There was no hard landing, as old sights Von Walen and Von Illger had aleady been here, for…some reason. Junior Lieutenant Von Walen was ill suited for anything resembling subtlety with a combination of a short temper and a tendency to seethe as a metaphorical tide washed over rather than move out of the way. Von Illger was clearly not even suited for military duty, yet here he was, the bookish, mousey officer finding some contentment in information analysis. He could at least be an asset, though not an active one.

They were not present with him, as Von Neubaum had demanded his own room and space rented with Intelligence Office funds, an apartment four stories up. The highest floor of the squat stone building, though its less impressive height was more than made up for with interior and exterior near crowded with decoration. With him in its balcony, enclosed and warm but with broad windows to open in summer, was one of his tools he found more useful than either of his army comrades- a woman with long, black hair, smooth as silk and groomed such that it was a curtain of deepest night’s hue, that swayed over one eye or the other, sometimes both, but each did their best to be as sultry as both at once. She was bare to the waist, tight indigo denim trousers on her legs unbuttoned, trying to be distracting in such, but Von Neubaum had his mind in other places. Felicia had an inordinate amount of presumptiveness and entitlement, for simply being the first that Von Neubaum decided to take with him- as though she forgot that she had been, and Von Neubaum still saw her in such a way, a whore. She had been pleasing to the eye in nearly every way the officer had preferred, and she had been plucked out of Sosaldt for his continued enjoyment, dressed in silver and silks, and partaken of at will.

Yet she was only one, and Von Neubaum held no favorites. Felicia was attractive, and plenty experienced and able in applying her charm to subjects besides Erwin II at his command (a useful talent to exploit indeed) but she did not stimulate his mind whatsoever. He saw her interests as plain if not vapid, and her demand for attention grating. He preferred the extended company of a Count’s daughter he was courting elsewhere in the city. At least she wasn’t as needy as Priscilla.

“You haven’t so much as touched me this past week,” she grumbled on the couch at one end as Von Neubaum gazed out the window and down the streets, crowded with hawkers. “I have your friend around my finger. Should I invite him to do more than flirt?”

Von Neubaum had seen it fit to exert indirect influence over his comrades in case their interests went in inconvenient directions. Von Illger was happily married- Von Walen was a frustrated bachelor. Neither of them assumed Felicia was what she was to Von Neubaum, so, he utilized her talents. Yet this attempt at applying pressure was lacking in edge.

“If you want.” Von Neubaum replied without so much as looking.

“…Y’know I didn’t mean it,” Felicia sighed and stretched out to lie down, her hair being pushed from her forehead as she did so.

“I am more concerned with how the Referendum is proceeding. Depending upon how it falls, I might have to either take drastic action, or prepare for no small amount of celebration.”

“Celebration, huh.”

“Do you know aught of the Referendum?” Von Neubaum looked to Felicia, undistracted by her bare breasts. He wasn’t in the mood, and that wouldn’t change with the answer he already knew was coming.

“Not really.” Felicia frowned, and batted her eyelashes, “Does it matter? You’re not doing anything right now, why don’t we go somewhere? Do something?”

It was Von Neubaum’s turn to sigh, empty. His pet continued to gaze at him, her fingers going to her abdomen to stroke her stomach. “After this, are we gonna go to, y’know, your place? I mean, all this moving around’s a trip, but the baby…”

Von Neubaum had seen no reason to be careful in Sosaldt, nor any to be much more careful elsewhere, considering he hardly cared about having that sort of reputation. His lack of caution would produce many an illegitimate child abroad, he was sure, but Felicia’s was one that was remaining near to him for longer than he anticipated.

He deflected the question with an addressing of truth. “Shall I take everyone else there as well?” Erwin II might not have cared about appearances of chasteness, but his family certainly did.

Felicia’s face turned distraught, then rebellious. “Hmph. You’re keeping Nella there, anyways…”

“Would you prefer to go back to the wastes?”

“What do you think?” Eventually, Von Neubaum hoped, Felicia would get sick of trying to get him to sleep with her and stop bothering him until she was wanted. “It’s your baby in me. Nella doesn’t have that, Vivi’s pushing up daisies, you haven’t knocked up Prissy, either.” Priscilla was one of the few Von Neubaum did care to try and prevent exactly that with. “I’m just thinkin’ of a time other than today.”

For all her talk, Felicia’s ambitions didn’t reach much higher than the dirt, Von Neubaum knew. It was part of why she had failed to become more than a hobby. He was starting to get sick of her warbling, though, and he knew of a way to fend her off that didn’t work on obsessive Priscilla. “Quiet.” He said sharply, “I have more important concerns than those sorts of things right now.”

The black haired woman’s mouth turned down, and her blue eyes with it. “…I don’t like it when you’re cold to me…” she whimpered.

Von Neubaum exploited that crack in her willfulness as best he could, as he played up putting his fingers to his eyes, sighing again, then walking over to Felicia, putting his hands around her shoulders and sitting her up. “I’m sorry. This is important to me. Still. Tonight. Will that sate your need?”

“…All night.” Felicia pressed, biting her lip. “And you stay with me until morning, and we go out for coffee when we get up.”

“So be it.” As expected. At least Felicia was conveniently predictable with that method.

“There’s a place I heard being talked about that opened, that’s Vitelian inspired. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?”

Frankly, Von Neubaum had had plenty enough of things from Vitelia, but he said, “Yes.” A knock from the door. “Stay here until I return. Duty calls me.” Von Neubaum left Felicia in the balcony room and went round the corner to the door. If it was who he suspected, he couldn’t exactly let the woman be in plain view- and indeed it was, when he opened the entrance.

“Hey,” Von Walen said breathlessly, dressed in the white and green mock uniform the group’s local patron had donated for the startup of their “mercenary company.” “It’s about the referendum. The usual assholes are making noise about a recount. Sick of their shit.”

Von Neubaum knew that Loch must have had something to do with it. Why he couldn’t go bother Von Tracht in Ellowie, he didn’t know. Hopefully it wasn’t out of newfound affection. “Then the usual suspects will need some convincing.” Von Neubaum didn’t bother dressing his part as he advanced forward, pressing Von Walen back and shutting the door behind him, his tone as bored and sleepy as ever, as though he was being forced to do this. Despite it being planned for. For once a preferable place to dispense with subterfuge and politic. “Don’t just stand there gawking. Are the tanks warming?”

“The tanks?” Von Walen did not stop gawking. “The hell do you even mean?”

“Ultimatums are worthless without a good threat. Prepare a half of that threat while I ready the ultimatum.” Von Walen was left to ponder as Erwin II went for a visit to the Count’s daughter.

-----

You are Lieutenant Richter Von Tracht, and you’re doing all right. Not great, but all things considered, you weren’t on a downward trend. A battle had been won handily, some friends had been made, and finally, finally, your eye was on a path to proper recovery. Even the ever present fear you’d felt since your conditioning was removed couldn’t entirely crush your new hopes- though it was certainly doing its best.

The most recent issue to catch your attention, upon returning from having your eye fixed, was your newfound enemy Gerovic sending teams of snipers across the border to harass your men. Thank goodness precautions had led to few men being harmed- and none of your inner circle. It was a concern what with Anya’s penchant for wandering off on her own to mind the children in the woods, as well as for you, if you decided to stray from the protective circle the company made round the headquarters for any reason. For good measure, the most valuable targets would do their best to look…less so.

Your reaction to this new threat would be swift, and though complex in execution, simple in overall direction. The first goal was to divert and distract as much away from vulnerable targets, including the men themselves, as possible, in order to make the attacks themselves less of a threat. This would be accomplished collectively, with whatever ideas could be scrounged up, as well as moving more areas of camps underground as had been in progress before. Some suggestions from troops and officers had been making of dummy sentries to bait snipers, training the troops to pay more attention to direction of sounds, isolating good spots for snipers, but most directly, forming special teams for tracking down and hunting the sniper teams themselves. Those with experience hunting or, in a couple valuable cases, police work, who could cut away and ambush the predators turned prey.

The second part of the plan was to attack the thing that allowed Gerovic to send people over the border to harass you in the first place- the peace that must have been on the other side of the border. Sending raid groups over would either force the Twaryians to use their light troops to properly patrol, or suffer the consequences. If you could get the best of both worlds and eliminate the infiltrators while also creating a need for them where there was then a lack of said troopers, so much the better. Anything to keep your enemy off balance rather than letting them keep any initiative, no matter how minor.

It was an important principle of war after all, referred to by Debon, back to Skarnhorst. The tank is a weapon that is strongest with the energy of the assault, with the wind at its back like a sailing ship of the line, he illustrated in the reading you took up (from Captain Edelschwert’s copy of the book you’d borrowed) while the company prepared itself for the new courses of action, The tank’s armor is no good if it is not being fired upon, its weapons no good if they are firing upon nothing, its treads no good if they are not carrying the tank forwards. In the flux of war, they are too powerful a force to waste in idleness…

Idle your tanks would be, though, as Debon laid all theory on the advice and further assumption that tanks never be in a situation of poor or not-preferential supply, but your current reality was that your current fuel stocks would only allow one more sortie with three tanks- or three more with one. So your resources had to be carefully husbanded until your next fuel ration was delivered in four days.

Despite the fact that much of what was taking place was going on without further interference from you, there were plenty of tasks to take care of after some light reading. Looking over Anya’s report of the other day’s battle after your edits had been made to it in order to balance credit between your company and Edelschwert’s- you hadn’t sparred in a while now, and while you did want to- both of you were currently healing. You hadn’t seen Anya spar with anybody else, which you’d brought up in the past only to be informed that were she to try and take on, say, your driver Malachi or your loader Jorgen in a straight up hand to hand fight, she’d lose in a heartbeat. To put it more bluntly, she’d run away and find a gun rather than be stupid enough to try and take either of them with fists and feet. Which must have shown where you placed on the scale that she was still willing to spar you with one arm in a sling.

Hopefully with her middle uncovered.

No time for tomboy thoughts anymore, you thought as you found the typewriter. It had been some time since you last sent Maddalyn a letter, and though your last encounter was…pleasant, that was hardly an excuse to skimp on sending her news. Even bad news, concerning your eye, though you could now at least add that it was all getting better. She did deserve to know. You even thought on adding a sardonic aside about how your eyepatches could match. You had no shortage of questions- but with no way for Maddalyn to actually answer, there was little point in wasting paper space asking for them. The main query you’d have had is how in the world you’d get Emma back around- the longer she was absent, the more concerning it was.

You hung on the letter’s main body for a bit, distracted temporarily by other matters. Von Metzeler should be returning in…four days, approximately? Shortly thereafter, you would be hosting a war game session to simulate a full scale Twaryian attack across the border. It had come to mind while wondering what to tell Maddalyn about- not that, but that also reminded you of Kelwin’s desire to take on an operation by himself. Something you’d blown him off on by insisting he wait until after wargames. Yet with small scale raids being authorized across the border, could you deny him much longer?

One thing at a time. It was hard to focus under the fear, you’d found. Maybe jumping all over the place was your mind’s defense mechanism, in a way. Letter first, everything else, after. What to make it about, though…

>Nothing but good news and reassurances- anything bad was in a positive light. She had nothing to worry about, it was all under your control.
>It might sound overly sappy, but some morose longing in word form might make her feel better- needed. The poor girl certainly needed it enough.
>Best to focus on what was to come rather than the present. Places to honeymoon, maybe. Things you wanted to see her wear. Or not wear.
>Something a bit teasing. Or completely serious. Echo the first letter you sent back in sentiment and intent.
>Other?
Also-
>Any other business to take care of? Though nobody would blame you for keeping to the camp- considering the recent infiltrations, it’s more likely to encounter enemies in normally safe territory…

Past Threads are collected here: https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
Twitter for announcements and various horseshit is @scheissfunker

Forgot to repost info stuff, I'll just get it next update or as needed.

>>3955295
>>It might sound overly sappy, but some morose longing in word form might make her feel better- needed. The poor girl certainly needed it enough.

>>3955295
>>It might sound overly sappy, but some morose longing in word form might make her feel better- needed. The poor girl certainly needed it enough.
Stick to the camp for now, going out seems to be begging for some sniper to get lucky

>>3955295
>It might sound overly sappy, but some morose longing in word form might make her feel better- needed. The poor girl certainly needed it enough.

>Any other business to take care of?
Maybe start poking around Richter's missing hunting knowledge and consulting any hunters within the camp as a refresher. We can frame it as brainstorming ideas for countering snipers but in actuality seeing what Richter does and does not remember about shooting rifles/camouflage and tracking.

Maybe write a letter to Hilda, we cant just let her wallow in her own selfhate, we risk her doing something stupid like traveling back here and we will need her to be healthy so she Can sharpen our hunting/shooting skills

>>3955295
>It might sound overly sappy, but some morose longing in word form might make her feel better- needed. The poor girl certainly needed it enough.

>Let's also write to Hilda. Nothing special, just so that she doesn't feel forgotten.
>Also let's write to our family, tell them we're alright.
>And finally, go train on a shooting range.

>>3955295
>Something a bit teasing. Or completely serious. Echo the first letter you sent back in sentiment and intent.
It's Richter's calling card by this point. Draw her in with gravitas and sentiment, and then close in with the salaciousness. A classic pincer attack.

>>3955295
>>3956109
This works.
Don't wanna leave our broken toy and our life support feeling abandoned.

I need more coffee.

>>3955304
>>3955329
>>3955999
Stick around in camp- keep things mellow. Ask around about collecting nature's bounty.
>>3956038
>>3956109
>>3956349
Also write a letter to Hilda, the folks, and pick up some shooting.

>>3956319
Prepare to be molested, womanlet.

Writing.

Unfocused as you were, your head jumped to other people to write to- the list was decently long, but…you weren’t particularly occupied, anyways. Laying everything out helped a bit, though. You decided to put to word some of your morose longing that had entered your head. No butt groping or the like, but just the feeling of having your fiancée close, and around. You were bound to her, after all- it might not have been your choice to be engaged to her, but it was you choice to stay with her. The poor girl seemed to never not need for affection, no matter how sappy the monologue you were smashing down might have sounded to yourself.

With a pause, you remembered something silly- before ripping the paper from the typewriter and balling it up, thinking better, and accepting it as a first draft. Maddalyn can’t read print, you imbecile, you thought bitterly as you found a pen and a new sheet of paper and started over. The second draft was better worded anyways, though you did reconsider a few places were, maybe, you were a bit too focused on yourself, rather than her. When the ink dried, you felt some small satisfaction that at least you could still write, before folding it into thirds and setting it aside, on top of a scattered few pages of ammunition and fuel expenditure logs. You weren’t done writing, after all.

Immediately after, you thought to write to your parents- and with them, you remembered, was…Hilda. Wasn’t you writing back a motivation for her to continue learning literacy? Yet you hadn’t yet sent back anything. Had it been about a month now? The more you thought about it the worse you felt about it. Time to fix that. It couldn’t be anything particularly attached, unfortunately- you were still afraid of adding fuel to an obsession. That feeling made the letter uncomfortably stilted in the end, but it was better than continuing to have nothing for her.

That left your parents. You father was easy enough to write to, though you’d tell neither of them about your misadventure, and wounding- mostly for the sake of your mother. Rachel (Or as your father called her, Rae) Von Tracht, formerly of the near extinct family of Von Haffilhoch (birds of a feather drawn together, perhaps- her only living relatives were far flung cousins) before being courted by your father, was kind and caring- and so focused on so that she often strayed towards the neurotic. She never approved of your ventures out into the woods to hunt or the like, and her ever present worrying was the best reason to only share things that were innocuous or pleasant. Best to keep her confident in your strength and ability, even if these days such things felt terribly absent.

-----

When you were satisfied with your communications, despite them taking overly long to complete, you kept on a constructive path. As tunneling and entrenching were already causing the pileup of significant piles of dirt anyways, and easy travel back and forth to Kamienisty to the official practice ranges was threatened by infiltrators, you decided to pull your crews off of normal excavation, to construct a rough range to practice with instead- or at least, a sturdy enough backstop for one. The site was a healthy distance from the headquarters camp- but still within the protection of the platoons. Distance was needed for both long range marksmanship practice, and to not disturb administrative matters too greatly.

Your labors attracted some attention, which wandered out some way to find you.

“What are y’doi’?” Anya came up and asked, “I’m bored.”

“Hey, fluffy.” Hans waved. “Boss wants to set up a shooting range. You want to help?”

“…You should…be resting…” you grunted with annoyance.

“I’m bored of resting. So’re you, from the looks of it.” Anya brushed a finger against your eyepatch in a dismissive flick. “Shooting’s fun.”

“Especially if nobody’s shooting back.” Stein agreed from down lower, where he was filling sandbags with loose dirt.

“…Sure.” Anya gave a hesitant reply, then walked round where the work was going on. “A bit close, isn’t it?”

“Paestol renge up faerst,” Jorgen explained as he stacked filled bags into a wheelbarrow, “Thaen raefle.”

“I wanted to shoot my caster some.” She sidled up and poked your bicep. “Hey, are you keeping up your training? You’ll turn into a bonebag if you quit.”

“Yeah boss,” Hans snickered, “Are you eating properly? Do you need your clothes washed? You need a warm glass of milk?”

“…If you’re going to…crack wise instead of digging…” you flicked a grumpy glance at Hans, “Hand your… mattock over…”

“Dunno about warm milk but he needs a drink for sure. If he does ask for anything we’ll be here ‘til friggin’ sunset.” Anya paid back your favor by metaphorically stepping on your head. “Anyways. It’s been a long time since we visited some friends.” She gestured to the northeast. “Might want to keep on speaking terms. Even if it’s dangerous.”

Dangerous by necessity even. If you were thinking the same thing as Anya, to do such would require the trip to be restricted to the two of you- unacceptable in current conditions. You wordlessly shook your head, and Anya frowned, her brow furrowing in annoyance, reached forward and snagged your shovel from you.

“Lemme,” she said, “You can read or somethin’. Having my arm like this keeps me from training everything, unlike your dumb eye.”

“Ehh heeh, essadahzekreit, ehh,” Malachi chortled to himself through his thick masking as he piled up soil, “flaffbellgoway fahrsnae, ehh?”

Anya paused, and blinked at the mountain man. “…What’d he say?”

Stein offered a blunt translation. “Mal said that you’re shirt’s buttoned up because you’re packing on winter weight.”

Anya rolled her eyes, but Hans found a chance to build on making fun of her. “Hey, boss, next time you’re tusslin’ with Sergeant Fluff in the dirt, do me a favor and pinch her a bit. See where the fat goes, yeah? Might have to start feeding her m-whoop!” Anya neatly hooked her shovel into Hans’s leg and tripped him over backwards with a sharp turn.

“Wow, why’d you do that, could have hurt yourself,” Anya had a smirk again.

An idea came to mind, somewhat inspired from thinking back to Hilda- while she wasn’t present, as a huntress, she would have been the best bet to try and reconnect with your marksmanship- your senses and practices trained from predatory excursions. She wasn’t here, but there were huntsmen. “…I’m going to…check on the hunting groups…” you said uncertainly, ”…Before they go out. I’ll…I’ll be back…”

It wasn’t to shirk out on digging- you did honestly like doing simple tasks with your crew as they made small talk, but your idea had been one of hopeful connections. Poltergeist, in an odd moment of helpfulness rather than being a cryptic freak, had suggested that you could fill gaps in your historical knowledge by drawing connections- and “remembering” through conclusions that would pierce even through the empty spaces in your knowledge. Therefore, there was a chance- you felt, at least- that if you made connections to your marksmanship through its years of practice in hunting…maybe the struggle to regain the skill with ballistics to hit the broad side of a barn with a gun wouldn’t be as arduous.

-----

The Midland Rangers, considering their namesake and preference for recruitment, had no shortage of rural stock- despite many replacement troops coming from urban regions. It wasn’t hard for the officers to gather up the best in their unit to form the anti-infiltration teams, and it was with these people that you hoped to spend some time speaking with- reaffirming what you knew, and trying to get back some of what was lost while the construction of the ad-hoc range proceeded. So, under the modest guise of probing minds for what they were going to do in their assigned task, you went around to a few prospective teams of around ten each.

The first group, you joined around a small fire where they had a pot stewing something- apparently dissatisfied with today’s other pickings, or feeling hungry after them. A hare that had been picked off on patrol, you were told, salt and peppercorns, herbs, carrots, garlic, and an onion. Naturally, the Netillian predilection for far too much peppercorn was obvious at a glance.

“Way I see it,” a man you recognized as one of 3rd Platoon’s squad leaders said as he stirred the pot with a long handled wooden spoon, “You hunt men, not much different from animals. ‘specially in how they move. Everything likes taking the easiest way, unless they know they’re bein’ followed. Though, nothing likes leavin’ track either, and track ain’t just footprint. Bent an’ broken branches, scrapin’ on trees, to keep from leavin’ trace, it’s best to keep on a path. Even if you’re careful, you leave somethin’ that says you’s was there. ‘s why, when you get to a certain point in knowin’, it’s easier to be a good hunter’n a good runner.”

“Hm.” You grunted. That did sound rather familiar- in theory and in practice. Though the freshness of trace also mattered. Unfortunately, none of this had anything to do with marksmanship. “…These snipers…they’ll have long distance optics…probably…do you think you can…can deal with that..?”

“Need coffee, Coordinator?” the squad leader looked over and asked. “Probably still got a pot somewhere.”

You shook your head. That was the last thing you wanted.

“Wouldn’ t’want to shoot from too far anyways,” a somewhat youthful trooper spoke up, “I always liked getting nice an’ close. Only get one shot, and if you don’ place it right, you gotta chase the bugger down.”

“Longer you take to make the shot, the longer you give it to notice you,” criticized another, older trooper. “Get better at shootin’, else the wind might change before you take your shot.”
“Men don’t use their noses ‘smuch as a deer, though,” the younger hunter defended himself, “Don’t have to worry ‘bout the wind so much.”

“Unless you’re a lowlander,” another trooper snickered, prompting some chuckles from around the fire. You didn’t think “lowlanders” smelled that much…unless your lowlander had inoculated you. Again, though, even though your memory was refreshed on tracking and stalking- you didn’t feel the same voids in that knowledge as you did for weaponry. Matches weren’t being made to your shooting- but memories did flow back from times you used what was being brought up, in the past. You sighed to yourself, but remained among them for a little while longer.

-----

When you returned to your people in the late afternoon, the range had taken decent shape. It wasn’t as high as it should have been, but the depth seemed perfectly serviceable. Probably because the other crews had been roped into helping in your absence, no doubt kicked into doing it by Anya.

“Not bad for a day’s work, is it, Lieutenant?” Krause asked as he approached, with the slightest suggestion of a salute. “Not good for the tanks, but, not good to waste their ammunition, anyways. You know, your hotheaded retinue, hard not to tell how restless she’s been. No sooner is everything set up, and she wants a contest.”

“…Really…” you had little faith in your ability to win such a thing- your preemptive withdrawal of participation could certainly be excused.

“She demanded you take part.” Krause said slyly.

Damn it. “…She arrived at that conclusion herself..?”

Krause made an innocent shrug. “You said you needed to get back into practice, right? Honestly, out of the whole platoon, matching you against her might be your best bet. She suggested the same…though she wanted you to make a bet for it, too.”

“…A bet…” you looked over the whole platoon you might be being coerced to embarrass yourself in front of. “…Why..?”

“Said that you might feel more brave about yourself if you put something on the line, take risks, but in a place where the risk isn’t death. I agree, to be frank. Plus, it’ll be fun to watch.”
Sure it would be, you slit your eyes cynically. “…Hmph…”

“I convinced her to let you pick what to use. Rifle range isn’t set up all the way, but, eh,” Krause shrugged, “We can roll a tank up to supplement the backstop anyways. We’ve put the things through harder abuse. I’m recommending rifles, because,” Krause made a motion around his chin. “Little scruff ball has a hard time with rifles, I hear. She prefers shorter guns. If you made her compete with rifles, she might not do good, even compared to you, eh?”

>You aren’t going to be a part of any contests, thank you very much. Not without plenty of practice. Sorry.
>The odds weren’t in your favor- but if Anya wasn’t good with rifles, it at least seemed even. Maybe Luck would favor you.
>There wasn’t any reason to stack the odds in your favor, and you probably wouldn’t be using any rifles if you got into trouble, anyways. Pistols or submachineguns would be the go-to, instead.
>Other?
Also
>If you’re competing- what do you bet? If anything. It can be anything theoretically, from a demand for money to a demand you want of your opponent.

>>3956849
>>The odds weren’t in your favor- but if Anya wasn’t good with rifles, it at least seemed even. Maybe Luck would favor you.
Don't wager anything for now, see how awful our skills are first.

>>3956849
>The odds weren’t in your favor- but if Anya wasn’t good with rifles, it at least seemed even. Maybe Luck would favor you.
>If we win, Anya has to paint pretty pink flowers on her cast.

>>3956849
>>The odds weren’t in your favor- but if Anya wasn’t good with rifles, it at least seemed even. Maybe Luck would favor you.
Loser buys a round of drinks for our crew

>>3956849
>The odds weren’t in your favor- but if Anya wasn’t good with rifles, it at least seemed even. Maybe Luck would favor you.

>>3956849
>>The odds weren’t in your favor- but if Anya wasn’t good with rifles, it at least seemed even. Maybe Luck would favor you.
I'd say stick to pistols but maybe Richter can make the connection to shooting easier if he remembers the times he was hunting. Not about the Boars part and pissing himself though.
>If you’re competing- what do you bet?
Part of me wants to risk something big to see if it kickstarts something but then again Richter almost died when he was ambushed by bandits/Twaryians and it didn't seem to help.

Instead of writing last night I beat up a rock monster in a tranny game and got blitzed on sherry. The program resumes now.
>>3956867
>>3957060
>>3957894
No wager. Who would bet on a game they knew they were going to lose?

>>3956876
Innocent humiliation. What if Anya likes pink, though? You only know what one pair of her underwear looks like.

>>3956887
Enable alcoholism. What else does she spend her money on anyways?

Writing.

With how the odds were already against you considering current skill and forgotten experience, if a contest was demanded, you’d be taking every unfair advantage you could get. Krause hadn’t noted something you thought a significant detail, too. Indeed, Anya was smaller and thus rifles were unwieldly for her, but also, a rifle was a weapon that required the support of two hands- two arms. Anya’s grip would almost certainly be unsteady. Hopefully this combination of balancing factors would even out the gap between you. Not that you had heard Anya was a great shot in the first place, anyways.

You laid out such to Krause, but when he pressed you for what you wanted to bet on victory…you hesitated, then abstained. Ideas did come to mind, but ultimately, even a small, innocent condition for Anya to follow meant she would be justified in exacting whatever ridiculous thing she undoubtedly had thought up. Until you knew the proper extent of your ballistic incompetence, you would be staking nothing.

“She won’t be happy to hear that,” Krause waved a finger.

“…She can bite me…then…” you shot slowly back.

“I’m sure she will.” Krause chortled to himself. “Rifles, then. Let’s get this going. Shouldn’t be too big a problem. The Netillians use the same guns as plenty of people. That one Reich gun that’s everywhere, I think some people back home use it. You know what it is, don’t you? You told me once here.”

You shook your head. “…Not anymore…”

“Somebody’ll tell you then, I’m sure.”

Once you and Krause went up to the shooting position, where places were demarked by singular lines of sandbags, snow brushed away from them, Anya immediately intercepted the two of you.

“Hey, stache!” she said, entirely too loudly for how close she was, “What’d he bet?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid.”

“Piss off,” Anya gave you a dark look of contempt, “Don’t be a pussy.”

“…I’m not betting anything…” you said as firmly as your wavering voice would allow.

“He said you could bite him, otherwise,” Krause threw your statement before Anya, who rolled her eyes.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll bite him.” She snorted, “Hey, goober, I’ve never bitten you even once. How about you bite me instead? Not that you’d need me to tell you for…the third time?”

“A third time?” Krause mused with coy intrigue, scratching his chin with one finger. A few crew nearby snickered, too.

“Know what, that’s your bet, dummy. You win and you bite me.” Anya made your bet for you, much to your immediate chagrin.

“…You can’t…make my bet for me…” you objected tiredly.

“Should have made it yourself,” Anya sniffed, yet smugly. “If you don’t like it, then lose.”

“…An excellent idea…without me knowing…what madness you’ve put up…for your winning…” you grumbled piece by piece as you went to the table to inspect the arms.

“You have to buy me a new gun.” Anya declared. Either she was somehow bored with the Munitions Caster she had received or she was attempting to start a misbegotten harem of firearms. Did you even have the money to buy one? Your actual cash reserves had gotten low since you spent so much on jewelry. It wasn’t all your money that you had with you, but you’d be dipping into emergency reserves for large purchases after that…

You’d play Anya’s stupid game for now, though. It was hard to tell if she was being provocative on purpose, or…considering she’d let you hug her like a stuffed animal, if she had something else in mind that wasn’t just an attempt to provoke you. She’d laid out the terms before the men, though, and as more gathered closer, your pleading looks around told you that you had no allies right now- the smirks and gesturing told you everybody wanted you to do the manly thing and not back down from a challenge- especially not one from this shrewish little woman.

Like hell you were going to bite her though, you thought with a leer…actually, maybe you would bite her out of spite. You just didn’t want Anya to think she’d had you caught.

…Maybe this wasn’t such a good thing to just go along with, as you noticed a few Netillians joining your crews in spectating, as well as the Iron Hogs. The targets were set up- at a relatively generous fifty meters, after the X-80 was driven up behind the unfinished backstop. The targets were a variety of random detritus- a pair of Twaryian square, black metal helmets picked up from the aftermath of previous raids, propped on poles stuck in the ground- a pair of identical beer bottles per shooter, propped on a long shoddy table. Finally, below all of those were sandbag piles with a singular center sandbag in each with a crude target painted on it. From thirty meters, they looked like pinheads…

Before you were finished squinting at it all, a rifle was shoved into your hands, along with a clip of five rounds…hopefully you could figure out how to reload it, again. When you shouldered the rifle, some unexpected help came.

“Hey, moron,” Anya grabbed the gun and pushed up and into the upper part of the crook of your shoulder, before strolling back against the table and leaning against it, not bothering to test how she was going to hold the rifle she’d be made to use.

The rifle felt like unfamiliar weight, and though you knew how a bolt mechanism worked…you didn’t feel like you knew how to work one, foolproof as it might have seemed to think about. The numbers on the sight were hundreds of meters, right? It was set to the minimum. There being an audience really didn’t help matters…

>Declare your target, then take your shot with a single D100. In the interests of time, there’s no limit how many rolls you can take- as long as they’re one at a time. Each target is a DC roll under 15.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>3959077
Sandbag target
Also 15 DC Jesus.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>3959077
Rolling for helmet

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>3959077
Let's get another 74 for consistent badness

>>3959077
Hey tanq are we supposed to roll until we empty the clip or shoot all the targets?
>>3959080
>>3959083
>>3959088
Even the dice gods know Richter is shit right now

>>3959088
Sorry, this was another helmet shot

>>3959091
Until you shoot out all five shots, yeah. Probably should have mentioned how many there was, now that I think about it.

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>3959077
>>3959095
Rolling again then for the other sandbag

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>3959077
Last shot for beer bottle

>>3959080
>>3959083
>>3959088
>>3959099
>>3959108
Don't worry, it happens to a quarter of men at some point in their lives.
Time to see if your competition is much better at DC roll under 25.

Rolled 7, 13, 62, 8, 72 = 162 (5d100)

>>3959111

>>3959115
Rigged

You eventually figured out the loading procedure. Like other aspects of the weapon, it was idiot-proof. Even with a complete deletion of your weapons operation knowledge, your brain wasn’t incapable, and an intuition of the mechanics involved was a decent enough guide to not completely embarrass yourself merely preparing the weapon to fire.
The first shot was absolutely awful and you knew it, as you involuntarily squeezed your eyes shut and tensed up right before you pulled the trigger, having lined up on the sandbag, near obscuring the target with the front sight post. The spray of dirt in completely the wrong bag told you how on the mark you had been.

Maybe you’d have better luck with the largest target, you thought with a sigh as you slowly pulled on the bolt- only for the last shot to not eject. You relearned an embarrassing lesson as you had to brush the hot, spent brass from above the other rounds, before closing the bolt again. Again, you lined up, and then coughed, before shooting and feeling the rifle boot you in the shoulder- you must have pulled it away from you. A clang gave you false hope that you might have hit it from sheer luck- but the spray of sparks came from the tank you struck, not the helmet.

“Judge above,” you heard Stein mutter behind you.

Thanks for the support, you thought sarcastically, as you made a more forceful pull on the bolt, a theory muttered from behind at some point, that you’d have to make sure stuck in your head. A second shot at the helmet blew a chunk out of the table- which wasn’t even close to the same vertical level. No more attempts at the helmet, you thought with a sigh, and picked out the sandbag again. Another rise of hope that you’d hit once as you saw a spray of dirt in the right place- you made a note of what you’d managed to not screw up that time, but your single would be victory was denied by Krause, looking at the field with binoculars.

“Sorry, Richter,” he shook his head with a smile, “That was the one above it.”

“…Still counts…” you muttered.

“No it doesn’t.”

“…Psh…” One last round. Maybe you could at least destroy one of the beer bottles and have a satisfying explosion of glass as a conclusion, but again, a hole was blown in the table. How, you didn’t even know. It felt like it should have been harder to hit that stupid thing than the bottle itself. You resisted the temptation to throw the rifle to the ground out of frustration, but said nothing as you stormed back to the weapons table and discourteously tossed the weapon onto the rest of the pile.

“God, that was shit.” Anya swore, but it didn’t seem to be to mock you. “I mean, I should just win by default, but,” She hefted up an identical rifle, and assumed a prone position at a firing lane. You’d…not considered doing that, you thought, feeling like an idiot as Anya made up for both weapon length and her wounded arm by propping the rifle up, and pushing a clip into the magazine. There weren’t rules about what position to assume, you realized belatedly, and prepared yourself for defeat.

Indeed it came, as Anya’s first shot kicked against her as she held her breath, and with a metallic PRANG the helmet on the right was knocked off its mount. Anya grunted as she shifted against her wounded arm to try and work the bolt with one arm, jerking all over with the clumsy force needed from her position and one armed predicament. Yet, her second shot also hit, as a bottle exploded. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all.

Her third shot missed, as she lay wrong on her wounded arm, and with a sharp gasp, her aim was spoiled, residual pain surely messing with her focus.

“Fuck!” Anya made a nasal, scowling swear, and a few more under her breath with the exertion of preparing the next round, but her focus had returned for the next shot, blowing apart the other bottle in her lane.

…To be honest, you weren’t as mad as you could have been. Maybe female marksmanship was something you didn’t mind spectating. Too bad Maddalyn was blind as well as surely even less knowledgeable in operating weapons than even you were currently…

That distraction made you miss Anya firing her last shot, but her muttered filthy comment told you plenty. She got up, hefted the rifle over her shoulder, and as the audience muttered around you, with a few applauding belatedly, she walked up to you, blowing her bangs out of her face with a sputter. “Better start thinking about what to get me, nerd.” Though she didn’t seem as cocksure as you were sure she should have been.

>State that you’re not getting her anything but more paperwork. You didn’t agree to anything.
>Maybe she had a plan. Agree to procure a new weapon- even if you never agreed to such.
>Bite Anya. (Where?)
>Other?

>>3959173
>>Maybe she had a plan. Agree to procure a new weapon- even if you never agreed to such.

>>3959173
>>Maybe she had a plan. Agree to procure a new weapon- even if you never agreed to such.
Maybe if we can procure some stuff for the hunting teams as well.

>>3959173
>Maybe she had a plan. Agree to procure a new weapon- even if you never agreed to such.

>>3959173
>Maybe she had a plan. Agree to procure a new weapon- even if you never agreed to such.
She never did specify what kind of gun, or that it even had to be functioning. I'm sure there is a weapon merchant equal to Tib of Tab around here somewhere.
>Other?
Maybe tell the nice crowd to get back to work so we can actually practice.

>>3959173
Yeah this isn't half bad. >>3959393

>>3959173
>>Maybe she had a plan. Agree to procure a new weapon- even if you never agreed to such.

>>3959187
>>3959253
>>3959857
Buying more presents for your retinue than you do for your fiancee

>>3959194
>>3959194
With a mind for practicality. Also practice more.

Writing.

Something told you Anya wasn’t doing this solely to mess with you- otherwise she’d be rubbing it in your face a lot more. Or at all. Maybe she had some sort of plan- a plan that you saw no reason to not go along with.

“…Alright…” you said, thinking of if you could find any shady arms dealers who dealt in poor quality cheap weaponry, in case Anya was just making you buy a new gun as punishment for a loss in skill. If not, then maybe some source of interesting arms could be procured for the hunt teams. Not that their current equipment seemed lacking, but who knew what could be found from private enterprises? You did remember that Netilland had bought plenty of weapons from such sources in their rush to equip an expanding army. It would help to reconstruct your knowledge of military weaponry, too- so much of which was lost. “…What do you want, then…”

“Surprise me.” Anya said back.

“…Fine…” you gave a hefty sigh, and looked out over the audience whose show had just ended. “…Can you…clear them out? I…need to practice more…”

“Uh, no?” Anya made a face at you, “It was more than just you and me, dummy. Stick around and watch. See who the best shot is. Then you can have the range to yourself.”

Oh. Easy enough to acquiesce to.

-----

It was easy to notice that the marksmanship standards were upped for the next rounds, and Anya washed out in her very next “match.” A surprise was when Stein, your gunner, wasn’t among the final contestants. None of your crew were, and the best marksman turned out to be Von Metzeler’s gunner. A man by the name of Lenser.

“Effwes aen eax thraeing contest,” Jorgen grumbled later as the winner was given a promissory note for a prize- which involved a copious amount of alcohol. “Waeda won.”

“Good thing nobody throws axes but Yaegirs, else we might have.” Stein said drily, “…Hey, commander. You want some help later? I didn’t win, but, I did place best out of all of us.”

“…Sure…”

“Poor Wes,” Hans pointed a smoldering crew towards one of Krause’s crew, who didn’t seem glum, despite placing third (despite first place being the only prize winner). “He got so close.”

“Whaedhe wend, eh?” Jorgen asked a question you thought Stein should have asked, but the gunner and your radio operator hadn’t been on good terms ever since coming back from Sosaldt.
Hans glanced at you, then beckoned Jorgen closer, and whispered in his ear.

“Heh heh,” the northman laughed, “Whaeda freaek.” You thought about asking what it was, but it was clearly being hidden from you.

“C’mon, I’m bullshitting. Judge above.”

When everybody left, Stein remained with you in your endeavors to improve your marksmanship. You felt you were a quick study- but then again, you technically already knew what you were being taught.

“You have to stop shaking, commander,” Stein advised once after a few shots, as the sun was beginning to reach the horizon, “It’s throwing your aim all over the place.”

“…I’m shaking..?” You certainly hadn’t noticed it.

“…” Stein sighed, “Maybe it’ll help if you’re prone. How does this even happen?”

“…You tell me…” you said as you laid down.

Stein gave you advice on what he could notice, and didn’t speak much besides that- even if it seemed like he had plenty on the mind, he refused to say it. By the time it had gotten too dark to practice anymore, you thought you could at least hit a man sized target…if they were close, your aim was steady, and they were close. It was a small improvement, but you had to take what you could get.

>Shooting Skill now at 1. It doesn’t take a smart or talented person to shoot a gun, but at least you aren’t completely helpless with a firearm anymore.

-----

A pair of Plastuny, light scouts and infiltration troops, lay prone in the woods, starlight filtering through bare branches of the trees above. Their mission tonight was easy and simple- mere looking about rather than anything provocative, but they were recruited for having attitudes that, to be frank, found such duty dull. So fortune did them a favor, and brought something of interest.

“Hey.” One said to the other, elbowing him sharply, “A girl, walking near these lonely woods at this time of night.”

“Huh?”

“Look there. She looks young and tight. Let’s go grab her and have a good time.”

“…You want to do that to some random person?”

“Yeah. Who cares? We can do whatever we like to these people, we won. Come on now. I’ve had enough nights of either being bored stiff or getting chased around. I know some of their rat language, so she’ll get the picture nice and quick, or risk being taken care of.”

The other plastuny frowned, but, his partner was right. The Ellowians hadn’t been a kind people in any of their history- some sin could be excused. It wasn’t distasteful enough to outright condemn, considering the past. The girl had sharp senses, as she snapped around right as they both crept up on her, eyes wide. She was in a dress and wool coat and shawl, with light, fluffy hair, short and slender. Too short for the more reluctant man’s tastes- it made her seem too young and innocent to be doing this too. His partner began with his proposition- a shock as the girl seemed to smile, and respond in something that sounded positive, before saying something else and making a shooing motion to the other.

“Heh heh.” The aggressive plastuny cackled, “See? No trouble at all. She’s horny. One at a time though. Guess you lose tonight. Should have been more forward.”
Whatever, the other scout kept a good grip on his rifle as his partner was pulled away. He couldn’t help but be suspicious, but they had been casing out this place for a good half hour, and nobody was close. It was stupid, but safe enough.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Hey!” the other Plastuny shouted in alarm, as he got down and low again. Damn it all, he should have known. Should he chase after though, or-

Something landed in the snow beside him. He looked over. A grenade? But…why would she have had that…

…

That had been too close, the girl thought as she leaned on a tree, blood pounding in her ears. “Shit. Shit.” She allowed herself to swear aloud. These guys were good. She hadn’t even noticed they were there until they were right on her. If they had wanted to take her right there, they could have, let alone if they weren’t thinking with their dicks and just shot her despite the disguise. She would have gotten away if they grabbed her, she was sure- her other grenade had its fuse taken out, so it could be a good suicide scare, but…damn. Way, way too close. So close that for the first time in a while, she was trembling.

She had to be out here tonight, though. It had been too long since she had the time aside to do this- not only to keep an eye on the children, but also, to make sure certain people didn’t drift away. The Twaryians were already enough of an enemy- no need to have any others crop up because they felt ignored for too long.

-----

The eleventh of January. Three days until everybody returned- until the next time you could write a letter to battalion asking for more resources, until the time would theoretically come to charge back over the border en-masse, barring any sudden changes in plan.

A missive had arrived in the morning, congratulating you on your recent victory. The loss of an enemy armored platoon was a boon indeed- and credit was appropriately split between the participants, as hinted was requested.

>+15 Requisition Points from Raid Results

Next came the reports from counter raids and hunt teams…

>It would be too risky for them to go at night- they would be starting today.
>The raiders went out last night- but the hunters remained in camp.
>The raiders were kept back until now- but the hunt teams had to be operating at all hours. No matter the risk of looking around at night.
>Other?

>>3960966
>>The raiders were kept back until now- but the hunt teams had to be operating at all hours. No matter the risk of looking around at night.

>>3960966
>The raiders were kept back until now- but the hunt teams had to be operating at all hours. No matter the risk of looking around at night.
It actually should be safer at night. The snipers are on the move to or from their positions, not staking out, and low visibility negates their range advantage.

Also
>Shooting Skill now at 1. It doesn’t take a smart or talented person to shoot a gun, but at least you aren’t completely helpless with a firearm anymore.
What were our original stats for all the stuff we lost post-trance?

>>3961030
"Stats" aren't exactly codified or more than a rough idea because
>consistent mechanics
but the shuut equivalent background points at the start of the quest, was at a 6.

>>3960966
>The raiders were kept back until now- but the hunt teams had to be operating at all hours. No matter the risk of looking around at night.

>>3960966
>The raiders were kept back until now- but the hunt teams had to be operating at all hours. No matter the risk of looking around at night.

>>3960980
>>3961017
>>3961052
>>3961054
Raiders have to stay in- but the hunters are the boogiemen.

Writing

The planned minor cross-border raids were held until daylight- but the hunting teams got no such reprieve from their duty last night. While the others slept, their game had begun, to be resumed by others as they got their rest. As some of the members of said teams had recommended, after all, their job was easier in the dark. It was easier for all sorts to hide and move in the dark- especially those playing the role of predator. Any trespassing snipers would have lost their advantages in being the only ones hidden, as well as most likely being in a state of transition or scouting- moving, rather than staking things out, and thus more likely to be caught.

Reports came in of their endeavors last night as you had risen and were groggily spooning porridge into your mouth, more after the heat of it than any nonexistent taste.

>Roll three sets of 1d100. DC 30, degrees of success apply. A failure isn’t necessarily a disaster, of course- considering this is pursuit by larger teams against those who don’t want to be caught in a prolonged fight.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>3961193

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>3961193

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>3961193
Satan guide my dice

tanq does this universe have an Adversary like figure in their myths?

>>3961193
>>3961203
>>3961209
>>3961226
Wait.
I this roll over or under?

>>3961242
It's usually roll under unless stated otherwise

>>3961242
I keep forgetting to say roll under or roll over but thankfully I can refer back to a similar d100 skirmish/battle summary and say that back then it was roll over and thus it is roll over. Though with the DC I probably intended it to be roll under... so I'm retroactively spiking the DC up by 20. Hopefully that's fine.
Though skill rolls should be roll under such as with shooting. I should just make a rulebook for myself.

98-50, four degrees, 62-50, one degree, 77-50, two degrees.

Writing.

>>3961226
>tanq does this universe have an Adversary like figure in their myths?

I assume you mean like a Satan/Lucifer, in which case, faith in the Divine Judgment doesn't have a specific one. Which may prompt an actual explanation of how it works in that capacity.

The Judge is the Arbiter of Justice, the ultimate authority of sin and virtue, and depending on the baseness of one's actions, they are either punished or rewarded for the course taken in life. There isn't a singular adversary as a person, but rather, a "devil" is a reference to any number of corrupting figures, not exempting one that is their own nature, or "inner devil," as one might say.

From here we get to the origin of the Judge and Doctrine, or at least, such is what is believed.

The beginning of the World/Universe was Chaos, and from it, the Judge divorced himself, the first division of Order and Chaos- some would say Good and Evil, but it depends on which church one asks. Nature and the World are generally seen as Chaotic things, while the Judge, and Mankind, as Mankind is believed to be the Judge's will of Order upon a Chaotic world, are manifestations of Order. Getting beyond the transcendent pedantry, the "adversary" could be seen as Earth, from which the Judge separated himself. Such was certainly the justification of militant adherents to the Divine Order purging nature or earth worship in their spread over the world, but ultimately, Chaos would not be widely seen as "evil," but Mankind straying from Order to indulge in Chaos- ie, willful sinning, would be seen as evil, though the motivation for such is attributed to different things depending on sect.

TL;DR You can blame a Devil, though there isn't a singular Arch-Devil, unless you're a follower of the Cathedra. Hint- Richter isn't, as the Reich broke up the Cathedra and purged it from its conquests besides Emre.

>>3961269
So just to make it clear any rolls involving Richter himself is roll under while rolls on the skirmish/unit level is roll over?
Also since the Cathedra is mainly confined to the west now does that mean in the east each nation has their own state church or is it multi-denominational?

Yay lore!

>>3961284
>So just to make it clear any rolls involving Richter himself is roll under while rolls on the skirmish/unit level is roll over?
I wouldn't count on my to keep it consistent honestly. I'll just have to do a better job of always having over/under specified.
>Also since the Cathedra is mainly confined to the west now does that mean in the east each nation has their own state church or is it multi-denominational?
The latter, generally, though it depends. In Strossvald at least it's a soupy mess with very little in the way of authority that isn't on a very local level, so while you have priests, they're often at best in charge of their individual church alone as residual Reich-era laws against religious authorities gaining more than a small amount of influence are kept in place by those who find it convenient.

There was no bad news at all, a great relief for a first night. There were two instances of sniper teams being engaged and chased away- no word on killed or wounded- but them being interdicted was plenty good enough. The best news, however, was from one patrol who got, as they said, “extremely lucky”- capturing a pair of snipers as one was apparently relieving himself. The pair had been brought to the central headquarters and were now under guard and restrained, though neither of them spoke a lick of New Nauk, you were told, so little could be expected from them.
>Two Twaryian "Plastuny" scouts acquired as prisoners.

Much as you would have liked to interrogate them, or try to, or think of a way to do it at all, you were interrupted by the sight of Anya, once more not dressed as she’d normally be, and looking quite tired, indeed. You’d heard she had been out this morning, but you hadn’t assumed she’d gone out. Was that blood spatter on that coat she was wearing?

“…” She blinked over at you, before walking steadily over, dark circles under her eyes. “…Hey. You’re welcome.” Anya trudged off without another word before you could ask what in the world to express gratitude for. You’d have been concerned, but…perhaps if Anya wasn’t sticking around to say it, you didn’t have to know right away. She had headed off for her tent, and you certainly weren’t about to demand she not rest.
It did leave you thinking about what to handle next, though.

>Go right to the new Twaryian prisoners. Maybe you could get something out of them, in spite of the language gap. (Also decide whether to keep them or turn them in to battalion for RP)
>Pursue Anya and pester her. You weren’t going to stew in wondering where she was or what she’d been doing.
>May as well get on to finding some place to get a new gun like you said you would. Regardless of whether you could properly buy one. (Where? What sort of gun are you searching for?)
>Other things? (Including things to do today in general)

>>3961374
>>Go right to the new Twaryian prisoners. Maybe you could get something out of them, in spite of the language gap.
Eakova is Twayrian right? Get her to do the talking. See what they have to say first before deciding who to turn them in to.

>>3961385
Supporting. As for guns maybe get Kelwin to start making enquires with the other units on the line or in town, I'm sure there's a corrupt quartermaster or arms merchant around like those guys back in Sosaldt

>>3961374
>>Go right to the new Twaryian prisoners. Maybe you could get something out of them, in spite of the language gap.

>>3961385
>>3961612
Make this new ugly merc bint speak eastern for you.

>>3961421
Outsource.

Writing.

Anya could be left alone and you didn’t want to dive straight into seeking out new weaponry when there were Twaryians ready and waiting to be processed- and, you remembered, a Twaryian to help process them, Drinking whiskey in the morning probably wasn’t advisable normally, but you didn’t need any prisoners hearing or seeing you struggle with words overly much. It during in this morning drinking that you sought out Captain Kelwin.

“…Captain.” You saluted, and he saluted back. “I have a task for you. See…I want to procure…new weaponry. Not the standard issue…I’d like you to scout out places where I can find some…I was hoping, perhaps, for any special armorers, quartermasters…merchants the party buys from…”

Kelwin didn’t seem very pleased with this assignment, but he nodded discontentedly. “I guess I’ll see what I can find.” That wasn’t his usual tone- but his frustration, hopefully, would be minded to in just a few days. Not like you hadn’t ever been struck by impatience while at the academy.

Is that why you did it?

It?

Don’t play ignorant.

You didn’t want to keep thinking back. Not right now. It wasn’t time to wallow in the distant past for no reason.

“Coordinator?”

“…Yes. Thank you. That’s all…” you saluted and hurried on. There was another person to get to- the one person who might be able to help you with your next endeavor.

Eakova didn’t linger near her crew, or seem to be socializing. The scruffy red-haired splotchy-faced woman was leaning against her tank’s left side, staring at the hill where an outpost now was. She glanced back to you as you came up, then back to where she was looking, saying nothing.

“…Miss Eakova-“

“Not Miss,” Eakova snapped, “Junior LT or Lieutenant. Definitely not Frances.”

Two words and she was biting your head off, you thought with an irritated, short sigh. “Junior Lieutenant. You’re a Twaryian…right? So you speak the language..?”

“Haven’t in a while.” Eakova pushed herself off the side she was leaning on and crossed her arms as she turned to face you. She had rolled her sleeves down, but the top of her tunic was still unbuttoned. Anya might have gotten away with being constantly out of uniform dress- but you considered strongly whether you’d let that be the case for anybody else, even mercenaries. You were paying her, after all. Well, the Republic of Mittelsosalia was paying her in your name. “Why, you want to learn some new swear words?”

“…No. A pair of Twaryian prisoners were captured last night. They’re being kept apart…and neither of them know any New Nauk. I need a translator…”

Eakova shrugged. “Alright, whatever.” That was easy. “Do me a solid, though.”

“…Okay..?”

“Set me up with your pal when he gets here. That cool?”

You blinked, and made absolutely no promises. “…We’ll see…”

You beckoned, and had the mercenary officer follow you to where the prisoners were being kept. They were tightly lashed to chairs by their wrists and ankles, and kept completely apart in separate tents that had actually been long erected just for a purpose like this. Each prisoner had three armed guards- no chances were being taken whatsoever, not that the manpower was in desperate need elsewhere anyways, for now.

You motioned for the guards around the first prisoner to leave once you entered their tent with Eakova- and they did so with a nod. The first sniper was a man in maybe his mid-twenties, with short cropped hair, a shadow of facial hair, and square features that made him look of a rustic sort. He was in good spirits, with eyes closed and a small turn upward in his mouth. As the guards left and you and Eakova stayed, he opened his eyes and looked at both of you.

The prisoner whistled lowly at Eakova. “Eyyy, ty zakzualin nizhae podbrodkha,” the captured sniper sniggered.

“Traehkne saebya,” Eakova snapped back.

“…What’d he say…?” you couldn’t help but ask.

Eakova framed her breasts with her hands. “Guess.”

“…Something about your face, wasn’t it…”

“How did you-hrmph.” Eakova cut herself off. “So what did you want to ask him?”

“…I wanted to see if he wanted to say anything himself, first...” you said. It would have been good to get his attitude, first. If it was terrible, you could move on to the other prisoner.

Eakova relayed what you said to the prisoner, who smiled, and laid down a line of eastern gibberish- which Eakova responded to with something of her own, before shedding her headband, lifting her bangs, and showing…something on her forehead? You leaned forward to look- it was a line below another line with an upward curve in the center, tattooed in black. Eakova curled her lip as you peeked and covered her head again. “Fuck off.” The prisoner talked some more, and kept talking, but Eakova didn’t seem to be listening to him past that.

“He said that he’s not telling a filthy heretic jack shit,” Eakova said, “And that his partner would tell you the same thing. Right now he’s just spewing bullshit he thinks is funny.”

“…A heretic..?” you crooked your brow, “…Huh..?”

“That’s what you are. A heretic.” Eakova said as though it were obvious. “Not that I hold it against anybody who is, not like it’s their fault. The Cathedra and Alexander’ve had their mitts on you for a damn long time. But yeah, he said he’s not gonna say anything.”

>Ask questions anyways. Maybe you could get a few simple small answers so long as you were cordial.
>You’d see about that. Time to be coercive. (What do you ask, and how do you squeeze the answers out?)
>Maybe this one wouldn’t be cooperative, but his partner might be different, despite what he says. Go to the other prisoner.
>This would be a waste of time. Bundle these eastern crapsacks up and send them to Battalion for a reward.
>Other?

>>3961892
>>Maybe this one wouldn’t be cooperative, but his partner might be different, despite what he says. Go to the other prisoner.

>>3961892
>Maybe this one wouldn’t be cooperative, but his partner might be different, despite what he says. Go to the other prisoner.
But before we go:
>Other?
Have Eakova tell him that we might be heretics but we also weren't caught with our pants down in enemy territory.
Hopefully his reaction will tell us which one of them screwed up. Every little bit of info helps I suppose.
Also mention that we only require one prisoner to send back. Cooperation may be key to determining who that is.

>>3961892
>Other?
Lean in on our hereticalness.
Tell him it's a good thing he's refusing to talk, because then we can sacrifice him for our upcoming heretical holiday and not bother with catching a local.

>>3961892
>Maybe this one wouldn’t be cooperative, but his partner might be different, despite what he says. Go to the other prisoner.

>>3961892
>>Maybe this one wouldn’t be cooperative, but his partner might be different, despite what he says. Go to the other prisoner.

Never try and substitute milk in cereal with eggnog.

>>3961924
>>3962292
>>3962331
You have a choice of two, after all.

>>3961981
Why yes, I am the embodiment of treason to order, now wait warmly as you are sacrificed to either the Earth or Sea.

>>3961951
A light jab to identify who is who. Also mention that this might turn into a contest.

Writing.

>>3962631
>Not sacrificing him to the Sky Father
It's like you don't even PIE.

This prisoner didn’t seem cooperative- though maybe his partner would be. Not that you wouldn’t give the Twaryian sniper a few things to stew on before you left.

“…Junior Lieutenant,” you turned your head to Eakova, “Can you tell him that…it’s a good thing he’s not talking, because we needed a human sacrifice for our heretical holiday..?” Eakova slowly shook her head at you, eyes fixed and unamused. Unappreciated in your own time, you were. “…I mean, he should be reminded…that we have two prisoners, and only really…need one…So as long as that’s said…but also, say that we may be heretics, or whatever…” You really had no clue what the significant differences between what you and this enemy believed were- it had never been relevant, really. “…But we also weren’t caught with our pants down in enemy territory…see how he reacts…”

Eakova rattled off Twaryian babble, and though she did get a response, you were alarmed when she drew her handgun at her side, raised it up and bashed the prisoner in the collar with the front, eliciting a sharp Agh! and what sounded like a swear, followed by a severe, angry verbal addendum from Eakova as she holstered her gun again.

“W-what-“ you belatedly tried to restrain Eakova’s arm, “…What are you-“

“Giving that threat you said to make some more meat to it,” Eakova didn’t move at all as you held her arm at her side, besides giving a look like a cat was wrestling with her. “We can move on whenever. He said we were having a favor done for us getting to check him out anyways.”

Pistol whipping the prisoner hadn’t been at all what you meant, but it wasn’t as though you could go back on it now. You’d have to keep a closer eye on Eakova in case she lost patience with the other prisoner as well. The guards went back in as you and Eakova went out to speak with the other captured sniper.

The other unfortunate Twaryian was much more quiet, in that he didn’t say a single word, even when prompted to. He smoldered in silence, ignoring all he was told. When Eakova snapped at him and reached for her hip again, the only reason you were quick enough to stop her was because you had been waiting for her to do it for a good few minutes.

“What?” Eakova snapped at you next as you held onto her with both arms, “Knock it off!”

“…No hitting this one,” you wheezed, “Not yet at least…”

“…Psh.” Eakova loosened. “Fuck it. Fine.” Her volatility was making her a problem, but there weren’t any other options to breach the language barrier.
That said, this one might have been shaping up to be even less convenient than the other, rude one. Not that you expected them to spill their guts immediately, but you wouldn’t have turned down a bit of gentlemanly socializing rather than…this. The smoky eyes burning holes in the wall of the tent beyond, pretending you didn’t even exist.

>You had to butter them up a bit first, maybe. See if you could draw some conversational mood out with something kinder than a cracked bone. (What?)
>This wasn’t going to be pretty no matter what if you wanted anything. Start being more coercive. (How?)
>No matter what you did, you probably wouldn’t get answers out of either of them at this rate. Shuffle them off the Battalion HQ. (Unless you have alternate ideas for them…)
>Other?
No matter the course of interrogative action, or who you pick to do it to (make sure to specify which one, if not both of them), go ahead and list your questions as well.

>>3962735
>>Other
These guys seem fanatical enough that even torture much less dialogue wouldn't be useful.
Might be a stretch but maybe inform the IO we managed to snag some Twaryians and see if they want to take a crack at interrogating them? They probably have ways to make them spill the details if the trance thing is anything to go by.
Possible questions:
-Get their rank,name and unit
-How big is the infiltration force and what were their orders were
-Find out more about Gerovic in general

>>3962735
>Give them to Edelschwert
It's not tankers, but better than Ellowian collaborants.

>>3962882
What's Edelschwert going to be able to do with them though considering he doesn't even have a translator? Must as well hand them in to Battalion and get that RP

>>3962735
Supporting >>3962823 but if that isn't possible then
>No matter what you did, you probably wouldn’t get answers out of either of them at this rate. Shuffle them off the Battalion HQ.

Hey tanq while we're at it when these guys were captured did they have any possessions of note on them?

>>3962823
Supporting

I am here.

>>3962882
Hey Maggy here's a present.

>>3962823
>>3962957
>>3963501
If they don't talk, try and get the people better at forcing words out than you to do it. Not like they'd turn down a chance for mutual cooperation and benefit, being allies, right? Suggest a few questions too.

Writing in a bit.

>>3963298
>Hey tanq while we're at it when these guys were captured did they have any possessions of note on them?
Not of immediate notice, beyond being frisked for weaponry and similar things they're not allowed to have anymore. Unless their personal items are of particular interest, in which case you can frisk through them, though they certainly didn't have anything unusual enough for the captors to report- besides a rough map of your territory with markings in places close to your positions.

Its been awhile but have we broken the cute scared girl yet?

>>3963534
Only thing I can think of is confiscate any religious icons they have so we can use later for infiltration.
Also get a primer for their religion, either Eakova or more official source.

>>3963682
If by broken you mean she's now crispy, depressed and pregnant as well as banished away from Richter, then yes I suppose so.

>>3963534
>markings in places close to your positions
Place booby traps there

File: Who needs tits when you g(...).png (223 KB, 783x1018)

223 KB PNG

Just a reminder that Maddlyn is a cutie and the best wife a man could ask for.
Any red blooded man would be lucky to have a wife so beautiful and loyal.
Richter is really lucky to have her.

>>3964248
For once your fetish matches mine Ceg.

>>3963534
I'd say pass the map over to the hunting teams, let them go investigate

From what you could see of how things had gone and where they could be assumed to progress, your efforts to squeeze any information out of these prisoners would prove futile. However, you had a rare close partner here in Netilland skilled in interrogation- ones who’d likely appreciate a gift like these men anyways. It would mean no political capital with the battalion for turning them in to be processed by the Netillians, but this was for Strossvald, after all, not Netilland.

“…We’re done…” you told Eakova, “I have another idea. One that’ll work better than anything we can do here…”

“That is..?” Eakova asked like she could expect to be told.

“…My business. Not yours. You can go off…”

Eakova harrumphed and left without so much as a good day. You gave the prisoner being left behind a small glance before you left- you’d pity what the Intelligence Office might do to him if what they could do to enemy prisoners was half as bizarre as what they were willing to do to their own countrymen.

A few small tasks were left to the guards before you dismissed yourself from the area, though. The Twaryians had had all possessions such as weapons or tools or equipment confiscated, of course, and most likely a few possessions of personal value on top of that. It was a particular article among the latter that you expressed a particular interest in- religious icons. Icons weren’t a particularly popular thing to have among most places you were familiar with, but they used to be in great fashion in Nauk Imperial, before the foundation of the Cathedra. That had been a detail that slipped the mind but returned to you in Southern Campaigns- where mention of such in passing was accompanied by an explanatory aside at the bottom of the page. Indeed, icons had been confiscated, though the seizers were loath to give up souvenirs. Not as though they were more than polished wood and mother of pearl and brass. The shape was the same, though on one of the pieces, more embellished, as that had been tattooed on Eakova’s head. You’d have to ask what the symbol was at some point, as well as a refresher on the particulars of the older sect of faith- first from the IO, perhaps, then from Eakova, who had called you a heretic, so you could assume she still held the beliefs of her old country. You weren’t planning a conversion, but any attempt to impersonate a Twaryian in the future without suitable fervor in their faith would most assuredly go awry in the event it was pressed.

A simple map had also been found on the prisoners- a rough map of your operations area. It tragically lacked for information on the other side of the border- there were markings on it close to where the platoon camps and headquarters were. You thought it simple to conclude that these were merely the locations of your concentrations, but, you had it passed along to the hunter teams regardless. Maybe there was something deeper.

Plenty to think upon and be left to others as you prepared a visit to a tall woman.

-----

Without Von Metzeler and the need to move in larger numbers due to the sniper threat, getting a group together to potentially meet with the Major was more complex at the moment than usual- one of your more explicit instructions in your interactions was to avoid involving enlisted in communication with the Intelligence Office, so you concocted a justification to take your crew to Kamienisty- a small recreational trip to see a midday movie. One that you’d leave them to while you took care of other business, naturally. They were allowed to know you were up to “higher up business,” so it wasn’t actually a big deal when you needed to break. Just a pain to keep normal to all other observers.

“Couldn’t have come in the evening instead?” Hans asked as you were breaking off from the others, “New cabaret opened the other day. More stuff coming in, gotta keep places from getting too crowded.”

“…I’ll pass…”

“For us, boss, not you.” Hans turned you around with a hand, “Not all of us have a retinue. Now shoo.”

”…Gladly…” you said testily as you shuffled off.

-----

The usual tavern was entered, empty as usual, though as you thought of what drink to order for the Major’s strange game, the aging bartender spoke some of the few words you’d ever heard him utter.

“She’s not here today.” He said in a soft, low voice, leaning on the back wall and listening to a record player drone a violin and piano tune. “Outta town.”

“Hrm…” you rested your chin on the counter.

“Someone else’ll come.”

“…Hm…”

“Something about south’a here. An’ further in north. Who knows which.”

“Mhm…”

The two of you were having an absolutely fascinating conversation, which was sadly interrupted not by the clacking of tall heels, but by a shuffling step.

“Lieutenant.” The voice sounded somewhat familiar, as did the face when you turned to look at the man, but you couldn’t place where.

“…Do I know you..?”

“No.” the agent said sharply, before sitting next to you. “What is it, out with it.”

“…Ah…well…” you cleared your throat, “It’s a matter of Twaryian prisoners. A pair of light infantry, snipers…were taken last night. I can’t get much out of them…but I was thinking…perhaps you could..? They could be useful to you in general…”

“No names or ranks?” you shook your head no. “Meh. Probably nobody important. Not gonna turn it down anyways. Major’d skin me even if it turns out to be a waste of time like it probably is. I’ll send some people to pick them up. You’ll know who. Guess you want us to ask a few things of them too, else you’d not even have tried to get anything out of them.”

“…Yes…I wanted to know their names, ranks, unit…the size of their infiltration force, their orders…and about Gerovic, who I’m sure is commanding them…”

“You’ll get a letter.”

“…Oh, and, you don’t happen to know...a lot about the Twaryian sect of Judgment, do you? I might have known but…I’ve forgotten…”

“Forgotten, huh,” the IO operative pulled out a pad and jotted something down on it, stashing it away before you could peek at it. “Tough luck. Yeah, I could tell you. It’s the Old World Church, as most call it. I won’t talk your head off with a history lesson, find a proper adherent if you want that, but as far as the differences in what they believe from us goes, it’s a matter of authority and penance.”

“…Authority…I presume like the Cathedra..?”

“In a way. The Church of Caelus has a similar deal of representing the Judge and guiding his will in the world, the Cathedra sort of broke off from that because of the Maelstrom east and all. Then you know the deal, ol’ Alexander decides he doesn’t like that the Patriarch and the Cathedra in general is being a pain in the ass, and topples the whole thing. Now the Judge doesn’t have any hands in politic here no more, or at least, the people claiming to interpret his will don’t. So that’s two levels of heresy as far as the Twaryians’d be concerned. No adherence to the old church, or even adherence to a holy estate at all. The presumption of the Judge’s will being so chaotic and lacking in power that just anybody can interpret it their own flawed way rather than appointing the most virtuous and just, as they put it, is the bug in their ass about that one.”

“…And penance?”

“Big one.” The IO agent said with a nod, “Course you know the idea of having your sins judged. The Big Man comes around himself and decides if you were too bad to let into the hereafter, along with everybody you’ve sinned against, helped, loved, you know. Then once you’re judged, that’s it. The Old Church don’t see it that way.”

“…What,” the idea seemed immediately strange, “The Old Church will reach in and…pull you out of hell..?”

“Nah, nah. That would be some nice cutting blasphemy right there. No, their idea of the Penance is taking another’s sins onto your shoulders. It’s not something anybody has to do- hell, a virtuous person isn’t supposed to. If it’s a close friend, though? Or your family? You can try and say, hey, Big Man, I’m gonna be extra good, so that’ll make up for how big a dick my brother or whatever was. Oh, and they gotta be dead to do Penance for. That’s a big one. The point I’m leading to,” the agent poked out imaginary dots on the counter, “Is ancestry. The Old Church helps facilitate Penance, and one of the ways you can do Penance is to embark on Crusade. Holy War against the Heathen and the Heretic- for their own Penance, of course. They’ve got a whole pack of Militant Orders for that. More complicated than I put it, though. If you know anything about the Cathedra, for example, the Cathedra explicitly bans militancy. Bet they wished they hadn’t when the Kaiser came around, ‘course.”

That gave you a thought, and you produced the holy symbols for the Intelligence Office man. “…What are these, then..?”

“Ah.” The IO spook picked them both from you, laid them on the counter, looked at their fronts and backs closely. “This symbol here are The Scales. It’s on the Twaryian flag, even. A companion to the Hammer of Judgment, in older sects. What it represents for the Old Church, is the redressal of balances. The Judge is Just, you see, so eventually, a pendulum swings one way, it’ll swing back the other way, at least until things are balanced again. Don’t ask a Twaryian what they consider a balanced state, though. Anybody with this has some sort of Penance, whether it’s a Retributor’s Penance,” he pointed to the more embellished of the two icons, “Or a Father’s Penance.” The plainer, all wooden one was pointed to. “You can tell by the lack of lines outward. Nothing on the scales to balance yet. Father’s Penance is sort of hogwash. It’s a declaration, basically, that you’re trying to keep anybody down the line from having to pay Penance. That’s not how it works in the Old Church, so, make of that what you will. Anyways, these icons are pretty common. It’s normal to not have one, but a lot of Twaryian soldiers tend to have ‘em.”

So what you got from all of that, was that the primary differences in belief were the worldly authority to answer to, and the difference in how Judgement was carried out at all. Though the specifics would have to be studied elsewhere, from the sound of it…

>Any more questions/issues to bring up?
>Anything else to do while in Kamienisty?
>You’re through here with that explanation, then. Things were arranged for the prisoners at least.
>Other?

>>3963682
>Its been awhile but have we broken the cute scared girl yet?
You'll have to be more specific!
>>3963779
Though I doubt anybody has ever referred to Hilda as "cute."

>>3964248
This image has a cursed history. I have my doubts as to whether it's really that difficult for somebody who rarely leaves their room let alone home to be loyal but don't mind that.

>>3964533
>>Any more questions/issues to bring up?
Ask him if they've any updates on the Twaryian side of the border that they can share with us; also if Kelwin's in town must as well see how the search for arms is going.We have Eakova if we want to learn more about Old World theology anyway.

>>3964533
>Any more questions/issues to bring up?
What kind of propaganda do Twaryians hear about us heretics?

>>3964533
>Any more questions/issues to bring up?
-Update on the Twaryian side of things
-Updates on Strossvald, I don't think we've got much news from home
-Ask about Eakova's head thing
-Ask about interesting places to buy arms

>>3964535
It isn't difficult because it comes naturally, of course!
Can't you let her fucking have this?

>>3964540
>>3964571
>>3964576
Supporting

>>3964533
>Any more questions/issues to bring up?
I'd like to try asking the question again a little more broadly whether or not we've encountered this guy before, but the spook's probably not going to tell us anything he doesn't have to, that's his job afterall. Ask if he knows how long we can expect the Major to stay absent and what the chances are that we might meet him again while we're in Ellowie.

>>3964533
>Any more questions/issues to bring up?
About what percentage of the Twaryian Armed Forces here are crusaders/militants?

>Anything else to do while in Kamienisty?
How are we on funds? Are we closer to 1 big purchase or just a few smaller ones?
Either way refill that flask with something special from the bartender here if he's got it on hand
Maybe buy some jerky for Anya since she's likely to be pissed off at us for some reason or another.

>>3964540
>>3964571
>>3964576
>>3964584
>>3964982
All sorts of questions!
>>3965421
A few other shopping errands. And not forgetting to check on Kelwin's scouting for guns.
>How are we on funds? Are we closer to 1 big purchase or just a few smaller ones?
The former, though you'll be scraping pfennings afterwards. It might be nice to find a way to potentially collect donations, have sales, or just confiscate money, unless the emergency reserves are invoked.

Writing.

“…They don’t happen to have any special propaganda about…heretics, do they..?” you asked.

“What, like how we run about smeared in blood, speaking in tongues of hell, and switch between screwing our sisters and eating their flesh?” The IO operative rattled off a string of overblown fantasies. “Nah, they don’t think of us like that. We’re the misguided flock at best, the eager slaves to the Kaiser’s will at worst. So really, they’re just calling us a different shade of Imperial when you get down to it. Not that that doesn’t let them do plenty of bad things to us. Did you know that a crusader can’t commit a sin against a heretic? Their virtue can be clouded, but, if they can say it was to serve the cause…keep your tomboy close, see. Don’t curl your lip at me like that, Lieutenant, I’m trying to look out for your people.”

You grit your teeth and tried to focus on finding out more information. Interesting- fury seemed to dissolve the fear… “I want…I want to hear about any news on the Twaryian side of the border…anything that can be shared is fine…everything helps…”

“Most of what I care about is above your pay grade, Lieutenant,” the spook said forebodingly, “It’s hard to get much on the ground, so we mostly have radio interception, what we can try and decode, at least. Twaryians are better at security than you’d think, and getting a proper in’s been hard. Not that many of ‘em both leave their homes, and also want to go back to work against them. Anyways, one thing is troop and materiel movement. The Twaryians have been trying to build up the Revolutionary League, from our Ellowian contact’s word. You know them, right?” you nodded. “Less I have to explain, then. The reason Gerovic’s such a pain in the ass is that he’s drawing a lot more to this sector than is normal everywhere else. The Twaryians have mostly been trying to calm down the territory they’re occupying. They’re not used to having the flanks to watch or the infiltration from places like Sosaldt like Netilland is, so their movements suggest that they want their rear lines absolutely stable before they think of escalating. Gerovic acts like he disagrees, of course. He’s gathering assets, and I bet you can tell, he’s been using them offensively.”

“…That he certainly has been…” you mused.

“Normally that would mean that he’d be leaving more space for people like the ERA and NLF bands to operate, but he’s also got enough Revolutionary League backup to keep that from bothering him. Too bad for you.”

Indeed. Not that you had figured Gerovic would let you have it easy. “…About Twaryians and their faith…I’ve recently hired a mercenary with that symbol, the Balance...tattooed on her forehead. What…does that mean anything..?”

The agent gave a low whistle. “Pheeow, you’ve found yourself a runaway. She’s supposed to be stuck in or near a convent. Remember what I told you about penance? Well, children can choose to serve penance for their parents, seen as a very noble thing to do, to sign themselves over to the church for the sake of their ancestors…can’t think of what she’d be doing out. Though…you don’t mind lending her over, do you? As I’ve said, we’ve got a lack of Twaryian agents and all. If not, no problem, but it could be worth your while…”

You doubted Eakova would want to do that or accept such a thing being foisted upon her, especially without knowing what she’d want in return. “…I’ll think about it…speaking of their religious orders…do you know how much of their military is in one or the other…how many of them are crusaders or militants…”

“Hm.” The agent thought, then thought some more, scratching his chin, “Don’t know. I’d bet you could flip a coin for each one, just a guess. There’s no real reason to not be one if you’re serving anyways, I think.”

So the safe assumption for “how many of them are in an order” was “yes.” Good to know. Bad to actually be a thing, perhaps. “…Is there any news from Strossvald..?” your curiosity strayed from business.

“Oh, yes, you don’t get many newspapers from the west back here, do you. This is a big one. The Crown Prince of the Archduchy’s gone missing on a hunting trip, and he’s been gone for about a week straight. Doesn’t seem good. Really puts succession in a bind too, since the heir’s now Archduke Siegfried’s grandson, Alden.”

You swallowed involuntarily. Two, soon three years ago, in the middle of 1930, the original Crown Prince of the archduchy was murdered. Your father, it turned out, had defended the heir to the Blumlands in court against a false accusation for the crime of such. Now, the Archduke’s other son had gone missing..? Left unsaid by the spook, was that Alden Von Strossvald was a mere six years old. The Archduke was hardly unhealthy, though, or overly old at fifty six. Hopefully he stayed strong.

…Even you knew something was fishy, but you wouldn’t dare bring such up.

“Not exactly Strossvald news, but it does involve your friends you galloped off to Sosaldt with, as they’re presently there doing honest work. It is IO business, and congratulations, you’re up enough that you get to be told, rather than having to read about it yourself. An alliance of Plisseau’s southeastern-most city states, the under their so-called Almizean Treaty, has been finally having a referendum upon joining the Archduchy as a new territory, for protection against their neighbors. The announcement of whether or not Almizea becomes the Archduchy’s newest acquisition is supposed to be today…though I’m sure you can guess that we wouldn’t let those who wished to be protected go without when we’re so close and at hand.” The agent waved a hand, “If it gets messy, a few more of your fellows from the Academy who didn’t get a time in the sun in Valsten are chomping at the bit to get involved. Who can say if it’ll go one way or the other?”

You and your fellow spooks could, probably, you thought darkly, brow furrowing. “…A glass of wodka please, sir…” you called over to the bartender to help reinforce your composure as you felt the buzz fading and the fear whispering in the distance. The bartender quickly flipped a squat glass onto the counter and a bottle of cloudy wodka.

“Rocks?” he asked.

“…No thank you…and fill my flask here, too..?” a few moments later, the barkeep slid the glass down to you as he walked by to the other end of the counter, filled the flask next, then continued on out a side door. “…You don’t happen to know of places…to buy weapons, do you…of all sorts, surreptitiously or no…”

“Why, tired of secondhand Netillian garbage for your boys?”

“…No, I…I lost a contest with my retinue, and now I have to buy her a gun…figure I can take care of other things too…maybe…”

The IO man snickered. “Heh heh. You pay her, she beats you up, you buy her things and you take her to parties. I’ve never known a man who agreed to be married to two women who could then only fuck one, but congratulations, Von Tracht, you’re a first.” Your ears and cheeks heated up and you felt them turn crimson with that comment. At least it was an original jab, you thought as you cooled back down, and not the tired and irritating implication of sexual impropriety. “Have a sense of humor. Not like you can hit me anyways. If you want the biggest market of armaments in easy reach, you already know about it, don’t you? Passed through it last week? The funnel, Spout Market? It’s only gotten bigger since Ellowie fell.”

Not the answer that you were looking for, but it was a reminder, at least. You had some residual annoyance as you said next, “…Not that you aren’t pleasant as pie to talk to…but when can I expect the Major to be back..? And will I be seeing you again in Ellowie…?”

“That’s not in your lane, Lieutenant.” The IO operative warned. “Only reason you get to hear from me is because she’s back tomorrow anyways. The rest you don’t worry about.”

“…Whatever…” you pounded back the rest of the wodka glass before dropping it with mock daintiness back on the bar, “…Bye.” You’d gotten what you wanted from the IO, more or less, and you weren’t going to be kept there a moment longer.

-----

Kelwin had come to Kamienisty with an escort, so he wasn’t difficult to find him once you started asking questions. “Coordinator,” he saluted when he spotted you approaching, and you saluted halfheartedly back. “These men…” he gestured to what looked like men of…first platoon? One of the hunt teams. “They were going to the new cabaret this evening, I thought perhaps, I would go with them, since they invited me, and all.”

“Borcholm said we could have this evening off since we caught those guys,” one of the rangers beamed brightly.

“…I see…” you didn’t know how much you wanted any hunt teams pulled off duty, but… “Any luck on the favor I asked..?” you questioned of Kelwin.

Kelwin sighed, as his own invitation went unaddressed. “I asked about it. You can get special requisition of arms with enough pushing…not a lot or anything big, but a few. I have an inventory you can look at later, though some things have production backed up, so you’d have to wait anyways…”
>Using RP, you can requisition singular pieces of weaponry for yourself or others. They are not included on the unit equipment roster, and thus will not be replaced if lost, though some equipment is only available through these channels.

“What do you have there?” Kelwin pointed to a bag you carried in hand.

“…Oh,” you looked down at it, “Cured Dried Pork Belly, with spicy honey as a marinade, or…something…I got it for Sergeant Nowicki.” It seemed like a cheap and easy way to deflect some inevitable later anger. She had seemed frustrated with something this morning.

“Hm.” Kelwin sucked on his lower lip a moment. “So, uh. The cabaret, this evening? Do you want to come?”

>You’d pass. You already had exclusive access to ogling the most beautiful woman in the world.
>What was the harm? Even if it wouldn’t be interesting, it would be good to be social with Kelwin. They served drinks there, anyways. It wasn’t a dirty brothel, after all.
>Tell Kelwin that he shouldn’t get too attached to those plans. You had something for him to do. (What?)
>Other?
Also-
>Rely on this new catalogue for procurement. It was easy and official, best to keep things clean.
>Spout Market was big and undoubtedly not limited on possibilities to seek out. You’d have to schedule a trip there…
>Continue searching for a more local enterprise. You had the time to be picky about finding new toys off the general market.
>Other?
I’ll get you all an overview of the catalog when I get back.

>>3966813
>>What was the harm? Even if it wouldn’t be interesting, it would be good to be social with Kelwin. They served drinks there, anyways. It wasn’t a dirty brothel, after all.

Spend some time with ya boi, and possibly snoop for contacts with our ever growing net.

>Spout Market was big and undoubtedly not limited on possibilities to seek out. You’d have to schedule a trip there…

See if we can find ourselves some experianced personnel, perhaps a sniper of our own is waiting to be found hilda deserved better

Also, thanks for the work you put in here tanq, I had a blast zooming through the archives, great job with the quest.

>>3966813
>What was the harm? Even if it wouldn’t be interesting, it would be good to be social with Kelwin. They served drinks there, anyways. It wasn’t a dirty brothel, after all.

>Rely on this new catalogue for procurement. It was easy and official, best to keep things clean.

>>3966813
>What was the harm? Even if it wouldn’t be interesting, it would be good to be social with Kelwin. They served drinks there, anyways. It wasn’t a dirty brothel, after all.
If only to keep his temper down until the supply dump raid.

>>Rely on this new catalogue for procurement. It was easy and official, best to keep things clean.
Being actively accosted by Gerovic is a good reason to stay nearby.
In the event we get flush with cash then maybe Spout Market would be a good spot for a replacement tonk or copter + pilot.

>Quest has snipers and upcoming raid
>My youtube recommendations show videos on sniper decoys and German raid tactics
Hmm.

>>3966813
>>What was the harm? Even if it wouldn’t be interesting, it would be good to be social with Kelwin. They served drinks there, anyways. It wasn’t a dirty brothel, after all.
>Spout Market was big and undoubtedly not limited on possibilities to seek out. You’d have to schedule a trip there…

>>3966813
>You’d pass. You already had exclusive access to ogling the most beautiful woman in the world.
>Rely on this new catalogue for procurement. It was easy and official, best to keep things clean.

Hey tanq mind listing some of the stuff and RP costs on the catalogue just as examples?

>>3967709
Nvm ignore this didn't see the part at the end? Anyway is it possible to get a top up of funds from the IO in the future?

This was meant to be sooner.

(1RP) Grunsen Model 1930 Automatic- A weapon revived by the Netillian arms manufacturer Grunsen for trials to decide a new military rifle; though the W.dB 30 won these trials for its ease of manufacturing, the Grunsen was a curiosity reborn and is in limited production. It is a semi-automatic rifle with an unusual twenty round drum magazine. A modification of a project that converted straight pull rifles to ad hoc machine guns, and the whole thing is quite heavy, although its stockiness gives it durability.

(1RP) Messer-Naukwerk "Elk" Autoloader-A commercial automatic hunting rifle that loads from a tube magazine, the Netillian Army bought a not-insignificant number of these weapons as part of military buildup. Although uncommon, they can be found with some units being used by NCOs or similar important individuals trusted with better armament.

(3RP) Kalsre Model 1932- A very new rifle from Rourmark weapons manufacturer Kalsre Firearms, with an automatic action that fires quite a powerful round, made for mountain warfare. Long, heavy, and generally regarded as cumbersome, but there is no better rifle for a marksman armed with it as its 8.5mm rifle magnum round (must be specially ordered) has exceptional power and ballistics, guaranteeing accuracy, especially if combined with the normally included 2x Magnification optical sight.

(1RP) Messer-Naukwerk Model 1925 Submachinegun-A slightly aged but reliable design, it has a relatively low fire rate for a submachinegun that makes it very controllable even when firing at full automatic. It uses a drum magazine that carries forty five rounds, or a stick magazine that carries twenty five. Strossvald's standard submachinegun, as a side note- Nauland purchases Naukland manufactured variants to fill the demand for weapons where its own industry is catching up.

(1RP) Mies & Peysson Double Barrel Hunting Shotgun- Hunting weapons, either modified or unmodified, not officially issued but finding their ways into armories nevertheless. Cut down versions are popularly used as assault weapons when there is a lack of submachineguns. Underequipped units also sometimes find themselves using such odd armament, usually out of being purposefully ignored or throttled for gear, rather than there being an actual lack of replacement weapons. Non-military usage by officials in recreation such as hunting, as well as a strange fondness for these weapons, has caused custom-made high quality examples of these guns to show up in the catalog.

(1RP) W.db 30 Pistol- A standard 7-round pistol, unexciting, blocky, functional. But officers need replacements all the time and standard replenishment doesn't replace sidearms, as those are supposed to be personally procured by officers. At least it's cheap.

(2RP) Mies & Peysson Model 2P- Mies & Peysson are known for artisan quality firearms, specially made for the customer, with a price point to match the material and labor of manufacturing. The engraving doesn't make the 2P shoot any better, but the 10-round magazine, long barrel, and removable stock certainly elevates it above state manufacture. Owning a 2P carries more than its share of prestige.

(3 RP) Mies & Peysson Model 5P- Everything one could love about the 2P- except this variant has a selector switch to make it fully automatic, with extended magazines included to take advantage of such. The 20 rounders will certainly be needed- without customized tooling, Mies & Peysson are proud to say that this snappy little piece fires at a rate of fifteen hundred rounds per minute!

(1RP) Kalsre Model 1888/20- Netilland's old standard sidearm, a six shot revolver, the need for weaponry for the expanding army has prompted use of the manufacturing tools to produce the newest version of the old gun. Perhaps it's because it wasn't designed by Waffenmeister der Berkesseburg (Netilland's state owned arms conglomerate) that it maintains some level of aesthetic- popular among some.

(1RP) MG 25N-A clone of the Kronerwerke MG24B used by the Grossreich of Czeiss still for its sturdiness and reliability, it was the standard light machine gun of Netilland until the start of the Armament Optimization Program. It shares the title of primary squad automatic weapon with the W.db 29 (The present standard LMG- most of your companies' machine gunner armaments, save the upgraded ones, which use the W.db 30). It loads from the top, and its thirty round magazine, while ensuring portability, means that its time firing is limited without a ready assistant.

(1RP) Kronerwerke Model 1914 KarRifle- A semiautomatic rifle with a five round magazine, first seeing service in the closing of the Emrean War before being improved upon and standardized near two decades after. While the Reich's main service rifle is not officially used outside of it, some independent gunsmiths have taken to copying it and producing it for interested parties. As the Reich is at the forefront of military technology, there are more of those than one might think.You got a paratrooper's jacket and now you want one's rifle? If you love the Kaiser that much why don't you marry them?Actually Maddalyn is distantly related to the Kaiser so technically...

As one can see, most of these only cost 1 RP- they're individual orders, after all. If one wanted more than one, it'd be more efficient to have it officially put in requisition.

>>3967763
>Anyway is it possible to get a top up of funds from the IO in the future?
The IO would probably rightfully point out that they already gave you plenty of money- they'd certainly be glad to transfer funds, if you told them where you're keeping the other half of their funds provided nearly three months ago.

Anyways with the Individual catalog summarized (others could be within with a bit more looking), I'll tally things up once I get back from going out to eat.

>>3968010
Nice variety of weapons though IMO this looks like a very inefficient way of spending RP. Would the Spout market allow us to buy stuff in bulk?

>>3968057
For money/favors/trading, yes. Smugglers black marketers and adventurous entrepreneurs have little use for the nebulous and abstract RP after all.

Probably should get the smg considering anyas too smoll for the rifles or shotgun

>>3968146
Agreed though I'd say wait until we finish doing this week's requisitions first before deciding on spending the remaining RP on individual weapons

I'm okay with waiting till the week plays out before deciding.
We should instead buy her something bulky and heavy, both to encourage her to build up her strength again and maybe convince her to rest her fucking arm for once or else it will never heal and she will never get her present.
Maybe also a little payback for forcing a wager on someone with actual brain damage

>>3966963
>>3967165
>>3967263
>>3967419
Go see the dancing girls with Kelwin. Not like those are the only things in a Cabaret performance, but they know their audience well enough for there to be a certain focus.

>>3967689
No thanks, "bro."

>>3966963
>>3967419
Go a traveling for groceries.

>>3967165
>>3967263
>>3967689
Keep to the little book for now.

Writing!

“…Sure…” you absentmindedly agreed while flipping through the catalog. Once upon a time you might have known all of these, but at least this was the slightest bit of a memory refresher. You considered arranging a trip back down to the Sprout Market, but at this moment in time, you didn’t see much of a need. You’d keep the option open.

“Huh? You’ll come?” Kelwin blinked in surprise, then smiled slightly in relief. “Oh, good. Great. Ha. Should I ask Captain Edelschwert as well?”

“…Couldn’t hurt…” you seriously doubted Edelschwert was the type to go to a cabaret show, but it wasn’t like he could play at offense, not anymore at least. “…I’m going back to camp now. I suppose I’ll see you in the evening..?”

“Mm. Yeah. I’ll stay out here a bit longer with these guys. Will you be fine going back?”

“…Yes…” you saluted Kelwin, and after he returned such, you turned back to head to headquarters again.

-----

Upon returning to the camp with your men, catching the last bit of a (apparently “cruddy”) romance movie, you found that Anya was up from her brief nap, and once again dressed in uniform, with her arm back in a sling where it belonged.

“…Hey.” You tossed the jerky package towards her. The side her wounded arm was on. She watched it helplessly as it sailed just past her and onto the ground.

“Dick.” Anya spat as she looked at the package on the ground, then bent down to pick it up. That handprint’s still there, for God’s sake. “You know, if this wasn’t bacon, you’d be picking my boot out of your ass right now.”

“…You’re welcome…” you muttered. “You looked like you needed a pick me up…”

Anya frowned, stared at the jerky more. “…Fine. Thanks. I’m on edge. Almost died last night.”

“You what?” you nearly choked.

“Calm down, I’m fine. I went to bother the New Friendly Locals about things and a couple of snipers found me. I was disguised as just some villager, so they didn’t shoot me, I guess. I shot them instead. Didn’t get hurt, just, it…could have been real close. They absolutely had the drop on me. That hasn’t happened in…” Anya took a breath and tried to straighten out the distress that was trying to creep on her face and posture. Something you’d never seen before. “…Anyways. I’m fine. Stache told me you went to the railhead. You pick up a gun?”

“…Not yet…wanted to think more on what to get…”

“Doesn’t matter that much. Mmff. Shurprishe meh.” Anya tore open the wax paper package with her teeth as she was talking, and spit the torn off paper on the ground. “Anyways, don’t piss around much longer. The locals were thinking you forgot you ever met them.”

“…Noted. Hey.” You stopped Anya as she started to turn away, “Are you alright..?”

“I’m fine. Mrff.” Anya had tucked the jerky bag under her arm and was picking pieces out of it. “Thish ish preddy guhd.” She swallowed. “Really, I’m fine. Get back on task. I heard something weird was boiling up in the town. New Jorgenstohn. Ask the people in the big tent.”

You needed little further prompt to let Anya part ways after that. When you entered the command tent taking a swig from your flask, there were a few staff officers at the radio sets, one relaying reports to the others. Krause was listening attentively to a staff officer giving a report. You heard part of an explanation before you were noticed and acknowledged.

“-an election, if you can believe it. A lot of the Reismuhle people, and their mayor, aren’t liking how they’re being housed. There’s new construction, yeah, but a lot of it’s ending up being for new industry, and for scheduled colonists, rather than these townspeople. Ah, Coordinator.” The staff officer saluted, and Krause looked sidelong and saluted to.

“Lieutenant. There’s trouble in town, from the sound of it.”

“…Give me the short version.” you said as you screwed the cap back on your flask, despite predicting you’d need more of its nectar after you heard what this was about. “Is it Twaryians? Insurgents..?”

“Neither.” Krause said sharply, “Not as far as we’ve heard at least. Old fashioned civil unrest. Remember Reismuhle, and how the NLF insurgents burned their town down? We settled them in New Jorgenstohn, and the extra population means the good mayor there is absolutely flush with resources, buuut,” Krause waved a finger side to side, “It seems his priorities haven’t pleased their new neighbors. The former mayor of Reismuhle’s led his people to kick up a fuss about lack of quality housing and comforts in these colder times, and the threat Gerovic’s put up has stressed them more. The boys at the watch post at New Jorgenstohn’ve been sending updates over the cable we laid down. People are squaring off, seems like there might be a riot soon if the Reismuhle people don’t get what they want.”

“…And they want..?” you led on.

“An election.” The staff officer interjected.

You snorted involuntarily. “…The mayors are appointed by the party, aren’t they..?”

“Yeah, but,” the staff officer took the lead, “So was the mayor of Reismuhle. They’re both, technically, colonial authorities. The rule book’s pretty unclear on what happens in situations like this, where two towns join, so he’s saying that there should be a vote on who’s in charge of the combined towns.”

“No chance of a joint administration, hm.” Krause mused.

“Not from how they’re putting it.” The staff officer said.

Another staff officer came over from the radio. “Hey. New update. If we’re gonna do something, the outpost says we ought to do it soon. They said one of them came back from taking a shit and they saw guns being passed around where they thought they couldn’t be seen.”

Well. Shit.

>There was only one route to guarantee peace. Go over there and promise an election. Very soon.
>This had Gerovic’s stink all over it. You’d go over there with troops and quell the crowds. You certainly couldn’t have a change of administration with your current relationship with Mayor Gespie.
>This wasn’t your business. It seemed like a trap- if a little coup happened, what did you care? Better than being distracted from the real threat.
>Other?

>>3968821
>There was only one route to guarantee peace. Go over there and promise an election. Very soon.
Just to calm folks down and get them back in doors. This gives us time to either rig the vote, arrest one of the candidates or better corral troublemakers when they aren't all ready to make a move.
Honestly it sounds like these people have too much time on their hands with a war about to blow up on their doorsteps.
Then:
>Other?
Talk to both Mayors. See the rabble-rouser to understand him and see if he is amenable and then Mayor Gespie to figure out what he is willing to pay to make this problem go away and if he is in fact compromised by the Twaryians.

Just because he's being friendly with us doesn't mean he stopped dealing with them. And maybe Gerovic.

>>3968820
>Shurprishe meh
Let's get her a machinegun. Either she gets trolled to hell and back, or gets good with it and becomes even more badass. It's win-win.

>>3968821
>Station half a platoon in/near New Jorgenston for a bogus reason, to act as a deterrence. GIve them all our tear gas casters.
>Meet the mayor of Reismuhle. Find out what he wants and what he's willing to do, see if he's being manipulated and if we can actually have more use from him than from Gespie. Defer the decision until then.

>>3968821
>>This had Gerovic’s stink all over it. You’d go over there with troops and quell the crowds. You certainly couldn’t have a change of administration with your current relationship with Mayor Gespie.
The Party is in charge of electing mayors so they'll decide who rules the town. In the meantime the townspeople had better be nice and patient, or else.

>>3968821
>>This had Gerovic’s stink all over it. You’d go over there with troops and quell the crowds. You certainly couldn’t have a change of administration with your current relationship with Mayor Gespie.
Get the troops to go around confiscating weapons; meanwhile arrange a meeting with both mayors to try to defuse the situation.

>>3968821
>>This had Gerovic’s stink all over it. You’d go over there with troops and quell the crowds. You certainly couldn’t have a change of administration with your current relationship with Mayor Gespie.
Who's in charge of colonial affairs in the area? Is there like a Netillian ministry/Party representative in Kamiensty we can talk to?

>>3968821
>This had Gerovic’s stink all over it. You’d go over there with troops and quell the crowds. You certainly couldn’t have a change of administration with your current relationship with Mayor Gespie.
No reason not to flex on dumb democratists when you're in a totalitarian country and have tanks on hand

>>3968878
I agree on getting her the machine gun. Go full Metal Slug or go home.

>>3968871
Cool things down with an arbitration statement- then go and meet with the two opposing parties.

>>3968878
Take preventative measures, utilizing less lethal chemical means, and then feel things out with the mayor with no town.

>>3968985
>>3969091
>>3969111
>>3969151
Send in the troops. This is a military government in charge, after all.

>>3968878
>>3969151
Ill Tempered Females Harbor Great Fondness for Heavy Weaponry

Writing,

>>3969111
>Who's in charge of colonial affairs in the area? Is there like a Netillian ministry/Party representative in Kamiensty we can talk to?

Not in Kamienisty, no. The Colonial Ministry is headquartered in Perlowieza, and there's not much in the way of branches outward, colonial towns being let on a rather loose leash. Suffice it to say, an official declaration on the matter wouldn't be quick even without the requisite red tape.

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You should get Anya a machine gun. Something big, heavy, and mean, that makes her look small next to it.

“Lieutenant?” Krause prompted you.

“…Sorry. Yes. No, we’re going over there…ready the troops, have the munitions caster team on standby with their tear gas shells…we’ll disarm anybody found with a weapon if we need to break it up ourselves, and I’ll meet with the mayors. The situation won’t escalate if I can help it…”

“You heard him,” Krause pointed to the staff officer he had been speaking with before, “Get the word out. Deployment orders to follow. Get the runners moving.” Then, to the other who had approached, “What is the ground like? The Coordinator’ll need a good picture to best plan for what little time we have.”

“The outpost didn’t say much about that. Autogyros’d be good for that, but, one’s not in the air right now…this sort of thing’s not expected to happen in colonial towns, after all. But…heard them saying that the Reismuhle people weren’t spreading out much. Yet. Maybe they’re thinking if they just mass up near the Mayor’s house and pack the road, they could pressure him into folding quick.”

“A coup de main, rather than holding important assets hostage.” Krause said.

“…A coup de main..?”

“R-Richter, please,” Krause stammered nervously, “They’ve decided to hit directly at the top, their main objective, being to force a change in administration. It seems they’re unprepared to fight a long fight, if they want to make a fight at all…which means they’re dispositioned to want to be quick, but they’re at least all in one place.”

“…How many of them are there..?” you asked.

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“Considering plenty of people from Reismuhle’s turned out, plus some others?” the staff officer answered, “About two hundred, two hundred fifty, maybe. About half their number standing up to face them.”

“…Some others..?” you raised an eyebrow. This mischief already had Gerovic’s stink all over it, but if there were unfamiliar people…

“Wasn’t clear. Rumors from the townspeople.” The staff officer said dismissively. “It’s not all of the other town’s people is all.”

“I’d expect the Twaryians to take advantage of this,” Krause warned, “Even if they didn’t instigate it in the first place. I’ll have the tanks warmed up on your word.”

>Deploy your selection of your forces.
>Also, state vehicles to deploy.

As for action-

>Set up on the outskirts. Don’t make any provocative moves, and prepare for a surprise enemy raid. Maybe you proposing talks alone might dispel tension while your troops could ready themselves for a greater threat..
>Send the troops in immediately and directly to cordon off and disarm the crowds. There won’t be any risk of escalation if you could help it. (Will likely require a certain number of troops, depending on if you show favoritism or now- mention this as well, if you want to simplify things by taking a side.)
>March up with all of your selected troops and announce a state of martial law- all will disperse and return home immediately or be arrested for rioting. Anybody remaining will be the first targets of a tear gas barrage.
>Other? (Always encouraged to have your own plan, after all, for any intricacy.)

>>3969981
>Deploy 3rd Platoon plus the 1st Platoon's munition caster team. Have them wear the stormtrooper gear for extra intimidatingness.
>Leave the tanks at the HQ. Ready T-16, X-51and M28 in case Gerovic tries anything.
>Take a flare pistol along and establish signals to call for help

>Set up on the outskirts. Don’t make any provocative moves, and prepare for a surprise enemy raid. Maybe you proposing talks alone might dispel tension while your troops could ready themselves for a greater threat.

>>3969981
>Deploy your selection of your forces.
2nd and 3rd Platoons.
For tanks, get the Hogs tank, X-51 and X-52 warmed up but don't send them out yet; don't waste fuel unless Twaryian forces really show up.
Also tell Kelwin to get his ass back here; he wants to be more involved in leading, here's his chance.

>Set up on the outskirts. Don’t make any provocative moves, and prepare for a surprise enemy raid. Maybe you proposing talks alone might dispel tension while your troops could ready themselves for a greater threat..
Basically acknowledge their concerns and that we'll be meeting with the mayors to resolve things. Also there may be Twaryians about so maybe suggest there are other things to worry about right now.

>>3970027
>>3970047
Supporting a mix of both. Think we should bring more guys because that's a pretty big mob we're facing. For tanks just make sure they're on standby at HQ and be ready for any signal from us or the outpost in town.

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Hey tanq I don't know if you've given us these before or if you even have though of it but I'm autistic so I'm interested in seeing the rough populations of the countries, and maybe some casualty numbers for the recent wars Strossvald has undertaken? pls and ty

>>3970047 sounds good
With all the insurgents around I'd assume most of the townspeople have guns? What kind of civilian arms do colonists have access to?

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>>3970139
>Hey tanq I don't know if you've given us these before or if you even have though of it but I'm autistic so I'm interested in seeing the rough populations of the countries, and maybe some casualty numbers for the recent wars Strossvald has undertaken?
The latter isn't really something I've thought upon overly much. The wars are punchy and small scale in general for them, though and large scale capture and occupation of territory is rare, so casualties rarely exceed ten thousand or so.

As for the former, for rough estimates-

Archduchy of Strossvald- 35 Million
Valsten- 16 Million
East Valsten- 8 Million (Counting all of the provinces would have a far higher number, perhaps in the six digits even but the south is cut off by a maelstrom)
Sosaldt- No Census Data (What did you expect?)
Netilland (Pre-Ellowian Occupation)- 30 Million
Ellowie (Pre-Occupation)- 21 Million
Twaryi- No Reports, speculated to be roughly 18 Million, not counting any recent Caelussian "aid" or immigration.
Grossreich of Czeiss, and constituents- 72 Million

Plus map for reminder. It might be noted that certain powers here could crush others quite handily- local politics would make this a poor idea, as there is a sort of general "tit for tat" where if one country gets too big- Sosalia as a whole may get alarmed and dogpile the "imperial pretender." Strossvald already has a bad enough reputation for that, and Ellowie's fall is a general shock in politics for the same reason.

>>3970162
>With all the insurgents around I'd assume most of the townspeople have guns? What kind of civilian arms do colonists have access to?
Non-party members cannot legally own weapons according to Netillian law, and most colonials do not own weapons- you're supposed to be the ones defending them, after all, according to the Military Council's preferences. An armed populace able to resist the army would be problematic for them, naturally. It's normally impossible to enforce such things on the frontier or rural areas practically speaking, but the colonial towns allow strict inspection of what is taken along.
That said, pistols for self defense aren't unheard of, neither are hunting rifles or shotguns, but they're not particularly common, and usually in the hands of the local town watchmen/volunteers.

Going to party for evening, update when I get back, perhaps.

>>3970682
Of course it should also be noted that the Archduchy is broken up into its own "territories," or perhaps duchies- so much of its strength is based on them contributing and agreeing.
For a few more,
Emre- 50 million
Naukland- 40 million
Caelussian Federation- 200+ million

>>3970737
Speaking of populations how big is that area of Plisseau that the Archduchy seeks to have join?

>>3970770
I can't mark it at the moment, but it's the territory of several city states- it would add about another two million or so to the count.

>>3970682
>>3970737
thank you, autism sated.

>>3970682
Hey tanq for Ellowie whats the population split between the Netillian and Twaryian zones of occupation?

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>When I get back
>Late next day
Bleh.

>>3970047
>>3970162
2nd and 3rd Platoons, warm up 50s and m/28, send for Kelwin.

>>3970027
3rd Platoon with MC team, wear stormtrooper gear. Get T-16, 51, and Hog ready. Establish signals in case of loss of wireless/wired communication.

>>3970069
Mix of both.

So, to condense, I suppose:

2nd and 3rd Platoons are deployed. 3rd platoon uses stormtrooper gear and has the munitions caster team ready to fire poo gas. Ready the X-51, X-52, and M/28-31. Establish flare signals, call Kelwin, set up outside the town and try not to provoke anything, mention plan to propose talks and also mention a risk of Twaryian attack so please keep calm.

Alright then, getting on this.

>>3972189
More of the population resided in the north of Ellowie- there's a rough 5/3 split of the former population between Netillian and Twaryian held territory, not counting factors such as refugees or the like migrating.

Also, as an addendum on >>3970770 , the territory would be the pictured slice. Innocuous enough, yes, but Pliessau's allegiances have primarily been among its own city states. It wouldn't be unusual for the rest of the pseudo-union to be alarmed by this development.
>On the spot retcon

“…The er…X-51?” you paused and recalled the names, thankfully. “X-52, and…the Iron Hog’s tank. Have them ready to move just in case…otherwise, we’ll go out with 2nd and 3rd platoons…3rd platoon as the main element…with the Stormtrooper gear and the support of the munitions caster team. We’ll set up outside the town…and just be ready for if things escalate. I’ll meet with both the mayors…and see if we can’t work something out…”

“Are you going to be up for that?” Krause asked warily, considering your speech pattern.

“…It’s just talking…I’ll leave any fighting to the unit commanders, and…” you thought to make Krause the operations officer, but had a brainwave. “Actually, send somebody to pick up Captain Kelwin from Kamienisty…if he hasn’t come back yet. He’ll be in charge. It’ll be a good opportunity…”

“Good job, Richter, you didn’t suggest anything unreasonable.” Krause patted you on the shoulder, “Maybe you’re not as bad off as you thought.”

“…I didn’t get stupider…” you muttered bitterly. “…Just get it done…”

Krause became your voice and will as he went about with the energy you wished you could have surge forth when the situation called for it. At least things were being carried out.

-----

A quick briefing with Lieutenant Kristoph and 2nd platoon’s acting commander Sergeant Cohlmar (Lieutenant Abetz wasn’t due out of the hospital for his wounds for another week at least) established basic flare signals in case of emergency, and the same signals were given to the outpost at New Jorgenstohn, and to Krause, who would be commanding the tanks in case of emergency. Anya made a fuss over being included, but she was forcibly barred from participating. The bags under her eyes and her arm in a sling made it difficult for her to convince anybody that Lieutenant Wielzci’s replacement of her wasn’t justified. Unable to find support, she had returned to her tent to “rest,” though her tone told you she had really meant “sulk.”

You wouldn’t be in a tank for this one, either. Your role in this would be a strictly non-combat one, as you accompanied Lieutenant Kristoph’s command team.
“Fuck marching in this heavy shit,” you heard an infantryman mutter from behind. “With the machine gun, too. Load me any heavier and I’ll take a step on solid rock and sink up to my fucking dick.”

“I’ll take the machine gun if it’ll stop your bitching,” another soldier said, “Maybe you wouldn’t sink if you weren’t a fat-body.”

“Cheerful, ain’t they, Coordinator?” Kristoph said to you. “You missed the train you called in, by the way. There were some good girls in there, I should know. I never thought I’d lose my virginity like I did, wow.”

“…I think I’ll survive…” you cut off that route of conversation. “Seems you’ve been healthy after that, at least…”

“It’s surprising how much stress it relieves,” Kristoph agreed, “If I knew I’d have done it sooner. But, yeah, now the platoon’s all mixed up. The guys who’ve been here since the start, the guys who all experienced that shit storm that was UGZ-07 together, the guys newer than that…I’m getting to where I’m proud of my history, funny as that sounds, hey?”

“…I suppose.” Kristoph was only about…one or two months behind you, in terms of how long you’d been in your respective armies? “…Why did you sign on, anyways..?”

“…Don’t go around telling everybody this,” Kristoph tried to speak quietly, “But I’ve got family in trouble with the Party. My pop’s in a camp for saying the wrong things to the wrong people. If I’m on good behavior, he’ll be treated leniently.”

“…I see…”

“What about you?” Kristoph was awfully talkative on the march, “You’ve got a fancy sounding name, so you’re one of those nobles, aren’t you? I’m guessing you didn’t sign up to pay the bills. So what was your deal? Buddies? Family tradition? Had to get out of the house and the army doesn’t ask questions? Is it keeping you in or has the shine worn off?”

What motivated you? What kept you in? It was something you always thought about but hadn’t really ever…told many people, especially considering recent events…and how you were able to think about them.

>Your family, you were of a warrior line, after all, regardless of whom your master was.
>Your country, as if you did not do your utmost to serve the Archduchy, could you call yourself a Von Tracht?
>You never considered doing anything else, really. And now you’re here. It hasn’t been terrible.
>None of his business. You weren't friends. Keep focused on the mission, officer.
>Other? (No you can’t say “all of the above”, as “other” you must have a primary one)

>>3972966
>>Your country, as if you did not do your utmost to serve the Archduchy, could you call yourself a Von Tracht?

>>3972966
>>Your family, you were of a warrior line, after all, regardless of whom your master was.

>>3972966
>>Your country, as if you did not do your utmost to serve the Archduchy, could you call yourself a Von Tracht?

It was where his ancestor was ennobled, and if Richter has been anything it has been keeping to his family traditions.

>>3972966
>I love tanks

>>3972966
>>Your country, as if you did not do your utmost to serve the Archduchy, could you call yourself a Von Tracht?

>>3972966
>>Your family, you were of a warrior line, after all, regardless of whom your master was.

>>3972966
>Your family, you were of a warrior line, after all, regardless of whom your master was.

>>3972998
This

>>3972971
>>3972998
>>3973007
>>3973244
The Archduchy was whom raised your family, and to abandon them would be to abandon duty.

>>3972986
>>3973069
>>3973194
Your ancestors made you, and you must needs continue their will.

>>3973001
Look, I like cool machines with guns and armor plate, and this was the only job where you're allowed to use them. I am a simple man with simple aspirations, but I can at least attain them.

Alrighty then. Writing.

It wasn’t the easiest question to have a certain answer for. Yes, you family, your warrior ancestry, was a factor, but your family had not always been noble, recognized for their valor. The Archduchy was to be owed for that- so would you sully your family’s name by not repaying he who glorified them? Certainly not. Even if…some things had happened to you that made you question just what you were loyal to. Such doubts were not for the Archduchy that you served, however.

“…I wished to serve the Archduke, that ennobled my family,” you summed up without the long preamble, “…I am only fancily named because of the Archduchy, so it is only right that I repay the favor…as any of my honored family would in my place…”

“Huh, I see.” Lieutenant Kristoph nodded with a blank look that said that perhaps he hadn’t expected something so…high minded? “Equivalent exchange and all. So, hey, what do you think of the Kingdom of Baou?”

Huh? “It’s…a kingdom?” You didn’t remember if you knew much about that place, but you’d seen it on a map.

Kristoph looked helplessly confused next. “Netilland and Strossvald have fought wars over it, Coordinator, surely you know?”

“…I’ve always kept my eye to the west…” you covered for yourself.

“Well, see,” Kristoph began to lay out excitedly, “Baou’s territory rightfully belongs to Netilland, but your Archduchy props up this rebel state with a false noble calling himself king. I think you should find out more about it, because the history of it all’s really screwed up if you ask me.”

“…I’m sure there’s many opinions on it,” you were preemptively tired at the hint of what sort of conversation this might be, not to mention that one could argue exactly the same thing was taking place in Netilland’s occupied Ellowian territory. “I don’t know enough to say…”

“Well, I’ll tell you, though there’s a lot I’ll probably not get to, so…”

You wondered what you had done to deserve this.

-----

Lieutenant Kristoph had rambled to you the rest of the march about how Baou’s existence was the result of a conspiracy of Imperial sympathizers doing it as vengeance against Netilland’s origin of a coalition of former Imperial provinces dissatisfied with their overlord and “going native.” Much of it was a blue, and you hadn’t been listening particularly hard, but most of it sounded like outright propaganda. A Reich-supporting cabal having such influence in the Archduchy’s policies seemed like utter silliness.

Yet weren’t such exactly what you had encountered the first time you’d had shots fired in anger against you?

Perhaps, but the rant delivered to you had precious little in anything that sounded like firm evidence and more a chain of coincidences that lined up with a conspiracy against Netilland, which was of course an Imperial plot. Yes, yes, very fascinating. A sigh of relief heavy as lead was forced out as the town was arrived upon, and the platoons took up their forward positions. The outpost people, from what you could see through binoculars a good fifty meters away, were very relieved that the situation hadn’t collapsed into chaos before you arrived.

Not that things looked good. A few hundred people were lined up, throwing insults at one another. A few bottles and stones were exchanged, which thankfully didn’t provoke further escalation, especially as you worriedly noticed that none of the weapons being described as distributed were in the front lines, so they were assuredly being kept back, rather than being displayed up front. It would be too fortunate if the reports were mistaken, or if they were being kept back just in case. These protests has started for a reason, and you doubted that, once well armed, the other side would simply back down. You would have to calm things down between the leaders if this already ugly situation wasn’t to get uglier.

They were really shouting quite loudly. You hadn’t tried overly hard to practice speaking over others, let alone shouting, since the conditioning had been removed. Best not to experiment with that now. Instead, you trusted Lieutenant Kristoph, armed with a megaphone, to deliver what needed to be said, both of you escorted by troopers in their heavy assault gear, frames broadened by steel plate shrouded with cloth that did not hide its sturdiness.

“Settle down, everyone!” Kristoph shouted once you both drew close. That got the crowds’ attention, but they absolutely did not settle down. A series of challenges and demands near inaudible when mixed together assailed you, and Kristoph had to speak over it all. “Hey! Settle down I said! We’re with the 5th Combined Light Infantry, first company, commanded by Captain Kelwin and advised by Coordinator Von Tracht, here. I’m Lieutenant Kristoph, and we’re here to…Hey!” That sharp interjection came out as a rock soared out and hit the snow in front of him, “We’re here to make sure the elections you want happen! Isn’t that what you want!?”

Abject silence dropped suddenly, shouting dying down as murmurs conveyed the announcement further. Both groups stared with different degrees of not believing what they were hearing. Some quiet in which you could relay further instructions to Kristoph.

“Yeah, you heard right!” Kristoph shouted with amplified voice, “We can settle this good and peacefully! We just need both of your mayors to meet up with the Coordinator here, and we’ll talk things out, alright? So if we could get Mayor…Mayor whoever he is of Reismuhle, up here, that’d be swell.”

“No way!” came an immediately reply from a young man a few heads deep in the Reismuhle crowd, “Mr. Rosenthal isn’t gonna come! You’re just gonna grab him and be on your way! We won’t fall for that!”

“Yeah!” another person shouted, “We already lost all we had! You were supposed to protect us, and you failed! We were promised a new life of prosperity and all we’ve gotten is having everything go up in smoke, before being pushed around!”

“We won’t be pushed around anymore!”

From the New Jorgenstohn crowd, a reply. “Oh, shut the hell up! This is our town! You can’t mooch off our hard work and complain!”

“You can piss off if you don’t like it here!”

Kristoph took the initiative. “Shut up! Everybody shut the fuck up! Judge Above!” He gave you a look like he needed more answers than he figured he needed.

>If they were afraid of mischief, you could see one at a time. It wasn’t too much trouble. As long as the crowds would back away from each other a bit.
>You’d provide an escort, and allow the mayor of Reismuhle to bring his own escort if he wished, to meet Mayor Gespie in his home. No untoward mischief would happen under your watch.
>If that was the way they thought it would be, you’d take Mayor Gespie to Mr. Rosenthal. Surely that was acceptable?
>You stated your terms, and you weren’t about to deviate from them. Either they complied, or you send in the troops to break this up. Last chance.
>Other?

>>3973387
>>If they were afraid of mischief, you could see one at a time. It wasn’t too much trouble. As long as the crowds would back away from each other a bit.
But also
>Either they complied, or you send in the troops to break this up. Last chance.

They've made their point but this public disorder must stop immediately. No elections until this breaks up.

Let's see if this guy is amenable to diplomacy.
But away from the crowd at least. They will only reinforce his confidence that he has a chance and he won't back down in front of them.

If they really don't back down then we're cracking down.
There's Twaryians out there you know.

>>3973387
>If that was the way they thought it would be, you’d take Mayor Gespie to Mr. Rosenthal. Surely that was acceptable?
It would be most efficient to talk to them at the same time. This seems more likely to work than arranging an escort, and doesn't make it look like we're favoring Gespie.

>>3973387
>>Other
Find some place in town that can serve as neutral ground between both sides and have the meeting with both mayors there. Meanwhile continue to demand that the mobs disperse or the gas grenades start flying.

>>3973387
>If they were afraid of mischief, you could see one at a time. It wasn’t too much trouble. As long as the crowds would back away from each other a bit.

>>3973398
Supporting

>>3973387
>>If they were afraid of mischief, you could see one at a time. It wasn’t too much trouble. As long as the crowds would back away from each other a bit.
Need to meet with both jointly after that though

Sorry I've been gone all day.

>>3973398
>>3973881
>>3973434
>>3974062
Go and see both officials- but they need to meet each other after this, and they both need to back down from a position of violence- or there's no deal.

>>3973401
Provide an escort, if he'd like. An escort on top of his escort even. No, the crowds don't get to stay.

>>3973405
Arrange a meeting elsewhere on neutral ground. You still don't get to sit here and line up on each other.

Meeting one at a time, then. But also, clear out or be cleared out, riff raff.

Writing.

You conveyed your instructions to Kristoph quietly, and he shouted them out promptly.

“The coordinator’ll see ‘em one at a time, if you’re afraid of us bein’ up to any mischief!” he called out, “But you all have to stand down and clear out! Or else we’ll have to break you up for you!”

“Fuck you!”

“We aren’t going anywhere!”

Kristoph gave you a helpless look. “…that it, then?”

“…Please. No.” you sighed, “We can flex the smallest amount. Tell them that…if they get too rowdy, you’ll take that as immediate justification…to pacify them. I trust you’ll be able to tell if such happens…”

“’Course.” Kristoph nodded confidently, before raising the megaphone again. “Fine! You can both stand there and stare at each other, but no throwing shit, no attacking each other, nothing! Or we shoot tear gas in and beat the hell out of everybody who doesn’t run right back home! Got it!?” Objections were muttered and inaudible if present. “Good!”

The first person you went to see was this Mr. Rosenthal- escorted by three armored troopers of 3rd platoon, and led by one of Reismuhle’s protestors.

“Fuckin assholes.” One of 3rd platoon’s escort said lowly as you were let along, “Don’t they know that we’ve got it hard enough without having to deal with this bullshit? They’ll be sorry once the Twaryians mortar their shitty protest. Or we’ll make them sorry when we get blasted while babysitting them.”

You ended up meeting with Rosenthal in a shack with a stove in the center, where more than a few children were huddled near the glowing oven. In one corner was the presumed mayor, as well as seven guards to match your three, all holding rifles that…weren’t of Netillian make, certainly. Rosenthal himself was a short, stocky man, though not heavyset like Gespie, thick bearded and mustached with short cropped hair, with wrinkles that put him in his early forties at best, though his dark hair was streaked with grey.

“Coordinator Von Tracht. Hello.” The former mayor said, his voice scratchy and low toned. “I am Edhard Rosenthal, mayor of the town once called Reismuhle…before it was razed by Ellowian insurgents and pillaged by your men. Perhaps you can understand why my people harbor some ill feelings for you.”

“…I came here to talk about what you wanted…not past grievances, whether or not they’re justified…” you started testily. “You’ve made your point with this disturbance…so you have my attention. After you give your piece, I’ll get Mayor Gespie’s story…then we can all meet together and figure this out. I’ve already promised the people their election…but it seems they won’t stand down to have it without your go ahead…”

“Quite.” Rosenthal put his hands together in his lap and crossed his legs, very relaxed, considering the situation. “Frankly, I have reason to doubt the results of any election, even without the slightly larger numbers of New Jorgenstohn’s natives, afraid to stand against their fellows as they are. Gespie is a crafty and duplicitous man. He makes promises to tide us over and gives us air, he uses resources mean to care for us to line his pockets. It makes desperate men, Coordinator. Desperate enough to be tempted to force their way.” He put a hand on the rifle of one of the guards standing by him.

“…The Twaryians are just over the border,” you pointed out with a dour frown, “Forcing your way could result in your destruction once again if the Twaryians saw an advantage they could take advantage of.”

“Then we had best resolve this quickly, shouldn’t we.” Rosenthal cleared his throat. “Simply put, I think we can help each other a lot. I want you to place me in Gespie’s current position, and…do what you like with him after. Wouldn’t I be even more in your hand than he is now in that case? After all, you removed him, so you could remove me- I’d be forced to comply with whatever demands you have. My people are decently armed in preparation for this, and they could certainly prove self-sufficient…and I’m sure any other accommodations could be easily met.”

“…Terribly generous of you…”

“I would do a much better service to Gespie’s people as well as mine in his place, and whatever is demanded would probably be a fair trade.” Rosenthal stated coolly and confidently.

“Speakin’ of decently armed,” one of the Netillian soldiers with you piped up, “Where the hell did you get those guns? Those are Twaryian rifles.”

The guards looked suddenly concerned, but Rosenthal didn’t. “I wasn’t aware of who made the weapons, only that they were presented in our time of need. Maybe we could put you in touch with the benefactor.”

Wasn’t he making himself seem so reasonable. “…and if I decide to refuse your offer..?”

Rosenthal blinked at you, looked at his guards, his guards looked back at him, then all put their eyes upon you and your smaller escort again. “I think you are an intelligent enough man to put yourself in my place, aren’t you?”


>I suppose I’m saying no and staying here until you’re convinced, then. Sorry. I’ll forget you threatened me if you let me go, though.
>Rosenthal was clearly too dangerous…and too confident. You and your escort could take on his guards and take him into custody, couldn’t you? They were just an untrained mob…
>I’d like to specify a few things…(What?)
>Even without the veiled threat, you were of the mind to accept this. Tell Rosenthal that you’ve found a new business partner in him.
>Other?

>>3975051
How many guys do we have with us right now?

>>3975057
Three. Armored, two with submachineguns, one with a rifle+bayonet.

>>3975051
>>3975059
>Other
Alright then pretend to accept his offer then rejoin Kristoph ASAP.

>>3975071
Supporting this.

>>3975051
"Presented" indeed. We may have just found our line to lure Gerovic in here.

>>I’d like to specify a few things…(What?)
Clarification on just how he obtained these weapons. And what he promised when he received them.

If it's nothing too outlandish / treasonable then I think we can work with him. It's not like Gespie has been that helpful beyond spare fuel. But we should absolutely wring Mayor Hamtaro dry of any resources before we replace him. Probably need to take him into "custody" during the election for his protection and then rig the vote to favor the new guy.

>Even without the veiled threat, you were of the mind to accept this. Tell Rosenthal that you’ve found a new business partner in him.

BUT!
>Other?
We should make it very clear to him that any further cooperation with his benefactor without our knowledge or consent will likely end very poorly. He may not be afraid of us but he has to know if he uses violence here against Netillian soldiers with Twaryian support the backlash will make the Kommissars come down HARD on this place. What happens to this town will make the UGZ look like a vacation center.

>>3975051
>"Do you know how Netillian army assaults a building, mayor? First, there's the assault element, decked in a bulletproof armor, like this <knock on the armor of the nearby escort>, and wielding submachineguns which don't even have to be aimed in close quarters. Then there's a support element, looking over the objective with a machinegun. And a security element, ready to ambush any reinforcements with another machinegun. The people chosen for this are well-trained, quick and decisive. A well-conducted operation sees even twice more numerous opposition completely decimated."
>"I came here for a reasonable discussion and I still intend to have it. I will consider your proposition - after meeting all involved parties"

He doesn't get to intimidate us into a decision. Make him (and mainly his guards) realize that he's going against overwhelming power.

>>3975108
I think even if we accept his proposition, we should make it clear we won't stand to be threatened.

>>3975129
>>3975131
If this was conditioned Richter, I'd say sure but as he is right now I'm not sure it'll come out properly at all.
Agreed that we shouldn't just let him force us into a decision, and that we should talk to Gespie as well to see what else he can offer us with his job on the line (again)

>>3975051
Hey tanq if you don't mind is it possible to get the answers to>>3975108 first. In case it makes people change their decisions?

>>3975163
Sure, I suppose, why not.
Just a moment.

“…Just how did you get these Twaryian weapons..?” you felt it necessary to ask, “Did you…promise anything for them..?”

“Why, no,” Rosenthal said with no hesitation, “They were delivered to us in the night and were uncalled for, but came anyways, presumably upon hearing of our plight. Did you think that payment for them by this mystery benefactor would be to use them to cause chaos? No, I believe they sent them along…just to see what would happen.”

There was a good chance Rosenthal was lying- no matter what his face seemed to say. He could simply be very good at it, and the story, while certainly in character for Gerovic’s odd tactics, seemed too convenient in a way. Whether or not you jumped at the chance would be the dice you rolled for what you could gain, really. If you were to consider taking his offer.

>Vote still Open

>>3975179
Interesting.
Maybe Gerovic thinks that he can blackmail Rosenthal later with the knowledge and gain leverage. Or maybe he's just havin' a giggle to sow chaos. Or Rosie is lying, but I can't see how he'd hide his source for Twaryian weapons if they were used.
Either way it's the first connection we've gotten to the Gerovic and we need something to grab him.

Let's go see what Gespie is gonna say but I think we should agree here. (Truthfully or not to be determined.) Say we are gonna go grab the Mayor and setup a path for an "election"

On the bright side it sounds like his supporters aren't hardline Twaryian lovers so if he does double cross us we can probably alienate him from the township if push comes to shove.

>>3975051
>Other
Tell him we agree (we can decide later whether we will or not) and go talk to Gespie. Also go get a bigger escort

>>3975179
One more question as regards to the 'benefactor': so are they saying they've never been in contact with this party besides this 'gift' of weapons or have they ever had a physical meeting with a representative?

Alright, ttrpg session done, time to count up.

>>3975071
>>3975084
>>3975188
>>3975200
Pretend to say yes, and move along to Gespie.

>>3975129
Tell him to fuck off, or at least that you aren't somebody to be threatened.

>>3975108
And warn against further cooperation with "benefactors."

>>3976008
His tone seems to imply they've never actually met. Whether this is the truth or not another matter.

Anyways writing.

It was a tempting offer. Finally, a chance to grasp at the shadow that was Gerovic, a possibility, but on the other hand, it was too dangerous to simply agree too- and callous, perhaps. It wasn’t out of wanting to do any favors for Gespie, as he had been dealing with the Twaryians behind your back before, but he was at least on your side. There was also the matter that Rosenthal had the nerve to threaten you- something the timid Gespie would probably have never even thought of doing. You still had to go and visit with him, which meant agreeing with Rosenthal’s opinion that he should be leader and that you’d support him- for now. No doubt he knew he couldn’t very well hold you hostage if he let you go, and that you could do exactly what you were doing now and just lie about being sure who to support- perhaps it was just a matter of people hearing a false promise, should it turn out that way?

You’d deal with that later. “…Very well…I’ll support your bid for office…” you led off, “…But I will not be intimidated.” You’d have given a spiel of how capable your Stormtroopers were, but…you honestly didn’t remember how they operated. “I would have my team here explain why…but I’d rather get this over with. I’m going to meet with the current mayor…and see if we can’t arrange this in a way where you still win…but with a fairer appearance. An election like you asked…and you were sure you would win, I’m sure…”

Rosenthal seemed neither happy nor disappointed. “Good. I’m glad that my argument was convincing. Though, as far as threats go, I’m sure that they are hardly impolite- just a statement of fact. A showing of my hand. Would you prefer me to be more secretive?” A question he didn’t press on. “I hope to be speaking with you again soon, Coordinator. As mayor.”

“Mm…” you nodded, and with a look around to your escorts, motioned that you were leaving.

One of the Netillians deigned to share his opinion aloud after you were far from the shack, heading back towards the Mayor’s house. “Gives me the fuckin’ creeps.”

-----

“What are you waiting for?” Gespie hissed at you after you were “welcomed” into his house, dressed in an evening robe and trousers, clearly caught outside of his best. “They’ll have me thrown out, at best! I thought I was doing right by my people, but they’re not to be found with these ingrates ready to beat down my door! My poor daughter, I’ve had to hide her-“

“Tea, for you and your guest,” Gespie’s pale blonde daughter, in a red cotton dress and knit shawl, slammed a tray down on the table near you and stomped off. For some reason, she didn’t like you.

“I…” Gespie gulped, and glanced meekly back at you, “I heard you went to meet with him. What did he promise? I can give more, I’ll guarantee it. I’ll outbid him. We had a good arrangement, didn’t we?” He stared at you, his round cheeks beginning to glisten with sweat. “Didn’t we?”

“Well-“

The Mayor didn’t even let you finish. “What do you want? I’ll give it. Money? Workers? I’ve already done so much, haven’t I?”

>Tell the mayor to calm down. His office is safe. It would be far better for the submissive Gespie to be here rather than crafty Rosenthal.
>Well, if he was offering…(Make your requests. Or demands.)
>Say you’ll see what you can do. But you’ve made your decision, and not in his favor.
>Other?

>>3976871
>"You did a lot for me, it's true, but now because of your greed I have to deal with a possibility of an armed rebellion in an already unstable time. You might be more trouble than you're worth, herr Gespie."
>"Still, as long as you promise to behave better in the future, I'll see what I can do"
>Underline that he'll be even more indebted to us now.
>And then we do absolutely nothing. The elections go on honestly, but the winner will think we helped him win.

I'd prefer to help Gespie, but I don't see a good way to do it.

>>3976871
>Well, if he was offering…(Make your requests. Or demands.)
Money would be nice especially if we intend to go to the Spout Market in the future.How about an increase in our fuel allowance as well if possible since the settlements expansion?
Also force him to build proper housing for the ex-Reismuhle inhabitants as well.If he wasn't so blantly greedy this situation wouldn't have escalated to this point in the first place.

IMO it's better to have someone that's pliable and dependent on us than a potential wild card. Rosenthal screams shady as hell and I wouldn't trust him not to continue doing stuff behind our backs even if we support his bid.

>Tell the mayor to calm down. His office is safe. It would be far better for the submissive Gespie to be here rather than crafty Rosenthal.

>>3976871
Start off with >>3976886
>"You did a lot for me, it's true, but now because of your greed I have to deal with a possibility of an armed rebellion in an already unstable time. You might be more trouble than you're worth, herr Gespie."
>"Still, as long as you promise to behave better in the future, I'll see what I can do"
Then follow up with the fact he owes us big time for this with >>3976887
Honestly if we can temper Gespie's greed it's not like he's a particularly incompetent mayor.
Also some questions to ask him
-Is he aware that Rosenthal's supporters have been arming themselves and how they have been getting them
-How's the commerical development of the settlement been going since our guys took the remaining equipment from the Reismuhle ruins.

>>3976886
You know what, this works. Rosenthal is a slippery fish but a possible opening to exploit Gerovic, but Gespie's resources would be mighty handy in the future.
Either/or really. And this way neither side can claim that things were rigged.
We have to absolutely insure that the process at least appears impartial to all sides.
And we gotta make it clear to all parties this election is OVER the moment violence breaks out. We string up anyone caught with weapons as a Twaryian infiltrator.

>>3976887
Also supporting >>3976886's idea for free and fair elections. Get our guys to do patrols in town up to election day and minimize any potential violence especially from Rosenthal's armed guys.
Given as Rosenthal said New Jorgenstohn has slightly more people Gespie should be able to win even without any rigging.
Though simultaneously I think we should still get our guys to prepare for violence breaking out because I don't think Rosenthal will settle for anything less than himself in the mayor's chair.

>>3976895
>>3976903
I'd like to underscore that we want the elections winner to think we have rigged it.

>>3976908
Our guys should be in charge of counting the ballots anyway considering we're to closest thing to a 'neutral party' here.

>>3976886
>>3976893
>>3976903
>>3976895
Good luck in the election, fatty. I'll totally rig it.
Prepare to execute (and for the consequences of) an election that actually was not hacked by Twaryians. Or by Von Trachts.

>>3976887
And get a reward for your help.

>>3976888
State your preference and stick with it.

Writing.

“…You have done a lot for me, it’s true…” you began with, making up your mind to support…whomever the Judge felt was more deserving. Both mayors had their perks, after all. “But you’ve been too greedy…I might have to deal with the possibility of an armed rebellion in an already unstable time. Some people might think, because of that, you’re more trouble than you’re worth, herr Gespie…” Another long swig from your flask as Gespie’s sweating intensified. “…Still. If your behave better in the future so that this doesn’t happen again…there will be a vote on mayorship, anything else is out of the question now, but…I’ll see what I can do…”

Gespie swallowed loudly again. “I…you’re sure there’s naught you want in return?”

Ha. “…Of course I’d like to be compensated, in the event of your victory…I’d certainly appreciate more monetary support, an effort to increase the fuel we’re given each week…and certainly the construction of proper housing for your new citizens. If you had been more astute about that…this would have never happened, and I’m sure we don’t want this to happen again…”

“Of course, of course!” Gespie tried to smile and chortle, pretending badly to be pleased and unconcerned.

“I do have a couple questions before I help in a subtle and fair appearing way, though…” you hoped Gespie would have the answers to this, “…You are aware that Rosenthal’s supporters have been arming themselves..?”

“How could I not be? Such is why I have kept inside!”

Indeed. Gespie was nothing if not cautious. “…Do you know how they got those weapons..?”

“Where else could they get them but from the Twaryians?” Gespie near demanded of you, “Even if the insurgents were interested in giving us arms, and they’re absolutely not, they couldn’t with how thoroughly they’ve been beaten away from this region, could they? What would any Netillians have to gain from sowing this sort of discord among their own people? The Twaryians have been taking every opportunity to disrupt you, why wouldn’t they be behind this as well? Of course I don’t know how precisely they got them, but the Twaryians are capable enough smugglers. They utilize Ellowians where one of their own cannot blend in, and you should know their aptitude at sniffing out rat trails…”

Well, yes, it was obvious put that way, but you were more interested in precisely how…oh, whatever.

“…I am also curious as to how New Jorgenstohn’s economy has been doing? What with your increased supply, the equipment being stripped from Reismuhle, the like…” you asked after.

“Ah…” Gespie loosened, and a smug look appeared on his round face. He didn’t need to hide his confidence there. “Of course, the farmers say that with snow down and coming down, it’s too late to plant any Wintergrain or similarly sturdy crops…though that would be planted in autumn ideally, I digress. Still, the facilities have been prepared, and the land cleared, so when the thaw comes, things will be in order. Future productivity drives speculation, after all.”

If you were a speculator you’d not want to be on land soon to be contested, but perhaps Gespie’s optimism wasn’t completely implausible, from whatever place he was viewing.

“The logging coming in has increased, too. One of my investments is building a second mill, with all the needed work openings, materials, the logistics for it…a veritable doubling of our output if not more, not that Rosenthal and his ilk see what sacrificing some comfort for the sake of the long term could gain everybody here. With just the right amount of effort in the right areas, this town could grow as though we struck gold, but no, they’d rather have money for growth spent on elevating them to mere equivalency, a luxury…why, if the Twaryians were less militant, perhaps they might want to send their trees here, to buy lumber coming out. Imagine.”

The only thing you wanted to imagine was getting away from this gushing fountain of self-serving clairvoyance and calming the still bubbling cauldron Gespie had been so quick to forget was boiling over. “…Thank you.” You began the process of excusing yourself, “Now, I must be going. I’ve a job to do…”

-----

“Listen up!” Kristoph shouted out to the crowd through the megaphone once more, “We’ve met with both folks who want to be mayor, and we’ve worked out an agreement! A free and fair election! We’ll have a place set up to do it real soon, but listen! Any attempt to disrupt it, anybody tries to be violent, we cancel it and we start giving you tear gas and broken bones instead of a voting box! So either stack those guns you’ve got hidden and turn ‘em in, or keep them well the hell out of sight! Until then, both of you quit standing in rows ready to beat each other to a pulp, or we’ll beat both of you!”

To everybody’s relief, the opposing crowds steadily melted away, muttering and glancing back with cold stares, but apparently accepting that they’d pushed as far as they could expect to without backlash. In little time, tables were set up, each guarded and staffed by soldiers who felt no need to hold back their grumbling on being made to do this. The voting was simple- each voter would simply write the person’s name they wanted (or, for the ones who couldn’t read or write, an X or an O for Rosenthal or Gespie) and deposit it in a provided box.

You had absolutely no intention of interfering with the elections- much as that would make certain people proud, you felt no particular attachment to one “candidate” or the other. Gespie’s resources were helpful, yes, but Rosenthal had a valuable link to Gerovic, however incorporeal it might be. Gerovic was a larger goal than anything that happened to New Jorgenstohn, where Strossvald was concerned.

What the IO’s overall objectives were had never been shared with you, though what you had explicitly been told gave you a few clues. War between Netilland and Twaryi? At some point, otherwise why be vague about the amount of mischief you could cause? Not yet, however, because Gerovic’s tactics were problematic, and would escalate matters far too rapidly. Was it to allow Netilland time to grow into a stronger opponent against Twaryi? Or perhaps it had to do with a potential distraction to Strossvald’s north, with whatever was going on in Plisseau about a section of it holding a referendum to break away from the rest of the pseudo-state. You had forgotten most of what you knew about it, you were sure, but common sense told you that Strossvald’s expansion by taking a slice of territory under its wing couldn’t possibly be looked upon favorably by the northern city state unions.

“Coordinator,” Kristoph got your attention as votes were peacefully being submitted in the town center, “There might be a problem, that some of the troops’ve noticed…”

“…Twaryians..?” you began to tense up.

“No, nothing like that, though an eye’s being kept out, and we saw a few patrols fan out this way, so we can be sure, but, it’s the people. Not all of them are coming out to vote.”

“…Yes?”

“So, well, this Rosenthal might win, since people are scared to come out…or they don’t care. Who knows which. Everything’s fair and all and that’s nice,” No mention that you expected both sides to predict you’d rigged it in their favor, “But with so many people staying cooped up, is that really what we want for this? Just saying…”

>To not vote meant that one couldn’t complain about the results they got. You had planned on no interference, and that was final. Things would stand as they are.
>This democracy would be enforced. Take troops off the line to go door knocking and collecting votes that way. Nobody could complain about that being done, could they?
>Take troops in to look for anybody intimidating or coercing people, with arms or not, and arrest them if found doing such. You wouldn’t force anybody to come to a poll, but you certainly wouldn’t suffer any undermining of authority.
>Other?

>>3978130
>>This democracy would be enforced. Take troops off the line to go door knocking and collecting votes that way. Nobody could complain about that being done, could they?
>>Take troops in to look for anybody intimidating or coercing people, with arms or not, and arrest them if found doing such.
If we need to call in 2nd Platoon into town as well so our manpower isn't stretched too thinly.

>>3978130
>>Take troops in to look for anybody intimidating or coercing people, with arms or not, and arrest them if found doing such. You wouldn’t force anybody to come to a poll, but you certainly wouldn’t suffer any undermining of authority.

>>3978130
>>Take troops in to look for anybody intimidating or coercing people, with arms or not, and arrest them if found doing such. You wouldn’t force anybody to come to a poll, but you certainly wouldn’t suffer any undermining of authority.

>>3978130
>>Take troops in to look for anybody intimidating or coercing people, with arms or not, and arrest them if found doing such. You wouldn’t force anybody to come to a poll, but you certainly wouldn’t suffer any undermining of authority.

>>3978134
Enforce democracy!

>>3978142
>>3978154
>>3978179
You don't care if they vote or not, what's important is that nobody's telling them they can't. Because that reflects poorly on you.

Writing.

“…Have some troops fan out over town to see if there are people blocking or intimidating others…from getting to the polling place…if so, arrest them…but we won’t force anybody to come out if they don’t care…If you need help, we can call 2nd platoon in from outside…”

“Should be fine, coordinator.” Kristoph said dismissively, “Sit tight and watch the show. I’ll take some boys out and keep the peace.”

You watched Kristoph go back to his remaining platoon, remaining squads filing out into different sections of the town, and all you could wonder was whether or not you were unintentionally playing into Gerovic’s hands by having no preference…

-----

“So that’s how it is, huh?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Well then. I suppose we shouldn’t let the day pass with a boring conclusion, hm? What do you say, shall we mess with the mischief makers or the game wardens?”

“…Speak plainly, Captain.”

“…”

“You are deciding action on a coin toss?”

“If I were a decisive man I would have a wife by now, Serzhant…Ah. Interesting. Rouse our Moskity, see how the good Kommandant does against a more even match.”

-----

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848 KB PNG

“Votes are counted and recounted, Coordinator.” Kristoph said to you after a couple mind numbing hours and change, “Rosenthal’s the winner. Pretty close, too, but he’s over by a good fifty or so.”

The best sort of margin for your purposes. A slim one. You easily could have been responsible for it, in Rosenthal’s eyes. Too bad, Gespie. You certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him- as far as you knew, at least, his house was his own. You’d prevent anything untoward from happening to him, but he was no longer mayor as of today.

Kelwin had arrived in the meantime, and seemed almost disappointed nothing had come about for how he’d been dragged here. You had explained the situation to him- but not any of your more secret dealings.

“This isn’t really how it’s supposed to work,” Kelwin repeated something you already knew, “No matter what’s decided here, the party’ll say Gespie’s the mayor of New Jorgenstohn.”

“…Yet we’d be the ones who’d keep him in power. And rather than force him over a population set to riot against him…we can allow this, and make things easier for ourselves…Let the party come in themselves and handle the riot if they decide differently…”

“I guess.” Kelwin seemed unsatisfied. “The weapons Rosenthal’s supporters had, though?”

“…I intend to press on that point.”

“Did you hear that?” Kelwin said suddenly, and both of you fell quiet. Some ways away, to the southwest…

Brakk-a-brakk-a-brakkkakkakkakk-a

“A machine gun,” Kelwin parsed immediately, a guess you…somehow wouldn’t have made. “A fight.”

“…One of ours..?”

Kelwin blinked at you. “…Uh, no. Not unless the penal battalion got something new, and, they wouldn’t have, and there’s no mercenaries operating in that sector. It has to be enemy.” Was he just saying that because he hoped for it? He did seem to be getting rather excited.

Return fire was being given, and the same machine gun, as well as a few partners, responded in kind. It sounded, if you were to guess, like it was from in between New Jorgenstohn and the UGZ- most likely one of your company’s patrols being engaged, and thus . You wondered if you should go and help…

>Good. You were wondering when the Twaryians would strike next. Go out and prepare to strike them. (With what portion of your troops/assets?)
>It was Kelwin’s lucky day. Let him take the reins to go and find out what was happening, and most likely, reinforce the patrol being engaged. (With what portion of troops/assets?)
>You’d have to trust the patrol to disengage if they were overmatched, or fight well if they weren’t. You couldn’t disgorge platoons for every loud noise, especially if it might be a diversion.
>Other?

>>3978551
>>It was Kelwin’s lucky day. Let him take the reins to go and find out what was happening, and most likely, reinforce the patrol being engaged. (With what portion of troops/assets?)
Give him command of 2nd Platoon since they're missing their officer anyway. 1st Platoon can cover 3rd if anything happens.

>>3978551
>>It was Kelwin’s lucky day. Let him take the reins to go and find out what was happening, and most likely, reinforce the patrol being engaged. (With what portion of troops/assets?)
2nd Platoon

>>3978551
Also tanq did you roll to see who was the winning candidate?

>>3978551
>It was Kelwin’s lucky day. Let him take the reins to go and find out what was happening, and most likely, reinforce the patrol being engaged. (With what portion of troops/assets?)
With everyone we have here, because why not.

>>3978551
>>It was Kelwin’s lucky day. Let him take the reins to go and find out what was happening, and most likely, reinforce the patrol being engaged. (With what portion of troops/assets?)
2nd Platoon,we and Kristoph can stay here to make sure there's no post-election violence or in case it's a diversion and their main target is here.

>>3978557
>>3978571
>>3978618
Go forth, Kelwin, with 2nd platoon! We'll stay here with the A team.

>>3978595
And third!

Writing.

>>3978579
I did not. The victor was determined by voter turnout. As it happens, enough of New Jorgenstohn didn't seem to care enough about who's in the mayoral office, while all of Reismuhle, were quite motivated.

“…Tell you what.” You said steadily, “Captain Kelwin. How about you take 2nd Platoon and see what’s going on…third platoon and I will remain here to make sure everything transitions cleanly…” or in case the trouble Kelwin was responding to was a diversion. “If things get hotter, I’ll come around. Just shoot flares up…”

“Ah, ah, thank you, coordinator!” Kelwin saluted stiffly as he thanked you for allowing him to do something he technically didn’t need your leave to do, “I’ll hand them their heads!”

At least he was confident, you thought as you watched him pelt off back towards 2nd platoon.

-----

Gespie wouldn’t come out of his home, but you did see Rosenthal paraded about by his people, with their weapons thankfully not present. Not that they’d deigned to surrender them either- fair enough, considering the Twaryians, but you wondered if you’d be made to go and confiscate them at a later date anyways. All of Gespie’s supporters that had gathered to oppose Rosenthal’s protest had gone home to stew in their loss, while much of New Jorgenstohn appeared to resume business as usual. Would Rosenthal continue Gespie’s business ventures? They hadn’t mattered enough for you to push for Gespie’s victory, but it wasn’t as if the timid man had no vision. Perhaps Rosenthal was more a people’s mayor than an entrepreneur- he was appointed by the Defense Party to lead a town, after all.

“You think the Captain’ll be fine, Coordinator?” Kristoph continued to converse with you, thankfully not about conspiracies which you knew nothing about. “Abetz is still down and out, and Sergeant Cohlmar’s…I don’t know him, I guess he’s fine, not like he’s messed up anything, but I don’t know him.” Kristoph lit a cigarette, “Come to think of it, I don’t know the Captain too well either. What would you guess his command’s like, since 2nd platoon’s about to experience it. I know your retinue or whatever let him along a few times while you were gone, but I don’t think he did much? Mostly observing?”

>Judge Kelwin’s character. This will impact what sort of commander type he develops into…perhaps as a result of matching your view of his character when it comes to how he applies it to a fight.

>He’s certainly eager enough to prove himself. (Aggressive, Ambitious)
>Kelwin is too hesitant to take action on his own. Easy to manage, at least. (Cautious, Stalwart)
>Have you heard about the time he was almost coerced into bed against his will? The Duchess of wherever, the High Protector’s cousin, gave him a kiss and led him on to be played with by her socialite friends. He managed to get away and hide. Funny, huh. Set to flee by fancy dresses. (Fretful, Anxious)
>Other?
Also, give me two sets of 1d100 dice rolls, DC greater than. 2nd Platoon has a base combat ability of 30, +10 for regular experience, +5 for greater numbers. They will have mortar support for another +10, for final result of 55. Against an opponent with a combat ability of 75.
…You may reroll one, depending on the personality trait, when the resolution comes.
Good luck!

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>3978747
>>He’s certainly eager enough to prove himself. (Aggressive, Ambitious)

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>3978747
>>Kelwin is too hesitant to take action on his own. Easy to manage, at least. (Cautious, Stalwart)

>>3978757
Oh.
>>3978760
Oh dear.

Well, once I call vote for judgment, I'll say which can be rerolled if desired!

>>3978747
>Kelwin is too hesitant to take action on his own. Easy to manage, at least. (Cautious, Stalwart)
Partially because we already have Raider leaders on the team and partially because that last option absolutely happened and I cannot see him as Aggressive ever. But he has been chomping at the bit enough to at least believe Stalwart.

>>3978747
>>Kelwin is too hesitant to take action on his own. Easy to manage, at least. (Cautious, Stalwart)
Oof those dice

>>3978747
>Kelwin is too hesitant to take action on his own. Easy to manage, at least. (Cautious, Stalwart)

>>3978757
Faith in ambition.

>>3978760
>>3978774
>>3978776
>>3978784
He at least does what he's told, and doesn't snap.

How fortunate for you. This trait is the one that would let you re-roll the 2nd dice. So if I could get one more d100 and then I'll proceed writing.

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>3979654