707636
So heal him, wait until he recovers then wait until dumbling can interrogate him and then wait until she recovers.
>>
>>3707640
you make a good counterpoint

>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."
>>
>>3707640
IMO the entire point of this choice is he might not make it until that period.
>>
>>3707653
There's the problem of us waiting all that period too, and any surprises at the bonfire
>>
>>3707668
hehehe
>>
>>3707679
>>3707668
I say this because I heavily suspect magic fuckery and something wrong with upstairs so we should get on that quickly

And the fact that Shamaness and the babies are still on the water makes me want to not stay around or move slowly because of the wounded prisioner and wait god know how long for the information(village) that we can het from documents and maps already here

Shammy is the kind of gal that would husk herself to save the kids and I rather that not happen, specially since the Waelanders were already expecting us so speed is essential
>>
>>3707690
well I already change my vote but just to be clear

>>3707649
>>3707636

my vote is
>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."
>>
>>3707702
>>3707622
>>3707621
>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."

"Yes, your Imperial Highness."

I sighed. "I'm not royalty."

"No, of course not, sire. You are imperialty."

Peninsulars were head over heels on this sort of thing. They didn't have any Alexandrians there, not quite being part of the Empire yet - no small thanks to their northern brother - and it seemed he associated my golden eyes with being related to the Emperor. Technically, not wrong. Practically? I was part of the Black Company, same as he. I told him that. "And call me sir, or sergeant. Scrivener also works."

"Yes, sire."

Some men you just can't teach.

"Upstairs" was actually not the bonfire. This was where the watchmen slept. Three bodies lay unmoving, reddish brown stains staining deep their blankets. I whistled. "Chatal?" I asked. Hood nodded. "Guess we know why he was taking so long."

"They've got a nifty brazier thing upstairs," Hood said. "It's oiled up so it won't be quashed by the wind and snow."

"How close was it?"

Hood grimaced. "You don't want to know." There were no stairs for the uppermost layer, just a ladder. I climbed up.

My first thought was regret. It was freezing up here. Windbreakers had been set up to defend those in duty from the worst of the elements, but it was a rude awakening, coming from the cozy and warm ground floor. My second thought was relief. There were five men in duty here. Five. Counting the six below and three who were asleep, that was more than I'd been expecting for a watchtower this size. A quick look inland told me the reason. There was a settlement. And it wasn't a village. It was a city.
>>
>>3707730

Chatal saluted. "Bayatur Aurelius." His Sinaean was thickly accented, but intelligible. "Bonfire is ours." Fox was on his knees, examining the dead.

"You did this?" I asked.

The scout shrugged. "I only killed two. Your behi and the Imperial got the rest."

I stepped carefully over to the bonfire, making sure not to slip. The spilled blood was starting to freeze. I sniffed the brazier. Oil had been spilled very recently. "Whale," I decided. "Everything is about whaling with these guys, isn't it?"

"We'll sort out the inventory of the dead," Fox said. "But for now, permission to get the fuck under, sir."

"Permission granted." My teeth were chattering already, and I was all warmed up only a minute ago. Fox began gently lowering the sleeping Honeybundle down the floor, with Hood receiving. Then they did the same to the meditative Dumpling. "Aren't you coming?" I asked, two rungs down the ladder.

"No," Chatal replied. "I will take watch."

The wind was worsening, and with it, the snow. I was shivering violently at this point. But I had my pride as a man. "You need two for a watch. Do you want me to stay up?" I asked.

The taciturn Magal shook his head. "Head inside, bayatur. You will need rest for tomorrow, with the city. Rest. Sleep. Maybe fuck your behi, for more children." He smiled slightly. "We all have our ways of platoon-helping, no?" He meant no offence. In Magal culture, children are the treasures that ensures the continuation of the clan. They were also the only ones who actually preferred polygamy, in my experience. They called it a harem.

Damn officership. If I was a common trooper, I would have run inside like Fox. But I had to make a show of it. I climbed up. Every freezing cell in my body screamed at my brain. The brain reminded everyone else who was the boss by taking in the view of the world from the vantage point of the towertop.

>A Blinking Thing DC80
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3707737
[Urge to Blink Intensifies]
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>3707737
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>3707737
Shit, good thing we came up, but fucking behi was not a half bad idea Chatal
>>
Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>3707737
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>
>>3707612
>"Disarm him and stop the bleeding," I instructed Lee. "Don't worry too much if he dies. It's a crapshoot if he lives or not. I want to see this bonfire system for myself."
>>
>>3707744
A flicker, right beyond my range of vision. I turned to the point of darkness where I thought I'd seen light.

There was the flicker again. And it grew bigger. I tried to orient my head to the geography of the area. That was... the forested place, to the right, when we were boating in.

"Forest fire," I mumbled. Chatal was by my side in a moment. He exhaled sharply. "That is not forest fire. It is bonfire."

So, there was another watchtower there. It was logical. You can't have solitary bonfires. There must be a chain to support each other. My ice-rimed brain took a moment to connect the dots. I whirled to face Chatal. "There's-" the words didn't come. My tongue felt heavy with cold and shock.

"Captured," he said gravely, unblinking, staring at the fire. Other points of light appeared like terrestrial stars. "We are found." He grabbed one of the torches that protested feebly against the wind, and dumped it into the brazier.

"What are you doing?" I thought I said. What came out was more like "Wha'r do een?"

"Prevent inquiries. Other towers would have noticed our slow response time."

Oh. "O."

"Good eye, bayatur. Now rest, before you freeze to death."

>"I can't let another ranger stay there," I said. It could be Sister. Or Trevain. Oh gods, Morion. Dumpling might lose another sister.

>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught.
>>
>>3707767
To the left* not right
>>
>>3707767
>>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught.
>>
>>3707767
>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught.
>>
>>3707767
>"I can't let another ranger stay there," I said. It could be Sister. Or Trevain. Oh gods, Morion. Dumpling might lose another sister.

Always the romantic
>>
>>3707767
>>"I can't let another ranger stay there," I said. It could be Sister. Or Trevain. Oh gods, Morion. Dumpling might lose another sister.
>>
>>3707767
>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught.

Unnecessary risk. Send someone to give Homeboy up top something warm to wear that isn’t caked in blood.
>>
>>3707767
>"I can't let another ranger stay there," I said. It could be Sister. Or Trevain. Oh gods, Morion. Dumpling might lose another sister.
orders be damned
>>
Anons really going to run out into the cold hostile night, against orders, with no plan, alone

Moralfags, Everytime.
>>
>>3707767
>>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught
>>
>>3707883
Thought we’d seen the worst of it when we let Throne butcher our squad mates attempting to save one gut shot bloke.
>>
>>3707767
>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught.
>>
>>3707778
>>3707831
>>3707876
>>3707892
>>3707978
>>Rest. Sleep. Fatigue was rolling in like the Wae seaside fog. Rangers were supposed to operate independently of each other. I couldn't drop everything to rescue whoever it was that got caught.

We laid out sheets in the first floor, designated as the sleeping area. The ground floor was much too bloody to make for a restful night. I dropped onto the floor. I was vaguely aware of Hood joining me, hugging me from behind. "Chatal will need relief in an hour," I said sleepily.

"Shhh," Hood stroked my hair. "You need to learn to delegate more, you stupid man. Look at yourself. You're near death from exhaustion."

"Bonfires lit," I mumbled. "...captured." Thick as woolen blankets, sleep crushed me under its voluminous nothingness. My eyelids turned to lid. Only my brain of all my body parts feebly resisted. What if? What if? Of course all brothers of the Company mattered. But some people mattered more equally to me.

Hard fingers, calloused from years of gripping the bow, slid gently down my face. "I heard through the trapdoor. But none of us will make the trip there and be in shape to fight."

"'cept Chatal."

"He's a scout, not a stormtrooper. He can't rescue them all by himself."

I imagined Chatal, alone, running through the blizzard and scaling the watchtower. Two, definitely. Maybe three. But after that his presence would be known. Fourteen men had manned this tower. The odds were worse than bad. It was nonexistent.

There was wetness on my face. It was from my eyes. My voice tore from my lips, hoarse, the last gasping breath of a man claimed by Somnus. "I want to help."

The fingers stopped. "I know, Aurelius. But we are also part of the Company, aren't we?" Sympathetic Hood. Soft, caring Hood. People changed, truly. Aurelius became responsible. "Soldiers follow orders. Right now, you need to focus on getting rest for tomorrow. Sleep. The rest of us will figure something out."

I'm not a soldier, a tiny voice squeaked inside my skull. Her fingers locked together around my stomach. I felt her breath against my spine.

Then I slept.
>>
File: Trooper Lee.jpg (493 KB, 1711x3027)
493 KB
493 KB JPG
>>3708040
---

Something pointed entered my nose. There was a giggle. Another wooden textured thing explored the other hole. "Sergeant," I groaned. "Raindrops is being a shithead again."

"You're the sarjent now, silly A-relly," a voice said above my head. I squinted one eye open. "A-silly! Also that was a very bad word. Bad!"

"Oh, it's Honey." I sat up sleepily. "Sorry."

She considered my apology, accepted with a nod. "You owe me," she whispered into my ear. Then just as suddenly as she had entered into my waking world, she ran off.

"Are you sure she isn't yours?" Lee preening on the bed. The bodies were no longer in the room, together with the mattresses.

"What are you doing?" I said.

"Adding makeup, sire. It's a thing Waelander merchants do, if you haven't noticed."

My brain sluggishly started churning thoughts. Words. Wae... merchants. Ah, yes. They did so love making themselves as effeminate as possible. Such is the price of civilisation. "I don't need them, do I?"

"That depends." He perused me with a critical eye. "The sailor pretense won't work here. No fishing villages or ports nearby. And there's bound to be questions if I, a father of a child, goa round with another man. The locals won't stand for it. Although... you could pass for a kagema."

"Plain Sinaean, please."

"Male prostitutes, sire. Ah, that is not to say that you are, well, I mean," he stammered. I was beginning to form a suspicion. A suspicion suspiciously Trevain-shaped. "Well, it's a refined, high-culture thing in these parts. At least, according to Wae literature. Precious little of it comes out of the islands, of course, but there's much mention of them taking prestigious positions in-"

>"Why do you know these things?" Why couldn't he just stick to reading Confuse-Youse and his endless treaties on how to be a wise ruler or somesuch?

>"I think I get the picture, scrivener." Too vividly. "Let's try something less insulting to my sexuality, shall we?"

>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener.
>>
>>3708048
>"Why do you know these things? Scratch that, let's try something less insulting to my sexuality, shall we?"
Because Confuse-Youse doesn't write treaties on how to get free ass.
>>
>>3708048

>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener.

Where's Hood?
My fear of losing her made the website crash
>>
>>3708048

>"Why do you know these things?" Why couldn't he just stick to reading Confuse-Youse and his endless treaties on how to be a wise ruler or somesuch?
>>
>>3708048
>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener.
Is this one gets A-relly to dress as male prostitute?
>>
>>3708084
Uh, no, none of them are options that- you want to pretend to be a male temple prostitute?
>>
>>3708075
>>3708048

I change to


>"Why do you know these things?" Why couldn't he just stick to reading Confuse-Youse and his endless treaties on how to be a wise ruler or somesuch?

But Hood whereabouts concern remains in my mind
>>
>>3708097
On further consideration, I shall provide an adjusted option for allowing that travesty. Because Aurelius is very confident in his sexuality. But I doubt anons would go for this.

>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener. Lee began, "It really is an honourable profession-" "Just do it," I growled.
>>
>>3708075
>>3708101
>Examine Room
You are in a Room. The Room is dirty. There is Blood on the floor. A Man sits on a Bed. His name is Lee. A Man is sleeping on the floor. His name is Chatal. A Woman is sitting still on the floor. Her name is Dumpling.

>Search Hood
You do not find object: Hood.
>>
>>3708107
Find Person: Hood
>>
>>3708102
>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener. Lee began, "It really is an honourable profession-" "Just do it," I growled.
>>
>>3708102
This harem anime is getting *spicy*
>>
>>3708102
>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener. Lee began, "It really is an honourable profession-" "Just do it," I growled.
>>
>>3708060
Shall I count this as one of >>3708081 and >>3708101 ?
>>
>>3708102
>I stared with judgemental eyes at the increasingly reddening scrivener. Lee began, "It really is an honourable profession-" "Just do it," I growled.
>>
>>3708429
I can break it for you qm

>"Why do you know these things?" Why couldn't he just stick to reading Confuse-Youse and his endless treaties on how to be a wise ruler or somesuch?
>>
>>3708429
Well, it counted as not getting in male prostitute regalia
>>
>>3708440
>>3708438
>>3708081
>>3708101
>"Why do you know these things?" Why couldn't he just stick to reading Confuse-Youse and his endless treaties on how to be a wise ruler or somesuch?

"Art is art, my primary mother told me."

"Primary?"

"Peninsular, sire. We don't go for that monogamy business." Good grief. "And, if I may say so, you are a shining light in this darkened age of stuffy morality."

"Thank you, Scrivener Lee." I did not feel very complimented. "But why male model- prostitutes?"

He shrugged. "It's a thing their samurais - that is, their warrior-nobles - do. It started when they were isolated in their fortress-monasteries a little too long, their only source of fraternising between new initiates and their personal... mentors. I think you wouldn't be the first person in the history of the Company to pretend to be those within the servicing industry, if you get my drift."

Of course, there were records of such things happening. Precedents tended to accumulate when an organisation was as old as the Black Company's. A certain Lieutenant had, long ago in a continent far, far away, dressed as a paramour of the Prince of Ajiyimad and lounged in luxuries while waiting for the assassination attempt on his life. The difference was that the Lieutenant had been a she. I was a man. I am a man.

"Of course, sire," Lee said mildly. "So are the kagema."

I gave up trying to argue with the Waeboo. I asked instead, "Where are the others?" It was a more productive avenue of discussion.

"Corporal Hood left to scope out the locality."

"No mention of watchtowers?" I asked sharply. Lee looked nonplussed. "None at all, sire."

"That's... fine, I suppose." She was a big girl. She could handle herself. A corporal, to boot. "You are certain she did not mention watchtowers?"

"Why would she go to the watchtower?" Chatal sat up. He looked like a jogger who had finished a run. Tired, but refreshed. Of course he looked tired. He was up all night. Last night's event was making me attribute some rather superhuman traits on the scout. "I did not tell her."

I deflated. "Oh. Good."

"I pointed the direction to her," he continued. "But I did not speak of it."

I am surrounded by morons.

>But I knew Hood. She wouldn't jeopardise the mission by attacking the watchtower all by her lonesome. She hadn't even taken Fox. I knew that because I heard him shout "You're it!" outside the tower. At most, she would be scouting. [Go on with Mission]

>"Right, we're moving out." Fox could stand guard here for Dumpling, who couldn't be moved. "Chatal, you are with me. Lee, gather your things. Your weapon things." [Rescue Ops]
>>
>>3708487
>>"Right, we're moving out." Fox could stand guard here for Dumpling, who couldn't be moved. "Chatal, you are with me. Lee, gather your things. Your weapon things." [Rescue Ops]

fucking hell Chatal

also

>Waeboo
kek
>>
>>3708487

>But I knew Hood. She wouldn't jeopardise the mission by attacking the watchtower all by her lonesome. She hadn't even taken Fox. I knew that because I heard him shout "You're it!" outside the tower. At most, she would be scouting. [Go on with Mission]

She's fine, she's fine......oh gods I hope she's fine
>>
>>3708487

>But I knew Hood. She wouldn't jeopardise the mission by attacking the watchtower all by her lonesome. She hadn't even taken Fox. I knew that because I heard him shout "You're it!" outside the tower. At most, she would be scouting. [Go on with Mission]

Best girls here is our wife and our corporal, we have to trust her to not tonthrow her live away not that she has others that care for her, and people change, she changed, Aurelius changed, they will figure something out.

I must say tho, if she tries something, with or without the other rangers in our platoon this would be a very nice time for a short POV change that you were considering before
>>
>>3708487
>"Right, we're moving out." Fox could stand guard here for Dumpling, who couldn't be moved. "Chatal, you are with me. Lee, gather your things. Your weapon things." [Rescue Ops]
>>
>>3708487
>But I knew Hood. She wouldn't jeopardise the mission by attacking the watchtower all by her lonesome. She hadn't even taken Fox. I knew that because I heard him shout "You're it!" outside the tower. At most, she would be scouting. [Go on with Mission]
>>
>>3708690
Hood view would be awesome
>>
>>3708487
>But I knew Hood. She wouldn't jeopardise the mission by attacking the watchtower all by her lonesome. She hadn't even taken Fox. I knew that because I heard him shout "You're it!" outside the tower. At most, she would be scouting. [Go on with Mission]

If we are constantly running after our wives like they are lost children we are a shit nco and a worse husband.
>>
>>3708575
>>3708690
>>3708973
>>3708946
>But I knew Hood. She wouldn't jeopardise the mission by attacking the watchtower all by her lonesome. She hadn't even taken Fox. I knew that because I heard him shout "You're it!" outside the tower. At most, she would be scouting. [Go on with Mission]

"As planned, the three of us who can look like Waelanders will head for the city. But I still need my role."

"Bodyguard is another option," Lee suggested. My face brightened. "But we do not have local armour aside from the watchmen's, and theirs is rather distinctive." My face fell.

"An armourless bodyguard?" Chatal mused. "A man with a sword. Desperate, cheap, and hireable. You would have to swap to one of the watchmen's swords. The officer's one is in the best condition." The suicide officer had expired in the night, I learned. Couldn't be helped.

"The clothing of the kagema is most voluminous, sire," Lee said innocently. "One could hide many things in those folds. Like chainshirt. And knives. We could even pretend that buckler is a ceremonial libation-dish."

"Couldn't I be some kind of a servant?" I asked.

Lee shook his head. "Swords are a status symbol here. Only those of a higher strata will plausibly have them. And I cannot recommend the bodyguard role, sire. Ronin have such poor reputations. Merchants are technically a lower caste to the warrior-nobles, after all. It would draw... attention."

>Bodyguard (desperado) - unarmoured, wields the chokuto looted from the dead officer

>Sacral prostitute (male) - regulation chainmail underneath, knives hideable, sword carriable (sufficient status)

>"Here's an idea. You be the male prostitute."

>"I'm going in my plate," I said decidedly. "And you can't stop me."

>Custom suggestion
>>
>>3708966
I wrote up one and then realised I didn't have the necessary player choice input for the following scene after that, so I'll post it after this vote or the next
>>
>>3709098

an important question to decide the role, what are we to do while inside?

>>3709104
nice, thanks
>>
>>3709109
My question is because, I imagine people will want to talk with the male prostitute, since he is prestigious, and we can't talk waelander for shit.
while the desperado bodyguard will be promptly ignored
>>
>>3709098
>Sacral prostitute (male) - regulation chainmail underneath, knives hideable, sword carriable (sufficient status)
>>
>>3709109
Any and every scrap of information gatherable. Maps (unfortunately lacking in the watchtower) would be top priority but difficult to get since they're hand drawn at this time and things of value, both militarily and cosmetically. Rumours, to get an unreliable (but still better than nothing) idea of troop strength in the area.

Wae has been closed off for pretty much the entirety of its existence. Also the islands seem to... shift around, somewhat, so it would be nice to know which bloody island this is. Is it Yezo, Iyo-shima, Kyuukoku, or Honshu?
>>
>>3709112
I am open to other roles, can't think of any right off the bat
>>
>>3709122
Mostly because I really need to sleep. Feel free to continue discussing what kind of role you might ape, I'm going to try and sleep in the heat. I wish it was winter.

One I just thought off is Scholar. Basically, so snobbish that he refuses to speak Wae dialect, only Sinaean. Sinaeboo?
>>
>"Here's an idea. You be the male prostitute."
>>
>>3709130
No I got sothing

A mute male prostitute maybe? Is that a thing?
>>
>>3709098

>Sacral prostitute (male) - regulation chainmail underneath, knives hideable, sword carriable (sufficient status)

I find the idea kind of ridiculous but if its prestigious maybe we can get near some maps
>>
>>3709098
>Sacral prostitute (male) - regulation chainmail underneath, knives hideable, sword carriable (sufficient status)
>>
>>3709098
>>Sacral prostitute (male) - regulation chainmail underneath, knives hideable, sword carriable (sufficient status)
>>
We just walked into Lee's magical realm, we should warn him that if he tries anything Hood will quite literally kill him.
>>
>>3709098
>Bodyguard (desperado) - unarmoured, wields the chokuto looted from the dead officer
>>
>>3709151
You could choose to pretend to be mute, yes, probably someone's fetish
>>
>>3709115
>>3709231
>>3709338
>>3709606
>>Sacral prostitute (male) - regulation chainmail underneath, knives hideable, sword carriable (sufficient status)

"Wow," Mulberry breathed. "So you can be pretty cute if you try!"

"Shut up." I wasn't in the mood to be hit on by a pipsqueak. Honey sniffed. "Smells nice," she said uncertainly. "Not A-relly?"

"It's a disguise," I told her. "We're going to pretend to be... someone else."

"I'm not," Mulberry said. "I'm going to be a girl."

"You're pretending to be a good daughter."

"Well now you're asking for the impossible."

"Good thing the watchtower had a stable," Lee said brightly. "We can load some clothes, make ourselves look like light travelers. Horses are a good status symbol, too."

"And pack our armour," I muttered. This flowy robe was cumbersome. "Hey, Lee?"

"Yes, sire?"

"I'm not actually a prostitute."

"Of course, sire."

"And I'm married."

"Oh!" Lee got the hint. "Oh, no, sire. I'm strictly heterosexual. But there's just something quite exciting in seeing someone dressed in the way I've imagined those characters to be."

An elegy to my masculine pride. I grabbed my buckler - libation disk - and strapped my sword. "Let's get going, then. Half an hour's walk and we should be in the city."
>>
>>3710582

---

It was freezing here. Wherever this was. Hood carefully stepped over fallen branches, crumbling leaves. She didn't know the name of the island, but the forest was her home. Eskhatans were gifted in woodsmanship, more than anyone else. Gifted by the Emperor, when they had been His favoured people.

She relaxed her face from the unconscious snarl that formed when she thought about Him. He's dead. Even someone like that does not come back from death. Focus was required for this. Just a look, she'd promised herself. Just a look. And if it was Trevain, or Morion, or Sister...

She smelled fire, whale oils, heated iron. Blood. The watchtower was just there. She counted five men manning the brazier on top. The rest were within. And she smelled blood.

She waited amidst the leaves. Just a look. Waited.

And waited.

Horses. She felt their hooves before she heard them. Hood lowered her hood. The black served her well. The forest was more black and white with the snow. She would appear a boulder, or a blank patch of darkened soil.

Two riders appeared, riding harshly. Exhausted horses. Sinaean breed. They couldn't run far in the first place, so they must've been nearby. Or exchanged horses, she corrected herself. Not enough information to make assumptions. They could come from the ends of the earth, for all she knew.

Both riders dismounted at the foot of the watchtower. One was a young man, tall for a Waelander. The other was older. She couldn't see his face well from this distance. So she crawled closer.

The younger man knocked the door. While waiting, they conversed. She couldn't understand them. Wae dialect was almost like an entirely new language, even though it felt so close to Sinaean. Now that she was near, she could see that the younger man was better dressed. No, wrong scale. It was more that the older, stockier man was more shabbily dressed. As if he didn't care about the weather. He left his bare flesh, almost rippling with muscles, open to the winter wind. Hood shivered involuntarily. Looking at him made her feel cold.

The door opened, and they exchanged greetings with those inside. Then they entered. Hood scrambled off, knowing that it would be too dangerous to enter the tower itself. Those two men looked important. Too important to be here so soon after the Ranging began.

---
>>
>>3710605
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FESJUA0_KR8)

"Mercenary," the godly man said thoughtfully in Sinaean. He lifted the prisoner's head, examined his wounds. His hands traced years-old scars. "You are a warrior. I can see that."

Behind him, the executioner swung his sword. Something heavy fell onto the woven mat floor.

"You trained your whole life for this," he continued, unperturbed. "And you have won battles, that lesser men would have called unwinnable, yes?"

"Oh, fuck this! I don't want to die here!" a man cried. "I'll tell you everything!"

"But while you were sharpening your sword, you know how I prepared for today?" He leaned forward. "I learned."

There was a difficulty with that one. He screamed, and he moved. The blade had to be lowered a second time. The man died a coward, which is another way of saying he loved life. The godly man ignored the commotion. "I know your language. Your traditions. Your beliefs."

Another swing. Iron chipped bone.

"I know how you heretics think. Clever. Intuitive. You think your tactics, your stratagems can save you. But you do not put your mind on the higher things."

There was a blood-choked gurgle. Then that, too, fell silent.

"To the gods. That is why you will fail."

A younger man, dressed in fineries, examined the armour looted from the prisoners. It was good iron. They would be repurposed, after being purged from the heretical stench of the foreigners. Reformed in fire, in the hallowed way of the great ancestors.

"So I ask you once again, mercenary." The godly man knelt to the prisoner's eye level. "Do you surrender?"

Wenjek Venner of the Company of Rats jutted his head forward, cracking his forehead against his interrogator. The godly man staggered back. Watchmen raised their swords, but he raised a calming hand, even has he cupped his bleeding nose.

Wenchiek Venner had been thinking of a good last word. Something suitably cheeky, or maybe grand, that the enemy might appreciate it enough to give record it in their books for a literary immortality, seeing as his physical mortality was about to come to its final page. But he couldn't think of anything.

So, he grinned, blood staining his ruined teeth pink, and said: "Fuck you."

You couldn't go wrong with the classics. The executioner's sword sang.

---
>>
>>3710644

It was in fact three quarters of an hour to the city. We met a carter walking alongside his oxen-driven supply wagon on the way. He moved out of the way for his social betters. He was going to resupply the watchmen. Poor man. I have nothing against soldiers, but they make easier targets. Not that they are easier to kill, of course. But they choose to hold weapons, and turn it against us. Civilians do not have the same amount of determination, nor the privilege of even owning weapons, most of the time. He was going to get killed. Fox would see that the carter would not return home tonight.

It was a walled settlement, complete with gates and the unusual complement of two guards. There was not a lot of traffic in and out, much of it confined within itself. They probably didn't post any guards at all, under ordinary circumstances. So what we feared was true. They knew. The guards didn't comment on the merchant and his daughter, although they did ogle me. They kept a respectful distance. Only the wealthy or the nobility had the right to acquire the service of a male prostitute, who, it turns out, held some sort of religious significance as well.

Part of their chivalrous code of conduct. I'd never heard of knightly orders requiring prostitutes. I thought it was a step forward, actually. Now if only they would bugger women instead.

The inn we'd chosen was appropriate to our assumed social station. We had a three-room dwelling entirely to ourselves in the third floor. A servant came when we pulled a bell-rope that extended all the way to the ground. We paid with the money looted from the dead watchmen. Silver was silver. We would need more, sooner than later, but our stolen finances sufficed for a week of maintaining our current lifestyle, I calculated. I couldn't use my Imperial coins, for obvious reasons.

"The walls are thin," Lee said when we were settled in.

No talk? I signed. Lee nodded. Do not call it bad luck. Consider it an opportunity for practicing the language of the hand. We began debating with excruciating slowness.

>Military
There was a military garrison here. Lee might pretend to be an important person and call in. Lee explained that it was considered respectful to announce yourself to the governors when you are of a higher social station, moving between the regions. For the lower classes, traveling far was forbidden.

>Market
Desire - Market - Rumours - See/Hear Lee signed. Merchant - Cover. I acquiesced. There might be good rumours brewing in those public places. Apparently it was perfectly fine for a kagema to walk around with his, er, patron around in public places. Flaunting to make others jealous.

>Temple
Records - People - Birth - Deaths, Mulberry signaled. She was younger, and had a good head for this stuff. After some difficulty, they told me the fifth sign stood for Depository. So the temples fulfilled clerical and bureaucratic functions, just like in the Empire?
>>
>>3710702
>Temple
>>
>>3710702
>>Temple
>>
>>3710702

>Military
>>
>>3710702
>Military
>>
>>3710702
>Military


Thanks for the Hood vision, damn those guys don't take many prisioners
>>
Fuck, I finished typing out the Temple version and just reloaded the page to see Military winning
>>
>>3710927
Don't switch your votes, going to start writing Military
>>
>>3710917
>>3710921
>>3710922
Mute and deaf, that's how I felt. The Waelanders spoke something like Sinaean. Almost. But quite different, as if one had rubbed the words with the ubiquitous whale oil and set fire to it then scrubbed up the ashes to redistribute it in bizarre ways. A difference of linguistic texture, you might say, if you were the kind of person to say that gobbledygook.

Lee greeted the Governor. To be more precise, he prostrated himself in front of him. The Governor was seated on his magisterial seat which was situated outdoors, despite the cold. Lee's expensive costume dirtied as he bowed and scraped. He looked disinterested at Lee. He looked very interestedly at me.

I shifted on my feet, feeling the comfortable weight of the gladius on my side.

After a few more minutes of that public display of subservience, the Governor flapped his fan. That seemed to be the cue for Lee to scramble away. He dragged me and Mulberry by the hands. The gate to the magisterial mansion closed ominously. He turned. He almost said something, then thought better of it. We were still in hearing distance from the guards behind those doors.

"That went really well," he said firstly, when we were suitably alone. He didn't whisper because that would attract attention. Just mumbling something pleasantly to his hired spiritual... advisor. The streets were empty, most people being indoors for a midday meal. "As I have mentioned before, sire, the warrior class lords over the merchants, despite being, well, poorer. It's a nobility thing." Nobility of the sword. Nothing noble about a sword. "They also hold the political positions. Again, a nobility thing." Politics. Nothing about that, either. "Usually, the governor would try to wine and dine us to extract some concessions or gift out of the merchants. At least, that's what led to the orgy in The Daimyo's-"
>>
>>3710931

I gave him a Look.

"-anyway looks like they are mustering all the troops they have, and that is the reason he was so brusque. They didn't want non-military types wandering around inside their garrison. They're preparing for war, sire."

"Against who?" Mulberry asked.

I gave her the Look. She sighed. "Against whom?"

I beamed.

"He wasn't in the mood of talking," Lee said sadly. "I'd been hoping to experience the traditional kaiseki-ryori. Alack and alas, my culinary wants have not been satisfied."

"The inn we're in has good meals," I offered.

"Just not the same, sire." He looked up mournfully. "You won't understand. They don't have the women."

Ah. So he was a man, after all. Now to decide what to do - after lunch.

>"Shall we head to the market, then? Tongues tend to wag in places of commerce." And where men sold and bought their wares, there were bars and pubs and drinking dens to relieve tired farmers from their temporarily enriched pockets. Nothing made people more talkative than alcohol.

>"The temple seemed promising. A center of breaucracy, they might have notes and orders from their version of the Capital lying around." And I was going to fit in there, more likely than not. The male prostitutes were supposed to be something spiritual, not only carnal.
>>
>>3710932
>>"The temple seemed promising. A center of breaucracy, they might have notes and orders from their version of the Capital lying around." And I was going to fit in there, more likely than not. The male prostitutes were supposed to be something spiritual, not only carnal.
>>
>>3710932
>>"The temple seemed promising. A center of breaucracy, they might have notes and orders from their version of the Capital lying around." And I was going to fit in there, more likely than not. The male prostitutes were supposed to be something spiritual, not only carnal.

ok, so they are coming in full force
>>
>>3710932

>"The temple seemed promising. A center of breaucracy, they might have notes and orders from their version of the Capital lying around." And I was going to fit in there, more likely than not. The male prostitutes were supposed to be something spiritual, not only carnal.

Maybe a map, and the bars should be more favorable later when people are more willing to drink and talk
>>
>>3710932
>>"The temple seemed promising. A center of breaucracy, they might have notes and orders from their version of the Capital lying around." And I was going to fit in there, more likely than not. The male prostitutes were supposed to be something spiritual, not only carnal.

Oh joy an amphibious assault against a prepared force
>>
>>3710940
I'm sure the people's militia will handle it, they will be at the vanguard of course, to have the most glory and prestige in battle hehe
>>
>>3710933
>>3710934
>>3710937
>"The temple seemed promising. A center of breaucracy, they might have notes and orders from their version of the Capital lying around." And I was going to fit in there, more likely than not. The male prostitutes were supposed to be something spiritual, not only carnal.

To my surprise, the monk, who had put it on himself to escort the visiting merchant on a holiday around the temple (after a generous donation, of course), spoke Sinaean. "We are not all philistines," he said with a marked lack of humility. "All our books are in that venerable language. It is, shall I say, the sacral tongue." Then he leered at me. I unconsciously rubbed the pommel of my gladius with my thumb. It felt reassuring.

"Certainly," Lee said, who looked a bit disappointed. He'd really wanted to have a go at a full-fledged Wae-dialect tongue-wagging. "What kind of documents do you keep? The seminal works of Kitagawa Utamoro, for example?"

"Ah, I see you are a man of culture!" The monk rubbed his hand appreciatively. "We have the complete The Rascal's Soulmate in our collection, second edition. Then there's a woodcut of Tales of Moonlight and Rain."

"Have you a clean copy of The Great Mirror of Male Love, by any chance?" Lee asked hopefully.

The monk nodded. "No library would be complete without it."

"Yes, quite." Lee shuffled uncomfortably.

"All in very good condition, if I may say so myself," the monk continued. "Our temple has this revolutionary atmosphere control system by way of using the confluence of the wind from the mountains to adjust for humidity in the air." Mulberry stifled a sigh.

"Say, on The Great Mirror... I happen to have misplaced mine."

"Sir!" He acted as if someone had burned the first-edition copy of the Emperor's Commentarii de Bello Sinica.

"Yes, yes, a travesty," Lee sighed. "And I'm sure some rotten old peasant with no idea how to read is using it as firepaper by now. Would you happen to have a spare copy, by any chance?"

"Ah, sir, there you are in luck!" the monk exclaimed triumphantly. "First-rate scribes we have here. Better than the ones other temples up in the mountains have, and don't you forget it. Oh, they say they are all better, of course. More ascetic. As if eating grass and shitting in the woods makes them holier than us city monks. If you will forgive my Sinaean."

"Forgiveness already given, like the great Dai-Shutra did to the poor Monkey Warrior," Lee said benevolently. I repressed the urge to roll my eyes. "Seeing as I'm such a generous patron to the gods... do you think they might permit me to receive another...?"

The monk got the hint. "So generous, yes. I'm sure one copy would not be amiss."
>>
>>3710944

"And of course, the others too," Lee said quickly. "In fact, one of the reasons I am making a tour of the Four Islands is to compare and contrast the quality of the works put out by the different temples. I'd only planned to get one per temple, but if your scribes are up to par..." How many hearts had this man broken back in his provincial little kingdom? Of boys, maybe. He claimed to be a lover of women. I wondered.

"I'm sure the Kannushi would not mind," the monk said, sounding like he thought the kanooshi would mind. "But papers and inks and gold leafs, they all have... costs. Books, quite the expensive things, aren't they, sir?"

"No doubt! Changing the topic completely and arbitrarily, I'd only given the first greetings-offering, didn't I? It's nearly noon. I suppose I should do the Rite of Decency Before Meals." Then he jangled his somewhat lighter pouch of money.

"Oh, that would be entirely unnecessary." He paused. "But it may make the gods more amenable to your situation."

Lee half pushed the monk back to where the offering box was situated, making his coin pouch make pleasing metallic sounds all the while. He winked at me, and signed, Check Inside.

"Come on," Mulberry whispered. "They probably won't mind you rummaging about. Probably think you're the chief priest's guest's plaything."

"I'm not-!"

"Do you want to see the inside of the temple, or not?"

But what about my dignity as a man? Woe be to the indecent clergy who would grab my nether regions! I glowered at the initiates who were staring at me like a piece of meat, and not the chopped liver variant which nobody likes. They quickly lowered their heads and went back to sweeping the temple grounds. So they did think I was the consort of someone important.

Gods damn it, Captain. Why couldn't I be the father? Because you don't know the Wae dialect, a reasonable voice said in my head. I mentally glared the source of it down. Reason was the last thing I wanted right now.

>Taking advantage of my disgraceful costume and Lee's dragging away of our guide, we made our way in to the temple.

>"Absolutely not!" I hissed. "If we're going to infiltrate the temple, we're INFILTRATING the temple. Like proper sneak-thieves." It was no lark trying to climb the walls of the bloody pagoda in this get up, let me tell you.
>>
>>3710945

>Taking advantage of my disgraceful costume and Lee's dragging away of our guide, we made our way in to the temple.

Let's learn how hard can it be to be a pretty woman
>>
>>3710945
>>Taking advantage of my disgraceful costume and Lee's dragging away of our guide, we made our way in to the temple.
>>
>>3710945
>Taking advantage of my disgraceful costume and Lee's dragging away of our guide, we made our way in to the temple.
>>
>>3710945

>Taking advantage of my disgraceful costume and Lee's dragging away of our guide, we made our way in to the temple.
>>
>>3710947
>>3710948
>>3710949
>>3710955
>Taking advantage of my disgraceful costume and Lee's dragging away of our guide, we made our way in to the temple.

I find that it helps to pretend. Pretend as if you belong. Pretend you are supposed to look offended when an initiate who wasn't looking properly bumps into you, instead of running away because you know that you are entering the unhallowed halls of governance and if captured, would be killed. And killing wasn't the worst of it, knowing these Waelanders. A relatively low population of females, I decided, had made them go nuts.

Oh, it wasn't as if they kept women indoors. I'd seen women by and by. They were working in the fields, or serving drinks in the inns, or driving carts or selling wares. But there was such a dearth of them.

Mulberry acted as if she was a serving girl. She was not very good at it. I continued being the thing the name for which I'd already forgotten. No one challenged us. Evidently, I was convincing enough for two. We wandered ever upwards, firm in the belief that whatever was stored so high up must be important enough. We were rewarded when we reached the fifth level.

Beyondn unguarded and not quite fully closed door was a living quarter for someone with extravagant tastes, hastily arranged for. The furnitures were new, as were any signs of habitation. It had been a place of meditation, if the religious iconographies shunted off to the side held any indication. Now, it was the living quarters for a prestigious guest.

A messy, prestigious guest. Papers and letters and books were flung about the room carelessly. The bed was unmade. There was the distinct musk of sex. I looked at the suit of armour ceremonially mounted on a portable armour mount. So he was one of those warrior-nobles I'd heard about.

"Orders for... bundles of three hundred arrows," I read off a randomly snatched page. "Armours, spears, horse armour? Oh, phew, just leather. We won't have to deal with heavy cavalry." Watching two thousand pounds of equine muscle charging toward you is one of the fears of the infantryman.

"I'll keep a look out," Mulberry said. She didn't know her letters, which was not unusual. Most didn't.

I nodded. This was no place for a tender-hearted girl to be in. A girl, in any case. I looked in distaste at the sweaty mattress where some passionate - and not at all hygienic - activities had taken place.

Unfortunate that Lee isn't here. There was too much papers here for me to sort out, all by myself. And they were strewn about chaotically. I'd have to try and read the important ones first. I looked for the ones with titles.

>Correspondence from the Head of the Kikuchi Clan of Yezo

>Imperial Rescript - An Exhortation to All Loyal Subjects of the Heavenly Sovereign to Defy the Foreign Heretics

>Kitahotaka Monastery Meteorological Report
>>
>>3710978
>>Correspondence from the Head of the Kikuchi Clan of Yezo
>>
>>3710978

>Kitahotaka Monastery Meteorological Report

Kamikaze!
>>
Guys, we'll pribably have to risk interacting with whatever leecher is here to grab more things, the report and the correspondence seem very important
>>
>>3710978

>>Correspondence from the Head of the Kikuchi Clan of Yezo

If the weather has tactical impirtance it will probably be mentioned in the correspondence
>>
>>3710986
Whatever we don't grab now we try to infiltrate at night to see whatever we can find, it seems all the information we nees is here
>>3710987
And if the weather is to be dangerous we can see with the merchants too, they probably would be warned to not set sail
>>
>>3710978
>>Kitahotaka Monastery Meteorological Report
>>
>>3710978
>Correspondence from the Head of the Kikuchi Clan of Yezo
>>
>>3710978
>>Kitahotaka Monastery Meteorological Report
>>
>>3710978
>Imperial Rescript - An Exhortation to All Loyal Subjects of the Heavenly Sovereign to Defy the Foreign Heretics
>>
>>3710978

>Imperial Rescript - An Exhortation to All Loyal Subjects of the Heavenly Sovereign to Defy the Foreign Heretics
>>
>>3710978
>Correspondence from the Head of the Kikuchi Clan of Yezo
>>
>>3710980
>>3710987
>>3711041
>>3711206
>Correspondence from the Head of the Kikuchi Clan of Yezo

It took a bit of puzzling out. Waelanders used the Sinaean script, yes, but they had repurposed the hieroglyphic letters (which were, at the best of times, ornamental, and at the worst impossible to tell apart) to their own accentuation and bastardisation. I stuttered through the letters with a slightly foolish feeling one gets as a student in a schola, struggling through an arithmetic problem taught the day you were home sick. It went something like this:

My son,

your reports on the unreadiness of Iyo-Shima was acceptable. The Imperial Court has already sent a headsman to collect the former daimyo's head. His domain may be the smallest of the Four and the most shielded from western barbarians, but that is no excuse to be lax. The Shogun was of same mind.

I am sending you to the city of Iwari-Ginzan in Honshu to oversee the ritual, and to keep an eye on the military draft. The local magistrate was an admirer of Iyo-Shima's former daimyo and his pacifist ways. He is unlikely to buckle against the Shogun or the Kikuchi Clan, but I have ever placed importance in distrusting the dice. He may act foolishly, trusting in the wealth of his silver mines.

You will be the Imperial liaison. Your eyes are the Shogun's eyes. You do not have official command in the place, but much unofficial authority will be expected of you. Take your friend. He may restrain your excess. A marvelously zealous man, that Suenaga. If only you could learn from him.


"No how-d'ye-do's or Loves and Kisses," I mumbled. "Just headmans and dice." I got the feeling the daimyo of Yezo was not a fun man to be around. So the island we were in was Honshu, eh? And the son of the daimyo - which I assumed was something like their prefect - was here? Things were brewing, and no mistake.

Exactly what? Mobilising the military, sure, that was clear enough. But did they know what they were against?

"Uhh, chief?" Mulberry called. "Someone's coming upstairs."

"Everyone comes up and down some stairs, Mulberry."

"Yeah, but this one, he's up to third floor now, sounds like."

>"Just one minute," I whispered. I wanted to read one more letter. [DC40]

>I sat primly, pretty as you please. I had already thought up a cover. Maybe I would say I was sent here in a professional capacity. Then I would shank the man before I was molested. Then I would proceed to run the hell away.
>>
>>3711450

>I sat primly, pretty as you please. I had already thought up a cover. Maybe I would say I was sent here in a professional capacity. Then I would shank the man before I was molested. Then I would proceed to run the hell away
>>
>>3711450

>"Just one minute," I whispered. I wanted to read one more letter. [DC40]

>the ritual
Oversee the ritual, that is the Kamizaze, they have magic fuckery being prepared, we will need more info
>>
>>3711450
I'm not sure if we would be able to hide the body or incriminate the temple well enough if we went for the other choice


>"Just one minute," I whispered. I wanted to read one more letter. [DC40]
>>
>>3711450
>"Just one minute," I whispered. I wanted to read one more letter. [DC40]
>>
>>3711485
>>3711551
>>3711556
Rescript or Kitahotaka Monastery?
>>
>>3711571
>Kitahotaka Monastery
>>
>>3711571
Monastery
>>
>Intrusion of Privacy DC40
>3d100
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>3711587
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>3711587
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>3711587
>>
Welp, time for a high stakes escape from the city!
>>
>>3711589
>>3711590
>>3711593
'One more.' The eternal refrain. 'I can stop whenever I want.' 'Curiosity didn't kill THIS cat.' I could hear the footsteps now. I grabbed the monastery report with the speed of desperation.

Jiro,

blessings of the All-Mother be with you. Things are proceeding as expected here. I have just received report from the other three isles that they have finished with the preliminary


Unfortunately, not fast enough. The footsteps on the staircase was being too loud. I threw it away - the owner was not going to remember where he put it, not in this madhouse of papers - sat politely, my back to the door entrance. That was why I didn't see his face when he met Mulberry waiting on me, the very picture of an overdressed girl-in-waiting.

He said something in Wae dialect. Mulberry said something back. Apparently that confused him. Mulberry said something quickly. I smelled blood and sweat. The latter was from me. The former was definitely from the man. He finally stepped into the room and sat across me. The way he moved reminded me of a big cat. All muscle tension, stalking, prowling. Sniffing for anything suspicious. He sat opposite me in what I could only assume was a polite form.

"I am a retainer of the young master," he began in Sinaean. I was beginning to get the feeling anyone who was anyone spoke Sinaean, as a sort of language of the court. That or they were doing it for my benefit, seeing as I was a member of the temples. Somehow. "The servant girl tells me that a kagema was sent here." He was a swarthy man, who looked like he killed very big fishes for a living. The arms were those of a sailor. "But I do not remember my friend taking in male... consorts."

>When in doubt, sword.

>"I would have you mind your tongue. I am not merely a pretty face and a-" (Oh Lee, I am going to strangle you, I thought in a brief flash) "-luscious ass. I was ordered here to advise restraint to the young master." [Threatening]

>I merrily ran away.

>"A retainer? You are too humble, Master Suenaga. The daimyo had nothing but praise for you back in Yezo." [Charming]
>>
>>3711637
>>"A retainer? You are too humble, Master Suenaga. The daimyo had nothing but praise for you back in Yezo." [Charming]

we need to finish reading that thing

that is the ritual
whatever it takes, even if we have to kill the fucker
>>
>>3711637
>"A retainer? You are too humble, Master Suenaga. The daimyo had nothing but praise for you back in Yezo." [Charming]

We can charm a Magal shamaness and someone who actively tries to kill us, we can do this
>>
>>3711637
>>"A retainer? You are too humble, Master Suenaga. The daimyo had nothing but praise for you back in Yezo." [Charming]
>>
>>3711647
>>3711672
>>3711681
>>"A retainer? You are too humble, Master Suenaga. The daimyo had nothing but praise for you back in Yezo." [Charming]
>Correct Response

The man looked uncomfortable. "He is too kind. I only do my duty."

"But those are the greatest of men," I purred. An Aurelius in my head shouted and stamped and raged at the deception. Another Aurelius that cared about what my sainted aunt would have thought, fainted straight away. But the liar in me - the swindler, the Aurelius that got me through thin and thinner during lean vagrant times, woke up. "It is difficult to find reliable men in these times, when every samurai is a ronin at heart." A touch of Wae dialect, just to make myself sound that much authentic.

"That is true," he replied gravely. "I must apologise. I thought that perhaps you had been sent to spy on the young master. He is," he looked around the room, "indiscreet."

"I imagine that is why my master sent me. The Rite must commence without interruption, All-Mother willing."

Recognition. "You are from Mount Kitahotaka?" And I knew I had him.

People like to see what they think. Preconceptions are, as far as all of us concerned, conceptions. That is why the beginning was the hard part. The song and dance to disorient and confuse, make them unsure, put them off the trail of lies. Now he had me all figured out. He'd found a convenient Aurelius-shaped hole to plug me in.

I nodded gracefully, not deigning to even answer the question. "Things are going as planned back there. Master Jiro will be pleased to know that-"

"There is no need to tell me," he said, stopping me. "I am only a humble retainer. Such things are only meant for my lord's ears." He touched his forehead to the ground lowly, bowing thrice (custom? I hoped it was a custom. And I definitely hoped there was no counter-bowing required.) and said, "Forgive the young master for not being present himself. I shall seek him out immediately."

"There is no need for that," I said gently. "It appears his dwelling place is in disorder. I shall take it upon myself to organise his place. For is it not said by the poets that a man's room is the picture of his mind?"

"Despite being a wakashu, you are gifted with penetrating insight," he answered. "But there is no need to sully your hands with such housework. I will have the young master come and personally apologise for this horrendous mistreatment." He hesitated. "Will you be traveling with us tomorrow, for the Rite? I could send a monk for another mattress in the room."

Uh. This was more than I'd bargained for. Mulberry inhaled sharply.

>"That is why I am here." At least, I wanted to get to read the rest of the bloody letter.

>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.
>>
>>3711744
>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.
>>
>>3711744

>"That is why I am here." At least, I wanted to get to read the rest of the bloody letter.

We NEED to know where the rite is to disrupt it guys
>>
>>3711744

>"That is why I am here." At least, I wanted to get to read the rest of the bloody letter.
>>
>>3711744

>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.
But il come with you on the way there
>>
>>3711744

>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.

Can we attempt to infiltrate the place at night?
>>
>>3711794
>>3711817
We can just get up in time to go with them to the place, we dont need to sleep with them to do that
>>
>>3711895
I'd prefer not to go with them but follow with the platoon and whatever other rangers we can gather
>>
>>3711891
Sure, you could try arranging it. It's a government building so it will be guarded, though. Are you thinking of a bloodless run, or maximum carnage? Somewhere in between? How far in between?

I'll be on the train from dawn to evening tomorrow so I likely won't be able to make updates. Just a PSA!
>>
>>3711920
Yeah, it was one of our first options, I think we can try bloodless until we can but do not shy away from blood since they know that the foreigners are around
>>
>>3711920
I would say bloodless if that ends up hapening.
>>
>>3711779
>>3711872
>>3711891
>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.

I made excuses, of waiting engagements. Promises of later meetings. The retainer nodded. His place was too low to insist I stay. Reading the rest of the letter could come later. He saw us down to the fourth floor, and then returned up. Presumably to grab whatever it was he was sent for.

"That went surprisingly well," Mulberry said as we reached the ground floor.

>"A product of my masculine wiles," I said. I was an Alexandrian in another lifetime. Deception came to me like second nature. "Let's find Lee and get out of here."

>I didn't answer her. Something wasn't right. He'd let his guard down much too rapidly after the most basic of conversational deflection, spiced with information that could be gleaned from rogue letters within that very room. [Paranoia]
>>
>>3714445
>>I didn't answer her. Something wasn't right. He'd let his guard down much too rapidly after the most basic of conversational deflection, spiced with information that could be gleaned from rogue letters within that very room. [Paranoia]
>>
>>3714445

>"A product of my masculine wiles," I said. I was an Alexandrian in another lifetime. Deception came to me like second nature. "Let's find Lee and get out of here."
I don't think he was playing us, he could not have predicted we were there at this exact time, but we still need to look at that letter
>>
>>3714445

>"A product of my masculine wiles," I said. I was an Alexandrian in another lifetime. Deception came to me like second nature. "Let's find Lee and get out of here."
>>
>>3714445
>>I didn't answer her. Something wasn't right. He'd let his guard down much too rapidly after the most basic of conversational deflection, spiced with information that could be gleaned from rogue letters within that very room. [Paranoia]
>>
whatever we do we have to send a message to the fleet, they are planning a ritual for tomorrow that specifically says is for protection of the islands, they referred as this island as being the most protected and that the other 3 were already ready, so if the prefect wants to come he should come right the fuck now
>>
>>3714497
I mean, even if the prefect doesn't takes us seriously, maybe captain will
>>
>>3714503
We probs going to have to go to thr site and disrupt it
>>
>>3714513
of course, but I'd like to let cap know so she can prepare, maybe take our people out of the water and hide them somewhere, the forest maybe
>>
The paranoia option means we will stick around to investigate more? Maybe split from Lee and send him to the merchants to gather rumors?
>>
>>3714497
5 hours to sail back to the fleet by the way, they're waiting for scout reports for good landing positions. So let's say you leave now right to the watchtower, which is 45 minutes, then to prep for boating, which, I being generous, let's say an hour. Then you have add the five. Account for having to mobilise the ships without proper landing areas (beach not windbreaky enough for the fleet) and we have a rather bleak picture.

Of course, there is the option to persuade calling off the invasion. No loss of life, only the loss of Prefect's face. Everyone is happy.
>>
>>3714528
Paranoia means you are unlikely to go back, suspecting a trap. At least, in a public manner. That rules out going along with them for the ritual as if you belong there. It also opens the narrative to a different direction, though not necessarily changing NPC motivations (ie, Suenaga isn't going to flip flop just because you pick or don't pick Paranoia, I have... ideas for him)
>>
>>3714534
well, we should send only one back then, while the rest of us stop the ritual, we have to at least let the captain know

>>3714540
I change to
>"A product of my masculine wiles," I said. I was an Alexandrian in another lifetime. Deception came to me like second nature. "Let's find Lee and get out of here."

I don't know if we will be able to follow them without going along, but the rest of the rangers, and whoever else we can find should come with us
>>
If the options are clear then I'm doing a shite job writing them, usually the directions are clear in my head but that's because I'm the one writing the damned thing. Just came back from that day-long train-swapping and I'm dead tired. Should I simply take the evening off instead of posting sub-par updates?
>>
>>3714547
I think you are doimg fine, its just that I'm paranoid myself and I'm afraid of screwing this up, I wasn't even expecting updates today due to your trip, I will gladly plat and read what you write because I think it's awesome, but if you are tired I bet us anons can wait until tomorrow, your call chief, I'm here for the ride
>>
>>3714560
Hmm. I think I'll at least edit the options, so the outcomes are clearer. Thanks for questioning right off the bat so I could spot the mistake, it's often hard for the writer to get into the headspace of the reader.

Sorry for redoing, please wait warmly for a revised update to

>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.
>>
>>3714547
Take some time Tyche, come back when you’ve rested up.
>>
>>3714577
If you need sleep, go get it
>>
>"I have already prepared separate lodging before arriving in the temple." I couldn't take too long here. There was a limit to how much Lee could distract the other monk.

Very few plans survive the moment of first contact with the Enemy. The adept liar must not be so attached to his assumed identity in the moment of the scam that he becomes unwilling to burn it for the sake of securing an egress.

He was suspicious, and he didn't show it. I would have clapped him on the back for that if he wasn't an enemy and looked strong enough to wrestle a tiger-shark. It is true that all I've said so far was copy pasted from the letter and a bit that I'd read. A competent spy with better reading skills than I would have managed to digest far more content. And he didn't know how long I'd been in the room.

I have lived among Alexandrians for a good part of what some would call an unnaturally long life, and I knew suspicion. There are ways to tip off your mistrust other than body language. This Suenaga merely adopted the suspicious nature of a wary man. I was born in it. The dual intent behined his words were not missed. I will have the young master come and personally apologise.

Or in other words, stay here so I can bring my young master and confirm your identity.

What had saved me so far was that he also did not know what the letters told. Too conscientious a retainer for that. My mind whirred. Heavily religious, to boot. The smell of blood, maybe it came from coming back from a sacrifice? I'd seen the ritual vessels and daggers in the temple downstairs. Animal sacrifice was still popular in Wae, it seemed.

He did not think me a foreigner. Not yet. The crude girl servant who didn't know the proper bowing and the strange kagema who only spoke in Sinaean - those were possible. Eccentrics. But there were factions and parties and convents, even here, in what seemed like unified Wae. The Imperial Court has already sent a headsman to collect the former daimyo's head.

So he thought me an agent of the pacifist, at worst. And I did not have enough information to dispell such a notion. Or didn't I?
>>
>>3716617

>I made a gamble. "You have seen through my disguise," I sighed. "Indeed, I am no kagema, but an assassin. The magistrate of this city is a closeted pacifist, and the Shogun wished for an insurance." And what better disguise than the male temple prostitute, who had the social status to be able to wield swords! It was just so very convenient.

>Honesty is the most important ingredient to any lie. "In truth, I have come with another who has been patronising my services. It was thanks to him that I managed to arrive here so quickly, under discreet circumstances. We arrived only today, and I am eager to return to him to rest from the travel." Let him make enquiries, and he will find from the magistrate's office that a well-to-do merchant had indeed made his traditional announcement of enrance, bowing and scraping and all the good stuff that the Waelanders love. And the magistrate and his guards would remember me. They ogled hard enough.
>>
>>3716618
>>I made a gamble. "You have seen through my disguise," I sighed. "Indeed, I am no kagema, but an assassin. The magistrate of this city is a closeted pacifist, and the Shogun wished for an insurance." And what better disguise than the male temple prostitute, who had the social status to be able to wield swords! It was just so very convenient.
>>
>>3716618
>>I made a gamble. "You have seen through my disguise," I sighed. "Indeed, I am no kagema, but an assassin. The magistrate of this city is a closeted pacifist, and the Shogun wished for an insurance." And what better disguise than the male temple prostitute, who had the social status to be able to wield swords! It was just so very convenient.
>>
>>3716618
>>Honesty is the most important ingredient to any lie. "In truth, I have come with another who has been patronising my services. It was thanks to him that I managed to arrive here so quickly, under discreet circumstances. We arrived only today, and I am eager to return to him to rest from the travel." Let him make enquiries, and he will find from the magistrate's office that a well-to-do merchant had indeed made his traditional announcement of enrance, bowing and scraping and all the good stuff that the Waelanders love. And the magistrate and his guards would remember me. They ogled hard enough.
>>
>>3716618
>>Honesty is the most important ingredient to any lie. "In truth, I have come with another who has been patronising my services. It was thanks to him that I managed to arrive here so quickly, under discreet circumstances. We arrived only today, and I am eager to return to him to rest from the travel." Let him make enquiries, and he will find from the magistrate's office that a well-to-do merchant had indeed made his traditional announcement of enrance, bowing and scraping and all the good stuff that the Waelanders love. And the magistrate and his guards would remember me. They ogled hard enough.
>>
>>3716618
>Honesty is the most important ingredient to any lie. "In truth, I have come with another who has been patronising my services. It was thanks to him that I managed to arrive here so quickly, under discreet circumstances. We arrived only today, and I am eager to return to him to rest from the travel." Let him make enquiries, and he will find from the magistrate's office that a well-to-do merchant had indeed made his traditional announcement of enrance, bowing and scraping and all the good stuff that the Waelanders love. And the magistrate and his guards would remember me. They ogled hard enough.
>>
>>3716617

>Honesty is the most important ingredient to any lie. "In truth, I have come with another who has been patronising my services. It was thanks to him that I managed to arrive here so quickly, under discreet circumstances. We arrived only today, and I am eager to return to him to rest from the travel." Let him make enquiries, and he will find from the magistrate's office that a well-to-do merchant had indeed made his traditional announcement of enrance, bowing and scraping and all the good stuff that the Waelanders love. And the magistrate and his guards would remember me. They ogled hard enough.
>>
>>3716780
>>3716764
>>3716729
>>3716717
>Correct Response
>Honesty is the most important ingredient to any lie. "In truth, I have come with another who has been patronising my services. It was thanks to him that I managed to arrive here so quickly, under discreet circumstances. We arrived only today, and I am eager to return to him to rest from the travel." Let him make enquiries, and he will find from the magistrate's office that a well-to-do merchant had indeed made his traditional announcement of enrance, bowing and scraping and all the good stuff that the Waelanders love. And the magistrate and his guards would remember me. They ogled hard enough.

He had the decency to blush. A hard man, a religious man - and a strangely moral one, as well. He didn't like to hear of the private dalliances of the flesh, as most religions claim to, but secretly indulge. Lecherous monks, Lee had explained, were a source of satire for these mysterious authors of literature erotic (and educational, he continued to insist), a ripe target for lewd drawnings and tableaus of the scandalous kind.

But this Suenaga was not a religious man. He was a man of religion. A zealot, who fervently believed in what he believed, so much so that he would easily ignore and overlook the faults of his betters, instead of falling to the cold cynicism of the rational who might say, with fingers pointed at the priestly debaucheries, "Look upon those alleged superiors, those who have been in touch with god!"

In a word, he was just the kind of person that might make a good agent of the church fathers. An inquisitive mind turned outward, but blind within. Beware the decent man, for his mind is capable of all kinds of atrocities, all reasoned within himself to be for the Greater Good.

"May your sacred acts sate the spiritual needs of the attended," he said with a gravity that would have been more appropriate describing a hierophantic ritual, instead of the sordid activity that kagema supposedly did do. "It is unfortunate that men must take solace in sin. It is fortunate that men of the gods as yourself act as intermediaries to help them reach purification."

I smiled and nodded. Inside, I was thinking: These guys are fucking insane.

With Mulberry in tow, I left as quickly as manners allowed.
>>
>>3716790
---

"So something is going on tomorrow, a ritual of sorts?" Lee asked grumpily. All of his mind had been on the newly acquired books, so I had Mulberry lock them away. Now only half of it was. "You should have checked the letter from the monastery first." I noted the lack of 'sire'. Progress.

"Something sent from the head of a clan sounded more important. And now we know that there's a political rift between Waelanders."

"A rift that seems to have been recently knit together. With a beheading."

"Maybe you should have let me lure the monk away and gone up there yourself to read those documents," I snapped irritably. I thought about what might happen for a second. "Or maybe not. But we have to make do with what we have."

"We could sneak in and peek at the letter," Mulberry commented. She was playing fold-the-colourful-paper and making fanciful tigers. At least, she called them tigers. It looked like paper to me. "I can't read, but both you and Lee can, right? Two people at once. That will triple the amount of read letters."

I wasn't that bad at reading Wae dialect.

>"The Ritual, whatever it is, happens tomorrow. I need all of us in good shape to watch it." I couldn't risk anyone getting wounded tonight. And any mistake might heighten the security around the magical macguffin, if there was one. I sent Lee sent off to "secure his acquisitions" back in the watchtower and inform the rest of the platoon of what we learned.

>I agreed. There were just too many unknowns. It would have to be just the three of us to minimise risk of exposure, but that also meant we couldn't send anyone back and forth and tire them out before the stealth operation. "We're going in tonight, soon as it becomes dark."
>>
>>3716792
>I agreed. There were just too many unknowns. It would have to be just the three of us to minimise risk of exposure, but that also meant we couldn't send anyone back and forth and tire them out before the stealth operation. "We're going in tonight, soon as it becomes dark."

Information is victory
>>
>>3716790

>I agreed. There were just too many unknowns. It would have to be just the three of us to minimise risk of exposure, but that also meant we couldn't send anyone back and forth and tire them out before the stealth operation. "We're going in tonight, soon as it becomes dark."
>>
>>3716792
>"The Ritual, whatever it is, happens tomorrow. I need all of us in good shape to watch it." I couldn't risk anyone getting wounded tonight. And any mistake might heighten the security around the magical macguffin, if there was one. I sent Lee sent off to "secure his acquisitions" back in the watchtower and inform the rest of the platoon of what we learned.
>>
>>3716792
>>"The Ritual, whatever it is, happens tomorrow. I need all of us in good shape to watch it." I couldn't risk anyone getting wounded tonight. And any mistake might heighten the security around the magical macguffin, if there was one. I sent Lee sent off to "secure his acquisitions" back in the watchtower and inform the rest of the platoon of what we learned.
>>
>>3716792

>I agreed. There were just too many unknowns. It would have to be just the three of us to minimise risk of exposure, but that also meant we couldn't send anyone back and forth and tire them out before the stealth operation. "We're going in tonight, soon as it becomes dark."
>>
>>3716792
>>"The Ritual, whatever it is, happens tomorrow. I need all of us in good shape to watch it." I couldn't risk anyone getting wounded tonight. And any mistake might heighten the security around the magical macguffin, if there was one. I sent Lee sent off to "secure his acquisitions" back in the watchtower and inform the rest of the platoon of what we learned.

Tell Hood to get our kids out of the water, whatever that ritual is we will stop it tomorrow
>>
>>3716792
>"The Ritual, whatever it is, happens tomorrow. I need all of us in good shape to watch it." I couldn't risk anyone getting wounded tonight. And any mistake might heighten the security around the magical macguffin, if there was one. I sent Lee sent off to "secure his acquisitions" back in the watchtower and inform the rest of the platoon of what we learned.
>>
>>3717139
Right, that's the tiebreaker I've been waiting for, writing
>>
>>3717139
>>3716864
>>3716822
>>3716809
>"The Ritual, whatever it is, happens tomorrow. I need all of us in good shape to watch it." I couldn't risk anyone getting wounded tonight. And any mistake might heighten the security around the magical macguffin, if there was one. I sent Lee sent off to "secure his acquisitions" back in the watchtower and inform the rest of the platoon of what we learned.

The rest of the platoon did not have the kind of dashing looks that I and Lee had that could naturally camoflage among the Waelandish populace, so we had to skip out of the inn in the night, the bills paid in full due to Lee's conscience. It was truly inconvenient, having to lug around these bunch. Drove away all the women, for one thing.

"Would you like to be castrated?" Hood asked. "I can do it too, you know. I have knives on me."

"Present company excluded," I replied hastily. Where on earth was she hiding the knives? We were in the middle of an officer discussion, which involved being scantily clad and exercising various parts of your body in concerted effort that is rarely used in such a manner except during... very certain events in life.

And lo! The mods of /qst/ said: There shall be no descriptions of the Action of Life from which all manner of cheerful children spring forth, such as Honey, for to do that would offend the eyes of the Advertisers.

It had been a long time. Gods, I missed it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to initiate That Thing when the significant other (well, one of them) is pregnant and seasick? We were married, anyway. I like to think there's something sacred in it. Call it a reaffirmation of love. And nothing spiced up marital life like imminent death called Suicide Attack on Enemy Magical Ritual Thingamajig.

"You're so fucking hot," Hood whispered into my ear which set off all sorts of tingling feelings, "when you look so... maidenlike." In our haste for a get-together, I'd neglected to wash the goddamn facepaint off.

>"Enjoy it while you can, because I am never doing this again." Ever.

>"...you really think so?" She really thought so? Well! I mean, of course, I had my pride as a man, but...
>>
>>3717164
>"Enjoy it while you can, because I am never doing this again." Ever.

Odds on she's screwing with us.
>>
>>3717164
>>"Enjoy it while you can, because I am never doing this again." Ever.
>>
>>3717164

>"Enjoy it while you can, because I am never doing this again." Ever.

It's a trap, she often said things about men needing to be real men!
>>
>>3717183
But you know, falling for the trap might be fun too!
i change
>"...you really think so?" She really thought so? Well! I mean, of course, I had my pride as a man, but...
>>
>>3717174
>>3717175
>>3717183
>"Enjoy it while you can, because I am never doing this again." Ever.

We entered a stretch in our Paperwork that required furious fiddling of quill upon paper, with plenty of ink. Officer's business, like I said. That's why I, the sergeant, was alone with the corporal. The others were downstairs or outside. And I was definitely in.

"Makes you look like a delicious prey," she said, biting my ear, and not in a hurtful way. Sort of a nibble, more like. "I just want to eat you up."

Venus Above, I loved her. But even for my favourite wife, I would not dress as a male prostitute. I told her exactly what I thought about her roleplaying fetish, until she did that thing which made my tongue loosen up into water.

And then there was a knock, the bane of fruition of love everywhere. It is almost criminal how cliched it is. We froze. I swore. I thought Chatal had more sense than that seeing as he was the one who suggested I do it in the first place-

"A-relly? Are you okay inside there?"

I thought quickly.

>"Just taking care of paperwork, Honey, we'll come out soon," [LIE]

>"Remember what I told you about the birds and the bees, Honey?" [not LIE]
>>
>>3717189
Oh, oops
>>
>>3717195

>"Remember what I told you about the birds and the bees, Honey?" [not LIE]
>>
>>3717195
>>"Remember what I told you about the birds and the bees, Honey?" [not LIE]
>>
>>3717195
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-F4gG7rXw1s
I have nothing else to say.
>>
>>3717164

>"...you really think so?" She really thought so? Well! I mean, of course, I had my pride as a man, but...

Only on special occasions, and only if she agrees to do that thing that she does on demand!

Negotiation
>>
>>3717195

>"Remember what I told you about the birds and the bees, Honey?" [not LIE]
>>
>>3717198
No problem, we will find a way to reward her later

Damn, we still have to find that life prolonging sacrifice to make
>>
>>3717233
If only there was a large scale Ritual going on somewhere that would be using a shit ton of magic and you knew the details
>>
>>3717246
If only, we are still disrupting it tho aren't we?
>>
>>3717246
Let's hope Dumps can figure something out, or we will have to find yet another way somewhere else
>>
>>3717212
>>3717215
>>3717224
>"Remember what I told you about the birds and the bees, Honey?" [not LIE]

There was a little pause behind the little door where a little mind was busily clicking and whirring into place, after which, it said: "You said birds are good eating and bees are a "bloody nuisance that need to get out of my boots"."

"I did say that, didn't I," I said ruefully, avoiding Hood's accusing eyes. I really didn't want to be the one to tell her the wondrous facts of life when our babies were coming along. It was almost unavoidable. What can I say? Honey was a curious girl. She took after her father.

Hood hugged me in a surprising display of tenderness for a moment of passionate paperworkmaking. "So you are calling yourself her father now?" she said, her lips twisting with amusement. "About fucking time."

"What did we say about the F word while Honey can hear us?" I reprimanded.

"About Insert Act of Reproduction Here, sergeant."

This woman will be the death of me.

With a herculean effort of Will, I turned my attention back to the door. "It's complicated, Honey, I'll...ohh, tell you later." And with those words, I signed my doom. The moment every parent dreads - well, one of them - is giving the Talk. Why couldn't one of the moms do it?

"She trusts you most out of all of us," Hood said as we lay together in rest with uncharacteristic patience. Shamaness was rubbing off her. They did spend a lot of time together lately, especially after the pregnancies. I muzzled her. It's curious how much we revert to animals in our time of relaxation.

"I don't trust myself to do it."

"Nevertheless." Nevertheless. Can't argue with a nevertheless. There is no essence of an argument to counter in a nevertheless. "Don't look so grumpy. You're spoiling the mood. You didn't trust yourself to save the world from angry Magals."

"That was luck."

"And then you saved what remained of the Black Company in the Forest. Again."

"Ah-h, but I wasn't the one who did it, not really. There was this giant wolf."

"Sister didn't remember a giant wolf. He said that you were very good at night time hunting." Damned magic. But that confirmed that the wolf was not your average wolf. That thing had sorcery. "You should be the one to tell her."

"Not tonight," I said.

"Of course not tonight. She's still young. There's time."

I wasn't certain. Every tomorrows brought their own share of problems, and Tomorrow would be especially rocky. I didn't even know where the ritual site was, so we would have to shadow them from the temple, start to finish, which increased the chance of discovery. Unless...
>>
>>3717310

>Unless I did something very heroic. Which is narrative-speak for Bloody Stupid Activities.

>No. I was definitely not going to slink out of the watchtower in the middle of the night and try to steal a read of the letter by myself, not after I told everyone to take a good rest. I was especially not wriggling out of Hood's warm and soft and all kinds of wonderful (and muscle-y) embrace. What I was going to do was stay in bed and bask in the sleepy afterglow of sex.
>>
>>3717310

>Unless I did something very heroic. Which is narrative-speak for Bloody Stupid Activities.

Like it's cousing the nevertheless, there is no argument to counter an unless
>>
>>3717316

>Unless I did something very heroic. Which is narrative-speak for Bloody Stupid Activities.

It's our third chance, we better take it
>>
>>3717316
>>Unless I did something very heroic. Which is narrative-speak for Bloody Stupid Activities.
>>
>>3717316
Protest vote here bois

>No. I was definitely not going to slink out of the watchtower in the middle of the night and try to steal a read of the letter by myself, not after I told everyone to take a good rest. I was especially not wriggling out of Hood's warm and soft and all kinds of wonderful (and muscle-y) embrace. What I was going to do was stay in bed and bask in the sleepy afterglow of sex.
>>
>>3717325
>>3717328
>>3717332
>Unless I did something very heroic. Which is narrative-speak for Bloody Stupid Activities.

For I am an undying romantic.

The moon rose. Probably. Snow was going strong outside, and that was obscuring any celestial light. Winter in Wae can be rather fierce. I was thankful that I'd not had the occasion to meet one in Baatur.

I quietly slid out of Hood's arms. They resisted unlinking. I managed to pry her fingers away, and was wearing my boots, when I realised I should wear my clothes first before wearing the boots.

"Aurelius," Hood whispered. And I knew that she knew. "Are you going?"

"Yes."

"It will be dangerous. I will go with you."

"No." I turned around to look at her. Dangerous Hood, lovely Hood. Drained Hood. Maternity had taken something from her. Nutrients from the bone marrow, to be exact, but more than that, there were long term health issues to a new mother. She wasn't at her best, and wouldn't be for some time. "Stay in bed. Rest for tomorrow. I'll only be a while."

"But-"

"Remember when you went off alone to look at the watchtower?" I asked. She nodded. I found my hands going to her, caressing her face. It was a hard face, long used to outdoors and hatred. Now this face worried out of love. People are marvelous. They change in such strange and exciting ways.

"I trusted you then," I continued. "It's my turn to ask you to trust me."

She sighed. Her bosom heaved. I tried not to look where masculine eyes are wont to wander. "I trust you."

Three simple words, but they were words that made my heart skip, and make me feel as though I really could do this. I couldn't. But what is important that I felt as though I could. "Thanks." I kissed her goodnight in a way I would never do Honey, and put on my boots.

And then I remembered I should put on my leggings first.

>I put on my Parthian plates, as quietly as I could. Which wasn't very quiet. But the added protection could be helpful in a pinch.

>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.
>>
>>3717412

>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.
>>
>>3717412

>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.

And the buckler too

We won't be able to sneak in a plate, much less run the hell away when they discover us
>>
>>3717412

>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.
>>
>>3717412
>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.
>>
>>3717412
>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.
Remember Aurelius, this is a sneaking operation.
>>
>>3717744
Soo the whole city is going to be looking for us by thr end of the night
>>
Fucked up formatting, hold your votes
>>
>>3717458
>>3717527
>>3717563
>>3717578
>>3717744
>I went without any metal on me save the weapons. This was a stealth mission. And also a suicidal mission.

"Going for a stroll," I told Fox, whose turn it was to take watch. He nodded. "Vale, Aureli. Do not tarry long. The wind screams for souls of travelers tonight."

That it was. I'd been on the road for near eleven years before joining the Black Company, and weather like this would have gotten me killed. I picked up something from the watchmen's outdoor clothing pile. It wasn't very warm, but it blocked the wind. I stepped out carefully and quickly so as to stop the cold from getting in.

"Bayatur."

I jumped. "Nine Hells," I swore, "what are you doing outside? It's freezing!"

His eyes shone black-bright against the backdrop of moonlight-diffused snow. "I waited. You will need a guide through this blizzard, yes?" He cocked his head right to a noticeable degree, which I'd learned was Magal custom for indicating amusement. "You spent much time pleasuring your behi. I believed the sun would rise fore you came out."

It is a good sign when the Magal riders are filled with mirth. Their only other emotion is fury.

I relaxed, rubbing my head sheepishly. "Was I that obvious?"

"Those with eyes, let them see. Those with ears... well, I tried not to hear."

>"I can do this alone, Chatal. And the platoon will have need of your... snowy survival expertise, if it turns out that I can't."

>"Well, if you're volunteering." I'd never seen the man in close quarters combat, only his compound bow. He wasn't bringing that now. Sheathed on his back were twin scimitars, swords that are curved like the horizon of plains of Baatur.
>>
>>3720331

>"Well, if you're volunteering." I'd never seen the man in close quarters combat, only his compound bow. He wasn't bringing that now. Sheathed on his back were twin scimitars, swords that are curved like the horizon of plains of Baatur.
He sounds like a neaky dude
>>
>>3720331

>"Well, if you're volunteering." I'd never seen the man in close quarters combat, only his compound bow. He wasn't bringing that now. Sheathed on his back were twin scimitars, swords that are curved like the horizon of plains of Baatur.
>>
>>3720331
>>"Well, if you're volunteering." I'd never seen the man in close quarters combat, only his compound bow. He wasn't bringing that now. Sheathed on his back were twin scimitars, swords that are curved like the horizon of plains of Baatur.
>>
>>3720422
>>3720439
>>3720479
>>"Well, if you're volunteering." I'd never seen the man in close quarters combat, only his compound bow. He wasn't bringing that now. Sheathed on his back were twin scimitars, swords that are curved like the horizon of plains of Baatur.

I had doubts as to the feasibility of my current course of action. Stealth and sneaking was not my specialty. Scriveners don't run amok over clay-baked rooftops in the middle of the night. I particularly enjoy reading into the night, listening to the crinkling sound of old vellum while sipping something nice and hot. Chatal, on the other hand, was a scout. His sort did this kind of thing for breakfast (well, more of a midnight snack), didn't they?

We made it to the city in two hours. Snow impeded our progress. Wind buffeted our every step. It was like trying to walk through water. The gate guards weren't standing in front of the wooden gates, preferring (like any sane men) the safety of indoors. Chatal nudged open the bar with his sword through the opening gap, and barred it close again when we were inside. He turned.

"What are you doing?" Chatal asked. I had enough air in my lungs to grunt, "Being stealthy." I was trying to climb up the wall.

"You are not being stealthy. You are trying to climb walls. Do human shapes belong on top of rooftops? No," Chatal said, before I had the chance to say "yes". "Human shapes will be noticeable up there. We will walk in the street."

"But - running on rooftops - tradition!" I said heatedly, wishing in the back of my mind some of that vocal heat would transform to physical heat and warm my fingers, which were gripping some extremely cold clay-baked brick. "We've got a perfectly decent skyline here, with gracefully curved ceramic rooftops and softly glowing windows to provide intermittent contrast in the background. You can't just not run over the thing with both your arms trailing behind you."

"We walk," Chatal said simply. "I have no wish for broken neck, and less for angry behi-Corporal. She will say, 'How could you let such an idiot go wild with his ideas, like yearling foal challenging the alpha stud?'"

"I'm not an idiot."

"And then she will say, 'You must go and bring him back from the plains where the dead ride.' No, bayatur, I do not think you an idiot."

"Thank you."

"I know so. But no worry, we are all flawed in our own little ways."

The man had an ineffably honest quality that made it hard to stay offended for long. "I still think my rooftop idea has cinematographic merit."

"Some, in not so little ways."

"What was that?"

He didn't clarify that last statement. "The wind rises. Walk with me." We walked.

>And then I scrambled up one of the walls, because how could I not? [50DC]

>I meekly trotted after Chatal. There really was no one in the streets. Cold had driven even the homeless away to some godsforsaken den to freeze in.
>>
>>3720496
>>I meekly trotted after Chatal. There really was no one in the streets. Cold had driven even the homeless away to some godsforsaken den to freeze in.

>>3717164
>"...you really think so?" She really thought so? Well! I mean, of course, I had my pride as a man, but...
How could you not vote for this?
>>
>>3720496
>>I meekly trotted after Chatal. There really was no one in the streets. Cold had driven even the homeless away to some godsforsaken den to freeze in.
>>
>>3720496
>You can't just not run over the thing with both your arms trailing behind you.
Good one heh
>>
>>3720498
Don't ask me, I'm not a voter
>>
>>3720498
Agreed, I was not around too, we can fix it later
>>
>>3720529
Oh, and

>I meekly trotted after Chatal. There really was no one in the streets. Cold had driven even the homeless away to some godsforsaken den to freeze in.
>>
>>3720498
>>3720502
>>3720530
>>I meekly trotted after Chatal. There really was no one in the streets. Cold had driven even the homeless away to some godsforsaken den to freeze in.

Alas, that did not mean a lack of city guards. Wartime alertness, I am given to understand, drives officers to a flurry of activity, or at least the desire to be seen as being active. And that activity is inevitably descended unto their lessers, the humble footslogging infantryman. Trickle-down military in action.

Here they were now, just beyond the bend of this urban lane. They were smoking something in those funny long pipes that was indigenous to Sinae and now, Wae. Remarkably similar, those two peoples, excluding the size and length of history and piratical inclinations and the rapes and -

Well, remarkably similar, on certain matters. Two legs and two arms, for one.

"Three of them," Chatal said serenely, momentarily making me think of men with three arms and legs, before I realised he was talking about the guards rapidly making their patrol, who would in moments make visual contact with us. He didn't use Sign. There was no way we would be overheard. The wind was (to my chagrin) blowing toward us.

That was why I'd heard them first instead of vice versa, giving us the advantage of the opening turn.

>I tapped his shoulder. Then I pointed at the wall with a meaningful look. [DC50]

>I unfastened my buckler and sword. Hiding the bodies shouldn't be too difficult with all the banks of snow piling about like gravemounds. I only needed their illusion of security to continue for a few more days, if that. The next twenty four hours were what mattered.
>>
>>3720534
>>I tapped his shoulder. Then I pointed at the wall with a meaningful look. [DC50]
>>
>>3720534

>I tapped his shoulder. Then I pointed at the wall with a meaningful look. [DC50]
>>
>>3720534
>>I tapped his shoulder. Then I pointed at the wall with a meaningful look. [DC50]
>>
>>3720560
>>3720565
>>3720576
>I tapped his shoulder. Then I pointed at the wall with a meaningful look. [DC50]

This had nothing to do with reluctance to kill. Battles are dangerous things, best left in an arm's reach and left to those much more capable. I was trained, yes, but I knew more than anyone else how fickle Tyche was with the rolls of her dice. See as many near-deaths as I have, and you learn that avoiding a fight is the best healer for any battle-wounds.

Didn't really jive with my current course of action, of course. But we humans are fickle creatures, given to wild fancies and seemingly contrarian decisions. Even as I walked into the mouth of the dragon, I sought to lessen bloodshed, because some of those were bound to be mine.

I also wanted to scale the walls.

"This is dangerous," Chatal warned.

"So is fighting."

"Fighting, we can do. You are Black Company. Scaling walls -" he tested the climbability, rubbing the vertical surface, "-is not guaranteed."

"Neither is fighting."

"Very well. But no running. Balancing on this kind of roofing will make much noise."

We can't win everything.

>Tomfoolery 50DC
>3d100
>>
>>3720534

>I unfastened my buckler and sword. Hiding the bodies shouldn't be too difficult with all the banks of snow piling about like gravemounds. I only needed their illusion of security to continue for a few more days, if that. The next twenty four hours were what mattered.

Protest vote, this is a terrible terrible idea! I'm that part of A-really's brain screaming 'NOOOOO'
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>3720578
>>
Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>3720578
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>3720578
sigh, I warned you aurelius, I did
>>
>>3720586
>>3720597
double crit fail and success

we drop a rock from the cieling alerting a guard, the rock immediatly hits his head bringing him down
>>
>>3720583
>>3720586
>>3720597
>Doubles Fail/Success - neutralised
>1 Success

It wasn't my fault.

I was encumbered. The winter clothing that the watchmen kept in their wardrobe was intended for perambulating around their marked territories. It was definitely not designed for any sort of vigorous vertical wall-vaulting. Chatal clambered on to the wall that separated the common street and somebody's rock garden in a manner that reminded me of a big white cat sidling over a boulder. I scrabbled up like a drowning rat.

The Magal scout extended his hand to me, and half pulled me up the wall that was only a head taller than me. He signed, Silence - Wait. I was content to stay still. Running on rooftops sounds fun and all, until you realise the sweeping curvature of the ceramic tiles make it a very bad idea to do so.

The city guards came into view, acrid smoke whimpering from their longpipes. The cold drove them to move quickly, wishing to end the patrol and return to the guard room where a fire was burning. One of them cupped his pipe's chamber, intended to place more dried plant matter into the gentle furnace that burned them at just the right temperature to provide a mildly addictive fume. He looked up idly. We saw each other.

I put a finger on my lips, the universal language for "Shut up." He pointed at me and shouted.

Chatal leapt down.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
Chatal: Healthy
>Combat = +75DC [Healthy +5DC, Tired -5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC, Chatal +25DC]
>Armour Value = 5AV [Iron buckler +5AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33)
VS
City Guard Corporal: Healthy
City Guardsman x2
>Combat = 35DC [Healthy +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Zealous +10DC, Tatami gusoku +5DC, Naginata +10DC, City Guardsman x2 +12DC]
>Armour Value = 3AV [Tatami gusoku +3AV]
>Special = Unto Death (Ally death increases Zealous stack)

Personal Combat DC90
>3d100
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>3720634
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>3720634
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>3720634
>>
>>3720637
>>3720665
>>3720692
>3 Success
>Surprising Lack of Critfails

For all the disciplined shine of their lacquered leather armour that spoke to hours of polish and care, they didn't do much against straight steel. The corporal shouted, the spearmen tried to deal with us, their crescent halberds looming threateningly. And then they died. Chatal cut through the officer quite easily. As much as the practical campaigner Aurelius disparaged dual wielding, I wouldn't have wanted to be the officer who was being physically lectured with a first-class seating on what exactly it meant to be on the other side of a man with double the usual complement of swords.

The two watchmen were disciplined. They were also discipliend for a very different kind of battle - that which involves a hundred people, on an open field, preferrably, and with a general shouting where and how to attack at them.

That's the thing with infantrymen. They aren't supposed to go around in such small numbers. What they are for is grouping up en masse in pretty and orderly formations and face off the other neatly arranged boxes of humanity, marching forward against each other until, inevitably, they clash. And then all hell breaks loose and everyone hopes their side has a more convincing argument in the form of stronger (or more numerous) spears, until one side gives up and flees. Which is when, by age old conventions, the killings really began.

There was none of that here. No distracting screams, no comrades dying beside you. This was small-scaled in a tight position, and incredibly personal. My buckler met a downward blow with an uncertain spear thrust when it was clearly designed with slashing in mind, clanging softly with the meeting of iron against iron. The other one tried a loping horizontal cut. I swooped low, raising my sword as it passed over and heard a wooden thunk. He looked with horror at his emasculated spear, which was now a quarterstaff.

Mass production. They say that is the future of warfare. Maybe they are right, whoever they are. But not in this century.
>>
>>3720706

While I was distracting the two soldiers, Chatal had finished demonstrating why having a decent helmet was a very good idea to the officer, and was turning to assist his outnumbered sergeant. Two blinks of an eye was all it took. I picked up a pipe, carefully wiped the former owner's blood off the handle, and then tried a puff. My lungs reacted violently.

"Bad for your lungs, that." Chatal was dragging the dead bodies and slinging them into alleyways. "No time to hide them proper. The snow'll do that for us."

I nodded. A shame about the soldiers, I thought. They were just patrolling.

The pagoda was surprisingly unguarded. There were a few torch-holders here and there in the courtyard that spaced the main structure away from its own walls. The Waelanders loved their low-hanging walls, it separated the public areas from the private areas. They were also not very good at keeping determined climbers out.

Chatal went up first, and extended a rope down. He was a marvel on scaling the hanging roofs that marked each level. "Where'd you learn how to do that?" I asked, when I finished climbing up the rope. "There are no trees in Baatur."

"I have lived a long time in Sinae itself," he replied. An exile. He was not one of the Magal that we picked up back in Baatur, but in Reed. "There is someone within. Do you want to wait?" The opaque window showed a candle behind the thick paper screen. Figures were writhing around the room, casting lurid shadows that left very little to the imagination. There were also sounds that left nothing to the imagination.

>We dove in. There was an explosive shower of wooden shrapnels and ripping rice-paper or whatever they use for these windows of theirs. [SHOCK AND AWE]

>I cut open an opening with my sword. It wasn't loud, but it would definitely be audible to those within thanks to the wooden supporting struts for the paper on the way. [Take your time]
>>
>>3720708
>>We dove in. There was an explosive shower of wooden shrapnels and ripping rice-paper or whatever they use for these windows of theirs. [SHOCK AND AWE]
>>
>>3720708

>I cut open an opening with my sword. It wasn't loud, but it would definitely be audible to those within thanks to the wooden supporting struts for the paper on the way. [Take your time]

We are here for stealth
>>
>>3720708

>I cut open an opening with my sword. It wasn't loud, but it would definitely be audible to those within thanks to the wooden supporting struts for the paper on the way. [Take your time]
>>
>>3720708

>I cut open an opening with my sword. It wasn't loud, but it would definitely be audible to those within thanks to the wooden supporting struts for the paper on the way. [Take your time]
>>
>>3720754
Scratch thatn

>shock and awe
>>
Question

Is this the room from that noble or this is another room that we are going in first?
>>
>>3720708
>>We dove in. There was an explosive shower of wooden shrapnels and ripping rice-paper or whatever they use for these windows of theirs. [SHOCK AND AWE]
>>
>>3720708
>>I cut open an opening with my sword. It wasn't loud, but it would definitely be audible to those within thanks to the wooden supporting struts for the paper on the way. [Take your time]
>>
>>3720827
This is indeed the noble, because you came back for that monastery report
>>
>>3720923
I we will need to flip this one, no one will budge
>>
>>3721048
I don't like the fact that we come here in the first place. For what? We know everything we need
>>
>>3721070
We don't, for example how the ritual works or its location or purpose, all we know is that it would happen, we beed the info, if we miss something it could tturn out very bad
>>
>>3720708

>We dove in. There was an explosive shower of wooden shrapnels and ripping rice-paper or whatever they use for these windows of theirs. [SHOCK AND AWE]
>>
>>3720714
>>3720758
>>3720886
>>3721170
>We dove in. There was an explosive shower of wooden shrapnels and ripping rice-paper or whatever they use for these windows of theirs. [SHOCK AND AWE]

"Not a word," I hissed. My shortsword was against his neck. That was language enough for anyone. The sudden intrusion of two armed men into what was no doubt a rose-coloured haze of a night until then had frozen him into inaction. Not to mention the very real cold that was currently blowing in from out. "Chatal, bind the woman and see if you can block the wind, please? I'd rather not make people wonder why the sound of snowstorm is so loud in here."

"Yes, bayatur."

I glanced at the man. He was thankfully clothed, as was the woman, who huddled in the corner, terrified and now safely bound. No doubt certain images were going through her mind right now. That wasn't me. I didn't do things to civilians. Unfortunately, most soldiers disagreed with such a moral stance. They preferred amoral stances.

"You speak Sinaean," I said to the man. He nodded. He was one of the aristocrats. Sinaean was the language of the nobles, the clergy, or both. "Tell her that we won't harm her, as long as she stays silent," I said. He said something to her. That didn't calm her, but it did not frighten her more. It was something. "Do you know why we are here?"

"You will die for touching me, vermin." Ah, so the loverboy was getting some of his fire back. "Wait, is that - is that a Magal warrior?"

The genuine note of fascination in his voice made me pause my fist. "You aren't calling him vermin."

"I've always wanted to meet one. They are said to mate with horses, and bring forth great lines of military mounts."

"One out of two," Chatal muttered.

"Your seed will be useful in improving my stable."

I meet a lot of people in my line of work. Crazy people, nutty people, bratty people. This guy was all three. At the same time.

>"I just want to borrow some light reading material, then we'll be on our way."

>"Your name," I paused. "It isn't Lee or Li, by any chance?"
>>
>>3721223
>>"I just want to borrow some light reading material, then we'll be on our way."
>>
>>3721223
>"Your name," I paused. "It isn't Lee or Li, by any chance?"
>>
>>3721170
Blessed are the tiebreakers, for theirs is the continuation of quests
>>
>>3721223
>>"Your name," I paused. "It isn't Lee or Li, by any chance?"
>>
>>3721223

>>"I just want to borrow some light reading material, then we'll be on our way."

Let's secure the documents first, then we interrogate
>>
>>3721291
>>3721314
This is a change btw
>>
>>3721230
>>3721314
>>"I just want to borrow some light reading material, then we'll be on our way."

"Eternal hellfire awaits you, heathen," the man - young adult, if we want to quibble - said hotly. "You break into my room, interrupt me in the middle of..." his voice trailed off, then gained strength, "interrupt me, and-"

"Save the yapping. Chatal, please tie this gentleman too. I have to look into things." Leaving him with the tender fingers of the Magal warrior, I rummaged the floor that had actually been cleaned. Not by a monk, I thought. It was too shoddily done. So the Suenaga fellow had some power over the youth.

I did not waste time when I found it at last. Using the only candle in the room, I read:

Jiro,

blessings of the All-Mother be with you. Things are proceeding as expected here. I have just received report from the other three isles that they have finished with the preliminary sacrifices, all according to the Book of Rites, no thanks to the city temples who couldn't scrounge up the women with appropriate haste. One thousand virginal dead in each island, just like the days of old. The logistics of such an operation has driven us here all crazy, but thankfully the four thousand do not need to be sacrificed at the same time. The winter cold does an excellent job in keeping the blood pools pristine. Only the second part of the ritual remains.

I understand that the Heavenly Sovereign was reluctant to part with his four daughters. It is an admirable thing, to love one's family, but even more to understood one's duty to the Yamato - even if he is the Heavenly Sovereign. It is good that the Pacifist Faction never won, else they would have been sent to the barbarians' palaces to be wed to heretical princes. Then where would we be now?

I trust you did not fool around with Her Imperial Highness. You have been handed a grave task, as the son of the most trusted daimyo to the Shogun, the likes of which only three other men in the entire world have been given. One Imperial princess per island, as the ancient writ commands. I know that you will make sure the Marriage will go smoothly. And that you will not lay your hands on the girl.

Enclosed within are the desired schedule for the storms, along with extra taels of gold to sate your worldly lust, just in case. I have always disapproved of your womanising ways, but I have also known you too long not to take precautions. I will be reciting the sutras of chastity in the appointed day, so that the gods will watch over you as you lead the sacred ritual.

Don't fuck this up.

With fraternal affections,
Your brother
>>
>>3721334

Human sacrifice. The letter dropped from my numb fingers. One of the greatest taboo in the Empire was the murder of humans to offer to the gods. "You killed humans for this?" I asked. He wasn't replying. Didn't feel helpful, I guessed.

"It is perhaps time we are gone," Chatal said carefully. He was wary I might break down.

Human sacrifices are the greatest taboo in Imperial culture. It was also the first thing the Emperor stamped out wherever he conquered. Not because it was senseless superstition. The trouble with it was that it worked, and it worked so dreadfully well.

Of course they'd been using human sacrifices. That's how they managed to stay independent.

But was it worth it, to kill all those people?

Perhaps I am being hypocritical. I am a mercenary, fighting for the goals of others, repaid with gold. But my eternal soul was not consumed or damned by whatever gods lurked in the periphery of the world. I'd been with the most learned scholars of the Empire for a significant chunk of my life, and all the experts agreed: thaumaturgic signatures were filled with such terror and dread in places of ritual human sacrifice, the major ones exhibiting manifestations even after ten thousand years. And when you are keyed in to such things like myself, those areas become unbearable. A mini-slice of Hell.

Have you ever heard a mother scream for her dead child? Then you have an inkling of what tormented souls sound like. It is the keening of the man who has lost his daughter to bandits. The wail of a child without its mother. And there are so many of them, psychotropic imprints of their anguish beyond the veil. One thousand dead in each island...

"Aurelius!" Chatal barked, using my name for the first time. "Snap out of it. Please."

"You fucking monster," I croaked.

"You forced our hands," he said defiantly. "Do you think that we take pleasures in such things? Only Peninsulars and Sinaeans deserve to be sacrificed, but desperate times call for desperate measures." Gods, and he believed it, too.

>I punched him.

>"Do you realise what you have done?" I asked.
>>
>>3721345
>>I punched him.
I slit his throat. Seems more appropriate
>>
>>3721345


>"Do you realise what you have done?" I asked.
Let's see if he spills anything else

That explains why we noticed there were less women around
And the need of male prostitutes
>>
>>3721345


>"Do you realise what you have done?" I asked.
>>
>>3721354
>>3721356
>"Do you realise what you have done?" I asked.

"We have fought off invaders like you," he said proudly. "Independence. Civilisational superiority, unsullied by your like."

I questioned such reasoning. Not because he was wrong in my lack of civility. I could see that. We were invaders, clad in black. Strange. Different. The Other. There was some merit to what he said. We were disrupting the status quo, bothering them with sword and fire. But surely, there was a line that must not be crossed. Surely even ideals, those high-fallutin' words like independence and freedom and civilisation and the like, should give way to the ultimate concern, which is the welfare of people in general.

A mercenary with a golden heart. I can already see the grimace. It is, I agree, a played-out trope. But even mercenaries are people, with all the diverse array of thoughts and hopes and, yes, depravities. That is because we are human.

I thought of Honey. Would I damn so many souls into an eternity of devouring gods for her sake? In my heart of hearts where honesty springs eternal despite my best efforts, I heard the answer -

>and found that I, too, was a monster. I could not deny what was in my heart. I would do anything - anything - for Honey.

>"No." And I was comforted, because I knew Honey would not want me to become such a man.
>>
>>3721386
>>"No." And I was comforted, because I knew Honey would not want me to become such a man.
>>
>>3721386

>"No." And I was comforted, because I knew Honey would not want me to become such a man.

But I'm totally using that untaped magic gathered to extend Hood's life
>>
>>3721386
>>"No." And I was comforted, because I knew Honey would not want me to become such a man.
>>
>>3721393
Yup, the magic is already there might as well use it kek
>>
>>3721386
>>"No." And I was comforted, because I knew Honey would not want me to become such a man.
>>
>>3721393
>Extends Hood's lfespan
>No youth, so she just ages until her body decays while still conscious
>Also she's sterile now

Not saying I wouldn't want Hood to live as long as us, but maybe we should ask any of the actual magic users what happens
>>
>>3722574
Yup, those would be valid concerns, an extended lifespan should come with extended youth like Aurelius has too
>>
>>3721390
>>3721393
>>3721475
>>3721887
>"No." And I was comforted, because I knew Honey would not want me to become such a man.

"Sergeant."

"Thank you, Trooper Chatal." Tonight was a night of firsts. He called me sergeant as well. "I'm fine now."

"Are you certain? Only you looked a bit..."

"Yes," I said tonelessly. Lurching forward, I watched with a kind of fascination as my sword, seemingly moving on its own volition, made a graceful horizontal arc. The noble boy died. The woman whimpered quietly, but didn't scream to her credit. He had been a client instead of a lover. Pitiful to die with no one who cares for you at your side.

"That may not have been wise," Chatal said.

"We weren't going for subtle. And he knew we were foreigners."

"And the woman? She is a witness."

"Leave her." Civilians. Lines drawn in the sand. Mars be thanked that this was one of their book-keeping temples, and not their ritual magic sites. But that place was near this city, or else he wouldn't have come. There were sounds from below. Monks roused by the sound of the crash and the incoming cold. "Time we should be getting on, I think. Grab any maps you can see. And the gold. They'll be useful if we spend long in this gods-beloved islands."

We left the way we came, hearing the hubbub of worried monks behind us. Now there was a scream. Chatal jumped down the tiered roofs level by level and I followed more clumsily. We made some sound, but speed was of the essence here. Snow cushioned the fall. Before long we were footing it away from the city walls, even as the city woke up to find the news of the death of an upstanding nobleman.

The end justified the means, most of the time. But some means never deserve to be used.

---

"Tell me about this ritual."

I'd waken up Dumpling for this. The gold in my eyes were returned. Her hands shook. Her face was pale and worn out. Long-term use of sorcery can be very draining. Like walking in a dream, never certain that the floor beneath your feet won't give out and tumble you out into the world of consciousness. "It's the rite of spring," she said.

Fox was puzzled. "Spring? This is the beginning of winter."

"It's supposed to happen in spring. When the seeds are being planted. It's... very old. A marriage between celestial gods and cthonic gods to ensure a good harvest. Usually ends with a human sacrifice."

"How do you know this?" Hood asked.

Dumpling looked at her in the eyes. "Akitum. My sisters and I were the sacrifices. We were triplets."

Twins are seen as lucky in some religions. Triplets are almost unheard of. That explained their flight. They were too young to have committed something dreadful by themselves. "But this doesn't sound like it's intended for a harvest," I said. "Winds? Storms?"
>>
>>3723539

"Heavenly Sovereign. His daughters are the celestial representatives. They'll be Married off to their god here. I am guessing that instead of an earth god, it will be a water god." The heavens and the waters. It wasn't too much of a stretch to see where the storm came.

"Gods aren't real," Lee said skeptically. "I mean, it's been a very long time since they walked the lands."

"Yes, because the Emperor suppressed gods. Not like the ancestor gods or anything like that, because those are harmless. Wishful thinking, at best."

"But the Emperor never made it to the Islands," I said thoughtfully. Dumpling nodded. Divine Caesar, why have you not given me a True legion? This was more than some peasant militia could deal with. I glanced out the paper-glazed window. It was beginning to light. Soon there would be the ritual in one of the mountains that surrounded the city. The islands were mountains. No surprise that their population was so poor with such unworkable lands.

"Their Heavenly Sovereign is surely not a god," Chatal questioned.

"Ye-es, but that's why they commit so many sacrifices, I think," Dumpling replied. "It's all very esoteric. I mean, I haven't done ritual casting in years. Most of the time, the kind of things the Black Company asks for is glamours and tricks."

I nodded in understanding. Sorcerers had different specialisations. Shamaness was the greater of the two, but Dumpling was better studied. A life in the mysterious far west where true Parthia lies, I supposed. "Rest up," I said, patting Dumpling's hand. "We're moving in two hours."

"What are your orders, sir?" Trooper Fox asked. One day I will knock that legionary stiffness out of him.

>"We're going to go rescue a princess."

>"Volley of arrows first, then the killing. Leave no survivors."
>>
>>3723546
>"We're going to go rescue a princess."
I think killing would strengthen ritual or finish it
>>
>>3723546

>"We're going to go rescue a princess."

I'm afraid of killing her and compleating the ritual for them, they said on the letter that they don't need to die at the same time
>>
>>3723546
>>"We're going to go rescue a princess."
>>
>>3723546
>>"We're going to go rescue a princess."
>>
>>3723548
>>3723551
>>3723562
>>3723566
>>"We're going to go rescue a princess."

An equite in shining armour should have been my calling. I was even married to a princess, though Shamaness was evasive on where exactly she was a princess of. We rested. Dumpling could finally exercise a bit, since my disguise was no longer needed.

The day began with an execution. "They are killing a man with an honest face," Chatal said, who had eagle eyes and could see such things. "His clothes are black and white with a red symbol on his shoulder-pads."

"That was the magistrate," Lee said with a surprise.

"Scapegoat for the death of a daimyo's son." Suenaga was probably in charge now.

"Soldiers were coming in during the night. After you came back." Mulberry pointed to the black-armoured soldiers who were significantly bulkier-looking, even from this distance. "They're not wearing the Chrysanthemum of the Heavenly Sovereign."

"Shogun's men," I guessed. Lee thought so as well. Hood took the lead as we followed the procession of the new soldiers and priests out of the city. They climbed up a winding path. The musicians made a ruckus with brass instruments. We followed, taking great care not to be seen and to keep some distance. The soldiers were wary. They were nothing like the city guard.

>Make Like a Tree 3d100
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>3723587
>>
>>3723588
I see things started very well
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>3723587


>>3723588
Do we have any rerolls or something? Damn this is very unlucky
>>
>>3723591
Nope, better hope the next one is a 1
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>3723587
>>
at least no doubles to add to the shitshow
>>
>>3723588
>>3723591
>>3723593
Why am I not surprised
>>
>>3723588
No, nothing like the city guard.

We had gone some ways up the mountain. The Waelanders walked on neatly made stairs. We were hiking on uneven ground. Spread out so that they wouldn't notice uniform movement, we were safe from notice, or so I thought.

Mulberry stepped on a wooden branch. The nearest soldier turned, his thin eyes alert.

"Nani—?" he exclaimed just as he noticed Mulberry. Before I could do anything, Mulberry darted off, her short legs pumping up and down as quickly as she could through the unfavourable mountain terrain. She was trying to draw them away from the rest of us. Three soldiers detached themselves from the line to chase her with silent efficiency.

>Oh no, she didn't. Suicidal self sacrifice was an Aurelius thing. Signing to Hood to continue shadowing the procession, I sneak-ran as well, following the soldiers and the girl.

>Keep Moving, I signed. The number of escorts were lessened by three, leaving seventeen, ignoring the musicians and the priests. That was more men than Mulberry could have killed herself. Is this how officers thought? Lives as numbers? No wonder I hated being one.
>>
>>3723611
>>Oh no, she didn't. Suicidal self sacrifice was an Aurelius thing. Signing to Hood to continue shadowing the procession, I sneak-ran as well, following the soldiers and the girl.

NANI!?

wow you found a very appropriate pic

can we crossbow a fool from behind?
>>
>>3723611
>Oh no, she didn't. Suicidal self sacrifice was an Aurelius thing. Signing to Hood to continue shadowing the procession, I sneak-ran as well, following the soldiers and the girl.
>>
>>3723614
I know right? That almost never happens! And yes, though the sound of crossbow is pretty distinctive. Currently they only noticed Mulberry. If the main procession hears weapons, that might call for reinforcements.

Which is fun, in its own way.
>>
>>3723611
>>Oh no, she didn't. Suicidal self sacrifice was an Aurelius thing. Signing to Hood to continue shadowing the procession, I sneak-ran as well, following the soldiers and the girl.
>>
>>3723611

>Keep Moving, I signed. The number of escorts were lessened by three, leaving seventeen, ignoring the musicians and the priests. That was more men than Mulberry could have killed herself. Is this how officers thought? Lives as numbers? No wonder I hated being one.
>>
>>3723614
>>3723617
>>3723632
>>Oh no, she didn't. Suicidal self sacrifice was an Aurelius thing. Signing to Hood to continue shadowing the procession, I sneak-ran as well, following the soldiers and the girl.

Running is easy. Trying to do it quietly isn't. While the soldiers merrily chased their child quarry through the forest with utter disregard for the local shrubbery, I was trying to keep up with them in silence if not speed.

Mulberry was faster than I'd given her credit. The soldiers were also heavily armoured - iron, not simply lacquered leather. The latter fact was what allowed me to keep up speed with the slowest one, though the two other quickly disappeared from my line of sight. In my haste to catch up to Mulberry, I tumbled.

When I rose up, the slowest soldier was already on the offensive.

>Dodging Spear 3d100
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>3723853
>>
Rolled 61, 33, 62 = 156 (3d100)

>>3723853
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>3723853
Ignore
>>3723865
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>3723853
witness my 100
>>
>>3723864
>>3723866
>>3723875
>1 Success

The speartip stabbed air. I grabbed its shaft, intending to pull him off his feet, but he used it to slap my head before dropping it immediately, his hand going to his swordhilt. A flash of pain blitzed through my head. There was a wetness around my left ear, vaguely aching.

"Foreigner," he called out in a monotonous voice in Sinaean. "You have no business here. Surrender, or die."

"What gave me away?" I drew my sword.

"Your armour." Right. I was in my full panoply complete with the helmet. And that we were deep in the woods, conspicuously near the winding road that led to an important ritual site, and I was very much armed. Not even my sacred prostitute getup would have gotten me out of this. "And your eyes. Will they retain their glow when their owner dies, I wonder?" He spun his sword slowly, one-handed. Loosening his hand muscles. "I would have you know that I have trained twenty nine years in the way of the warrior. You may have had some success against country yokels here, stranger. You cannot expect the same leniency by inferiority from me. Surrender, and you might still live a day from now."

My eyes were on his sword. It was a similar kind to Mulberry's before she hid it. Was it ensouled? He wielded the bastard sword-lengthed weapon with one hand, easily. His other hand was empty. I remembered Lee fighting like that, longsword in one hand, nothing in the other. He would use his free arm to balance his weight, then. It was a ceremonial kind of swordfighting. Very pretty to look at, and deadly in its own way.

"A pity Lee isn't here, so I can show him precisely why such fancy swordsmanship is a bad idea."

He smiled tightly. "Lee? So, you are Peninsular. I did not think those monkeys would have the, how do you say this? Testicular merit, yes, to send assassins. They will rue the day they raised their hands against the holy children of Yamato, instead of accepting their place as tributary. But your armour... it is unfamiliar. No Peninsular smith made those. I think I will keep that for myself."

I breathed. It is important to prepare your body before exerting yourself. That and I had been running in this armoured getup.

>For a fighter of disreputable forms, the dirt is your friend. There was no dirt here, clumped and made heavy with water by the freezing winter. But there was plenty of snow. I kicked the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of powder against feet, and sprayed the man with dirt-browned snow. Then I attacked.

>Not for the first time, I wished I had a scutum. And some fellow swordsmen. And a bloody javelin. Why didn't I have a javelin? I should have bought a javelin. They are so much easier to use mid-battle than crossbows, which are intricate things and require aiming. No matter. I waited for him to come to me, in the age-old traditions of the legionaries. For the warriors of the Emperor set the battleground, instead of allowing others to do it for them.
>>
>>3723921
>>For a fighter of disreputable forms, the dirt is your friend. There was no dirt here, clumped and made heavy with water by the freezing winter. But there was plenty of snow. I kicked the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of powder against feet, and sprayed the man with dirt-browned snow. Then I attacked.
>>
>>3723921
>>For a fighter of disreputable forms, the dirt is your friend. There was no dirt here, clumped and made heavy with water by the freezing winter. But there was plenty of snow. I kicked the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of powder against feet, and sprayed the man with dirt-browned snow. Then I attacked.

fuck him and his way of the warrior, he can curse our lack of honor while he chocked on his own blood
>>
>>3723921
>For a fighter of disreputable forms, the dirt is your friend. There was no dirt here, clumped and made heavy with water by the freezing winter. But there was plenty of snow. I kicked the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of powder against feet, and sprayed the man with dirt-browned snow. Then I attacked.
>>
>>3723921

>>For a fighter of disreputable forms, the dirt is your friend. There was no dirt here, clumped and made heavy with water by the freezing winter. But there was plenty of snow. I kicked the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of powder against feet, and sprayed the man with dirt-browned snow. Then I attacked.
>>
>>3723928
>>3723944
>>3723947
>>3723952
>>For a fighter of disreputable forms, the dirt is your friend. There was no dirt here, clumped and made heavy with water by the freezing winter. But there was plenty of snow. I kicked the ground, feeling the familiar sensation of powder against feet, and sprayed the man with dirt-browned snow. Then I attacked.

The warrior swatted away at the improvised screen of ground matter as I closed the distance. He hissed something poisonous in his native language. I didn't need to have a translator to get the gist.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
>Combat = +81DC [Healthy +5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Parthian plate +15DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's helm +6DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC, Cheating (temporary advantage) +5DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33), Parthian plate (up to 3 AV rolls)
VS
Bushi: Healthy
>Combat = 82DC [Healthy +5DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

Personal Combat DC49
>3d100
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>3723960
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>3723960
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>3723960
We dead
>>
>>3723969
No hunny bunny we good
>>
Rolled 20, 21 = 41 (2d100)

>>3723963
>>3723965
>>3723969
Rolling AV
>>
>>3724000
get fucked Bushi
>>
>2 Success
>Immune to Bleed

The gladius made a deep wound that gashed his side. Blood that was black and sludge-like sprayed the snow, with the consistency of bitumen. More of it dripped against his armour. "You fight like the dog in the street," he hissed. "Cur! You will die like it."

I didn't reply. I was too busy looking at that not-blood. What was it? It wasn't ichor the likes of which I knew. Silver for unnatural venatores, gold for the true children of the Emperor. But he bled black and thick. They congealed in an oily sheen. The chemical smell made my eyes water.

"So silent!" he snarl-laughed. "Are you frightened, common dog of the street? Do you despair at the power of the Yamato? It is true, we do not bleed like mortal men. Truly, we have been chosen..." and there was an explosive cough that expelled more of that substance.

If it were normal blood, he would be weakening severely by now. But there was little change in the strength of his voice. What foul cthonic powers played at being god to this deluded island people?

>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."

>"What the fuck is wrong with your blood?"
>>
>>3724020
>>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."
>>
>>3724020
>>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."
>>
>>3724020
>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."
>>
>>3724020
>>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."
>>
>>3724020
>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."
>"But seriously though what the fuck is up with your blood?"
>>
>>3724023
>>3724027
>>3724028
>>3724040
>"All your warrior code and military ethics, and you come to this. Human sacrifice."

"For everything, a sacrifice. There is nothing more precious to ourselves than freedom. Let other people grovel under the rule of foreigners. Sinaeans!" He spat something black. "How we used to look up to them. Even now, we borrow their language, their culture, their mores... but not their spirit."

"A soldier who has no one to protect is nothing but a brigand."

He shook his head. "What would a foreigner understand of philosophy behind the bushido? You know nothing of our ways. Less than nothing. You say we do not protect anyone? You are wrong. We protect the ideal of our people."

He had fought for ideals so long that he forgot about the people those very ideals were intended to protect. Would he understand that? Would he even listen? I looked at the eyes filled with zeal, those hands shaking with eagerness to kill and die. Neither would matter to him, as long as he believed himself to be completely in the right.

They were a race that had doomed themselves in their eagerness to stand proud according to their own standards.

He was standing some ways away, waiting for me to make the move, sword raised.

>I sighed, untethered my crossbow from my back, and shot him.

>Man against man, sword against sword. I steadily closed the distance.
>>
>>3724064

>I sighed, untethered my crossbow from my back, and shot him.
>>
>>3724064
>I sighed, untethered my crossbow from my back, and shot him
>>
>>3724069
Wait, are we far enough for this?
>>
>>3724064

>Man against man, sword against sword. I steadily closed the distance.
>>
>>3724064
>>Man against man, sword against sword. I steadily closed the distance.
>>
>>3724074
>>3724064
Good question.
>>
>>3724074
The dice will decide!
>>
>>3724064
WAIT NO! WE MIGHT NEED THAT CROSSBOW SHOT AND HE MIGHT DO SOME BULLSHIT MANEUVER TO DESTROY IT!
>Man against man, sword against sword. I steadily closed the distance.
>>
>>3724064
>>I sighed, untethered my crossbow from my back, and shot him.
>>
Perfectly balanced, as all things should be
>>
>>3724244
Oh just finger snap and git it over with Diet Mountain Dew Thanos.
>>
>>3724244
Ok, I change to swording his face in
>>
Rolled 76, 81, 73 = 230 (3d100)

>>3724287
FUCKING WEEBSHITS ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!
>>
>>3724287
Bugger, fucked up my formatting, please hold your votes
>>
>>3724294
FUG
>>
>Man against man, sword against sword. I steadily closed the distance.

It was tempting. I could just shoot him, right there. The distance was just far enough that I could plausibly do it.

My hand gripped my sword tightly. Safe and sure, Aurelius. Them's the way that works. Safe for whom? It sure didn't seem safe for my health, being so close to the person who wants to kill me. But dropping my sword to raise the crossbow now was risky.

Safe and sure, then.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
>Combat = +76DC [Healthy +5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Parthian plate +15DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's helm +6DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33), Parthian plate (up to 3 AV rolls)
VS
Bushi: Injured
>Combat = 72DC [Injured -5DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death), Black Ichor

Personal Combat DC54
>3d100
>>
>>3724297
friendo, it's just 1 d100 at a time
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3724299
fug
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>3724299
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3724299
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH WEEBSHITTERY IN MY BLACK COMPANY QUEST? THE NERRRRRRRRRRRRRRVE!

>>3724302
I'm aware anon, curse be on my mind to not understand the value of the wait and see approach.
>>
>>3724320
>>3724308
>>3724306
pats on the back all around anons
>>
Rolled 56, 18 = 74 (2d100)

almost forgot to roll AV
>>
>>3724369
So close

>>3724306
>>3724308
>>3724320
>2 Success
>Enemy Killed

He came to me this time. It was like facing down a charging rhinocerous. All his armour plates rattled from the sheer speed as he ran headlong toward me, his sword raised in a two-handed grip. I ran to the side, barely dodging a nick from his blade, and punched forward with my sword-hand -

The warrior tumbled to the ground, cloak aflutter. The black thing marked the skidding fall against the transparent snow. I cautiously approached him and turned him over. He was dead. I wiped my gladius with his cloak before sheathing it.

There it was, that sword of his. Vibrating with power. The metal swirled with dark clouds. My earlobe did its thing, assuring me that it was, in fact, magic. "How many died to forge you?" I asked. It didn't talk back. Didn't have the mouth to.

Taking care not to let it contact bare flesh, I shattered the blade with the good old lever principle - with rocks. The swirling clouds disappeared, and there was, for a moment, a terrible sense of loss. But it passed.

"Savages," I muttered. "The madmen actually quenched the sword in the blood of innocents, I'd bet."

---

It wasn't hard to find Mulberry. She was shouting angrily, occasionally stopped by what sounded like a kick to the lungs. I dropped all pretense to being stealthy and ran. She was on the ground, her face mucked with angry tears. They'd caught her despite her speed in the end. One was holding her down, and the other was raising his sword.

I barged against the executioner, raising him and I both off our feet. Note to Aurelius from every part of my body: don't do that when you're wearing something horredously metallic. No amount of cushioning could stop the bruising. If I wasn't Alexandrian, I'd look half purple for the next two weeks.

The man who was touching the girl in highly inappropriate manner dropped her immediately, raising his own sword. Say what you will about the new guys in black's sexual preferences, they were good at their job. And that job was killing.

The dead man I left behind wasn't a picnic. And now it was one versus two.

>"Time out," I said desperately. "Don't you guys care about honour? Fight me one on one, you sons of bitches!"

>Every minute spent here was another minute where the platoon was without two fighters. Two versus one it is.
>>
>>3724373
>Every minute spent here was another minute where the platoon was without two fighters. Two versus one it is.
I'll bet that if we request the one on one, they'll just pull some "hurr hurr you're a not-gaijin therefore you're not worthy of our totally willy-whacky honor system!" shit.
>>
>>3724373

>Every minute spent here was another minute where the platoon was without two fighters. Two versus one it is.
>>
>>3724373

>Every minute spent here was another minute where the platoon was without two fighters. Two versus one it is.

They can't be all as good as that other dude can they? Yup, yup they can
Time for that crossbow bolt I think
>>
>>3724402
I am so happy I changed my vote way back.
>>
>>3724383
>>3724400
>>3724402
>Every minute spent here was another minute where the platoon was without two fighters. Two versus one it is.

I fired off my crossbow and dropped the delicate weapon without even seeing if the bolt hit to react to the other warrior. How can he be so fast? I barely put my buckler up in time to deflect his sword slash, responding with a jab that stabbed air. My lungs were on fire from running all this way, and my shoulder ached from my brief tenure as a human ballista.

There was no time to stop and think, no gap to exchange wits in Sinaean. Outnumbered as I was, I had to cut down those odds as quickly as possible.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Bruised
>Combat = +71DC [Bruised +0DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Parthian plate +15DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's helm +6DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33), Parthian plate (up to 3 AV rolls)
VS
Bushi Ichi: Bruised
Bushi Ni: Battered
>Combat = 97DC [Bruised +0DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC, Bushi Ni +20DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

Personal Combat DC24
>3d100
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>3724424
we are so bloody dead
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>3724424
Shit

We fucked up, if we survive we have to ask for that 1 on 1
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>3724424
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>3724438
Rerolling the double
>>
>>3724435
>>3724445
>>3724447
Fascinating! Please wait warmly for the next post.
>>
Oh before I forget, you do have a DC55 for the three AV rolls. So if you want to do that... (I almost forgot myself)
>>
>>3724459
Do we roll av
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>3724460
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>3724460
And the healing ability too right?
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>3724460
regeneration roll from battered state?
>>
>>3724472
>>3724470
Yes, go for it
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>3724474
Uck
>>
Gg boys, quest over ;_;+
>>
>>3724474
Guse we are died
>>
>>3724435
>>3724445
>>3724447
>3 Failures
>1 AV Success
>Divine Constitution Failed
>Status: [redWounded[/red]

"Fuck me," I said. Then I vomited blood. Not very pretty if you have a face mask on your face, but at least it wasn't black.

"There was a third man with us," one of them - the one with the fucking hands who had been touching Mulberry all over - said. "You killed him?"

My reply was a non sequitur. "Shove a hedgehog up your anal cavities."

"The barbarian is drunk with death," the other one laughed. This one had less of an accent in his Sinaean. "But he shows spirit! As well he should. One of us, killed by any lowly peasant with a sword - now that would be true dishonour. Stranger! We thank you for the sport you have given us."

"I don't," the first one said. "I prefer boys to men."

"She's a fucking girl, you degenerate," Every word was another cough of ichor. My lungs were working overtime to deliver oxygenated blood everywhere, half of which ended up pouring out anyway. The body of an Alexandrian is enduring and unbelievably regenerative, but it isn't foolproof. And if my life had shown anything, it was that I was a fool.

"Damnations," the handsy one said. "So it was a female? I did think he had an exceptionally small-"

I've mentioned a long time ago that I hate nothing more than hot chocolate gone cold. That was a lie. Before I lay down my life in the foolishness that is genetically hard-coded into my fool of a bloodline, let me say this:

I fucking hate pedophiles.

"I fucking hate pedophiles," I growled. Their blades descended against mine in unison.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Wounded
>Combat = +61DC [Wounded +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +10DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +1DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Unnatural Will +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Scion (Major) +10DC, Parthian plate +15DC, Iron buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's helm +6DC, Gladius hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Gladius hispaniensis (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC33), Parthian plate (up to 3 AV rolls)
VS
Bushi Ichi: Bruised
Bushi Ni: Battered
>Combat = 97DC [Bruised +0DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC, Bushi Ni +20DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

Personal Combat DC14
>3d100
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>3724505
Re...
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3724505
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>3724505
It's just imposible....we failed dudes
>>
>>3724513
>>3724520
>>3724534
Failure is just another word for happy little accidents.

Also, roll AV.
>>
bros, I come back and you kill our boy Aurelius.
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>3724542
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>3724542

>>3724545
That 100 fucked us, and taking them both too, but I don't think we would be able to kill them separetly either
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>3724542
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3724542
I will roll for Wound regeneration
>>
In retrospect, there was no chance I might win. But winning wasn't the goal, was it? No, it was to stop them from molesting the girl. Turning their attention to me was the first step of the plan. That worked pretty bloody well, I'd say. What was the next step?

It felt it might have been important.

Auburn eyes. Golden hair.

Not anymore.

I sank onto the ground. One of the swords was still stuck in me. Spite made me hold on to it as I fell to my knees. Someone said, "Let go of my sword, you barbarian!" and kicked my chest. I smiled faintly. To the last, I grapple with thee...
Consciousness fades. There is a scream: "Aurelius!" But that is not my name. I try to speak, but my mouth merely hangs open, frozen in its death-smile. That isn't my name, I repeat insistently. My name was... my name was...

Heavy breathing and a grunt. Fist hitting something soft.

What was my name?

"Aargh! She bit me!"

The winter does an excellent job in keeping the blood pools pristine. If letters had voices, that is what I hear. It is half a mannish voice, with other half being the familiar brush of ink against paper.

One thousand virginal dead in each island.

Hands drag me under the dark cthonic belly of the earth, leaving my body behind to rot. A marriage between celestial and cthonic gods. Dumpling?

What happens to the ritually sacrificed? ...ensure a good harvest.

But I am not here for a sacrifice. I am not even a god. Again, the scribbling letter-voice: ...Heavenly Sovereign... his four daughters...

Whatever is left from my dying brain is trying to tell me something. But that no longer matters, I think. Even the chill of the cold fades.
>>
A dark room, if room this space of shadow can be called. I am not alone. There are a thousand women here. Each and every one bears a mark of swift execution. A cut to the neck, the blood drained out to an external container. They stare at me. There are children here. Some younger than Honey. I see a woman holding hands with a girl who can't be more than five. Mother - no, sister. Virgins, they said.

I am the only man here. Some try to touch me, and dissolve to nothingness.

That starts a stampede. They move as one, all trying to touch me, disappear away. It's terrifying. They are dead. I try to run, but they surround me in every turn. What is this place? Where is my Elysium? Mars, do not forsake your faithful!

Well, alright, I wasn't faithful most of the time, and used your name in vain all the time. But you can't seriously leave me here. I have battled battles, lord, and taken lives, even if not with pleasure. Is that not what you are about? Wars?

I was there, when the Tenth Legion, last of the veteran Trueborns, destroyed half of Alexandria Eskhata. I took part in the decimatio of the civilians by crucifixion. Did the blood spilled that day not satisfy you, lord? The screams! I still hear them. Surely you can, too. So many were sent to you that day.

In the pacification of Khulan, I fought beside the venerable Belisarius. I saved his life when the death commandos of the last Varangian High King ambushed the tents, spinning axes and screaming beards. He was only a legate then, not the commander of multiple legions he is now. He fights in the Golden Gate now. He has gone up the world.

I was there in the expedition to Nanman, when the Emperor ordered the ancient jungles burned to make way for his legionaries. The ensuing blooms of fungal clouds destroyed us, but that was a war in its own way. Many legionaries went to your side that day. Didn't they? Did you not promise a place by your side for your faithful in eternally peaceful Elysium?

Lord?

Ancestor?

The pressing crowd of dead women lessens. The mind's image of their neatly cut throats remain. Like second mouths. Grinning red in the dark. The feeling of cold returns.

I am alone in the cold and dark room, alone with my memories. And it is a personal hell.
>>
>>3724665

Gods damn it, it really is getting cold here. My knees are freezing something serious.

"If you keep resisting, I will have to slit your throat."

I shuddered out a breath. Wiggled my fingers. Then my toes. Finally, my nose. Then I opened my eyes.

"Not the first time you did." The second warrior was putting on armour. My armour. That thing cost me more than a month's wage. "You shithead," I whispered.

"There's no need for name-calling," the first one said. "Different strokes, different folks." Mulberry was on the ground, no longer resisting. "She's done fighting, anyway." My body felt remarkably light. That was because I was unarmoured. But I still had my sword. And one of theirs, because it was still stuck in me.

"I didn't call you names," the second said. He was flapping the face plate on my helm open and close. Close and open.

Both had their backs to the corpse. A demented grin etched my face. Rookie mistake.

I pulled the sword out with care. The gold on my blood seemed more radiant than usual. Probably visual error from the coming back to life bit. Dropping the ensouled sword, I experimentally stepped with best foot forward. Then with the other. I could see Mulberry's face now. Her eyes were glass. No flicker of recognition sparked in her face. As if she saw right through me.

With infinite care and questioning if I had the strength all the while, I raised my gladius over the head of the bastard. It was so heavy. I'd never exerted myself like this before. Not in this life. Hey, I still had a sense of humour.

The man turned from his touchy-feely ways. Maybe he heard something strange in the snow-crunch footsteps of mine. Thought there was an animal behind him, maybe. Unfortunately, it was just me.

"That's my god-daughter you are molesting, you piece of shit."

And there was a satisfying stab.

>Strength of Limb 3d100
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>3724699
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>3724699
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>3724699
We are really shit today at the dice
>>
>>3724706
Dc 80?
Sigh..
>>
Unbelievable
>>
>>3724722
Good run while it lasted
>>
Rolled 6, 9, 50, 87, 20, 79, 3, 80, 65, 87, 32, 17, 78, 57, 33, 22, 82, 94, 88, 29, 32, 14, 61, 48, 70 = 1243 (25d100)

May as well start rolling for the fun of it. 'Cause it doesn't seem to drop soon.
>inb4 all of them are rolls
>>
>>3724706
>>3724711
>>3724717
And then my knees buckled. "Ah, shite." I fell on the snow again.

The other man turned, his hands going to his empty scabbard. That was when he remembered that he'd left his sword pocketed inside me. "You were dead," he said, and there was a bit of fright in the voice. No shame in saying that. I would have been terrified out of my wits if the same thing happened to me.

"Rumours of my death have been," I paused, more to get another breath than for drama, "greatly exaggerated." Break. "Also, your ritual just got fucked. Con-gra-tu-fucking-lations. You killed the son of a divine thingy riiight before you did your princess." I was the last thing you could think of as an imperial princess, and a virgin one at that. I'd lost my V-card a long time ago. And I was a guy.

A man finds little difficulty facing that place within himself where the taking force dwells. Some wiseguy said that. Probably.

"You will die, abomination," he said coldly. He drew the shorter sword of the two. So that thing had a use other than looking pretty, after all.

"Hey, third time's the charm. Don't knock yourself until you've killed me two more times, alright? Now, could you help me up, so we can have a fair fight? No? You're just going to come at me now? Alright. Worth a try."

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Rejuvenated
>Combat = +79DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Prone -20DC]
>Armour Value = 0AV
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)
VS
Bushi Ichi: Dead
Bushi Ni: Battered
>Combat = 72DC [Bruised +0DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled wakizashi +10DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

Personal Combat DC57
>3d100
>>
Shit dudes I'm gonna legit tear up here, fuck

Did we stop the ritual with that semi-death? Were the girl's spirit going away as they touched us?
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>3724751
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>3724751
Wewp, time to derp again! Can we lose more limbs or memories because of this?
>>
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>3724751
>>
>>3724752
Point in the paragraph where it touched you (to make you tear up)
And yes, you basically used up the blood pool battery inadvertently, because of certain qualifications. Imperial blood, semi-divine origin, all that stuff. Except, you were a guy.

Now if you were a girl, the story would have headed an entirely different direction.

But you were a guy.*

*and had sex within the previous 48 hours
>>
>>3724767
>But you were a guy.*
>*and had sex within the previous 48 hours
I would like to thank Hood for being the real MVP. Quest Dice can go suck dick with the chickens.
>>
>>3724767
All the prospect of leaving all behind for aurelius and the girls, those fucking sacrifices

>and had sex within the previous 48 hours
Based Hood has done it again, she xannot stop being awesome
>>
>>3724778
Also, Hood and Aurelius need to learn each others name already, fuck
>>
>>3724773
That moment when you suppress PTSD-filled memories of your partaking in a genocide or three (minimum) successfully and even get married to the girl whose parents you might have killed

and then remember it again after a posthumous experience

:O
>>
Rolled 13, 91 = 104 (2d100)

AV
>>
>>3724756
>>3724758
>>3724765
>2 Success
>Bleed Immune

Muscles screamed. I probably wasn't supposed to do that. Then again, I wasn't supposed to be moving at all. I ached everywhere. Cells that had ceased to function were moving again in a confused torpor. I could just hear the little things now: "Weren't we supposed to rest? What happened to vacation?"

No vacation in Wae islands, little buddy. We do unpaid overtime here.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Rejuvenated
>Combat = +99DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 0AV
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)
VS
Bushi Ichi: Dead
Bushi Ni: Injured
>Combat = 72DC [Injured -5DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

Personal Combat DC72
>3d100
>>
>>3724781
The part where we were in Eskatan was tough to see, wish I hadn't seen it.

The worst part is, will we ever tell her?
>>
>>3724793
I dunno, will you?
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>3724792
wew
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>3724792
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3724792
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

Roll your AV, I'll only do NPC rolls
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>3724812
>>
>>3724812
Wait don't bother, forgot you had no armour on
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>3724812
>>
>>3724817
Might want to clear that up quick on the charts QM.
>>
>>3724815
That linen shirt is very stardy thing
>>
>>3724821
Would've if this stupid 4chan wait-til-your-post-is-posted thing didn't countdown on me
>>
>>3724824
Turns out our blood was much thicker than theirs when applied to cloth.
>>
>>3724826
It's cool QM, just keep the ball rolling with the next post.
>>
>>3724824
>stardy
*sturdy
>>
File: il-kim-wk1-03-copy.jpg (204 KB, 1920x1008)
204 KB
204 KB JPG
>1 Success
>1 Damage dealt and received
>Critical AV Success: Stoneskin
>0 Damage received

"This is against all reason," he said, and in a panicking moment, reverted to his native tongue: "Omae wa mou shindeiru!"

"No use crying for mother," I said, who was a keen linguist and knew that "Oma" often meant mother in many languages. "

"I mean, you are already dead!"

"I try not to think about it. Did you know that positive thinking can visibly affect your health?"

"My sword literally didn't pierce your shirt and I saw hit you!"

"There is no need to go into hysterics." Posthumous humour had its place, but that reminded me of another person who needed me right now. Mulberry was just lying there, staring blankly at the sky. "Let's finish this," I said. He saw that I'd turned serious.

"You are the most insufferable enemy I have ever fought. Most men tend to stay dead."

I remembered a certain night time battle in the Forest. "I guess karma is paying back the debt it owes me."

"You are a funny man, stranger. If you were born in a proper country, you would have made a good samurai."

Eugh. "I'll try to take it as a compliment."

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Rejuvenated
>Combat = +99DC [Rejuvenated +5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 0AV
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)
VS
Bushi Ni: Wounded
>Combat = 67DC [Wounded -5DC, Bloodsworn +20DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Courtly Fighting +5DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Crested kabuto +3DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

Personal Combat DC77
>3d100
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>3724840
BONK!
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>3724840
> "Omae wa mou shindeiru!"
>>
>>3724848
NANI?
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>3724840
>>
Rolled 47, 80 = 127 (2d100)

AV
>>
>>3724842
>>3724848
>>3724850
>2 Success
>Enemy killed


"Hey," I said softly. I'd taken off the dead warriors' cloaks and wrapped her up in it. "Mulberry. It's me."

"Chief?" I gripped my fingers tight. Her voice... it was so old. The thousand-yard stare that I'd seen from Eskhatan civilians that night was there. Eyes like painted porcelain, blank and unresponsive. "It's cold."

"It is, isn't it?" I agreed. I am not a good conversationalist.

"I saw you die, though. They stabbed you. So many times. Again and again and, again. And you just... fell there, when I called."

I brushed the hair that had fallen over her eyes. "Came back from the dead. I am cursed. Remember?"

She gulped. The next words were not coming out.

Oh, Mars, god of my ancestors. I curse you to the bitter end. In my moment of weakness I called upon you, and I shamed myself in doing so.

What you do to children is not right. The Spartiates of old made sport of childrens' lives, and perished for it, their population dwindling to nothing. These young vessels yet unformed are not meant to experience the more cruel sides of war. There is glory and honour in spades, yes, and loot as well. I am a Companyman. How could I not see that? We fight willingly against those who raise their swords. An arrow, for an arrow. Soldiers against soldiers.

But children!

Our act of violence begets violence, and is inherited by successive generations. Must Hood live in such a world?

"I'm sorry." That was all I could say. Sorry for bringing you to Wae. Sorry for exposing you to all... this. Sorry for dying on you, and not coming back. I hugged her tightly, and was surprised by how small she was. This was the girl who almost killed me. Beneath her bratty exterior was another child. Just a child. A fucking child.

"We should be going back," she said. Some strength was returning to her voice, colouring it with her old determination. But there was a heartwrenching hollowness to it. A brave front.

>"I'm sorry," I continued to whisper. The ritual was already stopped, at least in this island. Hood would be returning soon, looking for us. I kept rocking her, back and forth. Like I did, all those centuries ago, when I'd had my first daughter.

>"Can you walk?" She nodded. Trevain's daughter to the T, alright. "Then let's meet up with the rest."
>>
>>3724886
>"Can you walk?" She nodded. Trevain's daughter to the T, alright. "Then let's meet up with the rest."
We're sadly not out of the metaphorical woods yet.
>>
>>3724886

>"I'm sorry," I continued to whisper. The ritual was already stopped, at least in this island. Hood would be returning soon, looking for us. I kept rocking her, back and forth. Like I did, all those centuries ago, when I'd had my first daughter.
>>
>>3724886
Wait a second. Could we carry Mulberry back and sing her a little lullaby? Or do we barely have enough strength to keep ourselves up?
>>
>>3724900
If that is an option I'm all for it
>>
>>3724886
>"Can you walk?" She nodded. Trevain's daughter to the T, alright. "Then let's meet up with the rest."

I think she would resent being babied.
>>
By the way OP, did the pedorai, uh, get it in? I just want to know how badly we failed Trevain in this.
>>
>>3724886
>>"Can you walk?" She nodded. Trevain's daughter to the T, alright. "Then let's meet up with the rest."
>>
>>3725092
babied? dude, she's a kid that got raped, what the fuck?
>>
>>3725110
Yeah, and so Im sure what she really needs right now is close physical contact.
>>
>>3725112
I'm sure it isn't
"tough luck kid, let's bounce"
>>
>>3725117
God I am so sick of moralfags. We are NOT safe here, this is not the time for this. Do you want us dead and her raped again?
>>
>>3725124
moralfag? where did you get that? I want to carry the kid not stay around, but fuck it dude, you do you and I do me, that's how quests work
>>
>>3725124
Do I count as as a moralfag too?
>>
>>3725144
Nah, you didnt go in on moral outrage over someone's choices on a fucking quest.
>>
>>3725174
Damn it, I need to up my game.
>>
>>3724886
>im sorry
>>
>>3724886
>"I'm sorry," I continued to whisper. The ritual was already stopped, at least in this island. Hood would be returning soon, looking for us. I kept rocking her, back and forth. Like I did, all those centuries ago, when I'd had my first daughter.

I want those flashbacks damnit
>>
>>3724886
>>"I'm sorry," I continued to whisper. The ritual was already stopped, at least in this island. Hood would be returning soon, looking for us. I kept rocking her, back and forth. Like I did, all those centuries ago, when I'd had my first daughter.
>>
>>3725094
You were out of it for a not-insignificant amount of time. Enough for one of the warriors to strip you of your plate and start trying them on.
>>
>>3724892
>>3725522
>>3725541
>>3725293
>>"I'm sorry," I continued to whisper. The ritual was already stopped, at least in this island. Hood would be returning soon, looking for us. I kept rocking her, back and forth. Like I did, all those centuries ago, when I'd had my first daughter.

When Hood and the others had found us by tracing the smell of the not-blood, Mulberry was asleep.

---

I wished we had a female scrivener. But it was just me. Literate women are even rarer than literate men. And nearly all of them tend to be trophy wives or oracles or something equally bizarre.

Mulberry was not going to like being touched for a while. So I gave her two tinctures - one to sleep with, the other to forget. It shouldn't surprise you to learn that drinks for sleep and obliviation are popular among men who kill for money. They came handy here while I cleaned and dressed her wounds.

You don't really forget, not really. That I'd remembered my participation in the Eskhatan business was proof of that. But it kept them down, most of the time. Let you act like a human being.

"Why can't you be a girl?" I said to Lee as we cleaned bandages and dosed out medicines for the wounded back in the watchtower. Half of those were for me. I looked fucking terrible, like something the grave spat out.

"Er," he said.

"I don't believe it," I muttered.

"I didn't know you let girls in," Lee said timidly. "And after that, I... was swept up with the whole fighting thing?"

"You could have said. You could have been the one to... clean Mulberry's wounds."

"I'm not really that good at the medicine bits!" she said defensively. "Look, writing and reading is part of the job, right? I got that down. Besides, I'm still just an assistant."

Literate women were rarer than dragons. "What did you do?" I couldn't help myself.

"If you have to know, I pretended to be a man and ran from home," she said simply.

"Don't tell me it was for the erotic-"

"No!" Well, she had the sense not to partake in the comedy routine that is life. "Forced marriage."

Arranged marriages. Aren't they wonderful? "Old man with very handsy palms, I'm guessing."

"He was a childhood friend," she said quietly.

"Ugly?"

"Better looking than you," she said scathingly.

I shrugged. "Not really a high bar there."

"You are the one with three wives."

"And they're blind as a bat," I said. "I mean, look at me."

"I can see well enough, thank you," Dumpling said as she entered the scrivener zone.

"Watch the glass! And don't touch anything. That's fermented urine. Good for cleaning things with, but terrible smell," I explained to Lee, who looked horrified. "You ever want your teeth whitened, come to me."
>>
>>3725634

"We need to talk about this morning," Dumpling said. Bam, dropped the hammer. She was fidgeting. That was never good. Fidgeting meant she was unsure of herself. Usually it was resolved with a triplet-vote, but ever since Sybil died, that hadn't worked out so well. And now Morion was not even here. "The ritual site was drained."

"Mm."

"I know you weren't there, helping Mulberry. I just thought you should know. There was no magic at all. The priests were confounded."

"Hmm."

"You smell different," she said. So that was it.

"I'm not possessed." Well, that's what someone who was possessed would say. But I wasn't. "I... died."

Dumpling ran to me with a light pomf. I forget sometimes how short she is. Her head only came up to my chest. She is Ensorcelled, an individual with a bright enough soul to dip the waters from the sea of souls to make reality bend between her fingertips - with some exertion. She ages... slower, and it takes a lot for her kind to die.

Her kind. I was subconsciously separating herself from "my" kind again. Was I any different? Mutants and freaks, the both of us. I think that was what made us become friends, those long months ago when I was simply a trooper.

"I thought I smelled blood," she said. Lee quietly skedaddled to let me have my private display of affection. "Oh, Aureilus. You should have brought some of us with you. You don't have to die for everyone."

"That's me," I said jokingly. "Aurelius the scabbard." Funny how things turn out. I never intend to die. I wasn't some suicide-pacting Captain. But things conspired in such a way to make me almost-die. And on this occasion, I had died.

I really did die then. And I was brought back by ritual blood.

"You're not possessed," Dumpling whispered. "I checked."

"Thank you." I knew that magic was very draining for her. Even now, as she held me with a desperation that sought to comfort herself that I was still here, her arms were weak. I could have easily slid out of her hug. "I appreciate it." Would I have known if I was possessed? Probably not. Very useful thing, to have a sorceress wife.

"You smell different though."

"Different enough that you wouldn't want to do this?" I kissed her lightly on the lips, and saw tearing eyes.

"Just don't throw yourself away like that next time," she sniffed, though a smile appeared. "There are people who depend on you now. You have... a family."

What can man say against such words. "I'll try not to die," I said. No one could guarantee more than that.
>>
>>3725652
---

"So. We fucked up with being stealthy and gathering intelligence," I said, ever the optimist. "But, we also avoided a catastrophic storm that would have made invading the Wae islands impossible. I think we've done pretty well, considering."

"The other three islands are likely invulnerable by now," Fox said. Unlike me, he'd been studying what few maps we'd scrounged. The one in the watchtower was the most valuable of them all. It showed us the coastline. "Based on the information that Scrivener Lee, Recruit Mulberry, and Sergeant Aurelius gathered, we can assume that this is Honshu. The main island." He was better at this officer thing than I was. "This means we are capable of striking the capital."

Lee also saw the bad in that. "It also means that this is the island with the most soldiers. It'll be bloody."

"Better that we get a crack at the biggest island without interference from the others," I replied. "Storms don't discriminate. No one will be able to get in or out of the other three islands." In other words, not great, but not terrible.

"The locals will begin to question why the carter who supplies this watchtower is not returning," Hood said. "There is also a changing of the guard probably planned out sometime soon. Our stay here has an expiration date."

A plan of action was drafted.

>We would do the traditional Ranger business, which was strike from the shadows and hit high-value targets while waiting for the main force to arrive. I would miss the watchtower. It provided us warmth and a good store of food. I sent my corporal along with a rower to be debriefed by Captain.

>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.
>>
>>3725653
>>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.
>>
>>3725653

>We would do the traditional Ranger business, which was strike from the shadows and hit high-value targets while waiting for the main force to arrive. I would miss the watchtower. It provided us warmth and a good store of food. I sent my corporal along with a rower to be debriefed by Captain.
Send Mullbery along to help her row or something
>>
>>3725653

>>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.
>>
>>3725653
>>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.
>>
>>3725653
>>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.
>>
qm question:
>Like I did, all those centuries ago
we stayed married with our -ex for 50 some years right?
is this a kid from before that marriage or did you meant decades ago?
>>
>>3725698
Gradually, anon. Gradually. Totally had some Capital-based exposition ready in case anons voted Capital, but that's for another time
>>
>>3725653
>>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.
>>
>>3725717
I guess we'll have to visit the capital sometime with our unfortunate blind triplets that have their eyes covered whenever they are in public
>>
>>3725656
>>3725676
>>3725687
>>3725697
>>3725775
>>"We're returning to the main fleet." I had a hell of a debriefing to give to Captain. After that, we would rest and re-arm in preparation for the first offensive.

-----

"A wild story, as ever." Captain's calculating Coin was a wonderful respite from all the Sinaean and Wae-dialect that my ears had been filled with. The first language I ever learned was High Imperial, but Coin was the common speech among the servants in the Capital. For every sentence in Imperial, entire paragraphs were spoken in the tradesmen's tongue. "I believe it."

"I know it sounds crazy, but I also have the letters as proof- what?"

"I said, I believe you. You attract strange phenomena, sergeant." Ah. A little bit of council intrigue must have been forming up against my report. Captain was stamping my words with her approval. The grandmaster of the Bluebloods made his displeasure known without even twitching a facial muscle. Nobles are very good at radiating such things.

"So, we are clear to assault Honshu, you say?" the Prefect did not look jolly at all in the relative privacy of the war council. A political pretense? Men expect fat people to be happy-go-lucky. This man looked ready to play stab-your-aunt. It is useful to appear happy. Happy men do not scheme. He grunted approvingly as he leafed through the pages upon pages of letters I presented. "This will be invaluable in forming an idea of how the enemy thinks. You have our gratitude, sergeant."

I deadpanned. It wasn't me who did it, but Chatal, who had seen that we'd fucked subtlety over the horizon with the assault against the nobleman. He had gathered whatever he could grab while I was going through an episode of introspection. But they wouldn't care about me wasting time about those little details. So I simply said, "Thank you, sir."

"Very capable, our Aurelius," Captain said.

Caution crept into my voice. "Up to a point."

"A man who can make sound decisions," the prefect agreed mildly. That is how I knew I was cornered. "You remember the layout of this Ginzan place? Incidentally, Ginzan means 'silver mine'. Very literal, these Waelanders."

"I'm sure I can find my way around it," I replied.

"A stormtrooper platoon and five platoons of Company infantrymen will accompany you to occupy the city," Captain said. "Sergeant Rainard of the stormtroopers will be in command. We don't want looting or civil disturbances, which is why the Militia is not involved."

The Overcommander of the People's Militia shrugged. "Most of our men will be in the main thrust in the south to try getting at Kyoto. After we capture their king, the rest are bound to surrender."
>>
>>3725948

Captain was not so optimistic. "The real threat is the Shogun, not his puppet-king."

"I am the one with the army, Captain. Let men fight their wars, while your thugs fight the battles."

"This is a cooperative effort," the prefect cut in like a glacier, stopping the fight. "I think you should take more than just Company men for this. Grandmaster Liu?"

Liu was an old dynastic name, one of the few that had ruled a coherent empire before the Empire rolled over everyone else. And that meant nobility. "The Brotherhood will be able to spare some men from our northern initiative," he said reluctantly. He glared at me. "But they will not submit to Company chain of command."

"Very good," the prefect said. Politics is the saying of that which is not in one's mind. "I do want that silver mine. As important as taking their capital is, disruption to their economy is a good secondary objective. Overcommander, please see to sparing a few hundred men."

Now it was Captain's turn to fume. "I hardly think countryside bumpkins-"

"-will provide men who can relieve the watch and patrol the streets," the prefect said smoothly. This Sima man was not the fool he liked to pretend to be in public. He wasn't even using his booming voice. "As I said, we're all in this together. It is high time we learned how to fight together. Commandant Yue, do you have objections to sending two squads for Ginzan?"

The man shook his head. "None whatsoever. It will do them good to get some large-scale warfare experience." His eyes turned to me. I wish they hadn't. They looked like the eyes of dead fish, cold and clammy. "Best of luck to you, sergeant."

---

At least I didn't have to row this time.

Three ships crashed into the familiar beaches where the watchtowers were. We encountered no resistance. The watchmen were there to alert the city, not make a valiant last stand. Companymen ran out with speed and precision, wary of a counterattack from the heavily forested innerlands. There was none. Marchers came out next, looking rather uneasy. They weren't used to all-out wars. Most of their battle experience was with burning out bandit dens and small-time skirmishes. The Banded Brotherhood did their own thing. I hardly cared.

"They can't even walk," I said with a quiet despondency as we watched Militiamen drunkenly stagger out of the ships before emptying the contents of their stomachs. The landing beach reeked.

"Enough lollygagging," Sergeant Rainard snapped, bringing my focus back to the hastily set up war table. Rainard was a no-nonsense type of an officer, with an understated mustache that was nowhere as magnificent as the owner would like it to be. "You know what your orders are, Sergeant Aurelius. Get to it."
>>
>>3725950

>My platoon's order was to clear out the coastal watchtowers, one by one. We were being assisted in this with ten Marchers, led by a squad leader named Hanlon.

>We were ordered by Rainard to take point in our attack against Iwari-Ginzan, which we so recently evacuated from. In other words, right in the thick of it with Militiamen as our backup.
>>
>>3725953
>>My platoon's order was to clear out the coastal watchtowers, one by one. We were being assisted in this with ten Marchers, led by a squad leader named Hanlon.

looks like new recruits to me!
>>
>>3725953

>We were ordered by Rainard to take point in our attack against Iwari-Ginzan, which we so recently evacuated from. In other words, right in the thick of it with Militiamen as our backup.

I imagine we will do key attacks while the militia handles the rabble
Sounds like important business and a chance to fuck up those pedo bastards
>>
>>3725953

>We were ordered by Rainard to take point in our attack against Iwari-Ginzan, which we so recently evacuated from. In other words, right in the thick of it with Militiamen as our backup.

Is all the company in this attack? Will Shamaness also be around?
>>
>>3725982
Only six companies (gen. infantry/stormtroopers) are involved here, rest will be attacking various coastlines but concentrated against Kyoto

Shamaness is with Captain because it's very useful to have sorcerers around

>>3725966
Not all samurai are pedos, but cultural acceptance of pederasty is not unusual (not unlike Greeks)
>>
>>3726012
I'll change then, seems like this assignment is more appropriate for us


>My platoon's order was to clear out the coastal watchtowers, one by one. We were being assisted in this with ten Marchers, led by a squad leader named Hanlon.
>>
>>3726017
No, wait

I go back to my previous vote.

>We were ordered by Rainard to take point in our attack against Iwari-Ginzan, which we so recently evacuated from. In other words, right in the thick of it with Militiamen as our backup.

Maybe we will cross Suenaga or the proncess, and maybe attack some important parts

As you can see I'm conflicted lol
>>
>>3725953
>We were ordered by Rainard to take point in our attack against Iwari-Ginzan, which we so recently evacuated from. In other words, right in the thick of it with Militiamen as our backup
>>
>We were ordered by Rainard to take point in our attack against Iwari-Ginzan, which we so recently evacuated from. In other words, right in the thick of it with Militiamen as our backup.

Captain Xuan had been a village guard before joining the Militia. He was the kind of man who prodded a few petty criminals for appearances, made his rounds in the bright lit parts of town, and generally fucked right off when real problems arose. I got that. It's hard enough making a living in this economy. Police constables aren't well-paid and their medical insurance rates are at a premium on account of their occupational hazards.

"I totally get it," I told him. "But I can't have you lagging back. I need to know you will send your men forward when we're contacted by the enemy." Was everywhere in the city like this? Militiamen unwilling to face actual combat being coerced into shaking their spears? It would have been simpler if it was just one hundred Companymen. We could have easily conquered this place. It was going to be harder now. Twenty had died breaching the gate that could have been simply ignored, all of them militiamen.

"The Prefect does not seem to want us being the primary combat group," Lieutenant had said when he took me aside for a chat before sending us off.

"He doesn't want to overly rely on one Company." Monopolies upset the balance.

"That, and he needs the Militia to be actually effective. This is in a way their training ground." But to expect Black Companymen to just whip them up to shape like that? The old man was asking for miracles. There would be hundreds of allied dead before the day was over.

Captain Xuan nodded grimly. He was craven, not stupid. And he knew that the more people there were assisting us, the less people there would be in the long run stabbing at them. "We'll be right behind you, sergeant. Just make sure you find the way." How trustworthy the man was, was something we would find out in short order.

We sped through the streets of Iwari-Ginzan, remembering some of the landmarks. We weren't headed to the temple. That was easy enough to see. Other groups would take care of that.

>What we were targeting was the high-end inn that the three of us had spent time in.
My reasoning was this: the Bushi were warrior-noble caste, emphasis on noble. They wouldn't want to stay in some any old building. Samurai such as they are primarily trained in mounted warfare and archery. So burn the stable, kill the horses. That will clip their wings.

>We were running toward the military garrison, where the magistrate had ruled and, quite recently, was executed in.
It was the headquarters of the city watch. I remembered them being fairly unimpressive in terms of gear and discipline, but they could still do a lot of damage by virtue of numbers. Captain Xuan had fifty-ish men with him. I wondered how they would fare against each other.
>>
>>3726118
>>What we were targeting was the high-end inn that the three of us had spent time in.
>My reasoning was this: the Bushi were warrior-noble caste, emphasis on noble. They wouldn't want to stay in some any old building. Samurai such as they are primarily trained in mounted warfare and archery. So burn the stable, kill the horses. That will clip their wings.
>>
>>3726118
Hmm quantity or quality eh?

>What we were targeting was the high-end inn that the three of us had spent time in.
>My reasoning was this: the Bushi were warrior-noble caste, emphasis on noble. They wouldn't want to stay in some any old building. Samurai such as they are primarily trained in mounted warfare and archery. So burn the stable, kill the horses. That will clip their wings.
>>
>>3726118
>We were running toward the military garrison, where the magistrate had ruled and, quite recently, was executed in.

The samurai will butcher our militia, and likely hold out till their own arrive. This is the better option, destroy the weaker force and fall upon the stronger after. Defeat in detail.
>>
>>3726118

>We were running toward the military garrison, where the magistrate had ruled and, quite recently, was executed in.
It was the headquarters of the city watch. I remembered them being fairly unimpressive in terms of gear and discipline, but they could still do a lot of damage by virtue of numbers. Captain Xuan had fifty-ish men with him. I wondered how they would fare against each other
>>
>>3726118
>We were running toward the military garrison, where the magistrate had ruled and, quite recently, was executed in.
Gotta remove the minions before you take the bosses on.
>>
>>3726118


>We were running toward the military garrison, where the magistrate had ruled and, quite recently, was executed in.
>>
>>3726242
Numbers always help
>>
>>3726214
>>3726233
>>3726242
>>3726250
>>What we were targeting was the high-end inn that the three of us had spent time in.
>My reasoning was this: the Bushi were warrior-noble caste, emphasis on noble. They wouldn't want to stay in some any old building. Samurai such as they are primarily trained in mounted warfare and archery. So burn the stable, kill the horses. That will clip their wings.

The entire city was a battlefield. I could hear the occasional screams, then the sound for forward march. Fire burned in places and brought momentary bursts of strong scents, burning blood and fumes from flesh.

"Just like Luoyang, isn't it?" I said.

Dumpling nodded. "Like we never left." I half expected Theophilos to say something there for a moment. But he wasn't here now. He would be with the other brothers in their siege of Kyoto. And Sergeant wasn't leading us. That dampened my spirits a little.

"Maze upon maze," Chatal grumbled. "I do not like cities. They have too many walls. I would destroy them and make a grazing field for the horses."

"No destroying and no looting," I said firmly. The natives hated us enough for being outsiders. I didn't need riots on my hand after we conquered the city. We sped through the thoroughways now emptied of traffic, the only sign of healthy human habitation being smashed crates and minute items dropped in their hurry to hide in the illusionary safety of their homes. We ignored them all. Only the objective mattered. There, guarding the entrance to the ryokan was a group of armed warriors. And they did not look surprised to see us.

"Foreigners," the foremost among their number said with voice of velvet. "Do you wish to send a champion to fight one of ours, or will you fight like beasts who outnumber men?"

Suave motherfucker. "Captain Xuan, charge."

"Are you sure, sergeant? We might be able to avoid loss of lives if-"

I looked back, astonished at the man. He thought you could talk to people in the middle of battle. "Fucking kill them!" I shouted with exasperation.

---

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +101DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)
>>
>>3726321

Black Company Ranger Squad "Gladius"
Corporal Hood | Sorcerer Dumpling | Trooper-Scrivener Lee | Trooper Fox | Recruit Mulberry | Scout Chatal
[7/7 Discipline]
Mass Combat = +10DC [Veterans +10DC, Experienced +5DC, Well-Equipped +5DC Elite (Rangers) +5DC]

People's Militia Rabble
[5/5 Discipline]
Mass Combat = +6DC [Green -5DC, Decent Equipment +2DC, Captain Xuan +5DC, Superior Numbers +4DC]

>+16DC

VS

Magistrate Guards - [10]
[5/5] Discipline
Mass Combat = +12DC [Green -5DC, Adequate Equipment +1DC, Zealots +6DC, Samurai Leader +10DC]

>+12DC

[Rough Notes]
* Each Degree of Failure results in a point loss of Discipline. Low Discipline is not good for prolonged combat. Once it reaches 1, the group will have to roll for morale break. 0 is game over, man.
* Every -5 from the threshhold DC results in friendly CASUALTY, non-Squad allies first.
* Every Doubles Fail will result in Personal Squad CASUALTY.
* Combat is separated between PERSONAL and SQUAD (turns out platoons are led by Lieutenants, fuuuuck me. Too late to retcon so let's just pretend there have been Lieutenants all along in the plural and the Lieutenant is First Lieutenant instead. Work with me, here.)
* These things are mishmashed from Forgotten QM's excellent Black Company Quest. Go read them. They're better than mine. And yes, I did ask for permission years ago, though I imagine he's forgotten (hehehe) about me by now.
* This is a completely untested squad mechanic with some bells and whistles. Hopefully it works.
* I don't have Orders prepared yet. But that doesn't mean they aren't coming. Neither does it mean they are coming.

Confirmed casualty, if happening in-squad, will result firstly in a roll to determine who in your squad is affected (3d[number of people in squad]) with players' choice. And then comes the Effects table.

1. Just a Scratch.
2. Walking Wounded.
3. Walking Wounded.
4. Maimed.
5. Maimed.
6. Death.
7. Death.
8. Worse than Death. Say hello to Jokk!

---

VOTE

(1) Opponent
>Engage Samurai Leader
>Dive into the fight (random)

(2) Weapon of Choice
>Gladius Hispaniensis
>Javelin (1-use, Free Attack) (x3)
>>
>>3726321
Instead of ryokan, it should say magistracy. When I was boiling my brains over the squad combat mechanics the bushi option was winning.
>>
>>3726338
>Engage Samurai Leader

Can we transfer members of the squad to personal combat to help us take out the leader?

>Javelin (1-use, Free Attack) (x3)
Chatal and Hood with us fuck the leader up with bows
>>
>>3726347
Good input, the issue is of course that the blueprint I'm working off is of a stormtrooper (well, stormtrooper equivalent) platoon, which standardises weapons. Rangers are a different beast altogether with very different weapons specialisations. Maybe I shoulda nae done that when I wrote stuff up, but such is life. I'm thinking of standardising them as attacks as far as squad mechanics are concerned.

It's difficult to bow and arrow in the middle of combat from my understanding. Nothing like Hawkeye stuff. So if you want to plunge into melee, they won't be able to assist you with ranged weapons.
>>
>>3726347
Don't hesitate to put suggestions, might be useful for Orders. Like "To Me!" for squad mates to join personal combat. Very good idea. But I won't apply it this turn, will have to fit it in in the later turns.
>>
>>3726356
Either way, I say we engage the leader and throw a javeling while closing the distance to melee, standard legionarry stuff

I say to engage the leader because he gives a +10 to his troops that would be good to deny
>>
>>3726359
An order could be the legionary tactic of showering with havelins while charging if everyone in the squad have them, giving a squad free attack before engaging

The to me to get some people on personal combat would be good

Or if we have mixed weapons in we could add a bonus to attack given by those with ranged firing from the back but a high probability of casualty for those on the front row compared to those on the back

Just some ideas
>>
>>3726359
Oh, and something you should have in mind is Dumpling spells too, we could order something specific, like a flash to reduce enemy DC, or witch fire to increase ours or some other shennenigan she could pull off

Another thing, to have a slightly different casualty tavle for those with alexandrian blood or ensorceled since they are harder to kill so the "death" should have a smaller chance
>>
>>3726361
Support
>>
>>3726361
Worked for a thousand years or so, I see no reason to change. Support.
>>
I need to rest for today, been feeling hints of illness
See you tomorrow
>>
>>3726428
See ya Tyche, thanks for running
>>
>>3726338
Tyche, I know you must be tired and sorry for pointing it out, but our platoon's bonuses amount to +25 and not +10
>>
>>3726338
Engage Samurai Leader

Javelin (1-use, Free Attack) (x3) try to get one off then sword time
>>
>>3726359
Could Fox tag team with us? Y'know as former legionaries both
>>
Revised Personal & Squad Dice System
The Players will only roll for the MC and their personal squad, all other NPC rolls will be done by QM. Tried incorporating the absolute clusterfuck that is the Militia but it hindered smooth gameplay (in my inexperienced system-designing opinion) and wasn't really something that players would feel stakes about, anyway. The general progress of battle in regards to the whole ebb and flow of it with all its combatants beyond the squad and the MC itself will be represented in a separate Battle Progress Roll, which I looted from Forgotten's current questline. Battle Progress Roll will also influence how outnumbered the MC and the Squad is in the immediate battlefield.

Apologies for asking for you to vote again, but the system's been significantly redrafted.

-=-

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +101DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)


(1) Opponent
>Samurai Leader
>Dive into the Fight (Easy [1 opponent]/Medium[3]/Difficult[5]/Suicidal[7])

(2) Weapon of Choice
>Gladius Hispaniensis
>Javelin [x3] (1-use per battle) (Legionarius: Free Attack)
Javelin locked from previous vote

(3) Prayer to Those On High (offered in the beginning of battle, cannot be changed until the battle's end)
>Mars Invictus! [Legionarius]
The dreaded Red Star has never left the skies ever since the Emperor conquered the lands. Veteran legionaries pray to their martial god by wounding themselves before particularly fierce battles in an act of devotio.
Martial Valour = 1 Wound is self-inflicted, +1d10 to Squad Combat DC

>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
More than a man, less than a god. He was general and warrior, brute and scholar both. Dead though he may be, his actions linger on to affect the world in myriad ways...
Survivor = Extra die for Divine Constitution


(4) Leadership Abilities (-10 Personal DC each command, can issue multiple)
>To Me!
Designate up to 2 Squad personnel to join your Personal fight
>Blind the Enemy
Dumpling concentrates to summon a burst of witchfire that lingers for 1d3 Turns, reducing Foe DC by 1d5. While maintaining the witchfire, Dumpling is out of the fight.
>Not Today, Brother
When Squad takes casualty, take the damage from in the stead of one squad member (needs to be active before the turn's attacks, cannot retroactively affect for previous turns)
>>
>>3727556
This is the Personal Combat, and will take place prior to Squad Combat rolls, because what happens here will affect the latter. After those two votes have been made, there will be a Battle Progress vote (which I haven't fully mapped out yet) that will take into account the background fighting.

Hopefully this can be interesting.
>>
>>3726468
Don't be sorry! I've completely changed some things so the above thing is no longer up to date, but do keep an eye out for discrepancies in the numbers where I may have forgotten to total up properly.

>>3727302
Yep
>>
>>3727556
(1) Opponent
>Samurai Leader
(2) Weapon of Choice
>Gladius Hispaniensis
(3) Prayer to Those On High
>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
No Leadership Abilities for now
>>
>>3727558
Ok,

Since our divine constitution has increased I say we activate the Mar's blessing
For orders, let's start with a
To Me!
Bring Hood and Mallberry with us to finish off the leader to try and break their squad quickly
Left some good dudes there so they can hold their own
>>
>>3727566
The target is the leader and the weapon is javelin as we charge and then gladius
>>
>>3727556
as a suggestion, you could make the militia give our squad a bonus to DC since they could count as numbers in our favor

>>3727566
>>3727567
supporting
but I want the >Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir] instead
if we finish the leader off quickly with their help we won't need the bonus for the squad while the extra healing would be useful to save squad people
>>
>>3727556
>Samurai Leader
>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>>
>>3727568
I've completely changed the Squad Combat section, will demonstrate once that turn comes up
>>
>>3727570
Did you want to use a leadership ability?
>>
>>3727556
1 samurai leader

2 javelin + gladius

3 Mars Invictus!

4 To Me!
Hood
Mulberry
>>
>>3727589
And now the Prayer is on tie, welp
>>
>>3727591
it isn't
it's 3 for vault
>>3727565
>>3727568
>>3727570

and 2 for mars
>>3727566
>>3727589
>>
>>3727593
Oh you're right, time to get the rolls started, thanks for that. Using this >>3727565 anon's format would be helpful since it's pretty neat and ordered!
>>
>>3727595
Do we roll or wait for the DC post?
>>
>Traget: Samurai Leader used To Me!
Three Ashigaru added to Personal Combat
>Weapons
Javelin (FA), Gladius
>Prayer to Those On High
Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>Commands Active
To Me! (Mulberry, Hood)

People I cared about might die today. There was no half-arsing things. "Hood! Mulberry! To me!" I shouted through the din of battle already begun in other parts of the city. She fell in without a sound. Mulberry came a split second later, sluggish. The effect of memory-affecting drugs, I'm afraid. It would soon pass.

And with it, I hoped, the memories.

I pointed at the lone samurai amidst the Waelandish light infantrymen, conscripts and town guards who were slightly more competent than the militiamen. "Chop the head."

"And the body follows," Hood ended, taking out her knives.

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Rejuvenated
>Personal Combat = +124DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Leadership Ability -10DC, Hood +20DC, Mulberry +13DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)

VS
Shenzou Abe, Bakufu samurai: Healthy
Hotokeki, baker, ashigaru: Healthy
Ryokucha, teashop owner, ashigaru: Healthy
Pankeki, son of Hotokeki, ashigaru: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +89DC [Healthy +5DC, Bloodsworn +10DC, Heavenly Sovereign's Rescript to Fight Against Barbarians +2DC, Embattled Veteran +7DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Fashionable Kabuto +3DC, Leadership Ability -10DC, Hotokeki +9DC, Ryokucha +9DC, Pankeki +12DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

>Throwing of the Pila DC50
>1d100 (counts as +1 Success if pass, no such thing as 4 Success however)
>Personal Combat DC87
>3d100

PERSONAL COMBAT ROLL:
1 Success = 1 Wound dealt and received
2 Success = 2 Wounds dealt
3 Success = 3 Wounds dealt
0 Success = 3 Wounds received
Doubles Fail Critical = Disarmed/other consequences
Critical Failure = Maim Table Roll
Doubles Success Critical = Disarm/other consequences
Critical Success = Killing Blow, +2DC to Battle Progress
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>3727598
Let's do this

Rolling for Jav
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>3727598
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>3727598
Combat!
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>3727598
>>
Rolled 4, 5, 5 = 14 (3d7)

>>3727600
>>3727601
>>3727602
>>3727606
>Javelin miss
>2 Success x3 Fighters = 6 Wounds inflicted!
>Shenzou Abe, bakufu samurai is Injured!
>Hotokeki, ashigaru is Battered!
>Ryokucha, teashop owner is Injured!
>Pankeki, ashigaru is Battered!

Hood covered my left, weaving in and out with her dual daggers to face off a father-and-son duo while Mulberry takes care of another conscript to my right. This left me with the samurai. He was unfazed by the odds that was overwhelmingly against him. "You may kill us today, but the Heavenly Sovereign will judge you in the end, foreigner," he rasped without even wincing as I bashed his head with my buckler while parrying his sword. "It is you who are the invaders, not us."

I didn't answer. Pacing yourself in combat is hard enough without moralising.

-=-

Black Company Ranger Squad "Gladius"
[7/7 Discipline]
[Veterans +5, Experienced +1, Well-Equipped +4, Elite (Rangers) +2] = Baseline 12
Sorceress Dumpling 1d12+1
Trooper-Scrivener Lee 1d12+1
Trooper Fox 1d12+5
Scout Chatal 1d12+4
Squad DC = 4d12 [+11]

VS

Magistrate Guards
Guardsmen x3
[5/5] Discipline
[Green -3, Adequate Equipment +1DC, Zealots +4DC, Samurai Leadership +5DC] = Baseline 7
3d7

Best of Three
>4d12

SQUAD COMBAT ROLL:
in addition to casualties infliced by double failes and critical failes:
1 DoS (Degree of Success, measured by the Tenth) = 1 Casualty, -1 Foe and Friendly Discipline
2 DoS = 0 Casualty, 1 Friendly Discipline, -2 Foe Discipline
3 DoS = 0 Casualty, -3 Foe Discipline, (Personal Combat DC buff)
0 DoS = 2 Casualties, -2 Friendly Discipline, Shaken (Discipline roll to prevent another -1 Discipline)
Doubles Crit Fail = Automatic Allied Casualty
Critical Fail = Automatic -1 Allied Discipline, Personal Squad Casualty
Doubles Crit Successs = Automatic -1 Foe Discipline
Critical Success = Foe Routed
[NOTE: -5 from Treshhold DC resulting in Casualty is scrapped]
>>
Rolled 12 (1d12)

>>3727621
>>
>>3727623
You can roll 4d12 here, need bo3 from three 4d12 attempts for the Squad Combat DC modifier
>>
Rolled 3, 6, 7, 2 = 18 (4d12)

>>3727624
Got it
>>
Rolled 8, 12, 11, 4 = 35 (4d12)

>>3727621
>>
Rolled 3, 4, 8, 1 = 16 (4d12)

>>3727621
>>
Rolled 7, 6, 9, 4 = 26 (4d12)

>>3727621
Don't die Dumps
>>
>>3727626
Hmm, I think I might scrap dynamic squad dice and go with static instead with next turn, giving them flat 12s as base instead of making rolls for it. This adds too much clutter with dicing.

>Squad Combat DC82
>3d100
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>3727632
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>3727632
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>3727632
>>
>>3727637
....Really?
Dice have been cursed the entire quest.
>>
>>3727637
oh fuck, does the gladius reroll works here?

I never roll 100s when is roll high for fuck sake
>>
>>3727639
worst thing is, I had rolled really well up here>>3727626 and now that the thing got scrapped I 100ed myself
>>
>>3727640
Squad Combat, so no ahahahahahahaha
Right, let's get to rolling. Three 1d4s please, 1 = Dumpling, 2 = Lee, etc you get the idea
>>
Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>3727642
>>
Rolled 1 (1d4)

>>3727642
it's 3 rolls and we choose like you stated here right?>>3726338
>>
Rolled 3 (1d4)

>>3727642
>>
Rolled 3 (1d4)

>>3727642
Does the other 2 success still count to damage the other squad?
>>
>>3727645
>>3727646
>>3727647
Yes. Who would you like to put on the chopping block? Dumpling, Lee, or Fox?
>>
>>3727649
fox
>>
>>3727649
Fox. Sorry pal
>>
>>3727649
Fox, don't really know him that well

We need to get more people to our squad, too many of them we care about
>>
>>3727650
>>3727651
>>3727652
Ah, the veteran legionary. Let us see if he makes it!

1 = Just a Scratch
2 = Walking Wounded
3 = Walking Wounded (Lorica Hamata)
4 = Grievous Injury (25% bleed out, 25% Maimed)
5 = Mortal Blow (40% bleed out, 40% Maimed)
6 = Death
7 = Gruesome Death (-1 Squad Discipline)

Roll me three 1d7s.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d7)

>>3727654
>>
Rolled 1 (1d7)

>>3727654
>>
Rolled 3 (1d7)

>>3727654
>>
>>3727652
Yeah, I really should buff the roster since apparently platoons are 20-30 people and squads are 10-15 ish, I'm not very good at military stuff I'm afraid :S
>>
>>3727660
we can put our low numbers in the recent almost company wipe we received, as the company grows our squad grows too
>>
>>3727660
Well you could just use the legion structure which used 8 man squads to form one century.
>>
>>3727658
[Notes: I like to cut down on dice where possible, so next time you will only get ONE 1d6 (Fox got 1d7 because he's legionary with heavy armour) to determine how grievously wounded the Critically affected person is. Still three rolls to determine who is up on the chopping block, though! Thank you for your patience as your QM bumbles through mechanics.]

>2 Success, -1 Discipline, -2 Foe Discipline
>Critical Fail = - 1 Discipline, Personal Squad Casualty Fox (Just a Scratch)
>Samurai Leadership - Foe Discipline Roll Auto-Pass, Magistrate Guards heroically gets slaughtered instead

[And that was the end of a turn. I think I'm getting the hang of this.]

-----

The duties of a scrivener is to record the valour of those of our number, often mid-battle because that's where they count. It is a precarious thing, to keep an eye out for the heroics of others while trying to dodge arrows and bend under swords. The men of the Company rely on us to record their deaths for the vaunted immortality presented by the Annals.

Vanity of vanities! The desire for an eternal tombstone is what drives Black Company to its greatness. What a cynical person the first Captain must have been, to institute such a program.


(1) Leadership Abilities (-10 Personal DC each command, can issue multiple)
>To Me - Designate up to 2 Squad personnel to join your Personal fight
>Blind the Enemy - Dumpling concentrates to summon a burst of witchfire that lingers for 1d3 Turns, reducing Foe DC by 1d5.
>Not Today - When Squad takes casualty, take the damage from in the stead of one squad member (needs to be active before the turn's attacks, cannot retroactively affect for previous turns)
>>
>>3727674
>Not Today
Just to be sure, and since we fucked up the leader andhis escorts our dc will be ok
>>
>>3727674
>>To Me - Designate up to 2 Squad personnel to join your Personal fight
Same as last time
>>
>>3727674
>>Not Today - When Squad takes casualty, take the damage from in the stead of one squad member (needs to be active before the turn's attacks, cannot retroactively affect for previous turns)
>>
>>3727677
Do we need to? Will they go back to the squad or hood and Mul are already with us?
>>
>>3727674
>Not Today - When Squad takes casualty, take the damage from in the stead of one squad member (needs to be active before the turn's attacks, cannot retroactively affect for previous turns)
>>
>>3727679
Not sure if we need to call people every round anyway I'll switch to Not Today if they're still with us.
>>
>>3727676
>>3727677
>>3727678
>>3727680
>>3727683
>To Me! and Not Today (Personal Combat -20DC)

-----

PERSONAL COMBAT

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Rejuvenated
Corporal Hood: Healthy
Recruit Mulberry: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +116DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Leadership Ability x2 -20DC, Hood +20DC, Mulberry +15DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)

VS

Shenzou Abe, Bakufu samurai: Injured
Hotokeki, baker, ashigaru: Battered
Ryokucha, teashop owner, ashigaru: Injured
Pankeki, son of Hotokeki, ashigaru: Battered
>Personal Combat = +75DC [Injured -5DC, Bloodsworn +10DC, Heavenly Sovereign's Rescript to Fight Against Barbarians +2DC, Embattled Veteran +7DC, Skilled II +4DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Trained (Bushido) +3DC, Ensouled tachi +15DC, Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10DC, Fashionable Kabuto +3DC, Leadership Ability -10DC, Hotokeki +8DC, Ryokucha +7DC, Pankeki +11DC]
>Armour Value = 16AV [Waelandish lamellar cuirass (true iron) +10AV, Crested kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Path of the Samurai (Never Fear - this enemy will fight to the death)

---
Battle of the Magistracy Gate

Black Company Ranger Squad "Gladius"
[6/7 Discipline]
[Veterans +5, Experienced +1, Well-Equipped +4, Elite (Rangers) +2] = Baseline 12
Sorceress Dumpling +3
Trooper-Scrivener Lee +3
Trooper Fox +7
Scout Chatal +6
&
People's Militia, 17th Section (Surviving)
[4/5]
[Green -3, Adequate Equipment +1, Survivors +2, Captau Xuan +5] Base 5
Feng the Farmer, militiaman +2
Prattling Ping, militiaman +1
Lo "Grey Eminence" Pang, militiaman -1
The Boy, militiaboy -2
Squad DC = +[67 + 20] = 87

VS

Magistrate Guards
[2/5] Discipline
[Green -3, Adequate Equipment +1DC, Zealots +4DC, Samurai Leadership +5DC] = Baseline 7
Harried Guardsman -1
Despairing Guardsman -2
Reinforcing Guardsman +1
Suicidal Guardsman +2
Last-Stand Guardsman +2
Wavering Guardsman -1
Foe DC = +[43]

Personal Comabt DC91
>3d100
Squad Comabt DC94
>3d100

It is good to have the odds on our side, for once, I thought. Fate would admonish me for even daring to think that.
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>3727690
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>3727690
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>3727690
>>
>>3727691
>>3727690
You were saying QM?
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>3727693
>>3727694
Counts as a double? Kek

>>3727690
Now fpr squad
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>3727690
rolling for squad now
>>
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>3727690
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>3727690
Squad Combat
>>
>>3727712
>>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had fifteen minimum with her. Rainard had some militiamen with him, but in the mines, numbers were a liability, not help.
>>
>Killed
>Destroyed

"Well, I'll be damned," Captain Xuan said elatedly. "We actually made it!"

The Magistracy was ours. low-walled and built more as a place of dwelling, it wasn't a castle. But it had sturdy gates that could be locked, and more importantly-

"We've found caches of weapons, sergeant." Fox gave me the Roman salute. I noticed his arm was bleeding.

"Explains that one officer. He was probably sent here to distribute arms among the commoners. Have that wound seen to," I said. Infections decimate armies.

"Will do, sir. Any further orders?"

"No, stand down. We did our part in pointing out the local landmarks. The militiamen can do their bit of securing the site. Captain Xuan," I turned, "do try not to go on a looting spree with your men."

"I can't guarantee anything," the man replied with a shrug. It wasn't that he actively encouraged it, but soldiers like these tended to be unruly.

"Trying will be enough," I told him. Their numbers were whittled down to nearly half already, but they weren't mourning for each other. At least the survivors now had some idea of combat.

I took a second to reorient myself. The Magistracy was for now secure in our hands, and we had the numbers to defend it against most small groups.

Where were the rest of the actual warriors? Those men in black had been an actual threat. Twenty had escorted the Princess, and seventeen returned alive the day of the ritual. The princess wasn't here. Her and her escorts had to be somewhere else. The inn? No, if they were there in the first place, they were long gone. But not outside the city yet. Hiding around, maybe. The streets weren't clear enough to ride through.

Where might the princess and her guards head to when forewarned of an attack? Somewhere safe with few entrances which can be guarded with a small but elite number of warriors?

Ginzan means 'silver mine'. Very literal, these Waelanders.

"Hood," I said quietly in Coin, wishing I'd paid more attention in the pre-battle lecture. "Do you remember where those stormtroopers were supposed to go to?"

She thought for a moment. "The mines, I think. Top priority, too. That's Rainard's group, isn't it? Why?"

>I wasn't going to run off to save stormtroopers, of all people. Besides, they knew what they were doing. Some of the toughest of the Company joined them. "Nothing," I said. "I'll go with Lee and look to the wounded. Please make sure those militiamen keep their rowdiness to a minimum."

>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."
>>
>>3727723
>>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."
>>
>>3727723

>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."

And still instruct Corporal Hood to keep the roudiness to a minimum

Sneak a butt slap in while we go, battlefield naughtiness will get her going for later
>>
>>3727723
>>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."
>>
>>3727723


>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."

>>3727732
Butt squeeze is more appropriate
We will have a lot of paperwork to fill after the battle, good thing Dumpling is now awake to help with it all.
>>
>>3727598
>The effect of memory-affecting drugs, I'm afraid.
So no rape PTSD for her?
>>
>>3727723
>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."
>>
>>3727725
>>3727732
>>3727733
>>3727734
>>3727746
>On the other hand, a stormtrooper squad was only ten men. And the princess had those strange warriors with her. They were a match, individually, in terms of stormtrooper fighting prowess. "I have unfinished business in the mines. Hold the fort while I go check something out with..." I thought about the toughest men in my small squad. "Fox. And Chatal. I'll be a while."

The cheeky Aurelius of old would have squeezed her hand. Maybe even cop a feel as I kissed her goodbye. I rushed away instead, seeking safety in the privacy of the little medical tent that Lee had put up. I hadn't realised how close I was to throwing hysterics near Hood's presence, now that battle adrenaline faded away.

There is a small glass bottle hidden in a false shelf in my case of scrivener tools, sitting within my rucksack. The bag itself is a relic of my past, a simple and sturdily crafted thing of good leather and keen craftsmanship. Twelve years had it kept me company. Twelve years, that bottle has helped suppress my inner demons.

I mean that metaphorically. There were no literal daemons threatening to bursts out of me. Would that it were so literal! But my demons were my memories and the things that I had done. Once every week, a single pill. Then a massive headache, after which, a calm. It wasn't a perfect solution. It wasn't a solution at all. But it worked. Until it didn't.

Death and revival had sobered me - cold turkey, as some people say, though for the life of me I cannot remember who, or what a turkey is. Possibly an effect of long-term use of the drug. I had been warned not to overuse it when I received my first package from a concerned relative. It would make me stop remembering more and more, and gradually I would lose my skills. I'd already seen a frightening boost in my combat capabilities after I came back.
>>
>>3727780

"It helps you forget," he had said. Belisarius was a kind man, in his own way, though he had a severe lack of facial expressions. No doubt he had his own demons to wrestle with at night. "One pellet a week, no more. It won't solve your problems. But it will help you live through them."

I shook the glass bottle experimentally. Only one left. I Mulberry was her old self mostly because of those small, dark-brown pellets. They were expensive things, and I usually kept them to myself except in the direst cases of the need for freshening up the patient's head sans reveries.

It wasn't working. Not as well as it should. I could still remember Eskhata, even though I'd taken one the afternoon when Mulberry was attacked, right after I'd fed her the other. Was it because of some sort of enhancement in my inherited constitution? The so-called divine blood, hunting down the medicinal as well as the detrimental? To think that my own body was betraying me. Even in death, the Emperor plays tricks on his children.

I had to up the dose. Two per week, or one every three days.

>Then I thought of Mulberry.
When was the next time I might get my hands on the ingredients? I should have went to the herbal shop in Reed.
I placed the bottle back in the medicine box, its single inhabitant intact.

>One more pellet, to last me through the week.
I took the pill out of the bottle, and swallowed.
>>
>>3727738
It's not gone, just suppressed
>>
>>3727784
>>Then I thought of Mulberry.
>>
>>3727780
>>Then I thought of Mulberry
>>
>>3727784
>>Then I thought of Mulberry.
>>
>>3727784

>Then I thought of Mulberry.


I remembered Eskhatan
That perceptive ranger will notice right away we are different when she has the time
Why? Just why couldn't those accursed water spirit take those away instead of Honey's
>>
>>3727784
>>Then I thought of Mulberry.
>>
>>3727784
>One more pellet, to last me through the week.

Ok guys, we just need to tell Hood and Dumpling to keep close watch on her. If we lose Aurelius we loose our personality and its worst of the two options. The same thing was with Honey and why I was ok with losing memory of her. As long as we remain the same person that felt deep love and care for that child everything will be the same. Allow Mulberry to suffer this week, so Aurelius can care enough for her to make medicine in the next one.

As long as QM don't kill her off by suicide or something. That's why Dumpling and Hood need to keep careful watch over her.
>>
>>3727822
I don't think he will lose himself, he is what he is, the problem is that it will be very hard to even look at Hood in the eye after we remember what we did, we were integral part in the events that scared her for life, we will have to explain to her that we remembered our past because we didn't take the pill, but maybe not tell her about Eskhatan
>>
We'll have to avoid the shit out of Hood until we are back to Reed, damn, it had to be best girl and it had to be terrible terrible war crimes
>>
>>3727830
At least he regrets it deeply, or else he wouldn't take the pills. He will cettanly be more mopey until we get more.
>>
>>3727831
Besides Eskhata Aurelius probably has PTSD from all the shit he's seen on his many campaigns with the legions
>>
>>3727833
Yup, imagine all those dead friends, thoss countless war crimes and the inumerous times he turned his head and ignored girls just like Honey, Today's Aurelius probably is disgusted to no end by Old Aurelius, his life and ways changed so much now, he has to focus on Hood, Dumps, Shammy, Honey and the kids to remember he is not that guy anymore
>>
>>3727790
>>3727791
>>3727799
>>3727811
>>3727816
"Sentimental old fool." That's the problem with Alexandrians. We live too long and remember too much.

Chatal led us through the smoke and occasional battles. We avoided the brawling street fighters, all of whom were Waelanders and militiamen. Black Companymen had better things to do than run around and burn houses.

The Sinaeans outnumbered the number of Waelanders willing to fight by a significant. It also helped that most of the would-be freedom fighters from the Wae side were armed with farming implements at best. Their own nation's concern for security by safekeeping all the arms and armours in the magistracy had doomed them to a futile and weaponless slaughter.

We continued without looking back, and I gained another thing to have nightmares about. After a few centuries, they sort of blended in together. A single additional scene of carnage wouldn't break me.

"There is blood in the air," Chatal said as we neared the entrance to the mine. Of course there was blood. Didn't he see the number of the dead? Iwari-Ginzan had been doomed the moment the prefect demanded we take along his insufferable volunteers along.

"I do not mean spilled blood, bayatur. This one is old."

"How can you smell old blood?" Fox asked, a trifle too stiffly. "Blood dries, scabs. You can't smell such things."

He was Imperial, through and through. I appreciated the fact that he tried not to snub non-Alexandrians, but it was hard for him to suppress a lifetime of education thataways, and it showed. The man had a pale sort of golden eyes that marked him as a distant cousin of my massive and hopelessly interconnected family, but also low enough in "purity" to not be a Grade A arsehole. Even so, there's no fooling the blood, as they say. It was hard for anyone who was educated in the Capital to lose their previously held convictions on outsiders.

"I wouldn't dismiss Chatal's nose so quickly, if I were you," I told him.

"Yes, sir." This one would take some house training.

"It is old blood. Rotten." Chatal made a circular sign, the kind intended to ward off of evil spirits that would kill horses in their stables. I'd lived with the Magal for some time when my father was alive. Now I remembered. It wasn't real magic. Just harmless superstition. But such signs and trinkets and superstitions were signifiers of the fear of men. Chatal was feeling uneasy.

"Something large and... heavy, killed three men here." He pointed to a bloody patch on the ground that I'd ignored. Filtering out the scenery becomes habitual, your brain picking out something that looks like it belongs and shoving them with the rest of natural scenery. I kneeled. There was a teardrop-shaped crystal of blood here, like Chatal said. It kept its shape as I picked it up. Not quite rotten. Definitely not scabbed.

I felt a faint fizz in the air.
>>
>>3727868

I rolled the blob of blood and flesh around my fingers. Nothing. Just a residue, then. Something that used to be a part of a greater whole. "Can you track it?"

"How can I not?" the Magal said. "Whatever it was, it was very recent. Early morning would be my guess. Right into the silver mines."

I wiped my finger on the ground, bereft of snow from whatever struggle had occurred here. "The men who died here, they weren't brothers, were they?"

"No sir. No metal fragments here. Unless they were caught without resisting."

"Not bloody likely," Fox said. I had to agree.

>"It's fucking magic. Of course it is. Chatal, run and grab any friendlies you encounter. Black Company preferably, but any body would do fine as long as there's enough of them." Have you ever fought something that is magic? I had. And I had zero wish to fight something of the like again with small numbers.

>Blood magic is one of the many forbidden branches of the arts. I say forbidden, because even if the Emperor did allegedly practice it, it tends to result in mages going mad with power gained so easily with human sacrifices. I questioned whether bringing more men would help. Quality, not quantity, would be the deciding factor.
>>
>>3727869
so the stormtroopers are assumed dead?
>>
>>3727869
>>Blood magic is one of the many forbidden branches of the arts. I say forbidden, because even if the Emperor did allegedly practice it, it tends to result in mages going mad with power gained so easily with human sacrifices. I questioned whether bringing more men would help. Quality, not quantity, would be the deciding factor.

I'm not sure how blood magic works but I assume if we bring a bunch of militia stooges they will only be used to fuel the magic more
>>
Not necessarily
>>
>>3727869
>>Blood magic is one of the many forbidden branches of the arts. I say forbidden, because even if the Emperor did allegedly practice it, it tends to result in mages going mad with power gained so easily with human sacrifices. I questioned whether bringing more men would help. Quality, not quantity, would be the deciding factor.
>>
>>3727874
this was supposed to be at >>3727871
>>
>>3727869


>Blood magic is one of the many forbidden branches of the arts. I say forbidden, because even if the Emperor did allegedly practice it, it tends to result in mages going mad with power gained so easily with human sacrifices. I questioned whether bringing more men would help. Quality, not quantity, would be the deciding factor.
>>
>>3727872
>>3727875
>>3727880
>>Blood magic is one of the many forbidden branches of the arts. I say forbidden, because even if the Emperor did allegedly practice it, it tends to result in mages going mad with power gained so easily with human sacrifices. I questioned whether bringing more men would help. Quality, not quantity, would be the deciding factor.

We tumbled in, one after another. Ancient miners had burrowed the earth like prehistoric worms in search of silver ore here. The floor was rough-hewn and more than once, I thanked my past self for purchasing armoured boots. Echoes went pitter-patter.

"I cannot trust my senses anymore," the Magal scout admitted. "Caves are not for me."

"So the superman does have limits," Fox chuckled. His voice went snicker-snacker.

We listened to his demented snickling stretch into a full-blown cackle for one long minute as the ribbed belly of the mine played toss-the-voice across each other.

"Let's not laugh in here again," I suggested. Both troopers agreed.

Time lost all meaning this far down under. The sun did not rise up for his daily skirt-chasing game with the moon here. Priests of all stripes of religion claimed that the underworld, whether it be hell or hades or sheol, belonged deep down in the cthonic debts of the world, where the dirt never touched the fingers of the sun. Seeing what this place was like, I could believe it.

The mine had been operating as recently as this morning, until the miners were disrupted by the call for arms. Signs of a rapid egress was everywhere. Iron-poor Waelanders would not throw their mining tools away so carelessly without cause.

Chatal saw it a split second before I smelled the thing. "Daichin Tenguri," he hissed. The red god of death and war. He was wrong. I'd seen the fellow before.

"That's not Mars," I told him with a grim smile. Mars liked smelling of adrenaline and male musk, not blood. Only the wounded and the dead bled. "Looks like we've found what killed those three men aboveground."

What it was, was a creation of art. The lives of many had been drawn out to create this thing, this pinnacle of whatever this branch of blood sorcery was called. I'd never seen any magical construct so refined, so... substantial.

So alive.

"Blood magic and necromancy," Fox spat. "Dead things should stay dead."

"Not quite dead," I said. "There is a man underneath all that."

Chatal was distressed. "This is not how things should be. The dead should be given leave to rest, instead of..."

"Not dead, Chatal. Don't you see?" What violent self-conceit! What ambition! "The man inside isn't dead. He hasn't been resurrected."

Apotheosis by forced infusion of life-essence. You had to hand it to the Waelanders. They had imagination.
>>
>>3727973
-----

(1) Prayer to Those On High
>Mars Invictus! [Legionarius]
The dreaded Red Star has never left the skies ever since the Emperor conquered the lands. Veteran legionaries pray to their martial god by wounding themselves before particularly fierce battles in an act of devotio.
Martial Valour = 1 Wound is self-inflicted, +1d10 to Squad Combat DC
OR
-1 Wound is self-inflicted, gain +1 Damage

>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
More than a man, less than a god. He was general and warrior, brute and scholar both. Dead though he may be, his actions linger on to affect the world in myriad ways...
Survivor = Extra die for Divine Constitution


(2) Leadership Abilities (-10 Personal DC each command, can issue multiple)
>Wolf Pack
Instead of adding allies' bonuses to Personal Combat DC, use them as extra 1d100s (max 2, further -10DC on second Ally converted)
>Not Today, Brother
When Casualty occurs, take the damage in the stead of a squad member

-----
>>
>>3727975
(1) Prayer to Those On High
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
(2) Leadership Abilities
>Not Today, Brother
>>
>>3727975
>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>Not Today, Brother
>>
>>3727981
>>3727978
Agreed
>>
>>3727975

(1) Prayer to Those On High
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
(2) Leadership Abilities
>Not Today, Brother
>>
File: 1515812214636.png (652 KB, 604x812)
652 KB
652 KB PNG
>>3727978
>>3727981
>>3727995

PERSONAL COMBAT

Sergeant-Scrivener Aurelius: Rejuvenated
Trooper Hood: Healthy
Trooper-Scout Chatal: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +128DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Dirty Fighting +3DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Leadership Ability -10DC, Fox +19DC, Chatal +18DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Iron buckler +5AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV]
>Special = Father's Sword (+1 Reroll per battle) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC50)

VS

Blood Doll Warrior: Exuberant
>Personal Combat = +138DC [Exuberant +10DC, Bloodpact +25DC, Veteran III +15DC, Skilled V +10DC, Divine Strength +10DC, Divine Endurance +10DC, Divine Will +10DC, Elite (Samurai) +10DC, Ensouled Uchigatana +18DC, Artisanal Lamellar Cuirass (blessed) +13DC, Consecrated Kabuto +7DC]
>Armour Value = +16AV [Artisanal Lamellar Cuirass (blessed) +10AV, Consecrated Kabuto +6AV]
>Special = Twelve Lives Mask Warrior
>Sorcery: Wrath (Annul first two Personal Combat Roll on Success)

Javelin DC50
>1d100
Sorcery Resistance DC50
>1d100
Personal Combat DC40
>3d100
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>3728030
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>3728030
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>3728030
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>3728030
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>3728030
>>
I think we shoupd drop the orders next round, we need the extra DC
>>
Rolled 45, 8 = 53 (2d100)

AV
>>
>>3728046
>>3728062
>>3728065
>Javelin fail
>Sorcery resisted
>2 Success
>1 AV Success
>Prayer offered to the Emperor

To the dead Emperor who may not be dead, I prayed. I prayed to the dead Emperor for survivability. Irony upon irony. I hated such things, habits learned from other legionaries. In a fit of perverse pleasure, I sang a dirge in the stead of the typical words of consecration:

His once impressive voice is rendered silent.
His magnificent physique becomes that of an old man.
His strong legs, like pillars, they once stood,
crumbles from the onslaught of gallal-demons.
What, for the ravages of time?
How, against a foe that never sleeps?
Only When is the question that is certain.


The Emperor was dead. Surely he was dead.

And I was visibly rewarded, though minutely if the legends of the Emperor were to be held true. I realised from the ambient increase in light that my eyes were glowing fiercely, two sun-discs of light that distracted the creature. It did not like the lights. Not because it couldn't stand light itself, but because the Emperor had been, in his life, anathema to the things that called themselves gods.

Curious then that many still worship Mars, especially among the legionaries. Theology never was my playground.

The fight wore on against the beast. Confounded, hurt, yet it stood still, as bloody alive as it was when it first appeared with its heady aroma of life and the promise of soft biting flesh against our swords. We were as ants, biting into the thick hide of an elephant.

I hacked at its arm. It grew another one. Fox stabbed the thing with the persistence of an ox, hiding behind his rapidly-battering scutum right after every attack, and the gaping wounds closed, leaving behind only the erotic musk of life. Fierce Chatal, incensed Chatal, most vicious of us three against what he saw to be a Thing That Must Not Be, was the eye of the hurricane within the spinning crescents of his dual swords.

Which was a swordstyle that only the mad or the truly deluded would adopt. But would you tell him that?

The three of us killed him five times over. But five lives were lives he had to spare.

Sorcery Resist DC40
>1d100
Personal Combat DC45
>3d100
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>3728126
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>3728126
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>3728126
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>3728126
>>
>>3728167
>>3728155
>>3728140
You guys are amazing
>>
>>3728140
>>3728155
>>3728167
Hmm mind if I try to use the gladius pre-roll QM? Especially with 3 successes it would really pay off if it works.
>>
where were those rolls against the samurais

the odds of having 3 hits in a dc like that is pretty low I think
>>
>>3728189
Pray to Caesar the God-Emepror and he will provide anon.
>>
>>3728194
I liked the mars ability way more, but now that it's 1d10 instead of 10 I don't know anymore
it combos really well with our 50dc regen
>>
>Succumbed to Sorcery
>1 Success against Blood Doll Warrior
>2 Success against Fox

The masked warrior pointed his finger to me and said: "Murderer." I lopped off his finger, but the damage was already done.

My eyes widened. They were no mere words. Some librarians like to contend that there is only one language for true magic. Fools are they, who believe that magic flows in line to a single tongue of man. How then would they explain the independent evolution of sorcery throughout the disparate civilisations of our damned race?

There was no awful burst of red light zigzagging to impale my heart. No dramatic changing of my skin colour. Remember that sorcery is a thing of deception that rarely create when it can bend. Imperceptible magic is the most powerful of all.

The moment after the spell was struck, I saw red. Reason fled and anger surfaced.

And then I struck Fox. His armour saved him, though his armour was not saved. The lorica hamata tore and de-chained, hundreds of tinkling things falling to the floor. I managed to think to myself, that is not how mail armour works, before falling, once more, to that rage-filled spell.

His shock at my betrayal lended further lease to my life. He should have immediately turned to attack me instead of hesitating. Not a mistake he will make again, thought the thing that passed for my mind in its blood-fuelled haze. I raised my hand, flipped the gladius - all in one smooth motion - and plunged it down. Down against his almost-aristocratic features. Down to where his ruined armour revealed a patch of linen shirt. Down inexorably to kill the man who looked like every legionary officer I'd ever known.

And I was knocked off my feet. "Aurelius, no!" Within the span of a single second, Chatal had seen me change and switched from dervish of death to a human-sized missile.

It would be narratively convenient if I were to write here that I raged, shouted all sorts of nasty words, or even fumed in the mouth. The truth is unfortunately uglier than fiction. I made a sort of "Ueh?" that one does when one is unexpectedly bowled over. My buckler dropped somewhere beyond my very limited field of vision. My head ached from where I'd banged it against the minefloor.

But my hand still had my sword.

>Sorcery Resistance DC60
1d100
>>
>>3728203
Talking more about the narrative effect rather than the actual mechanical bonus but anyway in this case there's no Squad Combat rolls so picking it would have been useless unless we took the damage buff.
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>3728215
>>
>>3728181
Can't use that effect while affected by this spell, I'm afraid.
>>
Roll me 3d100 for Combat.
>>
Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>3728215
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>3728227
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>3728227
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>3728227
>>
>>3728233
Lets reroll that one
>>
>>3728253
Can we reroll and pick worse one?
>>
Rolled 100, 42, 25 = 167 (3d100)

>>3728227
>>
>>3728235
>Succumbed to Sorcery
>Personal Combat DC49
>1 Success, 1 Wound inflicted and dealt
Anyone else got consistent Connection Errors on 4chan?

---

The man and his swords had bite! I bled, first from his meteoric distraction from killing that traitor legionary, and then from the scything blades. I shivered with an utterly asexual kind of pleasure. It had been so long. Tents and ceremonial banquets and triumphs - all well and good, but a soldier needs fights to pump his blood! Coliseum fights were too safe, too pedestrian. Now here in front of me was a competent fighter. Someone whose death would be actually satisfying.

"Barbarian!" I said, laughing to take the sting out of it. I meant no rudeness. It was his bad luck to have been born among the horse-fuckers of the north. "What are you doing here so far-off from your fields littered with horse manure? Your kind should be driven away to drown in the sulphur ponds, just like your Varangian allies."

Smoke had reigned supreme that day and the days to come, to the disbelief of the Varangian emissary who was there to negotiate a truce. Emperor! Now there was a man who could get things done. Who would believe that one could set fire to the frozen wastelands of Khulan?

"You are not well, bayatur," the Magal said with a dead voice. "Something else is speaking with your mouth. At least, that is what I would like to believe."

"Watch your tone with me, animal-husbander." Mars forgive me, I gripped my gladius with both hands. "Do you know of whom you address?"

"You are Aurelius," the Magal said. "My sergeant."

I was speechless for a moment. "Who?" That was of course a ruse. As he opened his mouth to speak, I descended upon him like the wrath of the legions. And by Mars, I would make him bleed.

This was the most fun I've had in centuries. The boys back in the Capital was going to love this one.

---
>>
>>3728310

Tiberius Caesar filius Asiaticus, Legate of the Tenth Legion: Injured
>Personal Combat = +83DC [Injured -5DC, Imperator +50DC, Legate +10DC, Veteran X+50DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legionarius) +15DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Debilitating Wrath -100DC]
>Armour Value = 40AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV, Wrath -10AV]
>Special = Sword of the Emperor (+1 Reroll per Turn) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC66)

VS

Chatal, Trooper-Scout: Battered
>Personal Combat = +72DC [Battered +0DC, Veteran III +15DC, Skilled V+10DC, Elite (Kheshik) +15DC, Extremely Dirty Fighting +9DC, Valuable Bloodline: Steppe Magal +3DC, Goat-leather Brigandine +6DC, Animal-skin Coif +3DC, Sabre x2 +11DC]
>Armour Value = +14AV [Goat-leather Brigandine +8AV, Animal-skin Coif +6AV]

Wake Up You Idiot DC70
>1d100
Personal Combat DC66
>3d100
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>3728313
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>3728313
This emeperor dude sounds like a proper asshole, and old aurelius too, good thing we didn't offer no prayer to him at the temple, and now I kinda regret doing it here too
It's no wonder Aurelius believes his heritage is a curse
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>3728313
>>
>>3728313
combat

>>3728326
tell me about it, I was always wondering when we were going to tell the girls our real name but now I don't want it anymore, this guy deserves to be dead and buried
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>3728330
>>3728313
>>
>>3728330
>>3728326
We should take a pill, I warned you guys
>>
>>3728338
don't know if it would stop the sorcery, but we have good reason to not remember these things

the important thing is to remember who aurelius is now
>>
qm? can we roll for regen now that we snapped out of it?
>>
>>3728317
>Woke

"-the fuck?" I stopped, mid-jump. This proved to be a terrible idea. I landed on the floor for the second time in so many minutes with the grace of a weekling duck. My head throbbed with each heartbeat, and it was not just because of the sizeable gash that was bleeding all over my eyes. "Thirteen Divines, what was that?"

"No time," Chatal said. His eyes were hard. "Do you see the red beast?"

"I can hardly see!" Ichor is of a slightly more goopy consistency than regular blood. My eyes burned. Ichor also has a slightly stronger

"No time! Fox is dying!"

That jumpstarted my brain. Someone was dying. I couldn't let that happen, could I? After all, I was Aurelius. Scrivener and Trooper. Each death is an end to a story. It is my duty to see the stories of my fellow brothers end with a long, if not satisfying, conclusion.

I picked up my sword. The hilt seemed to burn a little in my grip, and I could taste metal and a heavily actinic tang in my teeth.

Just my imagination. This was a perfectly ordinary sword.

>And with that perfectly ordinary sword, I, a commonplace scrivener, charged at the hulking death-god-thing that was choking the life out of Fox.

>"Wait, you're fighting THAT thing? No thanks!" I am a bloody scrivener, not fucking Achilles. What was this Magal expecting me to do? Kill the thing?
>>
>>3728345
QM was writing, and I think I prefer dipping in and out of combat systems instead of purely numbering actions, after all. Numbers ache me head. That is not to say we won't be using the combat system. But it will be interspersed with, well, writing.
>>
>>3728347
>>And with that perfectly ordinary sword, I, a commonplace scrivener, charged at the hulking death-god-thing that was choking the life out of Fox.
>>
>>3728347
>And with that perfectly ordinary sword, I, a commonplace scrivener, charged at the hulking death-god-thing that was choking the life out of Fox.


I am superstitious and hereby will never vote for invoking the emperor ever again.
>>
>>3728347
>And with that perfectly ordinary sword, I, a commonplace scrivener, charged at the hulking death-god-thing that was choking the life out of Fox.
>>
>>3728347

>And with that perfectly ordinary sword, I, a commonplace scrivener, charged at the hulking death-god-thing that was choking the life out of Fox.
>>
>>3728351
>>3728353
>>3728354
>>3728355
>And with that perfectly ordinary sword, I, a commonplace scrivener, charged at the hulking death-god-thing that was choking the life out of Fox.

"I am," I said with a firm conviction, "going to die." Heroes usually have magic swords. Or spears. Spears are the greatest, aren't they? They let you stab from a distance instead of going all in. Why was I using this shortsword, anyway? Only legionaries used this thing. It was short and, and made you go close to your enemy before stabbing him...

Ah, yes, it was a gift from my father. That useless oaf. He fell off a horse, you know. At least, as far as I can remember. Terrible father. Still, he paid for my education.

I jumped - flew - (screamed) my way toward the terrifying thing whose mask was giving me second thoughts, because dear lord those teeth did not belong to humans! But I was already mid-air by then, and I wasn't feeling up to a third cranial concussion in so many minutes.

I gently folded upon the larger armoured man with a quiet oomph. The sword daintily made contact. With just the tip. The following explosion, I have been told, was a splendid thing. I wish I'd seen it. I'd missed it thanks to getting immediately thrown off from the force of it and landing on my head.

---

I woke, as I usually did, in the medical tents. It was crowded here. Aftermath of a battle usually does that. The Black Company did like to take care of her members, and even carried around a corps of medicians for that purpose.

I was one of them. I also often ended up in the medical tables as a patient myself. The humour was not lost upon me, but it was for poor Xavier after the fiftieth time. I could just hear him now. He would say, "Arrowheads. Again." And I would reply, "As long as all's safe, under the Hood." And then she would be there, waiting for me to wake up, to give the obligatory apology and the unnecessary glare.

Life in the Company wasn't so bad. In between the contracts, at least.

There was Hood now, as I expected. But no Xavier, to my puzzlement. Ah, and Dumpling! She was also usually there when I woke up from my temporary loss of consciousness by Hood.

...They were crying, for some reason. I had a bad feeling. And crying women made me feel terrible. It was a thing. I couldn't deal with it.

>So I called for the Man In Charge. "Where is Sergeant?"

>"Did Raindrops poison the canteen again?" I still remembered that eye-watering "curry" he tried feeding us two weeks ago. The horror... the horror!

>Only one thing could have brought all the gang here. Someone beloved was wounded. "Is Honey okay? I hope she's okay." ...Except, the gang was incomplete.
>>
>>3728388
>So I called for the Man In Charge. "Where is Sergeant?"

At this rate Aurelius will be assuming the old man is still alive well into his own dotage.
>>
>>3728388
>>So I called for the Man In Charge. "Where is Sergeant?"

I don't dare to ask about Shamaness, no, please no
>>
>>3728414
arg, but I must

I change to

>Only one thing could have brought all the gang here. Someone beloved was wounded. "Is Honey okay? I hope she's okay." ...Except, the gang was incomplete.

>>3728388
>>
>>3728414
Who's Shamaness?
>>
>>3728388

>Only one thing could have brought all the gang here. Someone beloved was wounded. "Is Honey okay? I hope she's okay." ...Except, the gang was incomplete.

Amnesia the quest 3: memories from a past long gone
>>
>>3728423
>>
oh shit....did we die again? were they mourning us? is that why the old men is not around?
>>
>>3728442
Cheeky bastard!
>>
>>3728419
>>3728423
>Only one thing could have brought all the gang here. Someone beloved was wounded. "Is Honey okay? I hope she's okay." ...Except, the gang was incomplete.

Hood choked. Dumpling breathed in so hard her cute face became somewhat purple. And there were all these people I didn't know around me. An Alexandrian ("watered down", as my father would have called him), a bearded Magal, some tomboy kid who looked like a juvenile delinquent, and a prettyboy.

I squinted. He was actually a she. And she had been administering to me, too. A fellow scrivener, then. I didn't know we had one who wasn't an old geezer. I decided to put on some moves. "Hello there," I said. "Is your name Lee? Because you are very pretty. Like that one scrivener who ran off with the Captain at that time and were executed together." You had one job, Mouth. One. Job. Wait, maybe she liked that kind of stories. Some women got off dead people. Don't ask me why. I'm not a girl.

"He's not... in his right mind," the pretty scrivener said. Guess she wasn't one of them.

"You should wear your hair long," I said. "I like long hair." I thought about it. "On the other hand, if you're working as a scrivener... I guess short will be fine."

"I seriously had nothing to do with him, I swear!" Lee said desperately. Hood's knife was accidentally sliding out of her hands. And Dumpling looked ready to fry something, and nothing that was tasty.

Her words hurt. I had feelings. Sure, the women looked at me like a social pariah in Kick-the-Pariah-Day (those Indians have some strange customs. That was the one day pariahs waited for all year. A longing for human contact or somesuch), on account of my damned eyes, but I wasn't half bad looking if I said so myself.

Bit boring, actually. You try being special in a camp full of literal snowflakes. You want royal princes on the run? We've got royal princes and princesses on the run. Cloistered nuns seeking sexual liberation by joining a mercenary company and fucking anyone with half a dick? An orphaned villager-child who was left with only a sword and the mysterious words of a dying mother? Check and mate. Usually found in bed together. Wait a minute, wasn't that paedophilia?
>>
>>3728388
>So I called for the Man In Charge. "Where is Sergeant?"
>>
>>3728485

...The Black Company was the most cluttered, dysfunctional, anarchic family I'd ever come across. But it was family. Also I think the ominous prophecy orphan found a mother figure in the sexually liberated nun. So it's all good. The point is, we were family.

And I wanted to make a family, if you get my meaning. "Look, I'm a pretty dependable guy," I told miss scrivener. "And I know you want a man who can read his letters."

"He- he's confused, that's all," Lee was almost in tears. Did I mention that I was really weak to maidenly tears? "I did not have sexual relations with that man!"

>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.

>"You can be my tablet, and I'll be your stylus. A stylish stylus." Puns actually did get me laid this one time. It was wild. Don't knock it till you try it. Maybe she was the geeky type.

>I briefly thought about using the single father in need of a woman for the sake of his daughter trope. Then I thought, "Nah." I wasn't going to use Honey as a pickup line. "I already have a daughter, so all she needs is a mother to make a happy family." I was going to use her as a marriage line.
>>
>>3728488
>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.
>>
>>3728488
>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.
>>
>>3728488
>>I briefly thought about using the single father in need of a woman for the sake of his daughter trope. Then I thought, "Nah." I wasn't going to use Honey as a pickup line. "I already have a daughter, so all she needs is a mother to make a happy family." I was going to use her as a marriage line.
>>
>>3728488
>>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.

this is really bad, memory loss again fuck
>>
>>3728488

>I briefly thought about using the single father in need of a woman for the sake of his daughter trope. Then I thought, "Nah." I wasn't going to use Honey as a pickup line. "I already have a daughter, so all she needs is a mother to make a happy family." I was going to use her as a marriage line.

>>3728510
Qm knows where it hurts kek
>>
>>3728488
Holy shit. Where all of that confidence come from? Is it muscle memory or subconscious from all the fucking?
>>
>>3728525
well we used to hit on Hood a lot, mostly to get stabbed and arrowed, maybe he is going with that
>>
>>3728525
You know we're talking about the man who pursued the homicidal murderess who wanted his head on her plate, right?
>>
>>3728488
>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.
So basically big spooky monster and not taking meds has us in a mindfucked loop of nostalgia.
>>
>>3728538
I actually think if we took the meds it was going to be worse since they made us forget stuff
>>
>>3728531
>>3728532
Right. Just all of the attempts were killed off too soon to be so... noticeable. Because of this it wasn't so apparent to me.
>>
>>3727621
>hotokeki
>pankeki
topukeki
>>
>>3728538
Aurelius hit his head pretty hard three times

>>3728576
Finally someone commented on the amusing names

Completely unrelated but does anyone have the PDFs from a series of books (separate PDFs) that some anon dumped in one /tg/ thread on ancient militaries? They were sectioned off, with "Egypt" and "Slavic" and "Maori" and "Roman" and "Mesoamerican". I didn't know PDFs in 4chan eventually expired...
>>
>>3728488

>"You can be my tablet, and I'll be your stylus. A stylish stylus." Puns actually did get me laid this one time. It was wild. Don't knock it till you try it. Maybe she was the geeky type.
>>
>>3728488
>>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.
>>
>>3728488
Oh goddamnit we lost our memories again

That's the third time this quest
>>
>>3729287
we need better headgear kek

I have half a mind of going back to that forest and offering up the memories Aurelius had from his old times
>>
>>3728488
>>I briefly thought about using the single father in need of a woman for the sake of his daughter trope. Then I thought, "Nah." I wasn't going to use Honey as a pickup line. "I already have a daughter, so all she needs is a mother to make a happy family." I was going to use her as a marriage line.
>>
>>3728488
>I did not have sexual relations with that man!"
Top kek
>>
>>3728492
>>3728498
>>3728510
>>3728538
>>3729124
>"Fine, geeze," I said, put off at last. "You don't like me, that's fine. I get it. The eyes are spooky. Wooooo." I missed my wife. She was the only woman who could stand me, back when I lived in the Capital. The sex was great, too.

Hood raised a fist. "Maybe I should hit him again. Then he'll remember."

"Woah!" I said, raising my hands protectively around the hot chocolate (exclusive to patients). "I'm not sure more headbanging is the solution here."

"It really isn't," the female scrivener said quickly. "You might even worsen his condition, send him even further back."

The Magal didn't like the sound of that. "That would be bad."

"Trauma-induced amnesia," I said thoughtfully. "I distinctly remember landing on my head. Multiple times."

"Three," the Magal said.

"Heavens, and I'm still alive?" There was a dull throb in the back of my bandaged head. No doubt the remnant of the wounds. Alexandrians heal quickly, not miraculously. I was going to have a headache for some time. "What was I doing?"

"Almost killing me, sir," the pale-eyed Alexandrian said. He had the look of a legionary about him. That wasn't too unusual. A lot of disgraced legionaries dishonourably retired and found work in mercenary companies as officer or better.

"You don't look very almost dead to me."

"I got better, sir."

I frowned. "You keep calling me sir. I don't think you understsand. Scriveners do not have a rank, not as such." We were battlefield medics and obituary writers. Other troops - and even sergeants - deferred to us not out of hierarchic seniority but because of the knowledge that we performed a crucial role in the running of the Black Company.

The ex-legionary exchanged a look with the Magal. "You are our sergeant, sir. Remember? Ranger squad, Gladius, part of Lieutenant Obol's 9th All-Purpose Platoon?"

"Oh, ha ha. Stop it, guys. Sergeant is still alive, you know." Sergeant would never agree to becoming a lieutenant, so our promotions were effectively locked to corporalhood, if at that. And besides, I didn't want to be an officer. Too much thinking. Thinking exacerbates head wounds. You can trust me on that. I'm a scrivener.

"Aurelius, if this is an act-" Hood began angrily but stopped halfway, seeing that I was serious. "Oh, Ashura," she said despondently. "I can't deal with this." She stormed out of the tent.

"What's gotten to her?" I asked Dumpling. Theophilos wasn't here, so she was the only other person who was a close friend. This was unfortunate, because I'd been hoping to be a little more than friends with her. Baby steps, Aurelius.

"Oh, boy," Dumpling said wearily. "First thing first, you may want to put down that cup."
>>
>>3729619
----

"You can't stay up there forever, sir."

"Come back, bayatur-sergeant. You are making a fool of yourself."

"No!" I shouted. I was hanging on for dear life on the highest tree branch I'd dared climb. Other Black Companymen shooed off curious onlookers. "This is all wrong! Multiple wives? Children? Sergeant? What the hell has other-me been doing?"

"A lot of women, for one thing," the brat with short hair said. "Ow!"

"If you just returned to the nursery, you could see that they are yours," Dumpling said patiently, rubbing the hand that had conked the brat on the head.

"I never wanted children!" I wailed. "Especially children I can't remember having! Making them is the best part of it!" And it's all downhill from there. I'd only had one child before. It didn't go too well, and I'm not too proud to admit it. Aurelius as I knew him would be a terrible father. "I demand a re-do!"

"Sure," Dumpling said sweetly. "But you need to come down first."

"...With all three?"

"At the same time, if you'd like. Now come down, there's a good husband."

I hesitated. It was a trap. Dumpling was not really married to me, was she? I didn't even remember a person named Shamaness. And Hood? The Hood that has been trying to kill me all these months? The woman who almost killed me when I said, "Nice shot!" Who does that?

Something foul was afoot. They were trying to force me to become an officer. I just knew it. Whatever had happened to Sergeant? He would never allow this. "Goldenfuck?" he would say. "Officer?" And then he would have a big, great laugh. And a short, "No." Truly, he was my only ally in this mad world that wanted to make me something more than just a trooper.

>"I'm not coming down until I see marriage certificates!" I shouted down back to the crowd of faces, familiar and unfamiliar. Lee waved three certificates. "Err... I'm also going to need to hear what Sergeant has to say about this!"
"Sergeant is dead," Hood said. I fell off the tree, and promptly cracked my head. Again.
Against all odds, this would actually return my memories, not lock even more away from cerebral trauma. The gods have a cruel sense of humour.

>"This is too much to handle," I said slowly. "It's going to take some time for me to acclimatise to this new Aurelius." And thus began the Negotiation.
"First of all, I can't be married to three people."
Hood raised her bow.
"At least let me see the babies first before deciding," I pleaded.
Hood notched an arrow.
"Okay! Okay! Uhh... baby naming rights and restoration of my status as trooper?"
"Negotiable," Dumpling said, lowering Hood's bow. "What kind of names were you thinking?"
I told them. Hood shot my toe. She knows I hate it when I lose my toenails. They grow much slower than the rest of the body.
>>
>>3729620
>>"I'm not coming down until I see marriage certificates!" I shouted down back to the crowd of faces, familiar and unfamiliar. Lee waved three certificates. "Err... I'm also going to need to hear what Sergeant has to say about this!"
>>
>>3729620
>"I'm not coming down until I see marriage certificates!" I shouted down back to the crowd of faces, familiar and unfamiliar. Lee waved three certificates. "Err... I'm also going to need to hear what Sergeant has to say about this!"

We need to remember what happened to Mulberry, so we can give her medicine.
>>
>>3729620

>"I'm not coming down until I see marriage certificates!" I shouted down back to the crowd of faces, familiar and unfamiliar. Lee waved three certificates. "Err... I'm also going to need to hear what Sergeant has to say about this!"
>>
>>3729620

>"This is too much to handle," I said slowly. "It's going to take some time for me to acclimatise to this new Aurelius." And thus began the Negotiation.

She knows toe ails grow much slower kek
>>
>>3729621
>>3729625
>>3729630
>I, Tiberius

I pulled myself up to my feet, waving away concerned hands. "It's alright. I'm not dead. If the third fall on my head didn't kill me, nothing will."

"Your name," Scrivener Lee said urgently. "Do you remember your name?"

"Yes." I remembered. Too well, in fact. With dread and uncertainty I looked upon Hood, first of my wives. The first three head wounds had successively locked in portions of my self, but the fourth had set them free. Rampaging in my head were names and identities that had collected like unwanted knick-knacks in an ancient manorial basement.

The truth shall set you free. Who was the idiot who went around saying such irresponsible things? He ought to be crucified for spreading such drivel.

"I remember." Then I asked a question of my own, before my brief hesitation gave myself away. "Did you manage to find Rainard and his squad?"

"We found them further in the tunnel while you were recovering," Hood replied.

"And?"

She shook her head. I grimaced. Rainard was a hard man, well suited for hard jobs. That he had spearheaded the most dangerous task - that of storming through the mines where possible guerillas might have been hiding - was commendable. The loss of yet another stormtrooper squad so soon after the Ambush that had yet to heal was a travesty.

"General Teng has claimed operational command since Rainard died," Dumpling said. There was a silent chorus of dissatisfaction among the gathered brothers.

"General," I said with unrestrained disgust. Sinaeans are fascinated with cheap titles and hollow decorations. A general who does not command soldiers is merely the bandit king. But we were in no shape to dispute his command. Not until we met up with the other surviving Company units.

The prefect's plan to give the militia some training had worked at the cost of the Company's efficiency. They were just weighing us down.

"The ranger squad has accomplished our objectives," I said wearily. "Ready the troops, corporal. We are withdrawing. I think we've earned ourselves a little vacation, all things considered."

"Without orders?" Hood said.

"The General can send his complaints back to the prefect, if he wants. I have a squad to maintain, away from his clumsy leadership skills." And some very expensive ingredients to purchase from Reed.

>Chatal was the best rider among us, being Magal. I ordered him to send word to the other squads to rally in the magistracy before the General got ideas about ordering us around.

>We quietly packed and left the sacked city, just our little ranger squad. This way, there was less chance of being challenged by militiamen.
>>
>>3729701

>Chatal was the best rider among us, being Magal. I ordered him to send word to the other squads to rally in the magistracy before the General got ideas about ordering us around.

We lost too many
>>
>>3729701
>>Chatal was the best rider among us, being Magal. I ordered him to send word to the other squads to rally in the magistracy before the General got ideas about ordering us around.
>>
>>3729701
>>Chatal was the best rider among us, being Magal. I ordered him to send word to the other squads to rally in the magistracy before the General got ideas about ordering us around.
>>
>>3729710
>>3729720
>>3729725
"Aurelius," sergeant Tek waved his hands. I almost turned around before realising he was addressing me. "Looks like your men and harem got through alright," he said with a grin, which gave way to a solemn frown. "We lost too many. Sergeant Ernst is dead, so I'm kind of a half-way Lieutenant, right now. Got his lost puppies in my crew."

Sergeant Tek was the oldest Company officer in site, though not the most senior. That honour went to Lieutenant Monday, who would be herding the remaining three squads to us if Chatal was doing his job properly. Rainard had been in charge by virtue of being a stormtrooper, but he was dead.

Aurelius liked Tek. He had been an old buddy of Sergeant's when he was alive. They were similar men. Old, grizzled, and oozing with an aura of retirement. They even smoked the same dried plant matter. Times were, Sergeant and Tek would lounge around in the squad tent, filling it with the toxic fumes and driving the rest of us out. It had been annoying then. The part of me that was Aurelius missed those days.

Tiberius was more than a little miffed that I had been fraternising with junior officers.

I nodded absent-mindedly as Tek said some polite words over the death of Rainard. No one liked him. Not really. Stormtroopers preferred to remain aloof from the rest of the Company. Even so, the death of the stormtrooper and his men was not going to be easily replaced.

"People's Militia," he said. "More like the People's Republic of Shitshowstan." He lit his shortpipe and took a puff. "Look at those monkeys," he gesticulated at the chaos outside of the eye of the storm that was the magistrate complex. "Going on and on like they won the whole thing by themselves. It would have been cleaner had it been just us. Five infantry squads, one stormtrooper, and a ranger to cut off any runaways. Good thinking on the Magistracy building, by the way. Cut off the enemies' supply of weapons at the onset."

"Lucky guess," I said modestly. It hadn't been a conscious decision as much as it was a preference not to face the black-clad warriors again.

He snorted. "Luck doesn't come into it, kid. It's instinct. And inspiration. Iacob would have been proud."

"I think Sergeant would have been too busy being pissed off at the inclusion of these incompetents to be proud. Where were you sent to?"

"Me? I was with the Marcher boys. Not half bad for smalltimers. Could do with a few more well-placed kicks and a month of marching training, but solid." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Word is, their chief is talking of merging into the Company."
>>
>>3729764

"Amalgamated?"

"No. Complete infusion." It wasn't a bad idea. We were bleeding numbers, and many of them experienced men. "I don't trust their big man, though. There is something fishy about him."

"His eyes, perhaps." That got a chuckle out of him. "Who are we waiting for now? Just Monday's crew?"

"Sergeant Scrimshaw went to the luxury hostel they had at the eastern edge of the city," he replied. "They're probably drinking the spoils away, the lucky buggers."

"Or dead."

Tek raised an eyebrow. "You think they're going to get killed by some food servers?"

"No. You know those black armoured men, the ones with actual metal in their armour?" Tek nodded. One or two of their number had been scattered around as rallying points throughout the city to delay its inevitable fall. "That was there headquarters, of sorts. Then they went into the mines."

"Where Rainard and his boys met their end," Tek finished the thought. He swore. "So Scrimshaw's dead, too."

If not for a twist in fortune, that could have been Captain Xuan and me dead in the inn's courtyard instead of Scrimshaw. "Drink, and be merry," I said, badly misquoting a forgotten from dynasties past, now long forgotten, "for youth is transient. What can we do but enjoy ourselves at the zenith of youth?" I filled two bowls of the nasty stuff that Mulberry had found in the magistrate's office and handed one to the old sergeant.

He chuckled at the allusion to youth, being old enough to look like my grandfather. "Just like Scrimshaw would have wanted," Tek agreed. "Fucking drunkard. Excellent card player, too."

We drank to his name, and those of the fallen brothers. The rice-water burned in our throats as it sped through.

It seemed I was going to get the hang of being an officer, after all.

>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.

>"That's enough fraternis- I mean, drinking," I said, a little more stiff than I would have liked. "I have to see to my men for the march ahead."
>>
>>3729766

>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.

Take it easy Aurelius, keep that Tiber fucker locked away where he should never have came out of
>>
>>3729766

>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.

Sargent stories from before we joined perhaps? Our Not!father figure was gone too soon
>>
should say "a poet from dynasties past, now long forgotten".
>>
>>3729766
>>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.
>>
>>3729766

>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.
>>
>>3729766
>>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.
>>
>>3729766
We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.
>>
>>3729766

>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.
>>
>>3729774
>>3729775
>>3729780
>>3729785
>>3729811
>>3729915
Sorry for the unannounced disappearance, am extremely under the weather
>We stayed like that, reminiscing in the deaths that had crossed our lives, until Lieutenant Monday arrived with his tattered remainder of a platoon.

Tak greeted Monday when he finally arrived with his men. "G'day, Lieutenant. Talk about Mondays, huh?"

Lieutenant Monday growled, making Tak retreat, whimpering. Then he turned his tired-angry eyes to me. "Is your scrivener for some surgeries, Aurelius?"

I'd already taken out my scrivener's tools when I saw how bloodied they were. Not a single brother behind the lieutenant had escaped without a wound. "Who are the lucky men?" I asked.

The LT looked at the tattered file, ignoring Tak's "case of the Mondays" comment. "Half of them were "lucky", but only three need immediate attention."

"Best if I oversee the wounded," I said. "Lee isn't up for it." No shame in that. Surgeries and limb rescue took years to master. I wasn't a master myself, but I'd had decades of first-hand experience to fall back on. Human bodies are revoltingly alien things when undressed from the pretty skin-cover. I'd seen Xavier, the senior scrivener, stare at a dying man, completely at a loss on what to do.

"Best if we get the hell out of here," Monday replied with his infamous ill humour. He would have said more then and there, I think, but he checked himself, glaring at a quintet of unharmed fighters. The noble ponces from the Bluebloods were clustered together, slightly off to the side of the rest. "You," he pointed at me, "and you," - that was Tak - "officer's meeting."

>"Corporal Hood can take my minutes," I replied. "Scrivener's privilege, Monday." Healers like myself did have an overriding vote when it came to decisions involving the medical aspect of battle. Theoretically.

>The uglier-than-usual scowl on Monday's face was indicative of something being, well, uglier than usual. I complied wordlessly, handing the instruments to Lee. She knew how to save limbs. Theoretically.
>>
>>3732200
>>"Corporal Hood can take my minutes," I replied. "Scrivener's privilege, Monday." Healers like myself did have an overriding vote when it came to decisions involving the medical aspect of battle. Theoretically.

monday is the lt, if he thinks this is important enough to take us from the surgery
>>
>>3732200
"Corporal Hood can take my minutes," I replied. "Scrivener's privilege, Monday." Healers like myself did have an overriding vote when it came to decisions involving the medical aspect of battle. Theoretically.
>>
>>3732200

>The uglier-than-usual scowl on Monday's face was indicative of something being, well, uglier than usual. I complied wordlessly, handing the instruments to Lee. She knew how to save limbs. Theoretically.
>>
>>3732200
>>The uglier-than-usual scowl on Monday's face was indicative of something being, well, uglier than usual. I complied wordlessly, handing the instruments to Lee. She knew how to save limbs. Theoretically.
>>
>>3732200
>The uglier-than-usual scowl on Monday's face was indicative of something being, well, uglier than usual. I complied wordlessly, handing the instruments to Lee. She knew how to save limbs. Theoretically.
>>
This isn't the Lieutenant. As mentioned previously, I've retconned things so that there would be multiple Lieutenants to serve as overall leader for multiple squads. The man who was formerly the Lieutenant is now the First Lieutenant.
>>
>>3732638
Hmmm
This changes things a little
Aurelius would focus on saving brother I Think, and Hood can tell us what they are talking about, just tell jer not to do anything we wouldn't

I change to
>send hood, treat the wounded

Only if you haven't started writing yet, otherwise igbore this
>>
>>3732288
>>3732387
>>3732483
>The uglier-than-usual scowl on Monday's face was indicative of something being, well, uglier than usual. I complied wordlessly, handing the instruments to Lee. She knew how to save limbs, Theoretically.

"What is it?" I said testily. I hadn't argued against the convening of officers. That didn't mean I had to be nice about leaving men to be possibly crippled. He called it an officer's meeting, but it was really just a pretext to get us far and away from the listening ears of the Bluebloods - who were conspicuously unharmed - or the militiamen.

"Has the order from the general filtered down here?" Monday asked.

"The demand about letting ourselves be ordered around by farmers and dung-shovelers?" Tek said.

"Ah. So you haven't. He wants us to form his honour guard for his triumphant entry."

"What triumph?" I asked. "We fought against townspeople who knew more about making pottery than holding a spear and still managed to lose hundreds."

Monday sighed. He was coming to do that a lot after the drastic reorganisation that came after the Ambush that saw us forming up multiple lieutenants. The intent was to make sure such chaos from being cut off from Captain and the rest of the commanding elements never happened again. Its biggest product so far was the gift of frown lines to a lot of formerly senior sergeants. "You know what these half-arsed volunteers are like," he said. "Optics."

Soldiers of the world, trust not the general with dangling medals. It was often the most slovenly of commanders that achieve the flashiest triumphs. Massive casualty rates were miraculously transfigured like magic by clever wordsmiths into 'fierce battles', a misinterpretation of command, 'famous last charge'. All artists lied because it was in the best interest of their profession to do so. Otherwise, their ballades and poems would be littered with screaming men shitting out digestive fluids from burst intestines and the dying neighs of once-proud destriers. If there was honour in battle, it was as a casualty. We scriveners were more modest about the details. 'X died while rutting a farmer's wife, killed by pitchfork.' There wasn't a lot of paper to spare for each and every individual.

Tiberius fumed at me. For being defeatist, he said.

Tek rolled his eyes with derision worthy of any NCO toward the High Command. Then he did an impressive hahk-spit with tremendous volume. "Should I gather around some of the women to service his orifices as well? Aurelius here has a harem of beauties in his squad. Maybe he could dress them up with something suitably exotic for his tastes."

"Not in your wildest dreams." They were mine.

"You can't say what I can or cannot do in my dream, kid. Lieutenant, you didn't go along with this asshole's demands. Tell me you didn't."
>>
>>3732765

"I did." We groaned. Monday gained another frown line. "That's why we were given time to make ourselves look presentable." We stopped groaning. Sly man, our Monday. I saw now why he had been elevated among the many delightful sergeants of the Black Company. Honest. We were all such nice people. "Can the wounded be put to marching soon, scrivener?"

I thought about the sorry mess of men he'd brought in. "I don't know about marching, but they'll limp."

"Not good enough. Not fast enough. Once he realises we're leaving the city, he will send people to chase us."

"I'm a scrivener, not a god. And every minute you are keeping me away from going back to ministering to them, the longer it will take to heal."

"You've got a sorceress in your team," Monday said impatiently. "Can't she call in a storm or something?"

"A storm."

"Yeah," Tek said. "And that would make the streets all muddy and stop General Idiot from trying to conduct a parade at the height of civil unrest." Any man who was convinced he should strut around a barely conquered city was just the kind of man who would do the same in the middle of a storm. And storms weren't easy things to call up. I'd seen one of the Company wizards go catatonic after summoning a bit of wind.

Monday was good at ignoring snide remarks that other officers with a ten foot pole up their arses might have nitpicked on. He had made such comments himself when he was sergeant. "I'm not hearing other answers, only excuses."

"A very officerlike comment, if I may say so, sir." He was turning into one of them.

"You're a ranger sergeant, Aurelius."

"Still an NCO," Tek and I said simultaneously. Then we hifived.

"Fuckers," Monday said, a hint of a smile on his lips despite everything. "Fine. What ideas do you two geniuses have?"

>"I don't know, kill the general? I'm the medicine man, not the local wise man."

>"Grab uniforms from militiamen and pretend we've never held a pike before."
>>
>>3732768
>"I don't know, kill the general? I'm the medicine man, not the local wise man."
Waeboo arrow and stable rooftop it's all Hood needs
"Grab uniforms from militiamen and pretend we've never held a pike before."
kek
>>
>>3732768

>"I don't know, kill the general? I'm the medicine man, not the local wise man."

Is it breach of contract? If it isn't kill him
>>
>>3732791
How many times has she killed us with thise arrows? I'd get kinda jealous since this is personal and not some random combatant that she kills in battle, we should go with to make sure she doesn't enjoy it too much
>>
>>3732824
Contract is with Prefect, not Militia. Though Militia is kind of Prefect's Pet Project. Depends on who you ask, really.
>>
>>3732768

>"I don't know, kill the general? I'm the medicine man, not the local wise man."

>>3732791
We make it a contest to see if either Hood or Chatal go, whoever hits Aurelius first wins, we got pretty good at dodging arrows so it's a good test.

Hood would want ot because of what we said to Lee, it doesn't matter we lost our memory, we still have to pay.
And Chatal because the cave fuckery when Tiberius took over
>>
>>3732833
Eh, murky enough, we ask Dumps to glamour whoever does it as a wae
>>
>>3732768
>"I don't know, kill the general? I'm the medicine man, not the local wise man."
>>
>>3732768
>"Grab uniforms from militiamen and pretend we've never held a pike before."
Lets not kill thr guy that paid us, would look bad for us.
>>
>>3732899
he is not the guy that paid us, he is just some farmer that they gave the general title because literally, 75% of the militia is a general or higher
>>
Why is my brain telling me an actual author’s writing this quest? Just started reading this thread but I dunno. Seems super legit.
>>
>>3733857
It is amazing isn't it?
>>
>>3732791
>>3732824
>>3732847
>>3732871
Still sick so writing is drastically slowed, but here's an update
>"I don't know, kill the general? I'm the medicine man, not the local wise man."

A thoughtful look passed both Tek and Monday's faces. "That was a joke," I hastily added.

Tek slapped my shoulder. "Very morbid. I like it."

"As a joke, right?"

"Could work. An arrow in the right place... Corporal Hunt?" Monday waved for an officer whose face I did not recognise. "Do we have any Waelandish bow and arrows?"

"In the magistrate's bedroom, sir," the man replied smartly, throwing a salute. "We thought we should keep the stored weapons away from the, well..."

"The farmers playing as soldiers. Thank you, corporal." Dismissed, the man saluted again and disappeared into the throng of the wounded.

"Marcher?" I guessed. For all our battle discipline, salutes and smartly-clipped sirs were not Black Company regular. Monday nodded. "They really like their rules and regs," he said.

"Being stuck with legionaries will do that," Tek said. "Did you find out where they were last stationed? Nanman! No wonder they took a contract for Wae so eagerly."

I frowned. "Were they checked to make sure they're not spored?" The foreboding jungles played host to an uncountable number of life forms, all of which competed for their own ecological niches. That made for some thoroughly unpleasant surprises for the uninitiated traveler. Many a band of merry warriors had made forays into the untapped depth of the southwestern jungles in search of the fabled elixir of immortality, never to be seen again.

"Xavier gave them the all-clear," Monday replied. "The ones that transferred to us, at any rate." He didn't look concerned. Then again, he hadn't seen a spored man. I thought back to the dead-fish eyes of the Marcher Commandant, a man named Yueh. I wondered if it was prejudice that had driven him to his position, far and away from more honoured professions that inferred social legitimacy. After all, his was a family name steeped in historical treachery.
>>
>>3734290

But there were a hundred thousand Yuehs in the Empire, just as there were a million Wangs and Lees. Pax Imperia had made room for population growth. It would be foolish to judge an entire gens for the action of one man, however ill-fated it may have been.

I turned my mind to more immediate things. "A man wants a parade and the first thing we think of is killing him," I said sadly. "We're really fucked up."

Monday shrugged. "The man, as you so lightly put it, is in charge of a fething army and is responsible for the lives of hundreds. If he can't even conquer a lightly-defended city, then we're doing those under him a favour. Any archers in your squad, Tek?"

"Fuck no. Crossbows to the hilt. None of us had the time in our childhood to plink away with those things."

"I've got a Magal," I said. "And my corporal is pretty good with a longbow."

"Ah-h-h," Monday drawled knowingly. "Corporal Wife. The famous husbandcidal beauty. How many times has she murdered you, now? Fifty?"

"Sixty-eight," I replied. I'd been keeping count. Tek whistled.

"Let's hope we never get a sixty-nine," the lieutenant said with a straight face. "Send her to requisition the islanders' bow and arrow from Hunt. I want this to be as authentic as possible. She should also wear those fancy samurai armours, if we have a suit that isn't too roughed up."

>"Just something plain and native will do," I said. We were going to get one shot at this, two at most, after which we would run away, and that armour was not meant for any sort of stealth marathon. The belted plates of lacquered leather rattled as they moved, and there was the possibility of friendly fire due to mistaken identity.

>I nodded. It would be difficult to avoid being seen while on the run. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely for random peasants to know how to fire a longbow. There is a very good reason the Company issues crossbows instead.
>>
>>3734292
>>I nodded. It would be difficult to avoid being seen while on the run. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely for random peasants to know how to fire a longbow. There is a very good reason the Company issues crossbows instead.
>>
>>3734292

>"Just something plain and native will do," I said. We were going to get one shot at this, two at most, after which we would run away, and that armour was not meant for any sort of stealth marathon. The belted plates of lacquered leather rattled as they moved, and there was the possibility of friendly fire due to mistaken identity.
>>
Question because I don't know if its possible, can Dumpling glamour the armor over Hood?
>>
>>3734292
>>I nodded. It would be difficult to avoid being seen while on the run. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely for random peasants to know how to fire a longbow. There is a very good reason the Company issues crossbows instead.

Any militiamen that manage to catch would sadly be ambushed by local guerillas that prove impossible to catch

Also, pre determined escape routes
>>
>>3734321
>Do both to be safe.
Chatal in armor on a horse with local bow and arrows.
Hood in plain and native clothes with local bow and arrows.
If we have one bow let Chatal use his own.
>>
>>3734292
>>3734388
I linked my vote to wrong post
>>
Why are we killing this guy?

He asked us to be the honour guard in a parade?

I’m waiting for the inevitable critfall that gets Hood killed.
>>
>>3734564
This is Black Company, everyone's gotta die some time.
>>
>>3734292

>"Just something plain and native will do," I said. We were going to get one shot at this, two at most, after which we would run away, and that armour was not meant for any sort of stealth marathon. The belted plates of lacquered leather rattled as they moved, and there was the possibility of friendly fire due to mistaken identity.
>>
>>3734571
Unless its hood, I'm already making plans for that immortality elixir>>3734572
>>
>>3734564
Because he wants to waste time parading instead of actually doing anything to reinforce the defenses.

Also because he thinks he can order us around like his yokels
>>
>>3734714
I think its more of the fact that the town is not pacified and a parade is inviting for trouble and we don't wantbto put our brothers in danger
>>
>>3734714
Can we not persuade him to focus on pacifying the town and rebuilding the defences?

>>3734723
Aren’t we putting them in danger by organising this assassination attempt?
>>
>>3734292

>"Just something plain and native will do," I said. We were going to get one shot at this, two at most, after which we would run away, and that armour was not meant for any sort of stealth marathon. The belted plates of lacquered leather rattled as they moved, and there was the possibility of friendly fire due to mistaken identity.

Lee can come up with some story about stealthy Wae assassins that operate in the shadpw and come from some bullshit bloodline like Hanzo or something
>>
>>3734292

>I nodded. It would be difficult to avoid being seen while on the run. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely for random peasants to know how to fire a longbow. There is a very good reason the Company issues crossbows instead
>>
>>3734321
It's possible but not the most economic use of a sorcerer, because she can cause some serious distractions

>>3734381
>>3734836
Ork snipers?

>>3734564
Because of the result of the votes from the previous choice and what >>3734714 + >>3734723 said

>>3734571
Good mindset to have

>>3734580
Very dangerous mindset to have

>>3734779
Some people just aren't very reasonable. Also he wants to be as safe as possible while accomplishing this "feat", hence his ordering of the BC elements to protect him

Unimportant health update: Headaches are mostly gone now

Looks like we have a tie, goodie
>>
>>3734992
I can change to >noded if she's gonna have support from Aurelius or the squad, or maybe even Dumpling magic to blind those following her because even if having armor is good, it's difficult to escape on it.]
>>
>>3735021
Yeah this is very much a squad operation. She and Chatal aren't going in duo.
>>
>>3735030
let's go with
>>I nodded. It would be difficult to avoid being seen while on the run. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely for random peasants to know how to fire a longbow. There is a very good reason the Company issues crossbows instead.

after they reach a safe place they can just shed the armors and wear normal clothes underneath to try and loose the persuers
>>
Calling votes now, writing
>>
Wrote three outlines and deleted them all. I think I'm really not in a position to write it, or at least, write it competently. I apologise to those who were waiting. Head not working proper. I'll see if I can write it out once I get better.
>>
>>3735176
take your time dude
>>
>>3735176
Get better QM, your writing is very pleasant but you should focus on being healthy. Have a nice one.
>>
>>I nodded. It would be difficult to avoid being seen while on the run. Furthermore, it was highly unlikely for random peasants to know how to fire a longbow. There is a very good reason the Company issues crossbows instead.

For all my reservations on the hit, I watched with little reaction as the general died. Today must have been his greatest day, I thought. To be able to proclaim, "I have made a military victory," is a feat all would-be kings dream of. And what are generals, if not kings in training? Swords and bows separate the ruler and the ruled. Royal right was earned by bloody combat, not some divine mandate from the heavens.

"Time to run," I said. Hood nodded. We clambered down the rooftops of the temple where we had taken position as screams and strange noises abounded. Dumpling's specialty was audial hallucinations, but she'd rarely had opportunities to practice them, the visual arts being more prized for warfare. It was coming into full play, now. The cloudless sky thundered above our heads as Hood and I fell against the ground, softened by hay. That was going to give them something to talk about. Heavenly displeasure toward the general, maybe. We humans are very willing to believe the supernatural, after all.

"The hay was a nice touch," Hood said sarcastically. "Almost didn't break my leg."

"I couldn't get anything softer in short notice." Something in my voice must have alerted her to a danger. Hood reached out to me, and I flinched.

She said, "I know."

She squeezed my hand briefly, letting me know there was no offense meant. These little gestures save marriages. Learn them, memorise them. The tensions that rise up like the fever fogs of fetid blackpools in Nanman are able to make even the tenderest of husbands into a divorcee. And I was not tender. Tiberius had been a very angry man.

Footsteps were getting closer. That was unexpected, given the severe lack of martial readiness in the Militia, but it was not unprepared for. The gods enjoy pitting mortals to dangers so that they may witness the ensuing carnage. I glanced up to the skies. The ominous Red Star was there, a constant reminder of what the Emperor had done to conquer the world. "Knives?"

"Always." Better to kill me with. Why not a double suicide? It would be poetic, in a way, Aurelius. And you have so loved your dinky little poems.

I drew my sword, an unassuming simple thing. It was so simple that I was beginning to doubt my memories. Perhaps Tiberius was another person. Or Throne in one of his disguises. But the voice, the mannerisms, the ticks - hiding of my eyes, looking on the ground - they were me and mine. I was that man.
>>
>>3735420
The footsteps slowed to a measured pace. Proud. Arrogant. Confident in the knowledge that their prey were cornered. No clumsy volunteers, they. Hood stepped back warily, combat daggers clutched. Heart of my heart, love of my love. I wish you would take up safer instruments of war.

Three Bluebloods stood blocking the only exit from this alleyway. Their armour were individualistic as their owners. One of them, bearing that golden glint in the eye. Our curse. My ancestor's legacy. The other two were merely Sinaean nobles. But every single Bluebloods came from families in high regard, which is a polite way of calling them filthy rich. The Bluebloods were a small but "highly regarded" mercenary company that fought more for the pleasure of killing than for any pay, for no one would be able to pay them what they might demand. And almost always, they had with them weapons and arms of magical nature.

Some of them even went back to becoming the head of their houses after slaughtering their kinsmen with knowledge gleaned from the battlefield. A practical school of warriors, the Banded Brotherhood. And their Bluebloods were the product of surviving in the noble-filled niche. No one can truly despise nobles like other nobles.

Just as I despised them now, Tiberius and Aurelius both. "Step aside, Traian. There is no need for relative blood to be shed."

"Relative?" he sneered, perfect crimson lips twisting to meticulously practiced curves. "I should kill you and your sow just for that. Half-breed like you are lower than the earth you step on." He unsheathed his longsword, a defiant cry against legionary tradition. Sinaean jian, was it? So he was going native. It was a beautiful thing, I had to admit. All silvery smooth surface that reflected my face as he turned its flat against me in a two-handed grip. "This was my gift," he said with an infuriatingly suave voice. Never let it be said that the Emperor was not a handsome man. "Someone upstairs really wants you dead, blood traitor. I almost want to capture you alive, just to find out what you did. But as you blackwings say, a contract is a contract."

A belated realisation. "You didn't fight at all, did you?" No weapon and armour can remain so pristine in combat condition. If not chips and blooding, there comes wear and tear from running around in a smoking, burning city.

He was affronted by the question, as if it did him dirty. "Fight, in this mudhole? You truly shock me, relative. Why would we sully our hands when you were doing so very well, all by yourselves?"
>>
>>3735424

He wasn't here to capture me and parade our betrayal against the general. They must have been keeping an eye on me all this time. I hadn't bothered to change out outfits after leaving the magistracy complex. "Cowards," I hissed. High Imperial is not a very smooth language to curse in. Even in the foulest of words the very nature of the words lent them a kind of majesty. "Even the dumbfucks of the militia managed to swing their spears. Meanwhile you stood around and watched them get butchered."

"Hush, child," my beautiful nephew said haughtily. "No more lip. I will do what the censores should have done." And with a lightly tapping forward step that belied the weight of his silvery-scaled armour, he began moving forward.

>A flash of metal and men; Tiberius met sword to gladius. [Legionarius]

>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue. Do you trust me? A dearly used catchphrase of mine, so often uttered right before giving them reason to regret doing so. It was always so much easier to apologise than ask for permission.
>>
>>3735191
It is I think more a matter of inspiration than health. Some of my best pieces were written while I was sick. I'm more or less perpetually ill, it merely fluctuates in between the horrid and the merely unpleasant.
>>
>>3735440

>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue

Well, if we prepared something let's use it
>>
>>3735483
Did we prepare something?
>>
>>3735440

>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue.
>>
>>3735513
Do you trust me?
>>
>>3735440
>>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue. Do you trust me? A dearly used catchphrase of mine, so often uttered right before giving them reason to regret doing so. It was always so much easier to apologise than ask for permission.
>>
>>3735570
You? No, not really kek. But Aurelius would rather die before putting his wife in a gamble he was not sure it had the best chance of success.
>>
>>3735440
>A flash of metal and men; Tiberius met sword to gladius. [Legionarius]

Ill be outvoted but I have been enjoying insanity quest.
>>
>>3735440

>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue
>>
>>3735440
>>A flash of metal and men; Tiberius met sword to gladius. [Legionarius]
>>
>>3735440
>>A flash of metal and men; Tiberius met sword to gladius. [Legionarius]
Come coward, let me show you how a Legate fights
>>
>>3735440
>>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue.

guys, don't be cocky, it's 3 guys with magic items, I don't think we can win this, I mean, we lost to 2 samurais
>>
Again what was the point of all this? Put ourselves and Hood in mortal danger for no reason.
>>
>>3736618
Have you not read any of the responses? Or the QM post?
>>
>>3735483
>>3735519
>>3735584
>>3735825
>>3736384
>>Aurelius knew that I was at a severe disadvantage. "Do you trust me?" I asked Hood in Coin as we moved back to the haycart, hoping that neither Sinaean duo nor Traian had bothered learning the commoners' trade tongue.

Do you trust me? A dearly used catchphrase of mine, so often uttered right before giving them reason to regret doing so. It was always so much easier to apologise than ask for permission.

She knew that look. "What are you planning-"

There was no time. Venus forgive me, I kicked her.

It wasn't a gentle kick. It was meant to disable, and disable it did. Her eyes widened, lungs shorting out as air pressured out of her body. She fell against the haycart. The thing had been hitched riderless and animal-less, an unintended see-saw with its twin wheels as the fulcrum. I lent my weight to the other side with a jump. Hood was catapulted away to safety, out and over the many-walled streets.

The city of Iwari-Ginzan was a maze of walls. That would give her enough time to recover if these nobles decided to chase her.

"Why would you outnumber yourself?" Traian asked, having paused to watch my little antics. "Are you so confident in your skills that you would worsen the odds?"

"Not at all." I may die tonight. What a fantastic venue of death, if it were so. The sun was burning off its last spurt of defiance toward the night as it climbed down the distant snow-capped peak of Fujisan, shedding a cascade of autumn in the winter sky. I smiled. "But she is safe."

"A common Eskhatan whore," he said. "What is it that makes you die for her?"

>"Who said anything about dying?" Tiberius replied. "Come, stripling. Let me show you how the legionary fights."

>I didn't have to win. My hope was that Hood had enough presence of mind to call for reinforcements. Black Company members had been seeded around the escape route in case we were routed.
It was a matter of trust. Did Hood think I could survive, dragging out the fight while she ran for help? I hoped so. If she returned here to fight herself, it would be all over.
>>
>>3736849
>>"Who said anything about dying?" Tiberius replied. "Come, stripling. Let me show you how the legionary fights."
>>
>>3736849
>I didn't have to win. My hope was that Hood had enough presence of mind to call for reinforcements. Black Company members had been seeded around the escape route in case we were routed.
>>
>>3736849
>I didn't have to win. My hope was that Hood had enough presence of mind to call for reinforcements. Black Company members had been seeded around the escape route in case we were routed.

Arg, let's hope she does the smart thing
>>
>>3736849
>>"Who said anything about dying?" Tiberius replied. "Come, stripling. Let me show you how the legionary fights."

I think tiberius fights better than us, maybe we forgot a thing or two about it too
>>
>>3736883
I can change to
>i didn't have ro win
To untie this
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>3736862
>>3736873
>>3736934
>>
>>3737048
I hope 1 meant she went for reinforcements, come on Hood my dear I believe in you! And please don't murder Aurelius too much for the kick kek
>>
>I didn't have to win. My hope was that Hood had enough presence of mind to call for reinforcements. Black Company members had been seeded around the escape route in case we were routed.

It was a matter of trust. Did Hood think I could survive, dragging out the fight while she ran for help? I hoped so. If she returned here to fight herself, it would be all over.

"You shouldn't be so rude to your aunt, nephew," I admonished. The longer we talked, the less we would fight. And I had no wish to see Death so soon after what happened the last time.

"You are no uncle of mine," he said with an utter lack of regard for my feelings. It hurt me more than I thought it would.

Given the complicated nature of Alexandrian family trees (more of interconnected vines), such familial titles as nephew, sister, brother - so on and so forth were more indications of affection and closeness of individuals. Traian's mother had been a bright little thing, eager to soak up new knowledge alongside her 'brother' in the Bibliotheca. Many a rainy evening had we spent together, she and I, skipping through the showcased artefacts, I pointing out the backstories of the rusted shield of Phrancia or the broken sceptre of Germanicus the Rebel, and little Flavia walking down the corridors with a solemn look.

Then she had grown up and become party to the Great Game. I'd never talked to her after that.

"Taking up commoner concubines," he continued, piercing me with every bitten-off word. "Debasing your blood, or what little you have left from all that mingling - your entire line is a disappointment, bastard. And to think, I almost looked up to you when you were in the legions." He looked with a condescending pity only Alexandrians can pull off so viciously. "My mother told me so many things of you, Tiberius. Lofty things. That you had been a mighty hero despite your blood, tainted with that servant girl's. The campaigns in Khulan, where you saved Belisarius himself!"

And lost my standard-bearer in the same battle. "You have no idea what you are talking about."

"Of course I do," he said, eyes gleaming pale. "Such honours and decorations you reaped in your heydays. Surely you have not forgotten what happened to the farmers of Oesgrimm? Ten thousand cultists of Inanna put to the sword in a day! You and your Tenth were the flowers of Imperial soldiery."

I closed my eyes. Please, do not let Hood be in earshot. "Shut up."

"And who could forget the destruction of Alexandria Eskhata? Tiberius the Legate truly outdid himself that night."

He just had to say it.
>>
>>3737119
>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...
Nothing silences a man quicker than death.
Family comes first. Sometimes, that means a little bit of obfuscating lies, served with a side dish of murder. Not that Traian was going to walk away free today. It was either him or me.
"You wanted Tiberius? Fine. I'll give you your Tiberius."

>"I don't want to kill you, Traian. I loved your mother like my own sister. Don't make her mourn over your dead body." They were indeed my mistakes to own up to. If Hood was listening, if she was in hearing range to all these accusations of sins, then it was only justice.
Tyche makes use of strange emissaries to mete out her cruel fantasies. Even so, I resolved to make him dither as long as possible. Draw out his verbal frustrations, goad him to wasting time. That might just get me out of this with my life attached.
>>
>>3737131
>>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...

if there is someone who is going to tell her, it's Aurelius
>>
>>3737133
>"I don't want to kill you, Traian. I loved your mother like my own sister. Don't make her mourn over your dead body." They were indeed my mistakes to own up to. If Hood was listening, if she was in hearing range to all these accusations of sins, then it was only justice.
Tyche makes use of strange emissaries to mete out her cruel fantasies. Even so, I resolved to make him dither as long as possible. Draw out his verbal frustrations, goad him to wasting time. That might just get me out of this with my life attached.

I don't care for the boy, but we owe it to who his mother was
>>
>>3737133

>"I don't want to kill you, Traian. I loved your mother like my own sister. Don't make her mourn over your dead body." They were indeed my mistakes to own up to. If Hood was listening, if she was in hearing range to all these accusations of sins, then it was only justice.
>>
>>3737133
>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...

Unleash it.
>>
>>3737133
>>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...
>Nothing silences a man quicker than death.
>Family comes first. Sometimes, that means a little bit of obfuscating lies, served with a side dish of murder. Not that Traian was going to walk away free today. It was either him or me.
>"You wanted Tiberius? Fine. I'll give you your Tiberius."
>>
>>3737133
>>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...
>Nothing silences a man quicker than death.
>Family comes first. Sometimes, that means a little bit of obfuscating lies, served with a side dish of murder. Not that Traian was going to walk away free today. It was either him or me.
>"You wanted Tiberius? Fine. I'll give you your Tiberius."
>>
>>3737133
>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...
>>
>>3737141
>>3737156
>>3737161
>>3737171
>>3737196
>Was Hood nearby? Was she returning already, having found our brothers to aid me? Either way, I couldn't risk this fool of a relative blabbing more. Words hold an edge like no steel can. Hood's had been nurtured against all things Imperial since childhood. If she were to know, if she found out...

Nothing silences a man quicker than death.

Family comes first. Sometimes, that means a little bit of obfuscating lies, served with a side dish of murder. Not that Traian was going to walk away free today. It was either him or me. "You wanted Tiberius?" I growled. "Fine. I'll give you your Tiberius."


Scrivener Xenia had this to say regarding the few Alexandrians who, after having been banished from the Capital for whatever reason, joined the Company: "They are brilliant. They are insane. Wherever they are, whatever they do, they commit and accomplish atrocities and exploits unimaginable by the rest of us. It is as if there is a common impetus behind those golden eyes that drive them to ever-increasing heights of ambition."

It's quite simple to make marks in history if you live long enough. And they are rarely in the good side. Many an Alexandrian had lived who would have become renowned as philanthropists and wise men, only for their biographies to be tainted with later deeds. Certainly, they must have had their reservations and doubts. A good man does not turn evil by the simple flick of a switch. It is instead the consistent water-droplet that bores the hole on the rock. No doubt many of those past Alexandrians, named tyrants and devourers by their victims, had their own grievances. Many would try to defend their names, saying, "I had to do it! I had to do such-and-such, lest another thing happen."

But history moves on, and the judgement of humanity is unforgiving. Who would care that I was doing this to save my family, shroud them in the comfortable lies and darkness that preserved every human relationship? Which one of you would not have done the same?

Excusatio non petita, accusatio manifesta. I implicated myself with each defense of my act. Let us call it what it is: kinslaying.

And if I was going to do this, I was going to do it properly.
>>
>>3737209

-=-
(1) Prayer to Those On High and Below

>Mars Invictus! [Legionarius]
The dreaded Crimson Star has never left the skies ever since the Emperor conquered the lands. Veteran legionaries pray to their martial god by wounding themselves before particularly fierce battles in an act of devotio.
Martial Valour = 1 Wound is self-inflicted, either +1d10 to Squad Combat DC (Squad Combat extant) OR gain +1 Damage (personal combat only)

The Red Star looms.

>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
More than a man, less than a god. He was general and warrior, brute and scholar both. Dead though he may be, his actions linger on to affect the world in myriad ways...
Survivor = Extra die for Divine Constitution

Belief fuels Truth.

>Dark Mother, Preserve your Son... [Black Company Elite]
Little is known even to the scriveners of the Black Company of the goddess and her death cult that spawned their venerable brotherhood and its eleven siblings, save for the unassuming detail that they were located in enigmatic Khatovar. Almost no one in the Black Company worships her in earnest, yet in times of trouble, all brothers find prayers to her name to boost flagging arms and give unerring precision.
Seduction of Tyche = roll an additional die for Personal Combat

My Mistress abandoned heaven, abandoned the joys of heaven, and descended to the Underworld.
>>
>>3737217
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>More than a man, less than a god. He was general and warrior, brute and scholar both. Dead though he may be, his actions linger on to affect the world in myriad ways...
>Survivor = Extra die for Divine Constitution
>>
>>3737217

>Dark Mother, Preserve your Son... [Black Company Elite]

We will have to talk to Hood, we can't live like this
>>
>>3737217

>Dark Mother, Preserve your Son... [Black Company Elite]
>>
>>3737217

>Dark Mother, Preserve your Son... [Black Company Elite]
Little is known even to the scriveners of the Black Company of the goddess and her death cult that spawned their venerable brotherhood and its eleven siblings, save for the unassuming detail that they were located in enigmatic Khatovar. Almost no one in the Black Company worships her in earnest, yet in times of trouble, all brothers find prayers to her name to boost flagging arms and give unerring precision.
Seduction of Tyche = roll an additional die for Personal Combat

>>3737232
I actually hope she heard something, we have to put this to rest or forget like we did before
>>
>>3737217
>Dark Mother, Preserve your Son... [Black Company Elite]
>>
>>3737217
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>>
>>3737217
>>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
nuh uh, you got Prince and that's enough
>>
>>3737209
>>
>>3737217
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>>3737292
I'm retarded
>>
>>3737288
dude, this is just the battle bonus, not the lifetime faith of the dude, and an extra dice for combat seems really important here
>>
>>3737217
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]
>>
>>3737228
>>3737276
>>3737288
>>3737295
>>3737299
>>Deus Imperator Vult! [Imperial Heir]

"You think the Emperor will answer you, a half-breed?" Traian snapped.

"Master, his eyes..." the woman standing demurely behind him with fish scale armour pointed.

"A trick of the fading light," he replied with less certainty. "Nothing more. Bastards are known for their trickster nature. Esteban?" he turned beseechingly to his other companion, whose weaponless hands clawed to emit tiny sparks.

"Primitive religions are nothing to the power of sorcery. He's good as dead, Traian. Just don't forget what you owe me." This one was all confidence. And well he should be. Ensorcelled were truly a breed apart from mankind.

But so were we Alexandrians.

-=-

[Please note that modifications have been made to make facing multiple opponents slightly more deadly, as it should be.]

(2) Opponent

> Ts'Viet warrior-lady
> Xirong Ensorcelled
> Traian, Nephew
>>
>>3737323
Xirong Ensorcelled
>>
>>3737323
> Xirong Ensorcelled


We really needed that extra dice, we fucked up
>>
>>3737323
> Xirong Ensorcelled

Geek the mage
>>
>>3737323
>> Xirong Ensorcelled
>>
>>3737327
>>3737329
>>3737331
>>3737336
-=-

Xirong is the collective ethnonym awarded by the ignorant Sinaeans to refer to all those who come from beyond the Golden Pass at the extreme west of the Empire. But in truth, I could not figure out what race of man he was. Esteban. An unfamiliar tongue. There was a hint of the High Imperial, garbled and provincialised though it may be.

Regardless of his background, it was clear he was Ensorcelled, and this time I did not need my ears to tell. He was garbed in all sorts of bizarre and definitely unmilitary robes with little hint of jangling metal save for his amulets. Casters such as they are wildcards, prone to shooting out lightning as much as they transform trees to become warriors. I knew I had to remove him first.

-=-
Sergeant-Scrivener Tiberius: Rejuvenated
>Personal Combat = +123DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran X +50DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legatus) +25DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Outnumbered III -30DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV, Iron Buckler +5DC]
>Special = Sword of the Emperor (+1 Reroll per Turn) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC66)

VS

Esteban, Xirong Sorcerer: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +121DC [Healthy +5DC, Veteran +5DC, Skilled +2DC, Ensorcelled +20DC, Elite (Blueblood) +10DC, Sorcerous Endurance +2DC, Exceptional Will +1DC, Mastercrafted hardleather armour +10DC, Psychic Hood +33DC, Cryptic Talisman +3DC, Numeric Superiority III +30DC]
>Armour Value = 30AV [Mastercrafted hardleather armour +20AV, Ensorcelled +10AV]
>Spell = Actinic Burst

Personal Combat DC52
>3d100
Defending from Traian
>1d100
Defending from Ts'Viet Warrior Woman
>1d100
>>
Rolled 29, 38, 70, 37, 32 = 206 (5d100)

>>3737382
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>3737382
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>3737382
Rolling
>>3737386
Take the first at least?
>>
>>3737394
Yep
>>
We need more rolls?
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>3737382
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>3737382
>>
>>3737404
>>3737394
I jist rolled for all of them didnt knwo if that was what we wore doing
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

AV
>>
>>3737386
>>3737388
>>3737394
>>3737424
>>3737432
>3 Success
>Defended from Traian
>Defended from Ts'Viet
>3 Wounds dealt, Bleed success

They came to me as individuals, wrriors instead of soldiers. One on one, they would have been magnificent and likely overwhelmed me, had I been merely Aurelius. But there is more to fighting together than individual excellence. The things I would do, to feel the security of being in one steady legionary rank.

I focused on the sorcerer. Muttering, swaying, dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, the olive-skinned figure was preparing to blast away with powers stolen from the land of dreams. Lightning threatened to loose from his balled fists. I lopped them off, one downswing, one upswing. Before the shocked sorcerer could do something verbal-only to knock me off my feet, I grabbed his shoulder blade with my left hand - like partners together in an intimate dance - and shoved with my right.

Warmth trickled through my gauntlet and I saw the horror in the dead man's eyes. "I was destined for greater things," he mumbled, words only I could hear as I spun around to put the man between me and the remaining Bluebloods, an improvised shield as I listened to his last words. He was no Black Company. But I had been a romantic, even in my legionary days. "Death doesn't care about our little story-lives."

"But I was an Ensorcelled. Chosen to wield such powers...!"

"Even the Emperor could not stave off the end."

"No, Lord," he said, eyes already paling away, grey turning milk with the very last of sighs. "If he were dead, I would see him, a titan in the sea. Only the dead swim here. Father... it is very cold." He shivered once, and loosened his bowels into his robe. Stink rose warm and fetid from between the man's legs. And he died.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" I said as I closed his dead eyes and threw him to the side. "And they say wars are glorious."

His eyes flicked to the corpse. "I thought Ensorcelled didn't die easy."

I glanced at my sword. It simply lay to my side, dripping blood innocently. There were no signs of glowing with the light of the moon or having hidden rows of ancient runes. Just a simple ivory-hilted gladius with good steel, aged but well cared for.

I shrugged. "Luck."

"Stand still for but a moment, and you will see how long that luck lasts against my new sword."

I declined his gracious invitation. I had a family to look after.
>>
>>3737531

-=-
Sergeant-Scrivener Tiberius: Rejuvenated
>Personal Combat = +123DC [Rejuvenated +10DC, Veteran X +50DC, Skilled III +6DC, Elite (Legatus) +25DC, Unnatural Strength +2DC, Unnatural Endurance +2DC, Unnatural Will +2DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Heir +20DC, Parthian Plate +15DC, Cavalryman's Helm +6DC, Gladius Hispaniensis +10DC, Iron Buckler +5DC, Outnumbered III -30DC]
>Armour Value = 55AV [Parthian plate +40AV, Cavalryman's helm +10AV, Iron Buckler +5DC]
>Special = Sword of the Emperor (+1 Reroll per Turn) (2 Success = Bleed) (Never disarmed), Divine Constitution (+1 Wound regeneration on DC66)

VS

Traian, Blueblood, Nephew: Healthy
>Personal Combat = +101DC [Healthy +5DC, Veteran II +10DC, Skilled IV +8DC, Elite (Blueblood) +10DC, Unnatural Endurance +1DC, Divine Bloodline: Imperial Familia +10DC, Masterwork Plate +13DC, Runic Helm +3DC, Eagle-Crested Clipeus +8DC, Silver Blade +13DC, Numeric Superiority II +20DC]
>Armour Value = 30AV [Masterwork Plate +35AV, Runic Helm +10DC, Eagle-Crested Clipeus +7DC]
>Special = Vorpal Blade, Divine Constitution, Defensive Runes

Personal Combat DC72
>3d100
Defending from Ts'Viet Warrior Woman
>1d100
>>
>>3737532
Should be 82, since it's Outnumbered II now
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>3737532
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>3737532
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>3737532
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

Vorpal
>>
Rolled 100, 54, 59 = 213 (3d100)

and AV
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>3737532
>>
>>3737553
>>3737558
Well they wanted Tiberius and they got him I guess.
>>
>>3737559
The woman nicked us I think
>>
>>3737536
>>3737543
>>3737547
>>3737559
>3 Success
>Dealt 3 Wounds, Bleed success
>Failed to defend from Ts'Viet woman's attacks, 2 Wounds

His weapon shimmered. That is the only way I could describe it. The blade was flat. I'd seen my face mirrored against its surface before the duel began in earnest. But when it neared me, when those deadly edges closed in against my body, it positively coruscated with its eagerness to cut and slash and maim, ultimately to kill.

But the weapon does not make the fighter. Traian's nerveless fingers lost grip of his special sword. It dropped without a sound on the snowed in ground, making a deep impresion of a fallen sword against its much disturbed surface.

The woman screamed in anguish as he fell, knees folding up like a wooden marionette. Ichor gushed in copious amounts, far more than exists in a man's body, as Traianus shook minutely, limbs going through contracting spasms. The blood that made us so difficult to kill was rapidly emptying out of the scion.

Once more I had the uncanny feeling that this sword was more than it appeared to be. It had never needed sharpening in the years I'd used it, holding its edge unnaturally well. Further thought was caught short. Instead of mourning, she had used her anger to fuel a rapid thrust that I did not see coming.

It was a good hit. Her lance tip gored against my liver. And it fucking hurt. I was refreshed by the jolt of pain. It was a good reminder that battles were deadly to both sides, and accidents always happened. I might have gotten cocky with how quick this battle was resolved.

"You loved him?" I asked. She returned my question with a hate-filled glare. Had I been less competent in killing people, it could have been Hood as the woman, and Traianus as the man. Maybe my relatives had it right, after all. Maybe we belonged in our gilded cage, walled away in the Capital, where we could not do so much damage with humans blessed with normalcy.

I resolved to gobble three of those damned pills as soon as I secured its ingredients and synthesised them. Remembering made me far too moody for my own good. For a moment, I had been considering leaving it all behind, newborn children included. I did say I would make a terrible father.
>>
>>3737623

In the distance, there was the clatter of metal, the running of feet. Atta girl, Hood. You did the thing I wanted you to do, instead of the one your heart screamed for. "Run," I said. "Before they come. You will die."

"I am already dead." The speared man seriously urging the spearing woman to run away. It would have been a hilarious sight to any passerby, were he of a psychopathic bent. "Die for me, Alexandrian. We can kill each other. Let me rest in peace, knowing that the killer of the man I loved is dead."

"I can't do that," I said firmly. "I have people who are waiting for me."

She stared. "I thought you Alexandrians never loved those without your... eyes."

"They don't," I agreed. "I'm only a halfbreed. A bastard, as Traian said. I hardly count as one of them."

"But your father..."

"Was a failure of a man, even at being an Alexandrian. And he was born one. Imagine that." I chuckled. Ichor mixed with air.

She loosened her hold on her spear. Loss made her voice hollow. "Why did he have to die?"

"Ah, that is one for the philosophers," I said. "I imagine it goes something like this: kill or be killed. Man is wolf against other man. It's a dog eat dog world. I could go on."

She looked at me with hard eyes, reddening eyes.

"Please don't cry," I said quickly. It was something of a relief, I admit, to realise that Tiberius was equally weak to women's tears. Of course he was. He was me. Years of being on the road with strange medicines were making me confuse my self.

Still, it was nice. The little ache in the heart. It is the little things that humanises us all.

She wrenched the spearhead from my gut, a tad forcefully than necessary, I thought. I looked down. My platebody was mangled in that one point. Whatever magic had worked to do that, I did not want it touching me ever again. The spear's metal head had that same shimmery falseness of Traian's silver sword. I watched it glimmer in twilight gloom as its longer-bladed twin had, as it fell from its wielder's hands. She unsheathed a completely ordinary dagger.

For the last time that day, I was reminded of just how vulnerable the human body could be.

>"Oh for fuck's sake," I said, trying to hold close the wound. Wait, why was I trying to save the woman who had almost killed me? This was an unproductive use of my time, even by Aurelius' standards.

>I watched her fall impassively, holding my own gut back inside. In her dying breaths, she crawled toward the man who had never loved her back. I felt that had to say something about human nature. Something poignant and timeless. If only I could figure out what it was.
>>
>>3737646

>"Oh for fuck's sake," I said, trying to hold close the wound. Wait, why was I trying to save the woman who had almost killed me? This was an unproductive use of my time, even by Aurelius' standards.

I won't watch again as someone bleed out like we did with the stormtrooper
>>
>>3737646

>"Oh for fuck's sake," I said, trying to hold close the wound. Wait, why was I trying to save the woman who had almost killed me? This was an unproductive use of my time, even by Aurelius' standards.
>>
>>3737646

>I watched her fall impassively, holding my own gut back inside. In her dying breaths, she crawled toward the man who had never loved her back. I felt that had to say something about human nature. Something poignant and timeless. If only I could figure out what it was.

She made a bad choice. Can't save em all.
>>
>>3737646

>"Oh for fuck's sake," I said, trying to hold close the wound. Wait, why was I trying to save the woman who had almost killed me? This was an unproductive use of my time, even by Aurelius' standards.
>>
>>3737660
>>3737662
>>3737671
Compensating for Past Faults

Medical Assistance DC20
I was going to make it 1d100, but I'll give you bo3
>>
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>3737690
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>3737690
Yeah, thats not happening with a 20 kek
But hey, it's worth a try.
>>
Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>3737690
>>
>>3737706
I'll be damned.
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>>3737742
me too, since we came back from life and fucked up the ritual we seem to be rolling okish
>>
I wonder if our daughter turned out to be a cunt too, every alexandrian we met are assholes kek.
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>>3737755
Almost certainly.
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>>3737746
I wonder if that ritual was actually fucking with our dice in the meta sense.
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>3737690
>>
>>3737942
it couldn't be fucking since it was full of virgins
>>
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>>3738028
>We have more in common with sacrificial royalty than with our fellow man
Of all things to keep in mind, it was that thought to be brought up.
Maybe it explains why some of us like anime girls who are also knights. Maybe i'm just acting like a overthinking faggot on that front. Or maybe it's just simply that we all enjoy the asethic form of tits and ass and everything in between.
Yeah it's probably the titties and asses. Can't be just the armor fetish or handholding...
>>
>>3737755
Fox doesn't seem like an ass, grantrd we haven't talked much to him
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>>3738476
He is, remember him talking shit about chatal or just being an ass in general?
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>>3738529
That seems to be an Imperial prejudice rather than an Alexandrian one
>>
>>3738529
I think that's just Legionary indoctrination more than anything else
>>
>>3737706
"Remind me. Why did I not send you to the stormtrooper corps?"

"I am too lovable too die? You want me around instead of being sent into the meatgrinder of half-life expectancy?"

"Three versus one is no mean feat, Aurelius," Captain said. "It's actually pretty amazing. I don't think a stormtrooper would have survived that." There was a lot of work on her plate, and it showed. Dark rings under her eyes and a general pallor of overwork draped her. Marchers were being assimilated into the Black Company, and that meant comparing pay, doling out compensations for those leaving, making sure the weapons inventories were consistent... a whole lot of scrivener work. But Captain was a detailed person. She liked to look into these things herself.

"As I mentioned in the report, it was sheer luck. The sorcerer's spell fizzled and exsanguinated the Alexandrian. After that, it was just a matter of making sure they stayed dead."

"Now I know you are lying. You are many things, but lucky is not one of them." She cupped her head, her fierce blue eyes no less sharper for being stuck on paperwork duty. "It's a prestigious post, being a stormtrooper. A lot of people would enjoy the double pay."

No thanks. I liked life. "Let's not forget that it's actually called hazard pay. They're paid well because their life expectancy is shorter than other company members by half."

"You scriveners love to quibble the merest details. Very well, I won't press the matter. I'm sure Lieutenant Hark would object to involuntary conscripts in his corps." She sighed and took out another paper from her tray. Another one of those Marcher documents she had to approve or deny. "You've earned your break, sergeant. Enjoy it."

"What happens to the woman?" I asked.

"She'll be returned to the Banded Brotherhood. That'll keep Grandmaster Liu from interfering for a good while. It looked very bad in front of the Prefect, losing three men to one of mine like that." She grinned. "Though he denied it, of course. I'm surprised you managed to save her. Shame she won't be able to talk." She looked at me with speculating eyes. "She's going to be a mute, I hear."

"An unfortunate side effect," I said.

"Unfortunate," she agreed. "You may be dismissed, sergeant." I saluted with the bare minimum of professional conduct. I'd be damned if I wasn't going to do this NCO-play with as much silent protesting as I could fit in.
>>
>>3739197

The city of Kyoto was a jumble of old architecture, some clearly dating back to Dynastic days when Sinae and Wae had free trade. Much of the conflagration from the aftermath of the siege was put down now, the locals conscripted to save their own houses. Militiamen weren't acting out too much here. The Prefect himself was here, after all. A semblance of order was maintained in the capital of Wae.

We had snuck out of Iwari-Ginzan as planned, Monday whipping us to a doublespeed march until we joined up with the main body of the Company. By then, the siege of Kyoto had finished, and the militiamen had done what they came here for - flood the city.

It was a hollow victory. Their heavenly sovereign had managed to evade capture from the chaos of the battle. Thousands of militiamen had died. But we had the capital.

It was a beautiful city, for all its derivative architecture from old Sinaean days. Most of it was in wood. No wonder they had burned so freely. Waelanders didn't go for permanence in their buildings. The regular earthquakes made that a futile endeavour. In that respect, wood was the better choice to build with. It lent the city a strangely arboreal flavour.

I had the day free, though the next was far from certain. And my pocket was, if not filled with brass, at least jingling with the new pay - five denarii and eleven sesterces, not including the whole aureus that Trevain had paid me up front for his daughter. The Black Company paid up front for the month. Quick payouts were necessary in a high mortality industry like ours.

>Mulberry. I needed to make more of those amnesic pellets. I looked for a herbal shop. This was the capital. They had to have a wide selection, wide enough for what I was looking for.

>I shopped for the ingredients for a nice, romantic dinner. And steeled myself to tell Hood the truth that evening.

>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth.

>On duty or off, I was the sergeant. There were some things I needed to talk out with Chatal and Fox for what happened that day. A dinner was the least I could do while talking with them about how I almost killed them in that mine.
>>
>>3739198
>>Mulberry. I needed to make more of those amnesic pellets. I looked for a herbal shop. This was the capital. They had to have a wide selection, wide enough for what I was looking for.
>>
>>3739198

>I shopped for the ingredients for a nice, romantic dinner. And steeled myself to tell Hood the truth that evening.

Time to die for real, we either keep druging ourselves or cone clean, I'm not sure how we can face her if we don't
>>
>>3739198

>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth.

Maybe she can advise us on what to do with this memory thing.
>>
>>3739198
>>3739213
+1
>>
>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth.
>>
>>3739198
>Mulberry. I needed to make more of those amnesic pellets. I looked for a herbal shop. This was the capital. They had to have a wide selection, wide enough for what I was looking for.
>>
>>3739211
>>3739198
I change to

>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth.

That talk about censores from our nephew got me worried actually, maybe they spoke to him?
And seeing the kids and talking to shamaness before saying the things to Hood seems wise
>>
>>3739198
>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth.

We can talk to Chatal and Fox after, while we go SHOPPING
>>
>>3739198

>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth
>>
>I needed to see Shamaness and the children again. The babies had been left behind with her and the wet nurse with the main Company, as it would have been too dangerous to bring them along. Of course they were safe. They were in the middle of the Company in full war readiness. But I wanted to see them, feel their squirming bodies in my hands, and maybe finally talk about naming the precious little lives that I'd helped bring forth.

To understand the Waelander, one must remember two things. The first is that they are a people predisposed toward war and the making of war. Their ruling hierarchs are nobles of the sword, from the lowest samurai-bannerman to the highest Shogun, whose title translates roughly to commander-in-chief, or generalissimo. Even the common soldiery were typically drafted from approved "military families" who were allowed to pass along their weapons as a kind of familial heirloom. Small and petty wars had racked the entire island ostensibly ruled by the Tenno, their so-called heavenly sovereign for most of their existence. Force of arms kept the Shogun in control.

The second thing of note is that they are islanders. An islander learns, by the limits of geography, to learn self-restraint when dealing with one's neighbour under the pain of death. Calm words must be used when the speaker would rather remonstrate loudly. Shouts and curses and outbursts create deep offense, and would rarely resolved by anything other than blood.

Thus the two-faced identity was born. The smiling mask in one hand - a bowing, scraping man who debases himself while praising the virtues of the other. The angry mask in the other - their true intent, masked by the pleasant, chivalric demeanour, waiting for the time to strike like the snake among the grasses. The samurai wrote pithy verses on revering their heavenly sovereign and defying foreign nationals with scholarly Sinaean, even as they executed anyone of a lower class for perceived affronts against their honour in the streets.

Nowhere was this bipolar approach more evident than the palatial fortress of their heavenly sovereign. The architectural severity of their royal palace, beautiful in the way a sheering ice-cliff in Khulan is incandescent, while at the same time high-walled and made to repulse infantrymen.

"It's the result of being so cooped up in one place," Shamaness theorised idly, lying on her back, her head on my thighs. "Nowhere to externalise their frustrations, so they coop it up inwardly, or strike their social lowers. If it were the Magal, they would just fight each other and be done with it. Instead they just go on and on and on, feuding with words. Words!" She wormed her way further into my legs' embrace. "I miss being able to ride in full speed. There's too many mountains here."
>>
>>3739666

We had climbed one of the mountains around Kyoto, our horses slowly navigating on the mountain paths. It frustrated Shamaness who was used to lands being flat, not scrunched up into rippled waves. Even then, she appreciated being able to go out of the palace.

We brought tents and some cold cuts to cook over an open fire. It was like camping. Not military camping, because that had rules and regulations and a whole lot of other people. No, this was the good kind. The one with too much food and occasionally burnt meat and ashes accidentally getting into our stew. Shamaness laughed at my clumsy attempt at milking her mare, and did it for me. For the Magal, the mount truly is the giver of all things.

There were no other brothers here, no children to bother us or orders to interrupt our tryst. Today, it was just us and the forest. And no bloody wolves, either. I poured the heated mare's milk to my cup, now close to boiling, careful not to disrupt Shamaness' head. "They still have servants in the palace, don't they?" I asked. "At least you weren't eating field rations."

"I was so cooped up in there," she said petulantly, hugging my leg. Then she smiled. "And then my knight in shining armour rescued me."

The wind whistled through the barren trees. I shivered and sipped the warmed milk gratefully. Shamaness had a higher cold tolerance than I, not to mention vastly more powerful, being a sorceress. If I was the knight, she was the dragon. "How are the children?"

"They're fine," she said distractedly, looking at the clouds. "Or that's what the wet nurses tell me. I haven't had time to check up on them lately, Aurelius. I've been tasked with auguries."

"What, seeing the future?" I said, surprised. "But that's highly specialised. Most Ensorcelled can't do it without..."

"It's fine," she said quickly. "I take breaks. I know my limits, unlike a certain brave hero."

"Not a hero." The things I have done were not something able to be classed as heroic deeds, unless you were Alexandrian. Shamaness was no Alexandrian.

"A brave adventurer, then." She munched on something green and terribly healthy unenthusiastically. Magal preferred meat over all things, but she was taking her auguries seriously. Lifting the veil to see the future was an arduous undertaking and not to be done for long without extensive breaks. I didn't know it required turning vegan.

"It's too soon after you gave birth," I murmured worriedly. I caressed her wavy hair with my free hand, luxuriating in how they cascaded around my fingers. "And you're not trained in it."

She shrugged. "I have books, left behind from old Felix. Tools and calendars and ceremonial bronzes. It would be nice if we had more Ensorcelled, but Dumpling, a dear though she is, is not up for it."
>>
>>3739707
"What about Truncheon?"

"Oh, Truncheon," she said mournfully. "Heart is in the right place, but no skill. No skill at all. I'm amazed he's an Ensorcelled at all."

"Is he really that bad?" I'd seen the man, a nervous wreck of a sorcerer. The man who brought him to us said that he had never been the same after being captured by Wae pirates during a routine sea trip between a Peninsular kingdom and Sinae. He had insisted in coming, probably out of some misjudged attempt at avenging his humiliation at the hands of the wouku. I hadn't heard much of him since.

"No, no more talking shop," she huffed. "We don't get a lot of us-time."

At least I now knew why Captain was keeping her away from me all this time "Did you see something about me?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's hard to see individuals, nevermind the Company. It's no wonder poor Felix failed to detect the Ambush. Do you know what it's like?" I shook my head. I wasn't a sorcerer. "Mostly guesswork drawn from strange and morphed images and... feelings. Nothing ever concrete. And only for very short duration each time." She wrinkled her nose with mock-anger. "It's like looking at the clouds and trying to figure out if we're all going to die."

"I thought as much," I sighed. As if the gods would let anything be simple.

"I do know you are worried." I flinched. "And that you came here not out of pure concern for one of your wives. This wasn't a simple conjugal visit, was it?" I met her eyes. She was smiling with some amusement. "Oh, loosen up, Aurelius," she said. "It's no secret you have your favourite among your harem."

>"I love you all in different ways," I said seriously. Dumpling was as old a friend as I had in my life as an exile, and Shamaness was someone who I would have been proud to show to my mother - diligent, industrious, and ever so hardy. And Hood was, well, Hood. I do not know how to describe it better than that.

>"You're right," I admitted, adroitly avoiding to mention which part she was right in. "I came here for a consultation. I need your advice." I hoped she would dissuade me from telling Hood what I was going to tell her.

>I switched to Old Parthian with all its equine vocabularies. "If I had known the Magal princess was lonely, I would have galloped faster across the plains to tumble with her in the hay."
>>
>>3739714
>>"You're right," I admitted, adroitly avoiding to mention which part she was right in. "I came here for a consultation. I need your advice." I hoped she would dissuade me from telling Hood what I was going to tell her.
>>
>>3739714
>>"You're right," I admitted, adroitly avoiding to mention which part she was right in. "I came here for a consultation. I need your advice." I hoped she would dissuade me from telling Hood what I was going to tell her.

she can read us like a book this one.
>>
>>3739714
I don't know if there is a better way to show her our love than this.

>"You're right," I admitted, adroitly avoiding to mention which part she was right in. "I came here for a consultation. I need your advice." I hoped she would dissuade me from telling Hood what I was going to tell her.
>>
>>3739714

>"You're right," I admitted, adroitly avoiding to mention which part she was right in. "I came here for a consultation. I need your advice." I hoped she would dissuade me from telling Hood what I was going to tell her.
>>
Does the first option still includes a sking for her advice? I like what the option says but I want to ask for her too
>>
>>3739772
That's why you came here, yes

I'm prepping for paperwork shenanigans so may not be able to update tomorrow
>>
>>3739714

>"I love you all in different ways," I said seriously. Dumpling was as old a friend as I had in my life as an exile, and Shamaness was someone who I would have been proud to show to my mother - diligent, industrious, and ever so hardy. And Hood was, well, Hood. I do not know how to describe it better than that.

>>3739827
Thanks for the heads up, good luck.
>>
>>3739827
or today*

>>3739850
Thanks, gonna need it, if things don't pan out I have to prepare to move out of where I am, which is going to put questrunning in a bit of a pickle :x
>>
>>3739714
I switched to Old Parthian with all its equine vocabularies. "If I had known the Magal princess was lonely, I would have galloped faster across the plains to tumble with her in the hay
>>
>>3739714


>"I love you all in different ways," I said seriously. Dumpling was as old a friend as I had in my life as an exile, and Shamaness was someone who I would have been proud to show to my mother - diligent, industrious, and ever so hardy. And Hood was, well, Hood. I do not know how to describe it better than that.
>>
>>3739720
>>3739724
>>3739750
>>3739752

"You must not tell her," Shamaness said, when all was said and told. "You mustn't. Not unless you want her to kill you. And when she does, I will kill her."

The Magal can be... fiercely possessive. "Shamaness, these are things I have done."

"You think you are the only one with problems? Oh, rider of my horse, desire of my heart. You are not the first I have taken as mine. You forget that we Ensorcelled live just as long. Do you think me to be an innocent maiden, going where her heart leads? No." Her voice was much more bitter than I'd ever heard from her. Gone was the gentle young mother who was the giver of my son, appearing in her stead a wary sorceress. "Regret is a tangible portion of our lives, we who live too long. Just as you always say, 'our longevity is a curse'."

"She deserves to know. I owe her that."

"Of course you do. That is why you struggle. On one side, self preservation, and on the other... a kind of all-giving love that most women could only dream of. One I've always dreamed of. But it is impossible for me. I know what I am. And I think Dumpling does too, deep in her heart. Women are creatures of intuition. And I am happy enough with what I have." Break. "It is more than I deserve."

I was lost in a maze of choices. Freedom constrained me with their endless decisions, paralysing me with promises of consequence. "What if she found out?" I asked, troubled.

She looked at me with wry amusement. "People believe what they want to believe."

That was a very cynical way of looking at the world.

"You must be rubbing off me, then. Little Khan, lies and falsehoods are the bandages we cover our ugliness with. How else can we live among humans in all their innocence?" She sighed. "Ah, but I cannot be the one to order you so. You will, in the end, do what you must do. Men! I sometimes hate myself for loving you so."

The rain-mixed snow worsened in short order. A snowstorm was brewing. Snowing clouds began to shoot thunder as if the sleet-snow wasn't enough. We retreated into the tent. At first we huddled for mutual warmth, and then found solace in the age-old rite of lovers.

There was very little romantic about that night. Two guilty people fumbled the night away, focusing on the primal needs of our bestial origins lest they remembered something they shouldn't. We gave and took, losing ourselves against each other like waves breaking against the shore even as the heavens rumbled their displeasure. And for a night, we were both freed from whatever doubts had gnawed at our hearts.

I knew I was delaying the inevitable. I had to face Hood, either with lies or the truth. One night, I thought, even as sleep blanketed all senses. Shamaness was already sleeping, hugging me tight for our shared body warmth. Just one night. This much happiness wouldn't anger the gods, even for a sinner such as I.
>>
>>3741857

The next day, our marching orders arrived.

>Interrogation from the city's monks had revealed the existence of a large monastery-fortress in the deep forest in the eastern seaboard of Honshu. 'Kill the monks, hold the fortress until the arrival of a relief force.' It seemed an easy task. How deadly could monks be?

>Their heavenly sovereign had fled in a giant gilded carriage that contained him and his wives and concubines. We were given the job of hunting them out. The Prefect wanted the figurehead king safe and sound.

>A strange man claiming to be an agent of the gods was going around the countryside, rousing the naturally xenophobic natives to sharpen bamboo spears and go on a mostly futile crusade to liberate Kyoto. I recognised his name when one of the captured men spat it out defiantly against us: Suenaga.

>The daimyo of the Ogasawara clan, one of the many Honshu clans had sent secret missives to the Prefect, asking for the return of his son captured in Kyoto in exchange for Miyoshi support. It was to the Black Company he looked to undertake this politically significant excursion.
>>
>>3741859
>>Their heavenly sovereign had fled in a giant gilded carriage that contained him and his wives and concubines. We were given the job of hunting them out. The Prefect wanted the figurehead king safe and sound.
>>
>>3741859
>>A strange man claiming to be an agent of the gods was going around the countryside, rousing the naturally xenophobic natives to sharpen bamboo spears and go on a mostly futile crusade to liberate Kyoto. I recognised his name when one of the captured men spat it out defiantly against us: Suenaga.
>>
>>3741859
Oops forgot to paste properly:
>A strange man claiming to be an agent of the gods was going around the countryside, rousing the naturally xenophobic natives to sharpen bamboo spears and go on a mostly futile crusade to liberate Kyoto. I recognised his name when one of the captured men spat it out defiantly against us: Suenaga.
>>
>>3741859
>>The daimyo of the Ogasawara clan, one of the many Honshu clans had sent secret missives to the Prefect, asking for the return of his son captured in Kyoto in exchange for Miyoshi support. It was to the Black Company he looked to undertake this politically significant excursion.
Also who's older Tiberius or Shamaness?
>>
>>3741859

>A strange man claiming to be an agent of the gods was going around the countryside, rousing the naturally xenophobic natives to sharpen bamboo spears and go on a mostly futile crusade to liberate Kyoto. I recognised his name when one of the captured men spat it out defiantly against us: Suenaga.

The shit part is, our nephew knew, if we ever go near the capital, many people will know, can we really count on no ever meeting someone who knows? I mean, we are best buddies with Belissarus for fuck sake....
Damn, Aurelius will die, one way or another.

Poor shamaness too, e should try to give her the love she wants.
>>
>>3741869
Not to mention we won't be able to look at her properly because of what we know

I mean, Hood knows we are hiding something, we might as well ask her if she wants to know about this man we killed 12 years ago, about the life of the dude we are trying to leave behind but that came back to haunt us.
If she doesn't want to know that would make everything easier.

We will have to learn to love shamaness more earnestly too, it's too cruel what we are doing, damn, shit's tough.
>>
>>3741862
>>3741865
>>3741869
>A strange man claiming to be an agent of the gods was going around the countryside, rousing the naturally xenophobic natives to sharpen bamboo spears and go on a mostly futile crusade to liberate Kyoto. I recognised his name when one of the captured men spat it out defiantly against us: Suenaga.

"Last seen going south," I read. "Well. At least we won't have the Militia swamping us down. The Prefect specificied only one platoon to be sent."

"That sounds like overkill to chase some rabble-rouser," Hood said. She was thinking, This sounds too easy. Good. Wariness was the one thing that saved NCOs like us from the schemes of the powers that be.

It did surprise me that the Prefect wasn't forcing us to pair up with another army of incompetents. More and more, it was becoming obvious that the Prefect was using this war to train his own private army. The seventeen thousand that landed was just for the beachhead. Every week, ships were leaving the easily captured ports and returning with their holds crowded with thousands more, each and every one of them promised a strip of land in the New World. The millennia of Imperial peace was working toward the Prefect's favour. Large number of noninheriting sons were signing up their lives to die in a foreign land.

"The powers that be have gifted us with a milk run," I said, shrugging. "Let's not invite further attention by remarking on them. Are the men ready?"

"Trevain took Mulberry out for a dinner, and I think Lee is... indisposed." There was a knowing pause. "Chatal is also on leave, for personal reasons."
>>
>>3742024

"I don't need to hear the gory details," I assured her. Who my squadmates were shagging were their business, as long as it didn't impact the mission. That goes for myself. "We don't have to make our preparations until tomorrow evening. A ship is picking us up." I frowned at the innocent letters on the order scrip. A ship? "Why do we need a ship? I thought we were going into the mountains for this."

Hood was uncurious. "You're the one with the orders, not me." Right. Hood couldn't read. Maybe I should teach her, I thought. On the other hand, she might get her hands on history books, and I would be finished.

Ignorance was bliss. "There's an empty supply wagon leaving for the western port," I continued. "Whatever happens, the squad has to be ready by noon. Please let the men know... corporal."

Damn. There was me being officious again. Like I had something to hide.

If she caught the hesitation, she didn't mention it. "Yes, sergeant." She left the tent briskly. Hood always did move fast, as if something was going to catch up with her. It was just my unhinged state of mind that was making me suspect that she was a little faster than usual. Everything was fine.

>Overkill though it may be for an entire platoon to be mobilised to uproot a single dissident, I was feeling paranoid. I decided to see an old friend about getting some heavy armour for my rangers, quiet-like. No one ever objected to me going around in clanking armour so far, despite me being a ranger. I winced, remembering the last time I had used Raindrop's services. This was going to cost me.

>I finally went searching for a damned medicine shop. I might be able to buy the ingredients in the port town, but did I really want to risk it? And I wasn't sure heavy armour would help. We were going to be on a ship.

>I was running ragged. Too much work and no play made Aurelius a fucking Tiberius. I needed to loosen up, build up some camaraderie with the men, and... when was the last time I'd played with Honey?
>>
>>3742026
>>I finally went searching for a damned medicine shop. I might be able to buy the ingredients in the port town, but did I really want to risk it? And I wasn't sure heavy armour would help. We were going to be on a ship.
>>
>>3742026
>>Overkill though it may be for an entire platoon to be mobilised to uproot a single dissident, I was feeling paranoid. I decided to see an old friend about getting some heavy armour for my rangers, quiet-like. No one ever objected to me going around in clanking armour so far, despite me being a ranger. I winced, remembering the last time I had used Raindrop's services. This was going to cost me.

protection for our dudes
>>
>>3742026

>I was running ragged. Too much work and no play made Aurelius a fucking Tiberius. I needed to loosen up, build up some camaraderie with the men, and... when was the last time I'd played with Honey?
>>
>>3742026
>>I finally went searching for a damned medicine shop. I might be able to buy the ingredients in the port town, but did I really want to risk it? And I wasn't sure heavy armour would help. We were going to be on a ship.

For Mulberry
>>
>>3742026

>I was running ragged. Too much work and no play made Aurelius a fucking Tiberius. I needed to loosen up, build up some camaraderie with the men, and... when was the last time I'd played with Honey?

Need sanity back
>>
>>3742026
I want to play with Honey, she can maybe calm us down, remind us we changed a lot

Mulberry still has one pallet left right? Good for some days?
>>
>>3742241
One pellet, good for a week, though none left for you then
>>
>>3742026
>Overkill though it may be for an entire platoon to be mobilised to uproot a single dissident, I was feeling paranoid. I decided to see an old friend about getting some heavy armour for my rangers, quiet-like. No one ever objected to me going around in clanking armour so far, despite me being a ranger. I winced, remembering the last time I had used Raindrop's services. This was going to cost me.
No good to let our dudes get even more butchered because of derp armor.
>>
Woo, three way tie
>>
>>3744396
Roll for it I guess.
>>
>>3744403
Guess I will, once I go back home and can type
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>
>>Overkill though it may be for an entire platoon to be mobilised to uproot a single dissident, I was feeling paranoid. I decided to see an old friend about getting some heavy armour for my rangers, quiet-like. No one ever objected to me going around in clanking armour so far, despite me being a ranger. I winced, remembering the last time I had used Raindrop's services. This was going to cost me.

Raindrops was an old squadmate of mine, back when we were all under the command of sergeant Sergeant. He was our unofficial Procurer of Things, which meant getting us our arrows and bolts and bars of soap. A useful man to have, as long as you didn't look too closely where the items came from.

"Would love to help you, old chap," Raindrops said sympathetically. "But you know how it is. Those militia chaps are getting all the good stuff first, including fresh iron from the mainland. We're hard put enough as it is, just trying to maintain the items we do have."

"The Prefect is giving the millies first dibs? But there are thousands of them! Tens of thousands!"

"You've put the hammer on the nail, you did," he nodded sagely. "I mean, I do have a few extra suits of stormtrooper armour, but with the supply of iron as it is, I can't exactly requisition them away. The stormers are first priority for those."

>"How expensive a priority are we talking here?" [Money, the Universal Language]

>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid]
>>
>>3744457
>>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid]
>>
>>3744457

>"How expensive a priority are we talking here?" [Money, the Universal Language]
>>
>>3744457

>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid]

Can we see Honey while we wait?
>>
>>3744462
You can either search around Kyoto for the required ingredients for the amnesics or play with Honey
>>
>>3744457
>>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid]
>>
>>3744457
>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid
>>
>>3744457
>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid]
Oh my, jackasses hogging all the good shit.
>>
>>3744463
....can we bring Honey on a shopping trip?
>>
>>3744959
Do you want to bring escorts for a family shopping trip in case of banzai suiciders? Jist wondering

Internet down at home (using pub wifi) will update when possible
>>
>>3744460
>>3744462
>>3744476
>>3744539
>>3744813
Internet's back
>"Millies hoarding the iron, you say? Tell me more." [Nightraid]

Raindrops stopped fiddling with a curious contraption that was halfway between a club and a piece of art. Random metal bits were fused to the wood, which had been bored at the end to make a long smooth hole. He liked tinkering with various knick-knacks that came his way. The quartermaster's tent was filled with things like that. Various odds and ends like pieces of armour that lost their way from the complete set, rusted caltrops with numbers inscribed on their sides for some reason, and most disturbing due to its innocent look, a corn-cob doll.

"Their quartermaster," he began thoughtfully, and with a little more than a tiny bit of resentment. "...Well, he calls himself Overcommissar of the People's Treasury."

"The usual title inflations," I said dismissively. "I can't walk around the millies' warcamp without tripping on a tristar general every few meters."

"This one's different. He's a Sima himself, not an outside contractor like the volunteers." The V-word sneered between yellow teeth. "The Prefect's content using them to bash this island to submission, but this man is family. He's even got auditors. Can you believe it? Those skinflints, they think we're shorting them."

"You are shorting them," I reminded him.

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "A man's gotta eat. But he noticed, is the thing. I pulled every trick in the book."

Our clients often felt that our monthly supply lists were unnecessarily long and took items off without consultation. A bit of pencil pushing was what was keeping the Company supplied through thick and thin, and Captain knew it. Is it theft before you are stolen from? Another question only the living can ask. We ignored their little thefts, as long as they kept the supplies flowing.

The quartermastery was staffed with the best of us when it came to juggling requisition forms and plain bribery. Most of the brothers signed up to the Company after committing common theft. They punished thieves seriously in Sinae. A hand, for a sack of rice. Two limbs, hand and foot, for the second time. Your sexual organs for frauding the tax collector. The quartermasters were elites in that regard. Raindrops should have lost his sexual organs and all his limbs, many times over.

If he'd spotted what they were doing, this commissar was good. I made a terse observation. Raindrops agreed. "We can't put the hood over this one's eyes, sarge." He was using Sergeant's old title to me. I wondered if he did the same to Trevain. "Not for long, anyway."

"When did this new commissar come on the job?"

"Day three of the invasion, I should think."
>>
>>3746917
The commissar was very good. And Raindrops was only a newbie, as trouble-prone as any trooper. "Around the time you were moved to Supplies," I observed. Raindrops began to huff and puff. A sad attempt at whistling. He was no good at it. Honey had tried to teach him for a futile week when we were all one squadmates. I grabbed his ear and bent him low. "What have you done?" I said, biting off each word carefully.

"Ow! Nothing! Nothing! Just a bit of friendly iron peddling! Supply and demand, you gotta understand it, man!"

"You sold iron to the Waelanders?" I asked incredulously.

"Well if you put it like that- awawawawa! Don't stand up so suddenly, you oversized buffoon! You still have my ear! Yes! Yes, I've been selling iron to the Waelanders!"

I released his ear, crossed my arms. "Your problem is that you bite off more than you can chew."

"And your problem is that you lost your sense of humour up your anal sphincters, sometime back when you became sarge," Raindrops said with a hurt look. He cupped both his ears. He didn't want me to pull it again. "Look, it was a tiny amount, relatively speaking."

Relative to what, I wanted to ask. I said instead, "In exchange for what?"

"This," he said, raising the handle-slash-club that he had been tinkering with, flashing a triumphant smile.

I said with a dead voice, "You sold the iron starved enemy boatloads of iron."

"Not boatloads, plural," he said modestly. "I wasn't that good."

"For a stick."

"No!" He was professionally insulted. "I've got a box of these."

I raised my hands to clip his ears. He dashed back. "Wait!" he said. "This is actually really good stuff. It's magic!"

"Bullshit it's magic." I would know if it were.

"It is! Just look at this." Raindrops fiddled with it, revealing a heretofore unrevealed mechanism within the smoothly polished wooden stick. He inserted a round ball, switched grips - it looked remarkably like a crossbow without most of the bow part, I realised - pointed the business end toward a testing dummy, and clicked the trigger.
>>
>>3746918

There was a loud bang. And the world ended.

"Hades," I said when I could hear myself again. The smoke took longer. "What was that?"

"This, my brother, is a gonne." He raised it to a nonexistent spotlight as if to ask for the blessing of the gods. "I am become death," he chanted, "destroyer of worlds!"

"Not a lot of penetrative power," I observed from the dummy he'd fired at. A small round pellet was lodged against the armoured torso. It didn't go very far.

"Mock it all you want," Raindrops the Acolyte of the Gonne God said loftily. "It's a subtle weapon, my gonne is."

"That thing screams louder than a well-paid whore. The only thing less subtle than that is your meddling with the Supplies' registry."

"Hah hah. Very funny." He scowled. "But you can hide it, like so, see?" He demonstrated. It was difficult to see the bulge it made from all the other curiosities Raindrops carried around. "Nothing like a crossbow. Reloading is a bitch and a half, and you don't want this near any water or fire."

"Why water?"

"Chemical, sarge. You won't understand it."

"I am a scrivener."

"You deal with the healing arts, let me keep my deadly ones." Characteristic of Raindrops. He liked to keep his secrets. "Some kind of a chemical propellant?" I guessed.

"The Mysteries of the Gonnesian Brotherhood is not for sale. Although..." he leaned in, temporarily forgetting my ear-pinching capabilities, "a pistol-gonne is, for the small, small price of silence."

"What about the one you're holding now?" I said, pointing at the stick. He shook his head.

"Not my baby, no. I wouldn't part with my precious. Would I?" That last sentence, I was sure, was not addressed to me.

>"I think you would. For the price of my silence to Captain and my silence to the Prefect. Do you think he will be happy about you selling the one thing those Waelanders want more than their silver?"


>I raised my fingers to give him a good ear-pulling. "One for every ranger in your squad!" he squeaked.
"And lifetime guaranteed supply of whatever mystical ammunition they use?" I asked. Better to hit the nail on the head while the iron was hot. I was beginning to mix metaphors. Dealing with Raindrops had that kind of effect on a person.
"Ten year free ammunition, to be negotiated by end of contract."
We shook on it. I was tempted to pull his ear, restrained myself.
>>
>>3746917
>Is it theft before you are stolen from?
should be
>Is it theft to steal before you are stolen from?
>>
>>3746919
>>I raised my fingers to give him a good ear-pulling. "One for every ranger in your squad!" he squeaked.
>"And lifetime guaranteed supply of whatever mystical ammunition they use?" I asked. Better to hit the nail on the head while the iron was hot. I was beginning to mix metaphors. Dealing with Raindrops had that kind of effect on a person.
>"Ten year free ammunition, to be negotiated by end of contract."
>We shook on it. I was tempted to pull his ear, restrained myself.
>>
>>3746919

>I raised my fingers to give him a good ear-pulling. "One for every ranger in your squad!" he squeaked.

Nice, we got something useful out of this, stealing from that Sima guy seems like bad news
>>
>>3746919

>I raised my fingers to give him a good ear-pulling. "One for every ranger in your squad!" he squeaked.
"And lifetime guaranteed supply of whatever mystical ammunition they use?" I asked. Better to hit the nail on the head while the iron was hot. I was beginning to mix metaphors. Dealing with Raindrops had that kind of effect on a person.
"Ten year free ammunition, to be negotiated by end of contract."
We shook on it. I was tempted to pull his ear, restrained myself.
>>
>>3746859
I would say yes, definitely
>>
>>3746979
>>3746981
>>3746983
>Generic pistol-gonnes issued to Ranger Squad!
>Unique Raindrop's revolver-gonne "Pain Rain" missed!
>I raised my fingers to give him a good ear-pulling. "One for every ranger in your squad!" he squeaked.

"And lifetime guaranteed supply of whatever mystical ammunition they use?" I asked. Better to hit the nail on the head while the iron was hot. I was beginning to mix metaphors. Dealing with Raindrops had that kind of effect on a person.

"Ten year free ammunition, to be negotiated by end of contract."

We shook on it. I was tempted to pull his ear, restrained myself.
I examined the boomstick. Now that I saw it in action, it looked a lot like a crossbow without all the bulky bits that made them hard to hide in your breast pocket. It was surprisingly heavy, but simple to carry. Sacrificed a lot in penetrative powers and, I assumed, distance, but that wasn't a problem. It was going to be a side arm at best, something to get the jump on the enemy, point-blank, not something I'd want to keep using continuously. I couldn't even see if the weapon was loaded, unlike a crossbow. I made a mental note never to point the thing at myself.

Devilishly clever things. And oddly out of character from the Waelanders' obsession over martial honour. "Where did you say you got this from?"

"I didn't. Some smugglers off an island with a long and stupid-sounding name. Tannygashum or something."

"Tanegashima?" I suggested.

Raindrops looked surprised. "How'd you know?"

"Read the name somewhere." Right in my order script. "What are you going to do with the rest?"

"Was gonna ration it out to officers. Here, only take as many as you need, and no filching!" Raindrops grumbled as he brought out his haul on a small hand-carved crate, its contents carefully cushioned against jostling with cotton. Sixteen identical weapons lay here as innocent as bladeless axes. He also handed over a small paper box that had a lot of rolling things inside. "Only two shots each. Don't have enough iron for repairing armour that we have, nevermind experimenting on ammunition." He looked up hopefully. "Say, since I done you a favour, you mind doing me one?"

"Ah. So there's the catch."

"Isn't so much a catch, as it is reality," the ex-smuggler said candidly. "We really are fuck out of metal. Thank the Mother we aren't deployed right now, because Captain is gonna pretty pissed. It's gonna be good for you, too. I dunno when the next iron shipment is going to come. Those fucking millies are guzzling them."

>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?"

>"Tough. I'm sure you supply boys will figure something out. Tap into a local mine, or something."
>>
>>3747022
>"Tough. I'm sure you supply boys will figure something out. Tap into a local mine, or something."
>>
>>3747022


>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?"
>>
>>3747022

>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?
>>
>>3747022

>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?

>>3746859
Probably
>>
>>3747022
>>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?"
>>
>>3747022
>"Tough. I'm sure you supply boys will figure something out. Tap into a local mine, or something."
>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?"

But seriously though, if we really are that fookin out of iron, then we're gonna need to drain every last place we can find.
>>
>>3747022
>>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?"
>>
File: Honey.jpg (211 KB, 864x1200)
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Because your QM is terrible at finding artwork, here's a Honey image repost
>>3747032
>>3747043
>>3747045
>>3747053
>"Fine. I'll get... what do I need to do, exactly?"

The grimy procurer's idea was to steal a bunch of papers and stamps. The commissar himself was not going to be defrauded easily. His underlings were less stiff. "They see a file demanding iron shipments moved here with the prick's stamp, they'll cough up the iron."

"That's it? Paper and stamp? I thought you were going to make me lug the iron myself."

"Just the papers and stamp," he replied. "Should be easy for you, sarge. Grab some quiet boys and rifle through their offices."

Should be easy. I rubbed the "pistol" discreetly tucked to my side for good luck, looking for all the world like a piece of ornamentation with its burnished bronze metal parts flickering in the candlelight. "You'll get your papers," I said.

It should have been easy.

---

I went for a bit of shopping with Honey instead of sleeping the afternoon off in preparation for the raid. All my soldiering experiences (sans daddy issues) cried out against it. My fatherly non-experience said, "Fuck soldiering. I want a time with my daughter."

For daughter she was. The golden child clung to my arms with wide-eyed curiosity, though the streets were subdued. Quiet is the name of the game when a foreign army is occupying your city. People avoided us in the streets, preferring to sidestep into whatever shop happened to be open. Honey didn't care or notice. "Look at the pretty dresses!" she said happily, pointing to a high-end tailor's. "What kind of flower are those?"

Oh, Emperor. She was becoming interested in dresses. I had a brief flash of the purgatorial wait that all men who had to wait outside feminine shops suffered.

>"You have dresses at home," I told her. "Look, shortswords!" I tried to distract her with something familiar in her life. You can never have enough shortswords.

>I noticed that her own dress was somewhat frayed. Off-coloured white from all the repeated washing. I wouldn't have been bothered by it in my childhood. But girls were different, weren't they?
"Chrysanthemum, I think," I answered. They were everywhere. It was probably the national flower or something. "...do you want to take a closer look?"
Goodbye, my schedule. I only hoped I might have enough time to scour the town for those ingredients.
>>
>>3747066
>>I noticed that her own dress was somewhat frayed. Off-coloured white from all the repeated washing. I wouldn't have been bothered by it in my childhood. But girls were different, weren't they?
>"Chrysanthemum, I think," I answered. They were everywhere. It was probably the national flower or something. "...do you want to take a closer look?"
>Goodbye, my schedule. I only hoped I might have enough time to scour the town for those ingredients.
>>
>>3747066
>>I noticed that her own dress was somewhat frayed. Off-coloured white from all the repeated washing. I wouldn't have been bothered by it in my childhood. But girls were different, weren't they?
>"Chrysanthemum, I think," I answered. They were everywhere. It was probably the national flower or something. "...do you want to take a closer look?"
>Goodbye, my schedule. I only hoped I might have enough time to scour the town for those ingredients.
>>
>>3747066

>>I noticed that her own dress was somewhat frayed. Off-coloured white from all the repeated washing. I wouldn't have been bothered by it in my childhood. But girls were different, weren't they?
>"Chrysanthemum, I think," I answered. They were everywhere. It was probably the national flower or something. "...do you want to take a closer look?"
>Goodbye, my schedule. I only hoped I might have enough time to scour the town for those ingredients.

Lets find a new dress and force the QM to find a new pic kek.
Besides, we can give her one of our spare shortswords, the way we talk about them we may have more lying around, or one of Hood's battle daggers
>>
>>3747071
You wouldn't force your QM to search for "blond girl in kimono art google images", would you anon? Goddamn anime pics, why are they half of character arts in the internet? DESPAIR! I AM IN DESPAIR!
>>
>>3747066
>>I noticed that her own dress was somewhat frayed. Off-coloured white from all the repeated washing. I wouldn't have been bothered by it in my childhood. But girls were different, weren't they?
>>3747074
Don't forget to add "young" or "prepubescent"
>>
File: 77893923.jpg (38 KB, 564x400)
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>>3747078
Honey is not for lewd.
>>
File: download (17).jpg (10 KB, 267x189)
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>>3747074
I found one with the right eyes, and 2 of our wives are anime too already
pic for ants tho
>>
File: QM's defeat.png (630 KB, 505x993)
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>>3747068
>>3747069
>>3747071
>>3747078
>I noticed that her own dress was somewhat frayed. Off-coloured white from all the repeated washing. I wouldn't have been bothered by it in my childhood. But girls were different, weren't they?

"Chrysanthemum, I think," I answered. They were everywhere. It was probably the national flower or something. "...do you want to take a closer look?"

Goodbye, my schedule. I only hoped I might have enough time to scour the town for those ingredients. I surrendered myself to her insistent pull. Such small hands she has. And so rough. They weren't soft or pink-pale like that of my first daughter. Honey had spent most of her life as orphan and outcast. It showed in the premature calluses and countless scratches that crisscrossed her palm where she had cut herself in the war-ruins, scavenging for the next bite.

Unaware of the gloomy thoughts that paraded in my head, she oohed and ahhed over the local dress. These things were beyond my ken, but more than that, I hated them. Not because they were Waelandish but out of a stubborn sort of principle. Fancy clothing is for people who can pay others to maintain them. Even putting them on is a chore. There was a very good reason the toga was almost never seen outside formal occasions, even in the Capital.

My daughter delighted over the colours, the sensations of the clothes. The clerk came in with a bright fake smile. Coin was coin, and the new invaders with the black emblem had silver and brass aplenty. Sometimes even gold. "Does something interest your lovely bedwarmer?" the clerk said, her Sinaean halting and unpracticed.

I looked at her with hard eyes. "She's my daughter."

"A thousand apologies, lord," she apologised profusely. "She must take after her mother. What a lovely child!" Some of the Millies must have been around. War snaps the belt of decency in men. Some were taking to grabbing children. Men are wolves.

I subconsiously stepped closer to Honey, who was rubbing her cheek against a light blue kimono. "Do you like that one?" I asked, ignoring the flustered clerk.

"Yes!" she said. "But... silk is expensive. I'm good with what I have, now."

>I've lived a hundred lifetimes. Hers was the most obvious lie I'd ever heard. The dress she had her eyes on looked more fashionable than practical. Not something you can run away with while wearing.
I sighed, turned to the clerk. "How much for the dress?"

>"With your hair and eye colours, I think a red would do better," I suggested without thought.
Red is the colour imperial, the bloodsoaked banner of the Tenth.
>>
>>3747088
>>I've lived a hundred lifetimes. Hers was the most obvious lie I'd ever heard. The dress she had her eyes on looked more fashionable than practical. Not something you can run away with while wearing.

honey get's what honey wants

also

>"Does something interest your lovely bedwarmer?"
guys around here already assume you are a pedo holy shit kek
>>
>>3747088

>I've lived a hundred lifetimes. Hers was the most obvious lie I'd ever heard. The dress she had her eyes on looked more fashionable than practical. Not something you can run away with while wearing.

I don't want imperial nothing, bad memories that lane
>>
>>3747090
Marines around the US base in Okinawa are pretty infamous for raping schoolchildren, iirc
>>
>>3747088
>>I've lived a hundred lifetimes. Hers was the most obvious lie I'd ever heard. The dress she had her eyes on looked more fashionable than practical. Not something you can run away with while wearing.
>I sighed, turned to the clerk. "How much for the dress?"
>>
>>3747093
all aboard the express train to depressing town

damn, people can suck
>>
>>3747095
Tickets to Happy Carefree Quest was left back in the first thread friend. It's all Fatherhood now.

The things I have prepared... oh, the fun times we will have, you and I.
>>
>>3747088
>I've lived a hundred lifetimes. Hers was the most obvious lie I'd ever heard. The dress she had her eyes on looked more fashionable than practical. Not something you can run away with while wearing.
>>
>>3747097
well I'm in for the whole trip

every time you say something like that I raise another hood death flag, I'm getting worried!
>>
>>3747101
WidowHood
>>
>>3747090
>>3747091
>>3747094
>>3747099
>I've lived a hundred lifetimes. Hers was the most obvious lie I'd ever heard. The dress she had her eyes on looked more fashionable than practical. Not something you can run away with while wearing.

I sighed, turned to the clerk. "How much for the dress?"

----
>Ten denarii deducted
>Current finance: One aureus, four denarii, eleven sesterces
>Honey gained "Fancy Dress" - unable use Run Away

Officership had its privileges. One of them was double the pay compared to the troopers'. I was still bleeding money from paying for the babies and their wet nurses, but it wasn't as if Hood and Dumpling and Shamaness didn't pitch in.

Even so, the price for this dress was daylight robbery. Gold-threaded it may be, but it would perform terribly when the need to run occasioned. And people in the Company always had reason to be cautious.

"How is it? If it's too uncomfortable, we can go back and return it." Casually showing off weapons make any shop recant its no-returning policy.

"I like it!" Honey said, though her face was scrunched up with focus, trying to walk properly. The width of the skirt restricted movement. Waelandish custom dictated their women hop more than walk. It made them disastrously easy pickings for the Millies. "It's very... unique," she added.

"That's one word for it." I looked around cautiously. Being outside my armour made me feel extra vulnerable. At least I had an escort.

>"Sergeant," Fox nodded as we came out of the shop. Unlike me, he didn't feel the compunction to go civilian.
"At ease, Fox. We're shopping."
"Yes, sir."
Stiff as a board, that man. Totally had nothing to do with me going batshit crazy and almost getting him killed, I'm sure.

>"Ah, bayatur," Chatal smiled from seeing the concentrating Honey. "I see you bought yourself the blue sky and golden sun of Baatur."
Whatever his feelings toward my past self, he was keeping it well hidden.
"Not so bad looking yourself," I said. I sniffed. "Is that Lee's perfume? You silver-tongued devil, you."

>"Are we done, now?" Mulberry yawned. Takes a girl to guard a girl, or so homeopathy would dictate. In truth, I just wanted them both to experience a slice of life outside that of swords and arrows. Just for one afternoon.
"No," I said, grinning mischievously. "Your turn to get prettied up!"
She ran away. I chased.
>>
>>3747104
>>"Are we done, now?" Mulberry yawned. Takes a girl to guard a girl, or so homeopathy would dictate. In truth, I just wanted them both to experience a slice of life outside that of swords and arrows. Just for one afternoon.
>"No," I said, grinning mischievously. "Your turn to get prettied up!"
>She ran away. I chased.
>>
>>3747104

>"Sergeant," Fox nodded as we came out of the shop. Unlike me, he didn't feel the compunction to go civilian.
"At ease, Fox. We're shopping."
"Yes, sir."
Stiff as a board, that man. Totally had nothing to do with me going batshit crazy and almost getting him killed, I'm sure.

Someone able to carry Honey in a pinch
>>
>>3747104
>"Sergeant," Fox nodded as we came out of the shop. Unlike me, he didn't feel the compunction to go civilian.
He works while we play, a good tradeoff.
>>
>>3747107
well, I guess I can change to Fox but make sure to grab some street food or something for Mullberry on the way
>>
>>3747104
>>"Sergeant," Fox nodded as we came out of the shop. Unlike me, he didn't feel the compunction to go civilian.
>"At ease, Fox. We're shopping."
>"Yes, sir."
>Stiff as a board, that man. Totally had nothing to do with me going batshit crazy and almost getting him killed, I'm sure.
>>
>>3747104
>>"Ah, bayatur," Chatal smiled from seeing the concentrating Honey. "I see you bought yourself the blue sky and golden sun of Baatur."
>>
>"Sergeant," Fox nodded as we came out of the shop. Unlike me, he didn't feel the compunction to go civilian.

"At ease, Fox. We're shopping."

"Yes, sir." Stiff as a board, that man. Totally had nothing to do with me going batshit crazy and almost getting him killed, I'm sure. "I don't like the way the locals are looking at us, sir."

"Better get used to it. We're the invaders here."

"The legion wouldn't have allowed flagrant hostility from the prople they protect," he said. "It will get dark soon. I suggest we finish shopping before the curfew, sir."

We were slowed down by Honey, who was trying to acclimatise to the unfamiliar dress. I picked her up and lumped her behind my back. She felt light compared to the Parthian armour I used.

"Your back is gonna give," Honey scolded. "I'm a growing girl, you know."

"Not so growing that I can't carry you." Memories of my first daughter as a bundle of joy. She was little, once. Now she was a legionary legate, guarding the front against the northmost Peninsular Kingdom in Liaodong. Frontier legions had it harder compared to mere garrisons, even if no True Imperial remained in the Empire. They'd all followed Ariamnes the Parthian's foolish notions of a reborn Emperor, far to the west, wreaking havoc where they went. Until news of them stopped altogether.

Many a night did I spend sleeplessly, wondering if I should have followed.

"How dare you!" She giggled as I secured her position on my back, squirming playfully like a kitten behind my back. "Shamaness says I'm basically a woman already. I hit my first squirrel with my bow and arrow while Aurelius was gone."

Aurelius. Not A-relly. They really do grow too fast. "As far as A-relly is concerned, hitting squirrels doesn't make you an adult," I said in a teasing tone.

"Oh?" An inquisitive finger poked my right cheek. "What makes a woman then?"

When can I become a woman, papa? I want to help you kill barbarians!

>I suppressed a sigh. "You'll know it when you know it."

>"Becoming grown-up is not a very fun thing, little one. I would keep you as you are, if I could."

>"When you no longer need Dumpling to hide your wet sheets," I said solemnly.
>>
>>3747129
>>"Becoming grown-up is not a very fun thing, little one. I would keep you as you are, if I could."
>>
>>3747129

>I suppressed a sigh. "You'll know it when you know it."


I just realized that to forget the shit we did we erased the memory of our first daughter too.
That's gotta count on the repent scale, we should start by that when we get murderd by wife later.
>>
>>3747129
>"Becoming grown-up is not a very fun thing, little one. I would keep you as you are, if I could."
>"Even if it meant more wet sheets,"
>>
>>3747129

>"Becoming grown-up is not a very fun thing, little one. I would keep you as you are, if I could."
>>
>>3747129
>>"Becoming grown-up is not a very fun thing, little one. I would keep you as you are, if I could."
>>
>>3747129

>"When you no longer need Dumpling to hide your wet sheets," I said solemnly.
>>
>>3747131
>>3747171
>>3747183
>>"Becoming grown-up is not a very fun thing, little one. I would keep you as you are, if I could."

The wish of all fathers. But she was growing, there was no denying it. Already, she was losing her childish vocabulary when other children would still be poking anthills and wearing flower-wreaths. Weep, you fates! You have deprived another of her childhood.

Innocence is a privilege, rarely a right.

"I want to grow up soon," Honey said behind and above me. Her chin rested on my hair, making me feel the vibrations of her words.

"What do you want to be?"

I want to be a legate, just like you!

"I want to be a farmer." That surprised me. "I want to smell the soil when they are overturned, and I want to pour manure so that the stinky things can become pretty again. And I want to grow turnips, bigger and better and juicier than the ones we had back in Rainless." Rainless was a small border town we'd tithed supplies from during our stay in the north against the Magal.

"Not flowers?" I asked.

"You can't eat flowers," she said. Again, that child-serious voice. What girl-child thought to grow turnips instead of beautiful things? My heart ached for the war orphan. I wondered if her parents survived, somewhere, still looking for her.

"I want to grow flowers, too," she admitted after a while. "But turnips first. You gotta live before you can grow pretty things."

"A farmer. Hmm. You know, that was my dream, too. There isn't a more honest work like working the land and growing produce."

"We can have a family farm!" she crowed brightly. "I'll do turnips, and Aurelius can take care of the horses, in our barn."

"Horses?"

"We've gotta have horses. Horses are graceful and magnificent creatures. Sham'ness says so."

I chuckled, hefted her to better distribute her weight on my back. "That they are," I said. "That they are."

And I'll introduce the Imperial Peace throught the lands, papa! You just wait and see! We'll all be happy and there won't be any more wars.

I shivered. It was different this time. I was different. I wasn't going to fuck this up.
>>
>>3747239

Tyche, Goddess of Fate, to whom none pray in fear of what would happen. If I have ever done you any favour, if the struggle of my life has brought you even an iota of sadistic joy, hear this prayer. My one, single wish. A small thing, easily within your grasp. No trouble at all to the great goddess who plays at the loom that determines the course of lives.

[The following is a QM-granted !!BOON!! as apology for shitty scheduling and general downfall of quality. QM reserves the right to twist the outcome in certain ways.]

>Grant me the strength to protect those I love.
And yet is it not said that the Goddess delights in empowering the hero with godlike strength, only to reveal in the final Act that the very strength has destroyed what he cared for?

>Let Hood accept me even with all my faults.
A selfish wish, perhaps. Believers of free will would even consider it a violation of sorts. But freedom is its own curse.

>Keep my children safe.
A simple prayer with little detail to quibble over. Surely even you cannot weave cruel tragedies out of this wish.

>Let my only son live without hatred of his father.
I do not wish to see a repeat of the Imperial dynasts. I am an ignoble man, prone to mistakes and bouts of foolishness. No doubt that if my son were to grow, he would come to despise me.

>Then I stopped myself. Stillborn, my prayers faded away before they even took form.
Nothing good comes from the gods.
>>
>>3747245
I almost voted to keep our children safe, and then I realized the safest place for them is the gilden cages on the capital and I almost wanted to hit myself.

The more Inthink the more I reject the gods on this one.
They tempt me very much to ask for Hood's forgiveness but we could not even forgive ourselves, that's why we chose to forget, what would the gods do? Nothing good or healthy for her I bet.
>>
>>3747253
Can we go with

>keep my children safe with me and my family?
>>
>>3747245
>Then I stopped myself. Stillborn, my prayers faded away before they even took form.
Nothing good comes from the gods.
>>
>>3747283
Sure! In precisely that wording and no other caveats. I can work with that.
>>
>>3747296
You managed to fill me with dread to the point of rejecting a qm freeby, kudos


>Then I stopped myself. Stillborn, my prayers faded away before they even took form.
Nothing good comes from the gods.

Let's go like this
>>
>>3747245
>that hood option

Whyyyyyyy? Whyyyyyyyyyy? Fuuuuuck!


>Then I stopped myself. Stillborn, my prayers faded away before they even took form.
Nothing good comes from the gods.
>>
>>3747245
>Stop being a complete dickwad oh goddess
Or should we ask her to be an even dickwad?
>>
>>3747325
Give us a reroll oh goddess!
>>
>>3747332
Please fuck Sister oh goddess!
>>
>>3747239
>I want to be a legate, just like you!
It's a terrible day for rain.
>>
>>3747245
>Then I stopped myself. Stillborn, my prayers faded away before they even took form.
>>
>>3747293
>>3747304
>>3747317
>>3747343
>Then I stopped myself. Stillborn, my prayers faded away before they even took form.

Nothing good comes from the gods. A quote from the Emperor, if you would believe it. The man was a piece of work, but even he had things he feared.

I watched Honey to sleep that night. The rare ingredients for the amnesics were left behind in my private tent. I could synthesise them later. Tonight, I was going to be the one to tell her bedtime stories.

"What story shall I tell?" It'd been so long since I last did it.

"You be the one," Honey said sleepily. She was fast outgrowing her hammock. Soon I would have to use stronger fabrics for it.

"Very well." I perused the mind's catalogue of stories. There were so many of them.

>The Little Legionary That Could
"A long time ago, there was a common legionary soldier named Tiberius . . ."

>The Magal Princess
"In a land so far away west that not even Varangians have seen it, there was a glorious empire of porphyry and silver . . ."

>When The Island Was Halved
"There was a family called the Empire. One day, the favoured child called Alexandria lost her way."

>Where the Flowers Are
"The southern jungles are renowned for their beautiful and deadly flowers."

>Death by Crucifixion, and Other Horrible Tales
"'Ow!' cried the Rebel."

>When On High
"Do you know how the world was made?"
>>
>>3747378

>The Magal Princess

She likes horses

And we better not fill her head with imperial propaganda
>>
>>3747378
>>Where the Flowers Are
>>
>>3747378
Addendum:
>Where the Flowers Are
"The southern jungles are renowned for their beautiful and deadly flowers. It is so deadly, in fact, that out of the one thousand and one adventuring parties that entered it for the rumoured elixir of immortality, only one came out alive."
>>
>>3747378
They're all shit that ends on a low note aren't they?
>Where the Flowers Are
>>
>>3747391
Well as one anon noted, Honey does like her horses. Some are more suitable to the listener, others are rated PEGI18. I leave it to the voters to judge which is which.
>>
>>3747397
So that's a yes.
>>
>>3747378

>Where the Flowers Are
>>
>>3747400
>>
>>3747378
Where the Flowers Are
>>
>>3747378
Wait a second

Is Where the Flowers are going to basically be a "and that was a really bad time for Shmaurelius"
>>
>>3749170
And the horse one will turn into porno
>>
>>3747389
>>3747391
>>3747406
>>3747491
>Where the Flowers Are
"The southern jungles are renowned for their beautiful and deadly flowers. It is so deadly, in fact, that out of the one thousand and one adventuring parties that entered it for the rumoured elixir of immortality, only one came out alive."

Hack away the vineleaf and you are greeted with another, each sturdier than the former. A legion of creepy crawlies flitter on the ground and mid-air. An explorer disturbs a nest in the shape of a common fruit. Bugs with wings far longer than necessary escape the nest a cloud of black and white and red. They enter his nose, his lungs, and his eyelids. He and the nearest pack animal expires. Loudly.

The group moves on. Sound like that attracts things you do not want to see. They don't even bother grabbing a memento, unloading the animal for necessities. What use are supplies when dithering will grant you death?

There are ghosts in the jungle. Spirits of those who tried this very thing before, supposedly. Shadows stalk the party, night and day. There is no dearth of crooks and corners shadows can use, this deep in the curtain-foliaged jungle. They snatch the unwary ones. Mercenaries going out for a leak. The group moves on. Best not to linger around the shadows' feeding ground.

Eventually, the group sees it. The fabled flower, its nectar the granter of immortality. How is it so famous? Almost no one ever comes back alive. Nobody thinks of that. Rationality has fled after a journey so arduous. Two men with the energy to do so rush over the flower to guzzle greedy that primeval ambrosia. They fall to the ground, writhing, screaming, growing two arms and five legs and fifteen heads.

Too much life is the cause of death. The first one is mercy-killed for dissection by the group's doctor, a hard-eyed man named Tiberius. His strange sword makes short work of the overflowing fleshbundles where the magical weapons and sorcerous spells of the other adventurers do no harm against immortal flesh. Ex-legionary, the others suspect from his name and gear and demeanour. Only a legionary could be such a hard-ass. "Cancer," he announces. Tumorous outgrowths from cells who didn't know when to die.

The second flees into the jungle, turned bestial by pain, before its existence can be ended.

Through trial and error, the greatly diminished group - now numbering a mere three - finds the correct dosage, an amount that wouldn't cause that terrifying kind of immortality. They drink out of necessity, not greed. Coming in was difficult. Getting out would take a miracle.

The elixir is that miracle. The dosage gives longevity, not true immortality. But the group has seen the face of losing death. It is cancerous and betumoured, it moans for release.

Somewhere among the mesozoic trees and iridescent flower-traps, a flesh-thing with teeth and claws and many limbs weeps from seventeen different eyes.
>>
>>3749563

"Did that really happen?" Honey asked, wide-eyed.

"Who knows?" I said. "Mercenaries are famous liars. It is very much possible that those men were telling tall tales just like any other adventurers. What is certain is that they did come back out alive. And that alone is something to brag about."

I gently pushed her hammock to help her ease into sleep. She was too stimulated by the story. I should have picked a more boring one. "I wouldn't have bothered with that," she said, five minutes after I thought she'd finally fallen asleep. "I wouldn't go for anything like immortality. It just seems awful, doesn't it? All that life, until the very end of days."

I shrugged. "Life is wonderful."

"But doesn't it hurt?"

"Does your leg hurt when you're growing? It feels like you're being pulled and stretched, right?"

"Yeah, but this and that is different."

"They are," I agreed. "But it's also metaphorically analogous. Pain is the body's way of telling you something is wrong. They run up your nerves all the way to the brain, necessary messengers in the running of your body. And what do you not do with messengers?"

"Shoot them."

"Very good. They're just doing its job. And we must do ours."

"And what do we do with that pain, Aurelius?" Such deep, brown eyes. Almost like fossilized honey, glinting faintly in candlelight.

I held her fingers. I was apparently near dead when they'd recovered Honey and I from the burning ruins of Luoyang the day I supposedly rescued her. I didn't remember any of it. But my memories were a jumble, anyway. It didn't sound like something I would do. Did she remember? If so, she never spoke of it.

"Running away from pain is an animal response," I said. I thought back to the flesh-thing, that chaotic, gibbering mess of a spawn. It had fled for release, running away from the one thing that could have ended its life. "The human thing to do is digest it. Understand the source of the pain. And then think about the next course of action."

Hark the hypocrite. Preaching a moral that he himself barely follows.

I sounded like a well-balanced father all of a sudden, and that was the point of tonight. Honey needed a stable father figure. If I couldn't be one, I was going to use my famous lying skills to use.

It was a good moral as any, and unlike most morals, occasionally applicable to life. Honey seemed content with it.

The golden-haired girl finally slept. And in her dreams, she dreamed of immortal sheep.

[End]
>>
Bah, Japan is not my specialty. And it showed in this story, I think. Not that the Mongols are any better known by me, but at least there were some details not often explored in other quests.

My antipathy toward Waeboo (heh) things and desire to distance myself away from them and draw more from the not so squeaky clean reality of mediaeval Japan resulted in a pretty unprepossessing encounter with some samurai. Unfairly so, I think. Not all bushi are paedophiles! The noble pederasty bit is pretty well established, however. Not too dissimilar to ancient Greece, I should think. And they did have a severe shortage of women every now and then. And of course Japan's xenophobia is world-famous.

Didn't really get to explore the ritual in full because it got cut without the character even witnessing it - I thought that was a bit of a shame. So much for Water Wakes. Would there be any interest in another thread after this rather meandering thing? Questions and comments are also welcome as long as this thread stays alive. It's page 10, so it'll die soon.
>>
>>3749578
YES!
continue please, there is interest

as always, I enjoyed the story and the tense situations, now we have tiberius back and I dread how that will affect us and those around us.
the immortality(or longevity) elixir finally shows more of it's form, maybe we will get it someday...again
if you continue when will it be?
>>
>>3749578
I thought it was well fleshed out, and I liked this portion too

Has the ritual been completed would the company sink? Or the fact that we moved them to the flagship instead of the flatships could save some of them?

I wish to continue if you are up for it, let's see what you have planned
>>
>>3749578
>continue?
Yes
>>
>>3749578
Thanks for running
I'd play a new thread.
>>
>>3749578
I don't mind ending Waeboo arc early.
And I would definitely participate in next thread
>>
>>3749673
I would just like to deal with memory/hood situation before a skip, so we don't keep distant like we are now.
>>
>>3749578
I wouldn't mind this arc ending soon.

Who knows we could even end up working with a certain Legion under the command of a certain Legate.
>>
>>3749686
Now that is interesting prospect, either her or Belisarus.
The question is, do we tell Hood the truth and remember them or we take the medicine to lock Tiberius away and forget them?

Aurelius seems to consider his first stint as a father a failure, I wonder how she is to make him say that.
>>
>>3749684
>I would just like to deal with memory/hood situation before a skip, so we don't keep distant like we are now.

We are dealing with it by not speaking about it
>>
>>3749691
We haven't made that choice yet, we asked shamaness for advice but we were not confronted yet, and she knows something is up, will we use the memory drug again and risk someone from our past talking about it, will we not take it and be eternally guilty tripping, will we talk about a hypothetical leggionary that died 12 years ago?
>>
>>3749620
>when
When I write the intro

>>3749623
As always, grateful (and surprised) people like my navel-gazing stories. Ritual completion would see the true summoning of the kaze gods (who act in concert, like a heavenly court type of deal), but as it did not work with all four islands simultaneously, the sacrificial requirement was not met, and with the flood of Sinaean mercenaries into Honshu where Kyoto is located, things are kind of too fucked up for them to properly vet and sacrifice one thousand virgin women again. They still have the last princess, however.

>>3749673
>>3749686
Not quite finished, it's Tanegashima time

>>3749684
There isn't going to be a lot of timeskip in the next one

>>3749691
Hah
>>
>>3749578
You have quite the case of imposter syndrome my friend! Of course we want more, it was a fine thread no matter what you think.
>>
>>3749696
Thanks, it was marred by interruption and end of break. Rate of posting will suffer as I continue real life shenanigans. Archived the thread, the rest can be read here:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Aurelius
>>
>>3749700
I would say keep the story going as its pretty good.

Whats your end plan for the quest ending?
Mybe we have to go back to the capital as the realy legions have came back?
>>
our first conversation with Sarge


"You don't look old enough to have training in so many weapons," the serjeant said brusquely. "You a deserter from the legions?"

"No. Want to see my arm?"

"No need. Only fething idiots ditch the legions only to join the Company. I'll need you to prove your skills with those weapons later. Language?"

so, is Fox an idiot?
>>
>>3750770
Sergeant would have definitely thought so.

>>3750102
No end plan whatsoever, I'm walking blind here into a real pea soup of a fog



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