“Right. Though…I’ll admit,” the Radio Operator leaned further out of the tank and sighed at the surroundings, “This being the objective makes me scratch my head. There’s nothing out here, it’s all just flat ground. Good for tanks, but what’s the worth in and of itself?”

“Oh ho, to you it might be a bunch of flat nothing,” Roth-Vogel smirked heartily, “And that might be what higher-higher wants anybody to think, but to a flyboy? Flat, hard ground, this far up? It’ll take a day or so of no-rests work, but this ain’t no nothing. This is an airfield.”

-----

“Herr Von Metzeler,” a lone, middle aged servant bowed at the gates to the Von Schneeberg estate, “On behalf of Count Von Schneeberg, allow me to welcome you to the household.” The manor, as well as its surrounding villa, was an opulent construction surrounded in every direction by rural landscape, only a scant few isolated clutches of homes dotting the surroundings- minders of the farms, few of them doing more than surveying the fields in these times where what was planted was merely there to peacefully slumber.

Von Metzeler had come alone, and hadn’t given much advance notice for his visit- Frederick had promised to keep things sorted with the family he now knew naught about, while the noble himself went to explore what would be his future. Even if it was by the family’s hand. He hadn’t wanted to make a choice on who to spend the rest of his life with based on a preference of photos and brief descriptions, but the family had made an ultimatum, and Von Metzeler hadn’t know what else to do. He chose Klaudia Von Schneeberg- the lands for many acres around belonged to the Von Schneebergs, and with the ailing patriarch only having one daughter, said lands were ready to fall into eager hands indeed. The choice wasn’t made because of greed, of course- Klaudia looked gentle, and shy, and Rondo Von Metzeler had decided that if he was to marry for any reason, a moral one like protecting one who might be easily exploited was plenty good enough.

The scion of the (allegedly) honorless family followed the lone servant through deathly silent halls, many lights dimmed, though every surface dutifully dusted and shined despite the lack of…anybody.

“Lady Klaudia is very reclusive, and the Count has been quite ill,” the servant explained, “Besides myself, the chef and his apprentice, and the Lord’s personal attendant, most who work indoors only linger long enough to do their duties before being let home.”

“…Naturally…” Von Metzeler looked about the place and tried not to see beasts in the many shadows. Much of the furniture was dark and worn, the tile speckled granite of black and grey- it all seemed quite old, especially the bronze and stone sculptures set off to the sides between each set of doors. Somehow, the age of the place and everything in it felt unusual. Was this place from before the Altossian Conquest’s new constructions? How old a family was Von Schneeberg? “…How ill is he..?”

“Count Von Schneeberg is recovering from a bout of his heart condition,” the servant supplied calmly, “He has recovered from worse in the past, but he cannot be expected to stand, nor entertain, I hope you understand.”

At the end of a great hall, the servant opened a door slowly to a room that was dimly lit save for fireplace that crackled at its head, a pair of armchairs set before it. In one, a man more decrepit than his years sat, a blanket covering his legs and a velvet robe around his shoulders. White hair fell off the top of a balding head. Dark splotches mottled his skin, but despite the weakness of his body, he had grim resolve in his expression. An attendant stood at his side, a tray of vials resting on a small table beside.

“My Count,” the servant announced, “Herr Von Metzeler has arrived.”

Von Metzeler went to the back of the room, set himself before the old count, and knelt on one knee. “…Milord, I am Rondo Von Metzeler, of house Von Metzeler. I apologize that I did not send word of my coming from further ahead…If I knew of your present condition…”

“Yes, I am sure your timing was an innocent mistake,” the hostile derision that greeted Von Metzeler was a splash of cold water in the face. “I suppose you are here to claim your ]right,” Count Von Schneeberg sniffed with seething contempt, “Your family’s hold upon me does not mandate that I grovel before you. Leave me be, that I might forget how I have failed my only child.”

“…Family’s hold..?” Von Metzeler looked up in confusion. “…Groveling..?”

“Do you mock me?” the Count snapped angrily, though he near certainly couldn’t stand, “I will not suffer the mockery of a crippled whelp, a dishonorable plunderer of the meek. Begone!”

Von Metzeler didn’t understand at all what was happening- he turned and left, though he grit his teeth at being impugned so. He hadn’t done anything wrong- had he? No, even if he could not remember much of his life, he knew he couldn’t have done something to aggrieve this man so, no matter what his family may have done.

“…You have no right to speak to me so…” Von Metzeler tried not to growl as he stood to his feet, and it made his voice rattle, “I have done nothing to you, nor your daughter, I have not even spoken an unkind word. Please, I do not understand…what you are referring to…”

“I said, remove yourself from my presence, boy!” Count Von Schneeberg barked, “You are the eldest son. Your knowledge and complicity are equal. I refuse to speak further with the likes of your ilk. What more can you demand of me? Go!”

With a bite of his lip and a repressed retort, Von Metzeler turned on his heel and stormed back out. Getting into a heated argument with an old man with a heart condition…even he was not so foolish to risk the life of a father-in-law out of pride alone. The silence of the manor made more and more sense. The building, its inhabitants, the land itself- it was all shunning him. Should he have just turned about and left?

No, he had to at least see Klaudia. If somebody would only listen to him, let him explain himself, get to know him, surely the impression of him would turn around.

The servant did not apologize for the Count’s behavior as he led Von Metzeler to the other side entirely on the silent manor- towards what was evidently a very well-appointed library.

“Count Von Schneeberg inherited a library that survived the cultural purges of Alexander,” the servant recited, “And Lady Klaudia is quite studious. Were she to leave the estate, I dare say she could be a force to be reckoned with in even the study halls of Couronne Arc-En-Ciel.”

One of the cultural centers of Emre, and high praise- of a sort likely exaggerated, but Von Metzeler was plenty willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Funny how he knew more about the world around him than he did of himself. How vain it would have been to hope that the library had a book on himself.

Said library was opened before Von Metzeler- it wasn’t particularly wide, but its ceiling went up to the third floor- every wall of the round room was a towering series of shelves, ladders in places, a spiraling staircase going all the way upwards. There was no clock, no windows, no ocular in the dome above, even. One could lose all track of time in here, in the white-yellow lamplight.

Tucked away on the right edge of the circle- two sets of small wooden carts, each with a neat row of books upon them, and between them on a wooden chair, a pile of blankets. No, there was somebody inside that pile, holding a thick tome up to their face. Who it was, was obvious, but it took a second look to recognize her.

“Lady Klaudia,” the servant said, softer that he had announced to the lord of the house, “I have brought a visitor.”

The lone heir of Von Schneeberg was near unrecognizable from the photo of her that had been given. Her hair still fell in black curls, but it was unkempt and wiry, and not even a touch of cosmetic laid upon a plain, ghostly pale face. She had held the book close to her face, but ever since the door had opened and Von Metzeler had come through…she had been regarding him with a fearful look.

It disrupted Von Metzeler’s composure, as he walked up to her and wondered how he was supposed to do this. Should he simply act as though this were normal? The encounter with her father had been treated as such, but with how that went…

“…Lady Klaudia Von Schneeberg. I am Rondo Von Metzeler, of house Von Metzeler,” the lieutenant said steadily, “I am pleased to meet you.”

Klaudia stared at him…then her eyes slowly traveled back down to the book she had.

“…What are you reading..?” Von Metzeler asked.

“…” She said nothing.

Von Metzeler squatted down to look at the book’s cover. The Definitive Studies of Zeeland Folklore, Volume III. “…You are interested in mythologies..?”

“…”

Von Metzeler felt his mouth curve into a frown. A part of him was growing irritated, agitated- was he being insulted? “…Will you not speak to me..?”

“…”

“…If you do not mind,” Von Metzeler turned aside, “I will look about these books and join you…”

A dark cloud descended on the young scion as he faced a shelf wall, but stared into the spines rather than searching for anything. What was he even doing here? Not just at the Von Schneeberg estate, but home as a whole. What sort of contemptible things did he not remember of his family that would make people act around him like this?

He had to stay. He refused to leave as things were now, his very being demanded that he stay out of defiance alone, yet…he remembered the pleasant conversation, the walks, the smiles in Ellowie…here…

Was there anybody that would be glad to see him?

-----

“Mmnnn…” Maddalyn held you as close as she could, her arms tight around the back of your neck, and breathed a sigh of satisfaction before pushing her tongue into your mouth. She ground against you, straddled you- and you did your best to pull her into you as well. Your little redhead was more aggressive than she’d ever been, and the moment she separated to pant out a few hot breathes, steam in the winter air, her cheeks were bright red. That short look was all she allowed you before she rushed you once more. You’d been the first one to start kissing her under this tree in the middle of the woods, all by yourselves, but this little woman was saying without words, It ends when I say so.

You were only willing to indulge, but even now, you made a conscious effort to not let her push you down, no matter how she tried. Even held by the throes of your fiancée’s conquest of your senses, you didn’t want the drool running down her chin to start dripping down your throat. A conditional surrender- you’d save squeezing her butt for later.

Madddalyn parted from you again, a trail of saliva connecting your lips, and she wheezed for breath as she rested the crown of her head against yours. Her eye was closed, and she opened it slowly as the rise and fall of her chest slowed once more.

”I have waited…so long…” Maddalyn whispered, “These two days I have won’t have to sate me for long, will they..?”

She was sitting, quite deliberately, from how she had been moving her hips, on your manhood. She must have felt how much it despised the barrier of your trousers. It forced a question from you.

“Do you want to…consummate?” you sputtered clumsily.

Maddalyn blinked, then stammered, “H-here?”

Your head took over again, thankfully. “I more meant, while I’m back…but, if you want, or, I mean, only if you want to.”

Maddalyn’s lost, dazed look gained focus again, and her mouth curved downwards. “…I…I’m sorry…” She pulled back some, but still kept her arms around you, “I love that you want to, and I couldn’t think of denying you it if you sought to take it, but…I’m not ready. I don’t know when I’ll be ready. I’m sorry.”

Your more lustful humors were dissipating seeing the sadness on her face, in her voice, and you stroked your fiancée’s hair. “It’s alright.” It’s not as though she isn’t down for dirty stuff, y’know, your member reminded you hopefully. Calm down, literal idiotic prick. Instead, you turned Maddalyn’s shoulder so she sat in your lap with her back to you, and pulled her hair behind her ear. “I can’t help but compelled, you know. You are lovely, after all.”

She didn’t respond to that, and you felt the little lady’s shoulders slacken as you wrapped your arms around her waist. Did she not believe you? She was blind, and even the spectral vision that gave her an imitation of true sight couldn’t tell her what people looked like, reliably, and she couldn’t look into a mirror. Were you not convincing? It was the truth. Reassuring nibbles were lavished on the edge of Maddalyn’s ear, and she relaxed- a little bit.

“You have something to tell me, don’t you,” Maddalyn said quietly, “something you didn’t want my guards close by for. Besides this.”

“I did want to ask about a few things, and talk,” you said, blowing into her ear, “I thought to get the most important thing out of the way first.”

“So…what is it,” Maddalyn asked apprehensively, tensing up ever so slightly.

“It’s to do with Poltergeist, and Emma, the ember that I’ve had with me,” you said, “I don’t think you’ll like it, at all, but I can’t hide it from you. You need to know.”

“The ember’s turned into a blaze, hasn’t it.”

You swallowed. “Er, yes. You could tell?”

Maddalyn sighed...yet she...sounded relieved? “The marks upon your presence tell of it,” Maddalyn said, “It’s not easy to tell. Blazes are not often so cautious in feeding, but I was…looking for it.”

Perhaps that was why Yva hadn’t said anything about it. Or perhaps she had noticed and hadn’t acted? That didn’t sound right, though. “Yes. It was my fault, really. She was as she ever was, but when I left, and came back, I found that I hadn’t given her the attention she needed. Emma is a blaze, now.”

“That’s the nature of them,” Maddalyn told you with a tired sigh, “They start as mimics, and they become more efficient mimics. It’s turning from a parasite into a predator. No matter what it thinks it is, Presence creatures are not meant to intersect with true life. A creature born of Presence alone trying to be a living thing is an abomination, an intruder. Now that it’s at this stage, it either must be destroyed, or the consequences will be paid in one way or another.”

“I wanted to ask about that. What’s the main danger? What comes after a blaze?”

“A lot of things.” Maddalyn said in a flat tone, “Most of them very bad. I could dispel a blaze, but not anything that springs forth from it. A blaze is so good a mimic it can fool itself, but that…act will disappear with its next metamorphosis. Embers are hungry, Richter, and Blazes are hungry. They aren’t creatures that are in stasis like Hungry Darkness, they aren’t passive like Starelings. Their nature is to consume, and moreover, to feed off of us. That’s the path they go along.”

“There isn’t a way to reverse it? To make her back into an ember?” you asked, hopes plummeting by the word. “If you reduced their presence, or something?”

“A blaze has become a different sort of creature. Starving it would dispel it, or split it into different creatures, neither of which would be an ember.”

Now for the part you were sure would make her angry. She’d been taking it well so far- perhaps because she expected it, but this… “What would happen if she were to…possess somebody?”

Maddalyn twitched on top of you, said nothing, her breath caught and stopped. “…Who.”

“Somebody very bad. Cruel, despicable, I wanted to help her but also keep this person from-“

“Who.”

“The Duchess of Diamenglicia, in Ellowie. Kamilia Von Katski.”

“Von Katski? The royal family?” Maddalyn sounded puzzled.

“She said she only wanted to try it, to be in and out. She doesn’t want to hurt anybody, honestly.”

Maddalyn had become resigned, rather than furious. “Well. Possession is bad, but it’s the second best outcome to dispelling it. It’s a return to stasis.”

You blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“At the Blaze stage, if possession occurs for too long, the presence creature subsumes the host’s presence.” Maddalyn explained coolly, “To summarize in layman’s terms, the souls combine and the body is stolen, the dominant presence being preserved. If the host doesn’t have the willpower to eject them, that means the possessing spirit takes the body. Then they’re not a blaze anymore, at least.”

“Emma said she wanted to do good, to leave that person better for having possessed them,” you murmured, “She was addicted to opium, Maddalyn…”

“It’s how it is. If she does break away before they merge, then the best solution is for her to be destroyed. In my opinion, you should have told that soulbinder near you to stop being distracted with whatever kept her from actually looking for such things.”

“I want to choose the third option where she needn’t die, again.”

“…I suppose I can’t fault you,” Maddalyn rested her back against you and nestled her head against your chin, “For giving anything a second chance. Ignorant, playing with forces you don’t understand, but…you do mean well. It doesn’t change what I said about what either will happen or has to happen.”

Forces you didn’t understand, huh. Time for the thing she couldn’t be anything but angry about, but she had to know. “The other thing. When I fought my duel…I had to call upon Poltergeist, for the favor he asked for. To save my life. I accepted the deal.”

Maddalyn was silent again- more than that, she had become petrified against you, before she went slack and sank further into your lap, against your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you said lowly, unsure what else to add.

“I…” Maddalyn’s voice cracked like glass, “That thing, it’s the product of my negligence, my greed, and so many perished because of it. It being used as an exchange, I can’t…I can’t…but if I was told, I either could keep it sealed away, or trade it for your life…I don’t…” Her trembling hands raised to her head, and she sank into them. “…Why,” she said, barely above a whisper, “Did you…did you…why did you risk your life, knowing that you might have to…do this? Was it worth it?”

You paused, then tightened your hold on your wife. “No. It wasn’t worth it. I was foolish, and I had to call upon my last resort to survive. I had to try anyways, and I did everything I thought I could. I tried my very best, and it wasn’t enough…but I couldn’t lose. I couldn’t lose my life, with you, for my family and friends. So…I’m sorry. But the demiphantom wasn’t your responsibility. Not after I took you from that vault. It doesn’t speak to you, it doesn’t pull you away from this world, and even if you wanted to, you can’t free it again. Only I can. I don’t want to hear you blame yourself any further. Alright?”

Maddalyn said nothing, still holding her head and shaking- you put your hand to her head and stroked her hair, moving her trembling hands aside. You sat with each other like this, you silent, and her catatonic, and let the breeze blow over. You didn’t know for how long, until a weak reply was stammered out.

“D-don’t.” Maddalyn said thinly, “Don’t take all of my problems onto yourself. I can solve them. I promise, I won’t give up like I did then. Not if all it does is make you suffer…” She turned around again and pressed her lips against yours, for a moment. “We’re no good for each other. I cause you trouble, and you drive me crazy. I’m so tired. I want to be nothing but furious, miserable, but all I can do is try not to faint.” She put her arms around you again, “I don’t want to dwell more on this. I’m happy I still have you, despite everything. Thinking about it more deeply only wears me ragged. Let’s speak of…anything else.”

“…” You weren’t sure you wanted to speak on anything else. It would feel like squeezing this little lady for her blood, but at the same time, it was what she wanted…she opened her eye to you, and the sky blue request stared into an eye you knew it couldn’t see, no matter how much she might desire. “Alright. How about the project you’re working on? You said it was different, that it’d be a far cry from any earlier failures, so what is it? I know you couldn’t talk about it back there,” You had spoken of ghosts and spirits and presence nonsense in public before, but it was the sort that could be disguised as innocent superstition. “I’m interested. Interested in your work, your craft.”

That hadn’t been the right thing to ask about, judging from how she frowned and looked away.

“I. Er.” Maddalyn stuttered, “It’s…I…” she looked right, and left, then back at you. “I need to ask you something before I talk about that. It’s not that you can’t know, or, er, but,” Maddalyn cut herself off with a choked cough. “It’s…let’s say, theoretically, the current structure of, well, everything…if it all caught fire, metaphorically. If things started falling apart, and you had to choose a side…who would you stay by? That’s something…I need to know before I talk about it. Please, you have to understand…”

>?

Other questions and subjects to be discussed voted for last thread will be covered, after this.

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

>>4483910
This is....a very vague question, but.
>Whatever side Maddalyn was on.
Ride or Die on that Happy Wife Happy Life shit.

>>4483910
I guess it depends of how much everything catches on fire. If The Big One pops off with the Reich, it would be a hard sell to side with them over Strossvald, especially if we have our tanks and we need to start shooting our friends with them. That is assuming whatever catalyst for that leaves a Strossvald to fight for though. If there was some civil war from between the territorial lords due to a unclear or contested succession of old Von Strossvald, that gets complicated. Maybe the best bet then would be to take an old Von Tracht classic and grab a tank, defect, and find the people that we care about and keep them safe.

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>>4484068

>>4484047
I like this, if Richter is anything he's traditional. That and wouldn't be the first time we defected.

>>4484047
Would we even be defecting if we decided to back Von Blum in a succession war? We're already part of his territorial forces, no? I think that is what Maddy is referring to, and it would only make sense for us to back the family we're supposed to be marrying into.
Not to mention, I don't think Von Blum is in league with the IO in any way (unless I've missed some clue) so if it goes down that way, that would be our sought after method to sever Richter's ties to the IO without landing in disgrace.

>>4484131
>>4483948
+1

>>4484131
I was thinking the need for defection would be in the context of being on assignment with the Silver Lances. I wanted to lean more on what to do in a theoretical worst case scenario, rather than what to do in case your wife wants you to commit treason.

>>4483910
>>4484047
I'll support this, against foreign enemies Strossvald for sure. If there's a succession crisis I don't think the von Blums are a bad option to align with.

>>4484185
I'd be surprised if this popped off before we're back from the Lances assignment. It's supposedly not going to take very long.
It is kind of worrisome to be making seditious plans considering what Richter's father was saying, though. If we didn't know better, this would almost seem like an IO sting operation.
Who knows who they're backing, but if they could get everyone else in Strossvald to turn on the Von Blums preemptively by exposing their plans through us, they'll have tied up the loose end that is Richter AND got a head start on whatever fuckery they have planned for the succession war by knocking out a big adversary.

>>4484196
Eh I doubt the von Blums are alone in this, every Territorial Lord is probably making contingency plans once the news broke. If old Siegfried can live until his grandson reaches his majority, fine. If not...

>>4484227
I'm sure they all are, but if they're given the opportunity to gang up against the Blums, they can jockey for influence and position without rocking the boat before it erupts into a truly chaotic civil war with all the lords positioned against each other.

>>4483910
>Our loyalty would be to the people we care about. Family comes before politics, always.

>>4484247
From what our dad said last thread, if the vote of no confidence passes then the next Archduke is selected from the branch lines, so we're probably going to see factions at court start to form around the potential candidates, of which the von Blums are presumably going to support one.

The only scenarios I can see everyone ganging up on von Blum without any allies would be if Lord von Blum tries to openly secede or tries to seize the throne for himself, both of which I think unlikely.

>>4483910
Another thing to add: I'll support whatever side you're on, but frankly I'm not even sure what the various sides are going to be, much less their aims. Now that I've promised you that could you tell me more about the overall situation?

>>4483910
Goddammit tanq, first Emma, now this? You're certainly not going easy on us.

>Maybe she shouldn't talk about this then. Without knowing what the sides are, how can we decide?

I wonder if a Blaze can possess a body in a vegetative state. Where could we find one?

>>4483948
>>4484164
>>4484248
Team Wife

>>4484047
>>4484085
>>4484186
I fight for my friends

>>4484278
But I'm ignorant of the situation- are there sides?

>>4484444
Without the necessary perspective, maybe it's better to not speak of it, then.

Writing.

>>4484068
it's a seal of approval

Also, regarding certain discussion topics like Ellowie's spiritual density, the magic reappearing village and sky spirits, the same questions were already asked of her a while ago in this thread - http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3811927/ , so I'll just point back there instead of restating them here.

It was funny; not too long ago, you would have immediately and reflexively said “the Archduchy’s,” but this was a more nuanced question than that, one that didn’t prompt a thoughtless answer, not anymore.

“You ought to know,” you kept your arms around Maddalyn’s middle, “that the only side I have ever been on, was yours. If everything falls apart, my allegiance would be to my friends and family.”

“…Which am I?”

“Does that even have to be asked?” you said as you moved your right hand over Maddalyn’s stomach and let it rest there. She said nothing, as she put her own hand on that hand, and stroked it…and lingered on the stumps where two of your fingers once had been.

“…I can have somebody replace them,” Maddalyn mumbled, “The best that can be given, I’ll make sure of it.”

Your answer was a soft bite of her ear, once more.

“I think we should stand, again,” Maddalyn said quietly as she pushed your hand gently away, “If we’re to speak of this, and other things, I should be focused, I think.” You helped her up- then gave her butt a poke with a single finger, prompting an angry glare- the hidden goal of the act all along. “Such chivalry,” Maddalyn muttered scornfully. “The project, though…I suppose you need no reminder of the recent news concerning the crown prince, or how the last crown prince perished.”

Thank you, father, for making sure you didn’t need to be told again how you and Maddalyn ended up engaged in the first place.

“Since great suspicion was purposely placed upon my elder half brother last something like this occurred, we cannot help but be that much more cautious. Even in what should be safe territory, additional guardsmen are required to mind my person. Particularly, though, in the urban areas, less so here, strange as it may seem.”

You were flattered that she put such trust in you to be her guard, even after she was told of the magnitude of your loss of skill and knowledge. Well, to be true, you could confidently evade an enemy here, even if you couldn’t fight them. “I suppose I need some more context for the question to answer it better, though. I would stand with Strossvald against a foreign enemy, but I have technically deserted before…under orders to. If internal divisions occurred, I am assigned under your father’s lands, but how would the divisions occur? Do you know?”

“Hm. How much of a geographical expert are you?”

“It must be something among half of what I’ve forgotten, because I know naught of the lands of the territorial lords. Can you remind me of those relevant?”

“Well,” Maddalyn sniffed, “They’re all relevant, but I’ll try to be brief. Else we’ll be spending the night out here. There’s…” She rattled off a list of names, some familiar, some not, others you were sure weren’t territorial lords, but she appended them saying they were major figures within territories. You hadn’t known Van Halm had been a territorial prince… “Allegiances are usually along mutual concerns, of course, or marriage circumstances, though territorial lords rarely marry across, because of the risks of dividing land. The Archduke mediates a divide, you see. Territorial lords are forbidden from purposefully uniting families of major territories, even if they’d like to, which isn’t often. Usually, such is left up to branch families to imply a bond. For example, a branch of house Von Blum has marriages with a branch of house Von Garlann, since they have no border concerns, and so differ from the Von Sudenpentes near Delsau who might distract from my family’s duties with the Imperial gate.”

That mostly went over your head, but you nodded. The gist of it was understood.

“My house is very powerful, of course. We need to be, in order to guard against the Reich. We are given more to compensate- something many are jealous of, since our lands are prosperous and wealthy as it stands. This means we’re…um. Isolated.” Maddalyn paused with discomfort and you rubbed her back as you walked on. “That my family are the guardians of the border with the Reich gives us influence with the Archduke, but everyone is wary of what we could potentially do, in allowing the Reich through. Such is why the Archduke has his own military units on the border as well, but, still. Some courts would say we’re a sneaky and dangerous sort, because we’re Demimperi, but really, we’ve the most to gain by aligning ourself with the Archduke.”

“So if a succession crisis started…”

“Yes.” Maddalyn swallowed, “We would be in a precarious position.”

“And your project is to help remedy this?” you asked, “How?”

“It’s…well.” Maddalyn fumbled for words, “See, it’s…well, it’s, well…it’s not meant to be a weapon, or some sort of creature, or something like that. That’d attract attention from more soulbinders, and really bad attention, since this is bigger and would go further than anything with the tanks did. Thankfully the end result can’t be easily figured out, in theory. It’s mostly theory right now, but it’s really solid. The plan isn’t even to use it, but to just be able to avoid a fight by using it to appear stronger than we are. And if we have to use it, then we will be stronger.”

“So what is it?”

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“Trained, skilled soldiers. More than we ought to have.” Maddalyn said, “Stronger than most, too. See, the mountain peoples, the followers of Soulbinders, that help and support them, they sometimes use these things called Huskers. Mindless, presence actuated automatons. Those are a closely kept secret…and not what the Hermit was an expert in anyways, but they’d be too noticeable to wandering mystics. The same sort of theory can be used upon…incomplete people, though. People who may as well be gone already anyways. Criminals who are to be put to death. Madmen. Brain-damaged. I can’t really explain it without you having…well, read through and been instructed with the things I’ve been learning through my life, but, I have the help of a team of researchers and doctors, too.”

“What does it do, though?” you asked, frowning. This all sounded suspect. Dangerous.

“It’s a similar principle I’ve tried before, but one with a better base and theory behind it. Presence reflects the physical form, and Soulbinders can shift people’s presence, dominating them with their own power…stitch spells restore a person’s body through their presence, so, there’s strong suggestion that a person’s body, and mind, can be warped through presence. Even if they're...incomplete. In fact…the Hermit had documents proving it, that I re-deciphered looking for…something else. But, the end goal is…” Maddalyn’s back straightened, and you saw her mouth tilt upwards, “When our enemies attempt to intimidate us, we reveal such reserves of such might, that they would not even dare to threaten us. Nobody would be able to predict that our might could swell so suddenly, and they would not be feeble conscripts, but strong, skilled fighters, and to reveal them in the numbers they’d be in, what confidence could they have in their intelligence, in their own preparedness?” Maddalyn put her hands on her chest, and twiddled her fingers with one another, her smile spreading. “Father allowed me to work upon it, and already, things look so hopeful. I’ll have my wonderful husband, there will be peace in our lands…Father will be proud of me again…”

She noticed you staring, and walked in front of you, bringing you both to a stop.

“So, er, what do you think? It’s a lot, I know, and I’m not sure about a lot, but…it’s a way I can help, and so much that can be gained. Isn’t it…good?”

>It sounds “good”, but not like it ought to be anything that’s needed…or to be shown. Or that you ought to ask further about.
>What a wonderful wife you have. Lavish her with praise- promise your support. Could you do aught else?
>It’s something terribly dangerous, is what it is. Tell Maddalyn that you think she ought to stop it all at once.
>Other?

Not like you have a map for Maddy to point to atm, but this is the rough division of territories, which you can "look up" to know later anyways.

>>4485618
>Other
I won't pretend I don't have reservations but I know how important this is to you. Just make sure to be *extremely* careful.

>>4485618
>a person’s body, and mind, can be warped through presence
>they would not be feeble conscripts, but strong, skilled fighters
Am I missing something or does this just sound like the Trance? Did we not tell Maddy about what Richter went through, now or when she visited in Sosaldt?

>>4485618
>>It’s something terribly dangerous, is what it is. Tell Maddalyn that you think she ought to stop it all at once.

So you're saying in the event of civil war, suddenly having Superman Soldiers in such numbers and quality would intimidate your enemies into not attacking? Wouldn't this just lend weight to your enemies in isolating you further since they already see your family as dangerously powerful?

It's not like they are going to divine the truth of where these meatball-man version of Huskers were created. Perhaps even worse they'd see these troops as reinforcements from the Reich itself?
Operation Pufferfish sounds like a bad idea. Can't they make alliances with families not bordering them?

>Other?
Just how many "incomplete" people do you have to justify this anyways? A platoon? A battalion? 30 battalions? What happens when you run out of the condemned and insane?
What was the Hermit an expert in if not this?

>>4485618
Supporting >>4485627
Also
>How can the soldiers be controlled? Do they have special maintenance needs? What will you do with them once they're no longer needed? Won't people think they're from Reich, cause that would be bad? Why not just hire mercenaries?
Also also
>Do you think I could stick a particular Blaze into one of those incomplete people?
Last, but not least also:
>Your father ought to be proud of you already. That he isn't is, honestly, a travesty.

>that I re-deciphered looking for…something
What were you looking for?

>>4485627
>>4485688
Please be careful, I know this is important, but I won't stop you.

>>4485686
Everything about this is bad and suspect.

>>4485831
What were you looking for?

Writing.

>>4485679
>Did we not tell Maddy about what Richter went through, now or when she visited in Sosaldt?
You did, yes. What little you could actually conclude about it at least.

On one hand, there was so much that seemed suspect, or ill advised, but on the other…Maddalyn’s smile was fading with every second that you pondered what to say. She couldn’t have seen your expression, but your silence was speaking plenty clear, evidently. For once, your fiancée was happy and confident about something- could you really trample on that?”
“I won’t pretend I don’t have reservations,” you said carefully, “but with how important this is to you…just be extremely careful, won’t you?”

Despite your caution, Maddalyn’s smile still sank into a frown. “…Of course I’m being careful. I know what happened last, you know…” She sounded hurt, sullen. “What reservations?”

You didn’t want to attack her, but there was more you needed to know about to not feel so off about it all. “There wouldn’t be difficulties controlling them? Since you described the mentally unsound?”

“Oh, no,” Maddalyn brushed that off, “Do you remember how I described the similarity to a Soulbinder’s own enthrallment effect? One can suggest things to their very being, through such a route, but their minds would be composites anyways, ones that can be molded to the right shape.”

That sounded suspiciously like your own conditioning, and you said as much. “Is it…similar to what was done to me, perhaps? What I lost, ” You paused for the right words, “The influence, that I stopped being under when you visited me in Sosaldt.”

Maddalyn blinked. “I don’t think so. When I saw you after you had…that done, or taken off of you, your presence didn’t seem interfered with specially.”

Hm. “This isn’t the only plan, is it?”

“No. It’s only if it comes down to the last resort. If the alliances fail, the diplomacy fails, then it’ll be the last hope. But if it’s ready, maybe we won’t need it…still.”

”Mercenaries won’t do?” you asked, “What if they think the Reich sent reinforcements, since they’re of the opinion that your family would go to them?”

“They wouldn’t go to them,” Maddalyn snapped, “They know that as well as anybody, for all their insults and implications. If we truly went to the Reich’s side, they know that a disguise would be pointless. If the mountains were opened wide, the Reich’s entire army would be around, not just a fresh contingent of soldiers with our seals upon them.”

“How many of them would there be?” you asked next, “There would need to be many of them, wouldn’t there? How many “incomplete” would you need, for how many are wanted? Are there enough for it?” There couldn’t have been that many condemned and insane, after all. Even if they were reformed into people who could be a part of some part of society again.

“Er,” Maddalyn looked down, hesitant, “It’s…not really like that, depending on how it goes. The initial test is for fifty, and we’ll see how they work, and then, we can move to the next stage if it works out, like it really looks like it will. The late stage is…up to fifteen thousand, maybe even twenty. It’s not a one to one production ratio, you see. You can…make more than that from one,” Maddalyn’s lips tightened as she put that fact forth in shakier cadence. “They’d be normal men. They’d eat and breathe and everything else. People.”

You couldn’t help but be struck breathless. Fifteen to twenty thousand? In the grand scheme of things, that was…what, a division? Not a massive amount, but perhaps in a conflict between territories…It was more surprising that one might be able to pull fifteen to twenty thousand from, what she made it sound like, thin air. It was hard for you to follow- and difficult, it seemed, for Maddalyn to actually explain.

“This was what the Hermit was an expert in?”

“Sort of.” Maddalyn answered that quickly, and with no further elaboration at all. The look on her face told that she really didn’t want to speak further on that, either.

“And the project, if it’s a matter of producing many bodies, could you, say, allow a Blaze into-“

“No.” Maddalyn cut you off sharply, then grimaced. “What I mean is, the project is still made from the living. A Blaze was never living. Fundamentally, it’s still two different beings altogether. I suppose a Blaze could overtake them in a possession like any person, but that would disrupt the-“ She shut up abruptly. “…Anyways. The minutiae isn’t important, and you wouldn’t get it anyways. This is all experimenting and theory, and every theory says not to try. I’d rather not experiment inside of experiments.”

“I see.” You didn’t really, and both of you knew it. “You said you were looking for something else while re-deciphering the Hermit’s materials. What were you looking for?”

“Nothing that important. Just something I was confused by.” Maddalyn said flatly, “The sort of philosophy double-speak that could be something or couldn’t be. It was nothing.” Yet it contained a valuable nugget of information? “I…thought you’d be impressed, but you don’t sound happy about it at all.” Maddalyn’s tone grew soft and quiet. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You put your hand around Maddalyn’s back and led her back along. “You don’t need to impress me. You said your father would be proud of you, but he already should have been. If he isn’t proud of you as is, that’s a travesty.”

Maddalyn’s dead silence wasn’t encouraging. You both continued to walk, and you started to head back towards whence you’d came- you had a library you planned to visit with Maddalyn, after all.

This latter part of your traipse through the woods wasn’t the same kind of quiet like before, though. It was tense and uneasy- and you could swear it was making the Fear itch. You had to speak of something.

“I saw Poltergeist and Yva fight after I went back,” you said in a blasé voice, “Poltergeist won.”

Maddalyn stumbled and nearly fell, if you hadn’t been ready to catch her. “What?”

“It was when I had to call in the favor from him. She showed up right after, and…I obstructed her, because I didn’t want them to fight, but-“

“Idiot.”

“Yes. But. I couldn’t really stop them. Poltergeist got the first hit in, and he was able to shred her with a machine gun that he kept…somewhere in his robes. Yva had some wooden arm, that seemed to be…a weapon of some sort? Poltergeist ripped it off of her and took it before leaving.”

“He…didn’t finish her off?” Maddalyn asked quizzically.

“He left her alone after killing her, which…I mean, she came back, but he would have known that. I asked him not to kill her.”

“…Why?” Maddalyn shook her head, “No, it’s better to not even be the slightest bit involved. That wooden arm would have been an artifact, something Soulbinders tend to accumulate as they grow older, more powerful…less and less human. They’re very strong…and the ones who have them have to be strong as well.”

How at risk was Poltergeist then, you wondered once more. He seemed all but invulnerable, but maybe that was just your limited perspective.

“I wanted to save something that shocking for a time when you could be shocked,” you confessed awkwardly. “But I also wanted to ask about something else. Something that does involve us. If you wanted…maybe you’d like to come with me, this time?” It was a tentative question. You didn’t like the idea of putting Maddalyn in harm’s way, at all, but maybe if she expressed interest, you could work out something that kept her safe but, in her view, still able to help you?

Maddalyn was silent. Again. She squirmed on your arm. “Er. I…you’d want me to?” You didn’t need to answer that. “I would, Richter. I truly would, but…the project…” she huddled against you, “I’m sorry…I’m needed elsewhere, if it will be more than this short time. I’m sorry. If you could come with me, then we could be together longer, but…I can’t go. Not this time.”

“It’s alright. I was asking just in case.”

There wasn’t more that sprang to mind as you walked on back, but that was a better note to be thinking on than before. You were intercepted on the way back to the road by a patrolling guardsman, and escorted back to the car. It was in the afternoon, now- you might have had a couple of hours at best at the place you intended to go next, before you’d have to be attending a long anticipated dinner at home, but it wasn’t your last hours in your leave yet.

-----

The thing to come to mind for a place for books to go to with Maddalyn had been Strosstadt’s Ducal Library, but such was a massive place in the heart of town- and it probably wasn’t suitable for anything more relaxed like you intended. Instead, you went to a place closer by, after stopping for recommendations. It was on the very edge of the city, a former Imperial army storehouse, redecorated and turned into a public book house for the locals, curated by a member of local territory nobility. It wasn’t as much a place of study as the Ducal Library would have been, but that was likely a good thing. The Ducal Library wasn’t called, as far as you could recollect, any place a person would go to relax and enjoy themselves, unless they were an intractably obsessive bookworm.

Maddalyn wouldn’t be able to read print, but that was alright. You could take a book out and read it to her elsewhere. You but had to gather a collection…once you had used the Von Blums’ prestigious name to fast-track a library card.

Your fiancée clung to you tightly as, despite the place being only normally populated, there was naught but strangers, in a strange town. You could hardly blame her, given her reclusive nature. It wouldn’t be too long before you’d have her in a much more comfortable place anyways, as soon as you found a selection.

>You had plenty of knowledge that you needed to recover. Maybe just general information would be good to go over, with Maddalyn helping. (Any specifics?)
>Going into the ranks of the Silver Lances without doing what you could to reestablish your knowledge of theory was foolish. Even if it’d probably bore Maddalyn to tears. Brush up on what you’d lost from the Academy days.
>Weren’t you back home for R&R? Get some things that would be fun to peruse. Maybe something shamelessly erotic to stuff in Maddalyn’s ears.
>Other?

>>4486245
>You had plenty of knowledge that you needed to recover. Maybe just general information would be good to go over, with Maddalyn helping. (Refresh on the geopolitics of our next mission, rather than the Silver Lances themselves. Also learn more about The Stross, territorial lords, and anything else Maddalyn thinks we should know about. As her husband we can't be left ignorant about such family affairs.)
Side note, bring up Maddy's sister being up for grabs. Not sure if we ever mentioned Rondo and his potential marriage to Matilda to Maddy.
Also talk about wedding things in general so this won't purely be about study. What would Maddy like to see in her wedding? Get her opinion on folks we would like to invite. How upset would she be if Anya were to be there (I know Anya already said she didn't wanna go, but her reasoning is based around it making Maddy unhappy. I'm still on the sentimental "Anya and the Iron Hogs as extended family" shit, so I feel like at least asking about it.
What about Lord W over in Mittlesosalia or even Signy herself? Would that be politically inappropriate given how instrumental they were in ensuring Maddy got back to Ritcher safely? Hell I'm pretty sure we promised old boy a seat oh so long ago.

>>4486245
>You had plenty of knowledge that you needed to recover. Maybe just general information would be good to go over, with Maddalyn helping. (Any specifics?)
Pretty much this >>4486363 but go hard on the Lords of Strossvald.

>>4486245
>You had plenty of knowledge that you needed to recover. Maybe just general information would be good to go over, with Maddalyn helping. (Any specifics?)
Geography and both local/domestic politics

>>4486245
>Going into the ranks of the Silver Lances without doing what you could to reestablish your knowledge of theory was foolish. Even if it’d probably bore Maddalyn to tears. Brush up on what you’d lost from the Academy days.
Gossip about Rondo's marriage to amuse her if needed.

Our boy Richter needs a thing like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7J33khH0KjY

>>4486363
>>4486498
>>4486517
Re-learn geography and policy, and the courts. Or perhaps just learn about them in general for the first real time.
Talk about tying the knot.

>>4486904
Get back on the study most pertinent to soon anticipated events.

Also, I hear your sister's available. Not for my 2ic, though.

Writing.

>>4486517
>>4487078
Ah shit, I meant domestic and international politics, my bad.

Call it a sense of measured caution, or call it looming dread, but you felt a particular need to acquaint yourself with geopolitics, particularly those of your own country. Knowing more about Strossvald than the immediate basics of its structure and the capital region was something Maddalyn was actually quite able to help you focus your search for, even in this relatively casual book lender. Besides that, there was a drift east, to where you’d be going next. Less about the Silver Lances, and more about where you anticipated you’d be operating. The particulars about Baou and Netilland, for example, were one of many things gone (Baou was…a country, right?), and despite Netilland’s internal workings being somewhat revealed by working with them, Strossvald’s true relation had become murky to say the least. Its international policy would be another thing to clear up in general, though Netilland was probably the best to start with.

Meanwhile, you made small talk with Maddalyn.

“My second in command, Von Metzeler, got engaged recently,” you said as you reached up a shelf to pick out an author Maddalyn named, a biased, controversial but well researched chronicler of territorial lords back to the days before the Archduchy. “

“Mmhm.” Maddalyn didn’t seem very interested in Von Metzeler’s personal life, but you were going somewhere. “To who?”

“The heir to Von Schneeberg, I believe.”

“They own Altossian lands, I believe. An older family. I don’t recall much beyond that.”

“I’m engaged to a more memorable lady for sure.” Now for the actual subject of interest. “He had a selection, though. One was your younger sister.”

“…She is of age now,” Maddalyn said lowly, “But why would she be offered to him?”

“You were offered to me.”

“Yes but,” Maddalyn thought to herself hands held down low in front of her, “…Could it be because…”

“Von Metzeler’s family quirks?”

Maddalyn shook her head. “Maybe, but…I’d rather not talk about her anyways. Did you get the book?”

“From Nauk to Alexander?”

“That one, yes,” Maddalyn tugged on your arm for you to hand it to her, “The first Kaiser did his best to find and purge records of more troublesome families and their branches and ancestries. De Jumelles was commissioned to investigate and rebuild such, not that an obsession required encouragement.”

Emrean, from the way she pronounced that name. Somehow you wanted her to speak that way more, even if your knowledge of the language was restricted to dirty phrases and curses. “So older connections to understand how they evolved, I suppose.”

“To increase your awareness in general as well, but yes. Surprisingly little has changed since this was commissioned near the birth of the Archduchy itself. She ran a hand near imperceptibly over the embossed cover. “There’s a couple more, but you don’t want to spend tonight and tomorrow just studying, do you? I think there’s briefer things to just peek at for other perspectives, and then there’s the things about policy and relation you wanted to look at. I’ll see if I can’t have them bought for you.”

As you scanned about for other names fed to you, you brought up a subject you were more concerned about than any of this. “Have you thought about our wedding?”

“Huh? I…I do so all the time, Richter. Though planning it is something trusted to others.”

“That’s how I prefer it,” you said, eyes glazing at the thought of actually having to be involved in the logistics of it like those without the benefit of a family of high nobility would be, “I’m thinking of attendance, who to invite. Would you mind, for example, if I were to invite my retinue, Anya? May she come?”

“Absolutely not.” Maddalyn’s voice turned frigid, the tone of a sharpened icicle, rooted and unbudging.

Not something to press, not here. “Alright.” For now. Anya was your family, you could argue, but this was not the place for it. “How about Lord Wossehn, from Mittelsosalia? Or the Minister of the People herself, Signy Vang?” Would it be politically inappropriate to invite them, you wondered. It depended on how much of an event the wedding was, but Sosaldt’s reputation wasn’t good in the first place, and you knew that besides being a republican, Signy was also more widely known as the warlord Cyclops, despite her overtures (and presumed efforts) towards lofty-minded democracy.

“Lord Wossehn would be welcome.” Maddalyn said simply.

“And Signy?”

“…”

“Maddalyn.”

“That woman may attend,” Maddalyn said as though it were being wrung out of her, “If you so wish it, but I would rather not associate.”

That would have to do.

-----

With a couple of books borrowed and other smaller, more replaceable ones paid for with Von Blum promissory notes, you and Maddalyn were once more in the back of a car, escorted in front and back by other automobiles. You wanted to waste no time- immediately, you began to peruse a brief guide to internal polities and policies, largely made up of analysis of several Archducal inquiries and investigations into the affairs of territories and forming a unifying standard.

You relayed parts of it to Maddalyn, but she had something else on the mind.

“After we have dinner at your home,” Maddalyn fidgeted, “Will we be…staying there, or will we be, er, retiring to a hotel room? My guards can encamp themselves outside of your home if you would like to stay there, you see…”

Even you weren’t so clueless as to not realize this wasn’t really about the guards, though. Yet there was a hesitance in your fiancée's voice, even so.

>Yes, you’d be retiring to a hotel room with Maddalyn. For convenience, of course.
>Didn’t Maddalyn want to stay around the house? The long evening had plenty of talking and relaxing to get done, after all, and no shortage of restful slumber in the comforts of a house, required.
>Other?

>>4487303
>Wherever Maddy prefers.

>>4487303
>>4487316
>And make it clear we won't judge her for her choice.
Maddy definitely seems like she has the anxious-preoccupied attachment type, so we need to emphasize that we trust and value her in interactions.

>>4487316
>>4487324
This, honestly it should be up to her.

>>4487303
>Other? (Richter would LOVE to retire at a Hotel, but at the end of the day it's Maddy's choice and she shouldn't feel judged for whatever she may pick as >>4487324
says.)

>>4487303
>>4487316
This is fine, she's already said she wants to wait on the spicier side of things. I'd be surprised if she didn't want to see Richter's room...aw shit. Wurst Gurl.

>>4487316
>>4487324
>>4487348
>>4487452
I'll let you choose. No judging. Why are you looking at me like I just said "no you?"

>>4487436
But. I mean. You know.

Writing.

The worry in her voice, but still a request for you to decide- what was the right choice? You knew what you wanted, but…

“Whatever you prefer, my dear,” you said to Maddalyn, with your unhurt left hand on hers, “And whichever you’d like, I won’t judge.”

“Richter,” Maddalyn said crossly, “I asked you what you want.”

“I would love to retire to a hotel in the evening, but I’m saying that what you want-“

“Then we’re going there, okay?” Maddalyn’s tone softened, “I am afraid, but…it isn’t as though we have to engage in a particular thing, after all, I just feel like…your home is rather populated.”

Oh, Modest Maddalyn, how far could you be tested? “You had something in mind?”

“Er,” Maddalyn leaned closer, “It felt really good, when you…you know. I’d like that.” You know? The temptation to tease her by asking to elaborate was strong, but she was already nervous. “A-anyways, what was your family having for dinner? You said a Hunter’s Roast? What’s that like?”

“It is a peasant dish,” you confessed, “It’s traditionally made with whatever could be brought back by a hunter, and a blend of spices and fruits and vegetables that more or less go with everything, as far as I know. It varies. The kind I like best, though, has deer, red breasted pigeon and apples as the main ingredients. And onions and other things. It’s served with pasta, I think. Or potatoes. Maybe both?”

“Funny, isn’t it,” Maddalyn said idly, “That your favorite food is a peasant dish. I suppose ennoblement doesn’t change everybody, does it?”

“Well, I-“

“It wasn’t meant to be critical of you,” Maddalyn said quickly, clasping your hand, “It just made me wonder if…” She leaned back and slid down her seat, “You’re suited being a noble at all. The First Archduke did proclaim that there was no shame in labor and service…though I suppose those who came after didn’t take pride in it either.”

“You seem to like this country bumpkin enough.” You said that sorely- the same thing hadn’t come up kindly at the Academy.

“I do,” Maddalyn crawled back onto your side and put a hand on your chest, “I love my country bumpkin, I’m only saying that…you don’t need to try too hard. I would prefer my knight, over a prince.”
You toyed with Maddalyn’s locks of red hair, not sure if you should respond to that in particular, but she was your princess, was she not?

-----

The house was returned to- Father would be home just before dinner, and mother let you and Maddalyn sit in the lounge, going over the new reading material you had. Hilda peeked in once…then promptly left you alone, not even giving the chance to be called over. Maybe she wanted to keep it for dinner, but it wasn’t as though she was forbidden from being with you and Maddalyn- far from it.

“Would you mind if I went and got Hilda?” you asked Maddalyn, “You remember her, yes? I think she’d enjoy your company.”

“Mm. I’d like to talk to her again, and I wouldn’t mind her being around at all, but,” She glanced to the door where Hilda had temporarily appeared then vanished, “If she didn’t come here and sit down herself, maybe she’d like to be by herself for now? I don’t want to force her to come here if she doesn’t want to. We can plan something properly when we eat.”

Yes, maybe you could bring Maddalyn out with you when Hilda could help with your shooting. For now, back to the book. Had Hilda improved her literacy? You hadn’t asked. You probably should, though what you had now was likely above her level of reading anyways.

Back to reading to Maddalyn- dotting it with questions where appropriate. “Von Sudenpente…they’re right next to you. This book says they’re of Emrean blood.”

“That would be De Jumelles’ ego speaking,” Maddalyn said, looking to the ceiling, “Emrean revanchism isn’t nearly what Vitelian revanchism is, but you can go to Delsau and ask around there if they are of the mind of whether or not they are Emrean.”

“So they’re Delsan,” you looked back to the text, “Strossvald hasn’t had much in the ways of anything more than minor conflict with Delsau, right..?”

“You are the one who would know best.”

“Not so these days,” you said glumly. “The chronicler says they muck about in Delsau’s politics. Rather, to quote, they extend a gracious hand to the north to guide the republicans along a moral and enlightened path.”

“Indeed they do. To a point.” Maddalyn said, “They don’t think much of Imperials. Or those with their blood.”

Out of curiosity, you moved forward in the pages. “The Von Blums, of Zeissenberg by blood, and whose ties reach across the mountains?”

“That is not something that applies anymore, of course,” Maddalyn said dismissively, “He may speak of that, but this was a time before Emre was free. Soon after this was written, our familial ties over the border were disowned, and they did they same for us. Not that many have seen fit to append that, it seems.”

“I would have expected Emreans to be more hostile to the Reich than this man is being,” you summarized as you cut through literary fluff.

“It was a different time, before anybody as famous as Anton Ange stirred up anything. The Emreans had more freedom than the Sosalian subjects did.”

Yet still, they rose in revolt eventually. “You speak Emrean. Is that because of your lands’ proximity to Delsau?” Maddalyn nodded. “How many languages do you speak, again?”

“New Nauk, Old Nauk, Emrean, Vitelian, Mountaintongue of a few dialects, I suppose, but that’s something I mostly read rather than hear.”

You could only speak one of those. “You ever think of picking up Caelussian?”

“No,” Maddalyn said flatly, “Why bother? The closest who speak that are the Twaryians, and they’re on the other side of the continent.”

With a frown you returned to the book. If the Twaryians would stay on the other end of the continent, that’d be just fine and dandy. One could only hope.

“…It smells wonderful,” Maddalyn said to you.

“Tell my mother that. Well, her, and Mrs. Lange.” To tell the truth, the latter, older woman was more responsible for ensuring cooking ended well, though your mother had gotten better over the years, apparently. “Mr. and Mrs. Lange are the servants. Mr. Lange was speaking to your guards. Are you sure that they’ll be alright just…camping out there? They don’t want dinner, do they?”

“They’ve made the necessary preparations. Their supplies are in the cars.”

Your mother would have readily made them all dinner. She might have made them snacks and cookies if she wasn’t explicitly told not to. Which she wasn’t, so you supposed those guards would be well supplied tonight.

With Maddalyn prompting you to skip past the more flowery and less necessary information, you made good pace through the book. Some chapters weren’t worth paying any mind to, by her measure. Maybe you’d read through them when you had more time, after coming back- this book was one that could only be borrowed. The call to attend dinner went out, and soon, the family was seated, along with the servants, and Hilda, and…

“Hello,” Maddalyn said with a courteous lightness to her voice, “I am Maddalyn Von Blum, of the Castellans of the Imperial Gate. Who may you be?”

“Those…” you said awkwardly, “Are Mr. and Mrs. Lange’s grandnephews.”

“We came over because Miss Hilda wasn’t outside today!” the elder boy, but eleven years old, chirped.

“Do not be rude to Master Von Tracht’s wife,” Mrs. Lange scolded.

“That’s your wife!?” the younger one, eight or so, said far too loudly.

“Where’s her boobs?” The older one asked.

“I, I’m sorry,” you said to Maddalyn, but she held up a hand.

“It’s quite alright.” A nervous hand to her chest, “Eh, It’s a secret, little boy.”

“Pardon us, my lady,” Mrs. Lange bowed, “They are not used to company such as yours.”

“I…do plan to have children of my own,” Maddalyn said, “I ought to be tolerant of them, shouldn’t I?”

“If you’re too kind to them, my lady, they’ll end up obnoxious.” Mrs. Lange glared at her grandnephews.

The grandchildren were taken with the Langes to eat in the other room- they’d come back after a bit.

Father greeted Maddalyn warmly once more, though Hilda still seemed morose. Better than you have left her, at least, but she had sorrowful eyes on Maddalyn. No hint of jealousy- Maddalyn didn’t know what had happened between you and Hilda. Better that she never know, especially with how defensive she was with Signy whose worst offense was a mere drunken proposition.

“Do you play with the children?” Maddalyn asked Hilda, who had said very little, as you tried not to make your enthusiastic destruction of your helping look like a war crime in progress.

“They wouldn’t leave me alone.” Hilda said as blankly as usual. “They weren’t scared away by my face.”

“You’re very kindhearted.” Maddalyn didn’t address an appearance she couldn’t see anyways.

“Not really.”

“But you are!” Your mother insisted, “The dear won’t hear of it,” she told Maddalyn with a smile, “Er, my lady Von Blum.”

“She accompanied my husband to rescue me, and was wounded trying to protect me when I was abducted.” Maddalyn said, “I have no doubts about Hilda.”

Hilda stared emptily at a half-finished plate, before resuming silently.

“Tomorrow,” you spoke up finally, “Hilda, do you want to take Maddalyn and I out and practice shooting? We can find a range if you’d rather not go to the forest.”

An unenthusiastic reply. “…Sure.”

You talked about how you’d gone out with Maddalyn, if not the specifics- your parents didn’t need to hear about what you did in the forest besides walking through it. The books were met with approval by father.
“It’s certainly time he read something besides a war history, isn’t it, Richter?”

Since the apples had all been bought anyways, Mrs. Lange had made an apple pie with the leftovers. Maddalyn didn’t bother hiding her delight- and you gave yourself a pat on the back for accidentally acquainting her with a fruity dessert again.

After some post-dessert chatting, Maddalyn got up, and tugged on your sleeve. “Richter,” she said softly, “Shall we go?” She looked to your parents, “My husband and I will be…retiring to a hotel for tonight.”

“Hm? Oh!” your mother got up, “You enjoy yourselves then, dears!”

“Mother,” you said with embarrassment.

“Eda,” your father added tolerantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

It was too late. Maddalyn had turned bright red, and mumbled out a farewell before you followed her with a good night, and an assurance you’d be back by morning.

-----

Guards were in the room and in the rooms on its flanks. You were told others were posted outside to watch the exterior of the building- the curtains were closed. Guarding was fine, surveillance by anybody was not.

The room itself was luxuriant, comfortable. A soft, large bed that Maddalyn sat herself on, fussing with her fingers and still residually scarlet. Golden-stained wooden furniture, wood slat walls, even something you’d never actually seen before- a television set, apparently with four channels- opera, national news (a recording done at the same time as the radio broadcast, apparently), and two different film broadcasts.

The hotel hosts knew what rich (well, one of you was rich) couples got up to- part of the presumably great cost of renting a night here included a tall bottle of red wine, with a pair of glasses set on the table with a rose.

Maddalyn was only looking down at her lap, though, and hadn’t said anything. She’d been so straightforward earlier- was she having doubts? Or was she waiting for you to do something? She was still fully clothed, only having taken her shoes off, but she had never undressed before you…you weren’t exactly sure what to do.

>Alcohol helped things along, from your experience with it. Open up the wine- get her at least a little drunk.
>You did still have some contraband with you- a bit of blackflower. Maybe..?
>No point in beating around the bush. Push her down and kiss her silly.
>Other?

>>4488452
>>Alcohol helped things along, from your experience with it. Open up the wine- get her at least a little drunk.
It's complimentary! We'd be fools not too!
Settle down to the more romantic of the two movies and get footsie. No matter what happens this is probably our last chance in a while to relax with her.

>>4488452
>>Alcohol helped things along, from your experience with it. Open up the wine- get her at least a little drunk.

>>4488452
>>Alcohol helped things along, from your experience with it. Open up the wine- get her at least a little drunk.

>>4488469
>>4488550
>>4488554
The true and tested Von Tracht method.
Get her drunk.

Writing.

You didn’t sit next to Maddalyn- you went over to the little table with the red wine. You didn’t know if it was a good brand, or vintage, or anything like that, but a place like this probably wouldn’t give you swill. If it did, then it would rather spoil what you had planned to ease Maddalyn’s nerves. There was a schedule for the television, as well. Operas weren’t your thing- would you be lucky enough for there to be a properly romantic movie on? Not that you’d know it, but the name might as least suggest it. What was on right now…Voyage to the Lost Continent, and Morgenhafen Man. Thank goodness for the little summaries that let you parse that one had romance at all.

“Richter?” Maddalyn called over.

“I’m opening the wine. It’s complementary, we’d be fools not to indulge. Don’t get up, I’ll bring you a glass.”

“Okay…”

You opened the bottle with a soft pop, aided by a corkscrew, and poured one glass half full, then the other, before sweeping them both up and handing one to Maddalyn by the stem. She took it quickly and gulped down half of it before you gently tilted the glass back.

“What are you doing?”

“I…” Maddalyn sputtered, and her eye went back and forth, “I’m…I’m scared, Richter. I’m sorry.”

“Scared?” You sat by her and tried not to do the same thing with your own wine glass, “We have all night. Let’s relax, and enjoy ourselves. How’s the wine?”

“It’s good, but, I guess I don’t really know…”

“There’s a show on the television,” you said, “I thought I’d turn it on to this one called Morgenhafen Man and we could lie down and take in this bottle of wine slowly.” You knew Maddalyn had an interest in electronics- “Have you heard of these? I’ve never seen one. Plenty of reel projectors, but never a television.”

“I’ve heard, but they’re not of much interest to me because…well.” Of course. Blind lady. “Film as a whole hasn’t been my thing. Does this one…have sound?”

“There’s what looks like speakers,” you said, “Let’s find out. Don’t drink your wine so fast, won’t you, dear? You’ll have me at an advantage if you drink more than I.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll tell you what’s happening on the screen, when I can,” you said, as you went forward and switched the television on. The picture was surprisingly clear, though the sound was gritty. The movie was just a little past its beginning, and the main character was giving some sort of narration. You went to pick up the wine bottle as the part easy for Maddalyn to pick up on played.

Morgenhafen- this place glitters like gold to the eye of a tourist and to the eye of a businessman alike. To me, it was just a sunny cliff. I wasn’t here to take in the sights, the beautiful greenery, the blue sea, or the history book of architecture, all of them just as dazzling as the other- and just as boring to me. No, I was here to find somebody; an address, from a locked safe that’d my old man left me. A place to go to at a specific date, a specific time. Who in the world would be waiting?

Maddalyn had finished her glass of wine when you came back…you sighed and refilled it for her. “Do you think we could go to Morgenhafen?” Maddalyn asked, “You passed through East Valsten, didn’t you? Was it a nice place?”

“I don’t know about Morgenhafen,” you said, “but I did pass through these mountains that had a hot springs, and a bath house…it’s only open during certain parts of the year. The whole pass, really.”
“Hot springs…” Maddalyn’s voice trailed, and you twisted her leg around yours and held her close.

Morgenhafen Man’s titular character, though he wouldn’t suggest he had that title for another forty five minutes, was a man looking for purpose. He found a dame, looking for the same thing he was. Of course, the purpose had the same leadup- a mysterious message leading to the same address, at the same date and time. A mystery they set out to solve together.

Maddalyn got the plot beats well enough from dialogue, especially considering the main character narrated so damn much. You elaborated on the places, but not for long, given the movie’s pace at times. It was slow and deliberate, but a lot was said and you didn’t want to speak over it.

The ponderous last quarter of the movie began, the slow buildup to every mystery being solved, but Maddalyn didn’t seem to be paying attention to it as she had drunk about three glasses of wine and had slowed down, but not stopped. She didn’t seem to be paying attention for the better part of the past five minutes, really, as her hand had wandered over to your crotch and slowly ran a finger up and down a particularly sensitive bit. She was well flush with alcohol- you hadn’t drunk as much as her, but you were well woozy with a healthy buzz.

“Richter,” Maddalyn interrupted you as you started to regurgitate a scene’s dressings, “Turn off the television, won’t you?”

You got up, and did, curious. Had she been interested at all? You thought the movie had been interesting at first and then became meandering and boring, but twining your legs together, rubbing her back…well, you might have felt up her thighs just before she put her hand between your legs.

“Finally,” Maddalyn sighed, “I was afraid it’d go on forever.” She touched your lips, and you took that signal to bend down and kiss her, only for a moment. “Riiichterrr,” she crooned needily, “You need to be led by the nose for everything, don’t you? I’m supposed to be the bliiind ooonnnee.”

Her eye had a silly half tilt, and her cheeks were rosy. You shared another kiss, and she giggled.

“Richter, Richter,” she said, her hand still moving as it had been, “Making me wait, always making me wait, aren’t you?”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh huh? Huh?” Maddalyn leaned closer to you, “Then you better do something, huh? Or else I’ll do something to you…I’m gonna do something to you, Richter, what am I gonna do?” She took your hand and raised it to her mouth, “Am I gonna do this,” she nibbled on your finger, then she put your hand between her thighs and rubbed them together, “Or am I gonna do this? Something’s gonna do, it’s all your fault, bringing me here and giving me drinks, you rake. Richter, you’re a rake! My husband’s a rake!”

>Touch her lips
>Touch her thighs
>Take the initiative yourself (To do what? Do be…intentionally vague for etiquette’s sake.)
>Other?

>>4488664
>Touch her thighs
Drunk Maddy really loses all her inhibitions huh

File: 1599641084110 (1).png (520 KB, 888x894)

520 KB PNG

Get laid fucking nerds wtf

>>4488664
>Take the initiative yourself (Push her on back and get a taste of that midget strange.)
>Also get more drinks in you, yah fucking cad. You can't take advantage of a drunk girl if you're both blasted!
It's only respectable the we service the lady first. You know what they say, if the ratio is less than 11:1 you aren't doin it right.

HAVE SEX HAVE SEX HAVE SEX CUM INSIDE THIS IS OUR ONLY CHANCE TO SECURE THE VON TRACHT LINE HAVE SEX NERDS AAAAA

>>4488721
This but no more drinking.

>>4489173
Maddy didn't want to though.

>>4489214
Y-you gonna vote on something she might like, anon?

>>4488698
Based.
>>4488664
>Touch her lips
Loud Maddy is loud

Due to personal events going on, I won't be able to update today. Apologies, but what's going on isn't particularly the mood to be writing this in. I'll be around tomorrow.
Vote's still open though I believe everybody who wants to, has.

>>4488721
Agreed to this but no more wine.
She'll freak out if we try and consummate so let's keep it short of a home run.

Things are better now. Well, resolved, at least. It's all good. I've been taking care of my cat who got very ill quite suddenly, and refused to eat or drink at all. He was old, and there wasn't much that could be done other than to do the best to make him comfortable as possible. He's in a better place now.

I know that might kill the mood here, but I figure I shouldn't just hang this long without letting you all know why.

Anyways, the vote seems pretty clear on what step to take. I'll be writing in a bit.

>>4490424
Oh shit man.
That's tough. I feel for you.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

“You won’t do anything,” you gently pushed Maddalyn down on her back, “Not until I get a taste of you first.” A hand crawled up Maddalyn’s thigh and hooked a finger and thumb around the waistband of her underwear, pulling them downwards…and you saw a sudden flash of alarm on your fiancée’s sweet face. “Don’t worry,” you said with a kiss on her lips, “I remember.” As you slipped her panties off of her ankles, you thought…that dress she was wearing was too nice for it to be spoilt doing this. She was reluctant, but she allowed you to unbutton her dress and help her out of it- in exchange for her implied request for you to remove your shirt, as she tucked a hand under it and felt up your chest. Soon she was in but a pale blue camisole and white stockings up to her thighs- and bare in between. She wore an odd mix of expressions in her look- anxious, but muted by the wine in her blood, overpowered by anticipation.

To say that the sight of her was motivating was an understatement. Judge Above, how blessed were you to have such a creature as her.

Immediately, you pushed forward, her thighs over your shoulders, and gave her a deep kiss on what you knew to be where she was most sensitive. A surprised squeak, and then, as you continued, stroking of your hair and appreciative sighs. Encouragement said too loudly for your liking as you remembered to be more gentle, your hands stroking her thighs and her back, soft and slow. Minutes of this, though the guidance provided was less frequent than before, if it was far more urging…then familiar convulsions, and Maddalyn gripped your head with her hands and legs, as tight as she could.

“Heee!” Maddalyn gasped after you rose from between her legs, her cheeks pink and her arms up, resting by her head. “Haaahh…”

“I’m waiting,” you prompted her.

“O-one moment…” Maddalyn’s chest rose and fell, and her camisole clung tight to her chest- tight enough for inviting prominences to be visible. Too inviting, with your blood coursing where it did, to refuse. “S-stop!” Maddalyn said sharply as you planted your mouth on the center of one of her little breasts, “Not there.”

No showing, no touching. “Sorry.”

“You’d best be,” Maddalyn said sorely as she sat up, and tugged at your briefs, “…What was I going to do again…”

“…Oh, oh!” Maddalyn said as she took hold of your manhood…and crawled atop you, her back against you. Huh? You thought that…oh, she was- “This is something naughty people do when they’re not supposed to be seeing each other, hee!”

The slick of her was pressed up against you, and she shifted back and forth…your sexes touched, and you thought you’d explode right there as Maddalyn pushed her thighs together and rubbed them against one another. Hot, wet, tight yet soft…she wasn’t very skilled, you could tell, but her body was the sort where you couldn’t have cared even if you knew better.

It took her far less time than it had for you, and you were wrung dry with an undignified cry from your throat.

“Richter, Richter,” Maddalyn teased you and hit you softly with the back of her hand, “It’s everywhere!”

“Could you say that a little more quietly…” you said weakly as Maddalyn didn’t allow your member free of that delightful prison she had you kept in, still pressed against your chest. You wrapped your arms around Maddalyn’s waist and…oh, she wasn’t exaggerating.

“Hmmm,” Maddalyn sighed, “I’m going to shower. Don’t follow me in!” She got up on her knees, and you gave her naked bottom a slap to send her on her way. Finally, you could get your hands on that with no obstructions.

Though, you thought as she got off the bed, were you done here?

>Follow her into the shower
>You’d given each other a good enough time. It was time to relax in bed.
>Psyche yourself up. This was only foreplay- you had to take her here, tonight, before you left her again.
>Other?

>>4490505
Time for round two. Then round three, then round four.
And be more loving. Maddy isn't drooling yet.

>>4490505
>Other?
We saw how she tensed up in fear, anything short of the D is a-okay. Cause otherwise she loses her magic, and in some sense from her dad's point of view, her entire purpose.

>>4490541
Oh, she's loosing her spooky powers if she drops the vcard?
what if anal?

>>4490505
>>4490530
This, maybe call out to her and tell her this isn't over. We don't need to hit a homer to have a great night. We can stay at third base all night long and drive her wild....I'm I getting these baseball metaphors right? Does Panzer world even have baseball?

>>4490557
Not ALL of it, but the healing cards, in particular, need virginal blood to activate.

Going to give this just a little longer.
>>4490557
Regarding that, I figure it'd be a good reminder as to what she herself said a while ago-
>“How does that work, anyways?” You wondered out loud, “Does your blood change when you lose your virginity? I’d think normal blood would work just as well, wouldn’t it? Does it have to be your blood, or can you just cut some other virgin and get theirs?”
>“Well yes, it has to be my blood, it’s my presence that I’m working with,” Maddalyn said, perhaps a bit more matter of factly than you’d have liked. “As for if it matters…it *is* sorcery, I don’t think it’s a good idea to question what the texts, and the Hermit, instructed.”

>>4490578
>Does Panzer world even have baseball?
Strossvald doesn't, at least.

>>4490651
>Strossvald doesn't, at least.
What do they have instead?

>>4490656
Variants of bowling and handball. Strossvald isn't really the most sporty country. Also, those are seen as more common compared to the upper class practiced sports of horse racing and tennis.

>>4490679
>Tennis
Hmmm, very interesting.

>>4490691
Alexander would never admit it but Emrean influence stretched further than he would have ever liked in his glorious Reich.

>>4490530
>>4490578
Wear her ragged.

>>4490541
The line to be crossed has been observed, and you're going to drive right up to it.

Writing.

“And where,” you jumped forth and grabbed Maddalyn around her waist “Do you and your chubby bottom think you’re going?” It felt like you blew a pipe there, but your perfect pearl was far stickier than you would have imagined. Well, no matter now.

“Hee!” Maddalyn squealed as you tugged her onto the bed and pulled her into your body, “Riichterrrr, I’m all filthy with you!”

“You’re going to be much filthier when we’re through,” you told her as you bit her ear and reached between her legs, running you’re a finger across her slit.

“Mmm,” Maddalyn crooned, and she turned to try and face you, “…Like this, okay?” She made a motion with her finger, and you obliged her while you twisted your tongue in her ear. For how aroused she was, you’d have thought she’d already been in the shower, and you felt around inside of her until she told you just where to keep. She wriggled against you, making soft, preening noises through closed lips, and her grinding reawakened your loins as well.

You pushed your finger back and forth, lavishing attention on her most sensitive place as well, as you positioned yourself for Maddalyn’s luscious rear to be able to run its way up and down your length…when she cried out, you were fit to burst as well, and did the rest of the movement yourself. With a twist, your manhood ran down the channel of her cheeks another time, and with a sputtering gasp you made Maddalyn’s back as much a mess as her stomach.

“How…” Maddalyn panted, “How much are we going to…”

“More,” you breathed.

“Mm,” Maddalyn turned and pushed herself against your chest, and ran her tongue over you from your ribs to your neck, before you caught her and forced your tongue into her mouth, and gripped your hands around her taut, smooth bottom. Maddalyn’s drool going all over was nothing compared to what was already everywhere in the rank scent of a couple in mad heat, and when the blood returned to your nethers, she noticed readily.

“You know,” you whispered to her, “You haven’t done that other thing to me, yet,”

Maddalyn had sobered up a little, and blinked at you quizzically. You touched her lips, and she seemed to understand…though she started pulling up the bedsheets to cover herself with. With sobriety came the modesty again- you felt the wet warmth of her mouth, uncertain, hesitant, lacking in any experience whatsoever, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way with her.

-----

The lights were out now- Maddalyn was too tired to shower, she’d said, and she was drowsily complaining to you now that your amorous adventure had reached the final of multiple climaxes.

“You could have told me before you did it in my mouth,” Maddalyn said with her head pressed into your chest, “I thought I’d choke, and it tasted so funny I had to spit it out…and you’ve ruined my stockings…”

You wanted to try her thighs again, but with the texture of the stockings. The angle you’d chosen was to be able to feel her silk-wrapped thighs for the entire length of you; that had been the orgasm to finish you off, as you indeed made such a sloppy mess of those fine stockings your lover had to peel them off when you were both through.

“Any other complaints?” you asked as you stroked your fingers across Maddalyn’s rear, her underwear still somewhere on the floor.

“Mmm. No.” Maddalyn settled onto you and twisted a leg around yours- your briefs properly contained you now, and you got as close as two could get. “You had a lot to get out, didn’t you? If you’re like this every night, I think I’ll fall apart…”

You drifted to sleep in one another’s arms, and nothing interrupted that peaceful rest.

-----

Maddalyn was hideously embarrassed when you both woke up at seven in the morning, so much so that she could scarcely speak, and was red in the face. Something must have come over her, as she demanded you get her underwear from the floor, then to not look at her as she went to the bathroom to shower- even more strictly warned you not to follow, and told you to go to another room and shower yourself, as well.

Oh well, you thought as you knocked on a door and were allowed in by a pair of guards, one who was bewildered and the other who was very amused to see you show up in an undershirt and briefs to their door.

Hot water and soap ran off you as you thought about last night. Yes, you sure as hell wouldn’t have done that at home, and not a word of what happened would be breathed there either. You’d spent a good portion of the night with your fiancée’s thighs around your head, and the taste still lingered in your mouth…that probably wasn’t good breath to have, you thought with a wince as you gargled the shower water.

Now you were feeling embarrassed about it. Nope, not a word of this to anybody, no matter who asked or how.

When you returned to your room, Maddalyn was sitting, huddled into herself, at the table where the wine bottle once sat, which was now empty somewhere off in the corner. She was dressed, and was fresh from the shower, from the dampness of her hair.

“I’m sorry, but,” Maddalyn coughed, “I’d never fallen asleep like that before, or woken up like that…from now on, I’d like to be going to sleep in my pajamas.” She looked off towards the bed and made a face somewhere between surprise and distaste. “We really…really did all that, didn’t we?”

“You remember it, right?” You asked hesitantly- you really hoped she hadn’t been drunk enough to not.

“N-no, I do,” Maddalyn said quickly, “And it was…better than I thought it might be. I was scared.”

A reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You needn’t ever be scared with me. You aren’t now, are you?”

“No.” She said flatly, “Just embarrassed. I felt like a doxy, waking up like that.”

>Say nothing further. There was complimentary breakfast downstairs, and if she didn’t want to speak of it, neither did you.
>Tell her that she was exactly as you hoped she would be, last night.
>Well, she’d better get used to that- a cute lady like her, it was impossible not to want to do that to.
>Other?

I regret nothing and everything

>>4490763
>Tell her that she was exactly as you hoped she would be, last night.
>Other? ("A doxy? I'd use other words. A passionate wife? Dutiful lover, maybe? Regardless of what you'd say, whatever you see yourself as, you're mine and I love having you.") I originally would say "Well you're MY doxy" but some extra praise and explanation are definitely necessary to make it sound properly genuine to her ears.
>Other couples would kill to have such a great relationship with their politically arranged significant other. Like seriously, Maddy should honestly be proud, stuffy noble etiquette be damned right to hell.

>>4490763
>>Tell her that she was exactly as you hoped she would be, last night.
Not every night has to be like that, but it always could be.

>>4490763
>Tell her that she was exactly as you hoped she would be, last night.

>>4490763
Supporting >>4490779

I just hope we made Pepe proud of us

>>4490779
>>4490988
You should be proud of yourself! Not every noblewoman wakes up without anything below the waist on!

>>4490900
>>4490929
I needed a lot of medicine after what's happened to me.

Writing.

“A doxy? I’d use other words. A passionate wife, dutiful lover, and no matter what you think, you’re mine, and I love having you. I’m sure that other couples would kill to have what we have,” you said to Maddalyn, “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Waking up in the morning nude below the waist, stinking, grubby and slatternly, is not something I ought to be proud of,” Maddalyn mumbled sorely.

“The stuffy etiquette can be damned, for all anybody will know of it outside this room.”

Your redhead made a discomforted hum, and pouted.

“I’m happy you enjoyed yourself,” you said, putting your hands on your fiancée’s shoulders. She had, for an undeniable fact. “You were exactly what I hoped for last night. What I’d been wanting for so many cold nights, after so much I’ve been through. Not every night has to be like that, but I appreciated that it was what it was.”

Maddalyn raised a palm and held your hand, “So did I, after so long apart, after how I’ve not been there for you…” Her hand ran down yours and touched the ends of your fingers, “I want to tell you…thank you for not going all the way. I would not have stopped you, but…”

“You asked me not to.”

“Yes, but with your family as it is, and your aspirations as they are, I can’t help feeling that, of anybody, what I want for myself is that much worse for you.”

“I can’t have you losing your magic, can I?”

“Huh?” Maddalyn turned her head, “Er, yes. I’m hungry. Can we go downstairs?”

You helped her up, and took the small suitcase that carried your changes of clothes here- and now contained laundry you hoped to sneak in with other clothes. Maddalyn’s legs were bare, and though in the dresses she had that only translated to naked ankles, she sulked nevertheless. She didn’t anticipate having to bring spare stockings, she claimed. Let that be a lesson. What it was and for who, you had to think further to conclude, considering the ups and downs of it.

-----

”Thunderbolt Squadron, this is Storm Lord. All flight leaders, report.”

“Storm Lord, Shrike Leader reporting. Those bastards won’t see this coming.”

“Merlin Leader, reporting.”

“Wrath Leader here, let’s hurry this up already.”

“Fury Leader reporting. Can it, Wrath.”

“Both of you can it. Storm Lord to all flight leaders. Remember your mission as per briefing. Sulphur Squadron have done their bombing run and scared up all the ducks. Fall on the enemy fighters and cut down as many as you can right where all their people can see it. Take their skies away like they’ve taken our homes, beat them above their own ground, show those rotmouths that their air force can’t keep them safe even when we’re at our lowest. All callsigns, do you read?”

“Aye.”

“I read you.”

“We all read you, get on with it.”

“Loud and clear.”

“Activating LSFS System now. Prepare to receive enemy aircraft locations when we enter the combat zone and align your compasses accordingly. All of you are identified on HR-Scope, new contact will be reported upon detection.”

…
…

“Storm Lord to Thunderbolts, contact at Angels Seven, bearing Two-Eighty! Probably fighters coming up. Count roughly ten, easy prey for your K-26s.“
“Finally. Shrike Leader to Merlin, take my right flank. Wrath and Fury above us, try and catch anybody that gets on our tails, if they manage it. Not likely with the energy we’ll be coming in with. The Black Eagle flies once more!”

-----

As you partook in the complimentary (extraordinarily lavish) breakfast that this hotel offered, you realized the date- one day left of your leave, yes, but it was also today that Wladysaw claimed that something would start happening in the territories you left behind. Something to do with Alpha Two, but more assuredly, the ripples coming off of its commencement.

The Von Blum guards formed a not-so-subtle ring about you as fellow patrons. At least, those who hadn’t been outside the building. One came over to you two as you drank morning tea, a dark, bittersweet sort popular in this part of the capital.

“Lady Maddalyn,” the guard said in a low voice, “Last night, there was a singular suspect individual looking about and inquiring after us. They did not appear dangerous, but we believe you should know.”

Maddayn was unperturbed. Or at least, maintained a sturdy appearance of being so. “Such is expected. Thank you, Captain. We will be returning to my husband to be’s home after we finish here. Have your men ready.”

“Right away, my lady.”

After the guard left, you mused to Maddalyn over fried peppered potatoes and onions with cheese, “For a moment there, I thought when he mentioned last night-“ Maddalyn glared at you and you cheekily shut your mouth before you dared go further. “All I’m saying is that you’re quite loud when you have liquor in you.”

“Shush.” Maddalyn picked lightly at her array of chopped fruits and nuts.

It wasn’t something you disliked. Rather, it gave you rather a boost in confidence for her to be so exclamatory when…well.

>Talk to Maddalyn about anything?
Then, for the matter of hanging out with Hilda and getting gun practice-
>Go to a proper range. It might be dull, but it would be the best for proper shooting education.
>Set up something impromptu in the woods. It’d be more enjoyable for all involved, and not so dry for your planned audience.
>Challenge yourselves and go on a hunt. Maybe you could bring back dinner from someplace besides the market, even if Maddalyn wasn’t used to such a thing as hunting.
>Other?

>>4491642
>Set up something impromptu in the woods. It’d be more enjoyable for all involved, and not so dry for your planned audience.

>>4491642
>Set up something impromptu in the woods. It’d be more enjoyable for all involved, and not so dry for your planned audience.
I'd really like to take Maddalyn hunting. I know I'm probably wrong but in my heart I imagine her getting really into it. Not worth spoiling our final day with a unsure bet.

>>4491642
>>Set up something impromptu in the woods. It’d be more enjoyable for all involved, and not so dry for your planned audience.

>>4491642
>>Set up something impromptu in the woods. It’d be more enjoyable for all involved, and not so dry for your planned audience.

Sorry for the wait,

>>4491660
>>4491669
>>4492043
>>4492433
Fun things happen in the woods, to your experience. Though ideally not with an audience.

Writing.

After a brief meal, you and your fiancée were back off towards your home once again. You didn’t have much to say to one another in the back of the car beyond what the general plan for the day was- you both had your own thoughts, presumably. What Maddalyn’s were, you couldn’t say, but you could hope she was still reeling from last night. Rather than doing what you were doing, and pondering uncertainly what would be waiting for you in the coming days. If only you had more than one day left, you thought as you held your fiancée to you with one hand over her shoulder.
Right when you went back in, your mother was doting on your diminutive darling, as much as one could while bowing and scraping in word and act. What a presumption she must have had, you thought as Maddalyn was freshly spoilt with sweet pastries and a tea that you were relatively certain had some sort of medicinal aspect. You could easily assume what sort, you thought with a sigh, going to the lounge. Hilda was there- her lever-action was propped against the couch, with a few boxes of ammunition still in paper wrapping. You took a seat right next to Hilda, and she scooted away just a little as you did.

“Oh. Sorry.” You said, “Morning. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah.” She hadn’t been very talkative at dinner- you hoped she was feeling better today, now that you would take her out with you and Maddalyn. Leaving her as morose as you came felt wrong. Maybe you need to stop trying so hard. “Your mom’s giving her the same tea she gives me.”

“Well, I,” you stumbled over yourself verbally, “I suppose she is.”

“Good luck.” Hilda said flatly. “So you want to go shooting. In the woods, with your wife.”

“Yes. I’m going to need a lot of help, like I said, learning to shoot again…” You opened and closed one hand, then looked to the other, with its incomplete grip. Maddalyn had brought up at dinner how her family knew some talented prosthetics tinkerers, one who could replicate such things as the bending and gripping of individual fingers with mechanisms. It got your hopes up, but there wasn’t any certainty on when you might be able to get something like that. Hopefully, before or soon after you actually went into combat again.

”I can teach her to shoot, if you want,” Hilda suggested, “I don’t know if you have anything small enough for it.”

“We can see,” you said, thinking about it. At the moment, your grand total of weaponry extended to your (the army’s, really, but you “deserted” with it and transitive property of items applied as far as anybody was concerned) Hagen carbine, Hilda’s carbine, and Signy’s pistol she had given you by delivery. None of them were in a light caliber like would have suited Maddalyn. You still had the small bore single shot you had learned on in your younger days, didn’t you? If you could shoot that at twelve years old, surely Maddalyn could. As far as you knew, her vision meant she couldn’t use a scope, but surely she could look down sight posts just fine. Or would it be better to borrow a lighter handgun from somebody? Maybe you could buy a new one for her…

“Those two kids will be coming too.” Hilda added. “They wanted to, and I didn’t want to say no.”

“That’s nice of you.” You said, before adding, “Not that they can touch the guns. Herr Lange would hang me up by my ankles.”

Hilda passed her hand over her stomach, looking down solemnly. “I figure I should get used to children.” Her mouth tilted further down in a frown deeper than usual. “Do you think…I could find a husband.”

“Father said you could,” you said, “and he knows better than I do about anything like that.”

“Hm.” Hiilda kept her eyes cast to her lap, clearly not having much faith in that judgment, but what else could you say?

“Richter?” Maddalyn managed to escape the clutches of your mother, “We’ll be going to the woods, yes?”

“Not as deep as we went in before,” you said, “But yes. Can you keep your guards from crowding us?”

“As long as they’re in a place they can observe,” Maddalyn said, “But I tested my luck yesterday as it was. Today we won’t be able to use my dignity as a weapon, since you’re taking along a friend, and children.”

“We’ll be armed,” Hilda pointed out, “Maybe that will be convincing.”

“…Maybe,” Maddalyn admitted.

“Though we shouldn’t go far into the woods anyways.” Hilda went on, “The morning paper said something strange about it.”

“What’d it say?” you asked quickly- Hilda was reading? The newspaper? That was a fantastic development, even if you weren’t sure how much of it she could understand.

“A person was chased by something large. The constables said to stay out of the woods if you were alone.”

“They must think it’s a Maned Pig then,” you said, “They don’t like encountering groups of people, but they’ll act aggressively towards individuals. They’re solitary and very territorial.”

“So we don’t have anything to worry about,” Maddalyn said with a relieved breath.

“We wouldn’t anyways.” Hilda hadn’t been concerned before, and still wasn’t, “Not from anything like that.”

“You think that it is something else?”

“No.” Hilda replied to Maddalyn, “But if we’re to take those kids along we should be safe as possible. Especially if they get bored and want to wander off. I know a place where we’ll have a good backstop.” She checked the ammunition next to her, “We’ll need more bullets if we want to shoot long. Do you have more.”

“A bit. We can go buy some boxes.” You did remember the local shop here. Would the owner remember you? The man who had it had passed it along to his son just before you went off to the Academy. The gentler clientele was remembered there- they had a decent selection for both recreational sport and a wary middle class man’s self-defense. “Let’s gather everything up. I’ve only one day left here, and I intend to enjoy every minute I can.”

-----

The back of the car had gotten rather tight- Maddalyn was smashed up between you and Hilda, but she didn’t seem to mind much. The temptation to keep squeezing Maddie around her middle was put off. Hilda might have been staving off her feelings of affection, but with how bad off she’d been…you didn’t want to rub this in her face.

“Hilda,” Maddalyn brought up as you were being driven, “I heard last night that…you are pregnant, yes?”

“Yeah.” Maddalyn didn’t know before? You supposed she hadn’t exactly been told, but…

“Who…who is the father? I don’t remember you-“

“I helped somebody kill him.” Hilda said with no emotion, “That’s all that needs to be said.”

“O-oh.” Maddalyn flinched like she’d tripped over a stone, “How does it feel? Being…you know.”

“Feels like crap.” Hilda wasn’t holding back any bluntness on the matter. “I’m not even getting fat yet. Will be soon I think.”

“Oh,” Maddalyn sank back deeper into her seat. You thought, Hilda, please, she hardly needs discouragement…

“But.” Hilda added blankly, “I can’t blame them for wanting to be alive. The worse parts aren’t anything compared to a lot of other things. I only wish they could have had a better mother.”

“Hmm…” Maddalyn huddled in on herself and said nothing, as the car turned, then stopped.

The small slide window separating the front and back compartments was moved aside by a guard up front. “Lady Maddalyn,” the guard not driving said, “We are at the establishment. Two of us will accompany you inside.”

>Get anything at the gun store specifically for Maddalyn?
>Shooting might not be for Maddalyn- you can ask her to try with the small bore single shot, but you won’t force her to learn.
>Other?

>>4494149
>Shooting might not be for Maddalyn- you can ask her to try with the small bore single shot, but you won’t force her to learn.

>>4494149
>Get anything at the gun store specifically for Maddalyn?
Something like a .25 revolver. It's light caliber but can still be used for self-defense. It also has simple controls. It's alright if she doesn't take to shooting, just run through the basics with her and then the gun can serve as a gift and a last resort in case of an emergency.

>>4494149
>>Shooting might not be for Maddalyn- you can ask her to try with the small bore single shot, but you won’t force her to learn.
>>4494158
We can offer but if she doesn't want to carry a gun around we shouldn't stick her with one.

>>4494149
>Get anything at the gun store specifically for Maddalyn

I'd say it's dependant on how much she trusts her magic to protect her.
Ask her what spells she's toting or can do on an emergency.

If shes carrying fireball then she doesn't really need it but if she has nothing to protect herself then she should learn and carry.

As >>4494158
says, if she actually has people who want to kidnap/hurt her then she should have a simple gun on hand.
Obviously this is risky given the fact she is almost blind and her temperament.

>>4494458
She doesn't have to carry it around if she doesn't want to, but she will have it immediately available if she ever reconsiders.

>>4494149
>>4494158
This sounds good!

>>4494152
>>4494458
Somehow this skin and bone midget doesn't strike you as somebody who can handle a firearm.

>>4494158
>>4494750
Get the thing an appropriately sized gat. It's her money anyways.

>>4494515
Arms to be acquired depending on ability of sorcery.

Writing.

“A moment,” you said before the car would disgorge itself onto the sidesteps, “Maddalyn, are you able to keep yourself safe with, your arts?”

“Yes and no.” Maddalyn said, the privacy shutter closed, “They could, potentially, defend my person. The suspicion that might be drawn, and the attention that might garner, would absolutely not, were it required to be used in more forceful fashion.”

“Alright then,” you got up, “Come with us, we’ll get you a gun.”

“Me?” Maddalyn repeated, “A gun?” she looked at her hands, then at you with skepticism sharp enough to cut metal. “I don’t think…”

“They make very small guns for very small people. Like you.” You pinched Maddalyn’s cheek softly, and the uncertainty was replaced with grump. You didn’t literally drag her in by her cheek, but she didn’t want to let you run off after that either.

Straight and to the point, you thought as you entered the gun and ammunition store again. It had changed extraordinarily little, besides more superficial décor. There were posters of a flag and slogans you had never heard of before- some newly recognized nationality or ancestry?

“Hello,” you went to the storekeeper, “I’m looking for a pocket pistol for my fiancée. Something small, maybe a revolver. Do you have anything like that?”

The storekeeper, a stocky man only somewhat older than you with a thin mustache, looked to Maddalyn, then to you. “Damn, she’s tiny. She ever use a gun before?”

“I have.”

“She’s held down a trigger,” you specified.

“Why a revolver and not a derringer?” the man moved down the counter and picked out a few short, small, double barreled pocket pistols, “They’re lighter, can’t be easier to work, fit better in a handbag. Hell, they’ll fit in a stocking just fine.”

A sharp elbow in your side and an annoyed huff from Maddalyn.

“Most women take them for a reason,” the storekeep reached down again, “But if you really want a pocket revolver, I won’t keep you from ‘em.” He looked at Maddalyn, clinging to your sleeve with one hand, “Well, go ahead, missy, pick them up and see how you like ‘em. Remember not to point ‘em all willy nilly, you hear, even if they got no bullets in ‘em.” As Maddalyn picked a derringer up curiously, the shopkeep said to you, “I’d go with automatics myself, but they’re harder to care for, have more finicky parts. Wouldn’t say it matters much in the moment but it can be a pain for people not used to ‘em.”

“How do you, er, open it…” Maddalyn fiddled with a two-barreled derringer.

“Like this, little lady,” the owner pointed to a tab, and pushed on it, “The hammer on that one is two position, to fire one barrel, then you push it the other way to fire the other. That other gun there just fires both of the barrels at once.”

“Uh huh…”

You went and pulled over the revolver. “Try this,” you told Maddalyn. It seemed to have a sleek cover over the hammer- so it wouldn’t get snagged on anything whilst being drawn, you supposed. It seemed about the same caliber as the derringers, which was to say, small, but not as small as your small bore rifle with its just over five and a half millimeter shot.

“It’s heavier,” she muttered as she picked it up, and the storekeeper showed her how to break it open. The front and the cylinder fell forward with the slide of a catch.

“See though,” you said, “It can fire five times.”

“Err…” Maddalyn looked back to the derringers, then to the revolver. “I…this one, then.”

Beyond that, it was only a matter of bringing forth the ammunition, fresh ear protection and target supplies you had come here to acquire in the first place. Hilda was given strange looks by everyone else, but at least she wasn’t walking about insisting on wearing a mask at all times anymore.

-----

The guards and cars, after picking up the Lange boys, dropped you all at an empty campground a few minutes into the woods. Maddalyn convinced the leader of the guards that, again, she wouldn’t need such heavy escort with you and Hilda, but she had a much tougher time of it than before. She looked a little irritable when she was finally through and went over to you and Hilda, and the two boys that tagged along close to Hilda, chattering all the while.

“It’s this way.” Hilda said as she adjusted the strap of her carbine, took a breath and wiped her forehead, before leading onwards.

About five minutes of stepping through tamed woods afterwards, you came to a hollow open space where the trees steadily disappeared, in a gap with furrows of earth within. The collapsed ruins of an old shack lay where they’d been undisturbed for years. This place…you remembered it, though it had never been exciting besides wondering if something was actually under the mess of rotten planks and moss.

When it turned out that the opening act would be instructing Maddalyn how to use firearms, the Lange boys lost interest, once they had helped set things up. They’d wanted to see Hilda’s marksmanship, and had come up with no shortage of challenges based on items they’d brought, but they accepted that they’d have to wait. Albeit, instead of waiting, they’d go play a short ways off, and that was enough compromise for you. The range of topics was better without children around anyways.

Or, perhaps, without men around, as you saw Maddalyn speaking in a hushed tone with Hilda about something that, from how she glanced over, she didn’t want you to hear.

“Try loading it like this,” you said to Maddalyn as you put the revolver, opened, with five of its bullets on the folding wooden table tat had been brought along.

Maddalyn did so, with an uneasy look as she slid a single bullet into each chamber, rather too hesitantly. It was like she was assembling a model rather than just shoving a bullet into a hole.

“It all looks so easy, but it isn’t, is it?” She asked.

“…Yes.” You said wistfully, remembering the movements and instincts of your same body in a different time.

“Does it feel as easy when…” Maddalyn said with stilted delay, “When you shoot a person?”

“There isn’t time to think about that.” Hilda said for you. “You just do it.”

“I…” Maddalyn put the last bullet in then put the gun down, “Don’t know if…I could do that.” She looked up, “I don’t want to give any offense, but, you’ve both…ended lives. How do you…reconcile with that?”

“You’ll know if you do it.” Hilda’s tone was unchanged. "Because if you have to you have to."

“But I have.” Maddalyn stared at the gun, “And I don’t know how…If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine, but…I’d like to know how other people do it, so that I…”

>?
>Say nothing.
>Other?

>>4495046
I'd say go with a variation of what we told Hilda waaay back in the day in valleys of (East) Valsten:
>You put a hand on Hilda’s shoulder, which she hardly noticed. “That rifle is going to take lives to save others. We need it to keep our friends safe, to keep you and me safe. It’s crucial, important. There can’t be any doubts anymore.”

When the only other alternative is to risk losing that precious someone, or have your own life taken then it isn't a matter of how easy it is. It becomes what you must do.

>>4495046
>>4495134
That's a great callback. Good stuff, Anon.

>>4495134
+1

>>4495046
> "When its their lives or yours and your loved ones on the line, the choice gets a lot easier."

>>4495046
I like the suggestions made so far about fighting and killing to protect the people you care about. I think it would be good to temper that idea with a second point that it is also okay to not feel good about having to fight and kill under that justification or maybe any other justification. It is okay to not be okay with the killing of another person, it doesn’t make you weak, and it doesn’t make you a coward.

>>4495134
>>4495149
>>4495184
>>4495221
It's a choice whether you lose or take, and if you know your answer to that choice, there's no other options.

>>4495239
It's alright if it doesn't sound good, it doesn't have to feel good for it to be right.

Writing.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been asked this. Once upon a time, Hilda herself had had doubts about her ability and justification to take a life. She had cited it as being why Maddalyn had been abducted in the first place, with her being wounded for her trouble. Knowing the IO’s involvement in such, you weren’t sure anymore if such was true, but at the time, Hilda had recognized an unwillingness to take the most brutal escalation as a reason for failure.

You doubted Maddalyn would ever have to shoot somebody. That she was asking this felt funny, somehow. She wanted an answer, though, and for once you knew how to try and help her right away.

“When you need to kill somebody,” you said, thankful that the kids had gone elsewhere, “You’re at a crossroads. There’s a decision that needs to be made. Whether to not take a life, or to allow your own life, your friends’ life, the lives of those you love, to be taken from you. I don’t know if anybody would ever take the second choice over the first. It’s not that it’s easy, it’s that it’s what must be done.”

“What must be done…for the lives of those you love…” Maddalyn echoed softly, looking at the gun, “I don’t think that would work for me in the past, but from now on, maybe.” She closed the gun, then opened it again, watched with interest how the action opening caused mechanical claws to extract the rounds in the five chambers. She brushed her fingers against the cylinder, and slowly turned it with a pair of clicks each time it did. There was a glow of interest, there…

“Come up then.” Hilda said from afront, “Over here. Make like you’re getting ready to shoot. Don’t put your finger on the trigger.”

“Sorry,” Maddalyn said as she started to walk up. If the guards were here, they’d have no end of complaints for the brusque speech being used towards a lady. She stood by Hilda, raised the pistol, and…didn’t look proper at all.

“Wait there,” Hilda said as she pushed Maddalyn’s back forward, and her feet apart, “Don’t lean backwards. Don’t be afraid of the gun. Make sure you’re balanced. The gun won’t hurt you as long as it isn’t pointed at you, so don’t give it any ground. You’re in control.”

“L-like this?” Maddalyn asked as she locked up, her shoulders shivering.

“Don’t be so stiff all over.” Hilda looked over Maddalyn’s arms, and pushed them out, “Be tight, not rigid.”

“I can’t help being nervous…” Maddalyn whined.

A time you could help here. “You can do it,” you said as you put your hands lightly on your fiancée’s shoulders. She relaxed just a little. “Try that nearest paper,” you knelt lower and pointed, “Try to hit it right in the middle, look down the sights, and line up the rear posts with the front posts. Shoot when you’re ready.”
Maddalyn paused, and you felt her tense up once more right before the first shot went out with a sharp pop.

“You closed your eyes and looked away.” Hilda evaluated flatly.

“W-well, I,” Maddalyn stammered, “I didn’t know what it’d be like.”

“Try it again now that you know.”

Another sharp pop, right after she tensed her shoulders again. “Did I hit it?” Maddalyn asked.

“No.”

Hilda only looked for a moment- either her eyesight was even sharper than you remembered, or she made the easy guess that Maddalyn wouldn’t be able to hit a single thing at this point in time. You wondered if Maddalyn could properly use the sights- seeing what she saw exactly was impossible, but if her vision was as monochromatic as you imagined it, there was a distinct possibility that the sights didn’t stand out compared to the environment. Applying blood directly to the steel of a new gun offended some deep, forgotten part of you, though.

From the sound of things, there was much basic marksmanship to instill anyways, as Hilda continued her advice.

“Don’t jerk your finger back. Squeeze the trigger.”

“But it’s stiff!” Maddalyn complained. “It doesn’t move that easy.”

“Hand it over.” Hilda said, and when Maddalyn did, Hilda assumed a proper posture, aimed, then cracked off three shots, one after the other. “Hm. You should get used to it.”

“Maybe we should try the rifle,” you suggested as Maddalyn pouted, “We can set up the mat and a block for prone shooting.”

Of course, the single shot small bore was made for novice shooters, and Maddalyn understood its function long before you went over everything. Soon she was laid down on the ground, separated from the cold earth by a mat, the small rifle propped up on a block with a notch in it.

…The eye wandered easily when she was in that position. Maybe what you ought to get her into, you thought as you gave her rump a good, long look, was horseback riding. Not because you thought she might be into it. She was rather short and thin over most of her body, after all, but the important part was getting her into riding breeches. Maybe you could get her to just wear riding breeches without any justification whatsoever.

Hilda cleared her throat next to you, and somewhere a ways off, you heard a tree creaking as though starting to fall. Even the old forest disapproved.

“Right, yes,” you knelt down next to your comely-caboosed lady. “You…push that into your shoulder,” you looked up to Hilda, “Yes?”

“Yes. Rest your cheek on the stock. It’s easier than with the pistol, since you shouldn’t have to hold it up to see through the sights.”

“Anyways. The trigger on that is gentle. Just give it a slow squeeze, and try to relax.” You couldn’t help but think about giving Maddalyn a squeeze as well, but the audience made that temptation more lacking in sense than it already was.

A similar sort of pop, and a puff of dust from the ground ahead. “Did I hit it?” Maddalyn asked hopefully.

“The paper, yes. Not the target.” Hilda said, “It’s something.”

“Aiieee!” a scream from closeby, “Miss Hilda!”

Hilda immediately shot to her feet and unslung her carbine as the Lange boys ran up. “What is it.”

“It’s a beast!” The older one shouted, “A beast in the woods, that way!”

“What kind.”

“A big monster!” The younger one shrieked, “It was big, and angry!”

“We’ll go scare it off.” Hilda said, “Richter. Let’s go.”

You set the pistol in its holster around your waist, and slung your rifle over your shoulder. Hilda didn’t seem concerned, so therefore, neither should you. Even Maddalyn was following along, you noticed, though you didn’t know it was because she wanted to stay close by or if she was just curious. Far be it from you to say her abilities wouldn’t potentially be appreciated.

It was probably just a hog or a bear, not even an aggressive one and more just surprised. Maybe a larger-than-average living stone, whose appearance was particularly nasty to be startled by.

It wasn’t any of those things.

File: tcqscene171.png (789 KB, 900x624)

789 KB PNG

You didn’t…you didn’t know what this was. You’d never seen anything like it in your life, let alone here in these woods, that you’d known since boyhood.
The creature was tall as you or Hilda, and far broader, but it crawled upon its belly, dragging its back about but held up in front by a powerful pair of appendages that ended in knobby, spiked claws. The barbels on its face and chin, its tail, and a general aquatic appearance made it almost look like a catfish, but no catfish you knew had legs, let alone claws, or a nasty maw of ragged, pointed teeth.

As it lumbered about slowly, to face you all, Hilda expressed her own opinion.

“What is that.” Hilda looked at you and said more urgently, “What is that.” She looked over to Maddalyn, presumably with that same question implied.

“No…” Maddalyn said weakly as she stared at the thing.

It…opened its mouth and a low, but clear and throated rumble came from within. ”MA…T.” A croak, a sputter, but strangely level and…structured. ”…YTS…VIR…AA…TAH…” It turned a lumbering stride towards you. ”LAK…VLA…V…TK.

Maddalyn had turned sheet white, paler than she even normally was. Her mouth hung open, a look of fear in her eyes, as she failed to speak a syllable further.

>Was it…talking? Should you try…and talk back..? (What to say?)
>Shoot it. This clearly was a monster, and not to be suffered here.
>Run! It seemed slow, there was no need to take any chances.
>Other?

>>4495418
>Run! It seemed slow, there was no need to take any chances.
Oh Fak!

>>4495418
Seems like Maddy knows what it is.
>Grab Maddy and run.

>>4495418
>Run! It seemed slow, there was no need to take any chances.
Hilda and Maddy should try to run together first. I'm not sure how fast Maddy is or how easy it would be for Hilda to carry her, but they are smart ladies, I'm sure they can figure something out. Richter retreat second and try to keep himself between the catfish and the girls. Bodyblocking mind bullets might not be best way to protect someone but its something. If this thing gives chase and is fast, Richter could probably shoot at it to draw it off to him if it starts getting close.

>>4495418
>>Run! It seemed slow, there was no need to take any chances.
The kids are still around, grab them and leg it

>>4495418
>>Run! It seemed slow, there was no need to take any chances.

>>4495465
>>4495498
>>4495545
The better part of valor is not being attacked by overgrown dixie grill fodder.

>>4495471
Prioritize salvageable women.

>>4495496
Women and womanlets and children first.

Writing.

“Hilda,” you whispered, “Take Maddalyn and run. I’ll be right after.”

“What-but-“ A hint of alarm in Hilda’s voice, but you wouldn’t hear it.

“Go!” you hissed.

Hilda hesitated, but the creature began to pivot further, and she picked up Maddalyn by the waist and pelted back off towards the range, where the kids were.
”…ZVI…MAH…” The creature shifted in the direction Maddalyn and Hilda were going, and you saw the little will-o-wisps, barely noticeable around it, gain in body.

Without a word, you shuffled in between and readied your rifle. Your handgun wouldn’t even scratch this…whatever it was. Squaring up with the thing was utterly unintentional- you just hoped to distract it for a moment, before fleeing yourself.

Graciously, it paused as it seemed to get a measure of you. ”RVI…LAT…SVI…. A near-chanted wheeze.

The flames raced towards you!

Only one actually stuck to you as you turned around and raced away, hearing the scraping and crushing, the thumping upon the earth as you heard it chase after you with hot and ragged breaths. It was quick, but, it was clumsy, and you were running as fast as you ever had in your life.

Your lungs burned and your legs ached, but the creature went from being right behind you, to ten steps away, to…gone. Was it just being sneaky? You slowed and let your back hit up against a tree as you checked whence you came. That thing had been so big that it couldn’t make its way after you without ripping up the ground and knocking against or over trees and detritus. It was…still back there, you could hear it thrashing, but you were away. For now.

That bit of blue flame still stuck to your arm…it wouldn’t shake off, and you accepted it with a grimace. Maddalyn could take care of it, you hoped. It didn’t hurt, in fact, you barely even felt it doing anything whatsoever, but it couldn’t have been anything good. A muttered groan of annoyance, and you jogged back through the woods around back towards where Maddalyn and Hilda would have gone. These woods weren’t so trustworthy as you once thought them to be, if something like that had popped up so suddenly.

“Herr Von Tracht!” a voice called out to you, and the man with the submachinegun and the guard with the rifle ran forth to meet you as you closed towards the range. “Lady Von Blum sent us to get you.”

“Great,” you panted and choked, “There’s…there’s a thing in the forest here. We’ve got to get back to the cars. Is everybody there?”

“Everybody is there.” The submachinegunner said as the rifleman went around back of you, “Let us go immediately.”

The guardsmen went off at a trot that you could keep pace with, and soon enough, you were back at the cars.

“In,” the submachinegunner ordered as he and the rifleman piled into the front of the car, and you were no slower in entering. Only a moment later, the convoy screeched off back towards the road.

Maddalyn was despondent- pale, face streaked with tears, short of breath- she clung to you so tightly you thought your arm might fall off, for a five whole minutes as you stroked her hair, before she noticed the flame clinging to your arm. She reached a hand shaking that shook like the rest of her was, and brought out a cloth tag, bit on her finger, and conjured a shining point upon her finger that drew the flame to it and dispersed it.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded since Maddalyn seemed to have calmed down.

“A-a-a-a…” Maddalyn stammered.

“It was a beast of some sort,” Hilda said, much more composed, “Not another sort of thing.”

“Thank you for taking Maddalyn away,” you said belatedly, “Were the Lange boys alright?”

“They came back here before we did,” Hilda said, “They took your rifle along with them and got in one of the cars.”

You didn’t know whether to appreciate that or declare them brats for taking it. “So long as they’re safe and sound.”

“It was…i-it was…” Maddalyn tried to speak again.

“Shh,” you said as you pet her head again, “Take it easy.”

“I-it was something called,” Maddalyn swallowed, “A…a Devourer. They sleep under the ground, and they’re not ever supposed to come up…unless…unless something wakes them up, something that might attract them more than the presence flowing up from the earth.”

“Like what?” Hilda asked blankly, despite likely not knowing much about presence nonsense beyond the shallowest surface, much like you a while ago.

“Like…” Maddalyn took a breath, “I don’t know. It’s an animal, it can be dealt with by police, or soldiers, or maybe it will go burrow down and go back to sleep on its own. Let’s just…be somewhere else.”

Suddenly, she was being evasive about it. Could you blame her? She did seem quite terrified.

>Press her on that thing, you wanted to know more. (Ask about what?)
>Let it lie. If she didn’t want to speak anymore on it, you wouldn’t spoil your last day any further.
>Other?

>>4495992
>Let it lie. If she didn’t want to speak anymore on it, you wouldn’t spoil your last day any further.
>Tell her we'll talk of it some other time. This seemed too important to just ignore even if it was for just a day and now that Poltergeist is ghostin us she's the only point of info we have.

>>4496026
Second. The Devourer didn't seem that bad anyway. It's probably just misunderstood.

>>4496026
+1

>>4496026
This is fine, maybe just underscore that we WILL be bringing this up again later. It seemed awful interested in attacking her specifically...

>>4496026
>>4496054
>>4496065
>>4496196
It'll be let lie, but not forever. This is rather too suspect.

Writing.

You didn’t pursue it any further. If she didn’t want to speak about it, you wouldn’t spoil your last day any further than being chased by a monster already had done it. Though…

“Maddalyn?” You tested the waters carefully, “I’ll want to know more about this later. Not now, or even today, but at some time. This feels important.” Important was an understatement. Too much was strange about this. That creature seemed more intent on the ladies than on you, and perhaps they would have tasted better, you didn’t know, but that wasn’t the only funny thing. If what Maddalyn had said was true, that thing had been sleeping underneath the ground there for who could even know how long. Yet it chose today to surface? Only a day after you and Maddalyn had walked in the same woods?

Maddalyn didn’t answer you. She just fidgeted with her fingers, until something else was brought up on the drive to the indoor ranges- where no monstrous catfish creatures would be.

-----

January 31, 1933- Mittelsosalia

Lerche was a shithole as ever. Even when it’d been shot up, it was probably an improvement. Every part of it except the mayor’s house was in some state of disrepair, ranging from just being dusty and dirty to being half knocked down. A few people knew and greeted Anya, but she didn’t even look at them.

That mayor’s house was where she was going. That was where her sister worked, made her living. What she called a way of life, but Anya wasn’t naïve enough to believe that just being a servant doing chores was all her sister did for the old shit. Neither did she think being a “hostess” was just entertaining people. She pounded on the door, knowing that her sister would be the one answering. As she did.

“Anya?” Alina said lightly after she opened the door and stepped out, “You’re alright!”

Anya didn’t greet her sister Alina with words when she came out to meet her, stuck in that dumb frilly dress like she’d been for years. She instead unbuttoned a canvas sack, filled with bills, and tossed it on the ground between them.

Alina looked down, and looked back up at Anya with a confused, idiot look, typical from an idiot sister. “What’s this for, Anya? You ought to keep that.”

“I don’t need it,” Anya said, “it’s yours. Take it, get out of this dump. Go anywhere else. Go to Todesfelsen, go to Gusseisenholz, just somewhere the fuck else.”

“Anya…” Alina’s mouth curved down and her eyebrows lifted, “I’m alright. I’m doing well enough with what I have. If you stayed here, we could live together again, I’m sure you could do something around here. Look,” she pointed to the small Republic Army outpost in the middle of town, “You could request to be with the garrison here, I’m sure they’d appreciate just having somebody from here.”

Anya spat on the ground. “I don’t want to be in this shithole, and neither should you. What’s wrong with you? Still in that shack, dressed up in pretty clothes just like those people that had you taken away. Fucking kept woman, is what you are.”

“This shithole, Anya,” Alina kicked the money-full haversack over, “Is where we were born. Where Mother raised us. She left us a home, and each other.”

“That stupid whore didn’t leave us shit.”

“Don’t you call Mother a stupid whore like she was a piece of shit, Anya!” Alina snapped and shoved her finger in Anya’s face, “She kept us fed and clothed, and died so we could live!”

Anya’s brow twitched, and she snarled, “Lot of fucking good it did you, huh? The dope-addict whore’s second bastard becomes a whore in her footsteps. You gonna shit out a kid and tell her to dress fine so she can get fucked up the ass by an old man giving her money to live?”

“I’ve had enough of you calling me a whore, Anya!” Alina shouted back, taking two steps forth so her and her sister were butted up against one another. “You act so above it all, but you were head over heels for an old man yourself! Look at you, that beautiful face Mother gave you, and you fucked it up, for what? A dead man! You’ve got some nerve thinking you’re any better for getting paid to get cut to pieces instead of being paid for companionship! You’re a bigger, stupider whore than I could ever be, you ungrateful bitch!”

WHACK! Anya smacked her sister right across the face. “You watch your dumb slut mouth!” Anya warned, eyes wide and wild.

Whack! Alina slapped her sister right back in the face. “Shut it yourself then, you empty-headed shrew! It won’t make me any less right! Take your money and fuck off like you always do, like you always have! I don’t need to find my home! It’s always waiting here, Anya, no matter how hard you try and look somewhere else for it! You know that, and it’s why you keep coming back here! I’m not going to leave here just so you have an excuse to never come back!”

“EAT SHIT!” Anya screamed at her sister, “This isn’t my home! It’s never been my home!” She shoved Alina back against the door, “It’s nobody’s home. It’s your fucking grave that you’ll sit in until you’re a dead body in the garbage heap!”

“Don’t you-!” Alina slapped her sister once, then again across the face, “Guilt me, with-!”

Any further words weren’t being listened to, as Anya tackled her sister to the ground and the two clawed, slapped, kicked and punched each other on the cold dusty ground. Anya was much stronger- but she held back, while Alina didn’t. They had to be pulled apart by the garrison, and only then did the shouting continue.

“GET OUT!” Alina screamed, “Get out of here, if you hate it so much! Don’t come back, you horrible bitch!”

“YOU get out!” Anya screamed back, tears in her eyes, “Quit acting like I don’t care! Call me ungrateful, who’s ungrateful! Who’s ungrateful!? FUCK! YOU!!”

The soldiers, though assured this was normal by the townspeople who witnessed it, had Anya Nowicki taken to the Todesfelsen prison for disturbing the peace, and battery. Her possessions were confiscated and stored, to be returned upon release. She was in there for only a few hours. Like most prisoners, Anya took the offer of conscription over serving a sentence, even though what had been lined up for her had only been a few days at best.

So be it, everybody involved figured. The mill needed plenty of grist.

-----

You tugged on the pully in the indoor range to return your target to you. Disappointing, as expected, but it was practice. The worst part was that you didn’t even have a grouping- your shots were all over the damn place.

“It’s alright,” Hilda reassured you, “You hit him.”

“Yeah. Twice.”

Hilda pointed to the lower part of the target silhouette. “That shot counts for two.”

“Hah.” You weren’t supposed to shoot somebody between the legs, you’d say, but a hit was a hit. “I hope nobody does the same to me.”

Maddalyn’s guards gave you privacy again- on the condition that nobody else was in the range you were using, and they had the perimeter locked down. At least you didn’t have any Von Blum soldiers potentially nosing in on every joke or sentimental comment. It might have been for safety, but you could understand that Maddalyn really needed time apart from them.

She was morose, right now. “You’ll be in harm's way again all the same, though…” Maddalyn said quietly.

“When did you plan to start, anyways.” Hilda brought up, “Having children.”

“As soon as possible.”

Maddalyn pinkened at your immediate response, and snapped her gaze away.

Hilda noticed easily. “Doesn’t seem Maddy agrees.”

“It doesn’t matter when she will, does it? That’s what I meant.”

“Well,” Hilda looked out towards the range again, shouldering her carbine, “I just thought. I’d like my kid to grow up with…you know.”

“You’re thinking further ahead than I am,” you admitted, looking back to Maddalyn. She kept huddled into herself. “I don’t want to put pressure on my dearest. We have plenty of time, I intend our family to grow large again.”

“…So.” Hilda let her rifle down again, not having shot it, “What do you want first, then. A girl or a boy.”

“Hm?”

Hilda shrugged. “Just asking.”

>You’d appreciate a son first. A strong firstborn to continue the lineage.
>A daughter might be easier for the first time. Not that Von Tracht daughters were ever less feisty than the sons.
>The opposite of Hilda’s child, maybe. Then you could match hers and yours together, hm?
>Other? (No, not “other” gender, smartass)
Also-
>Anything else in particular you want to do with your last day of freedom?

>>4496417
>You’d appreciate a son first. A strong firstborn to continue the lineage.

>>4496417
>You’d appreciate a son first. A strong firstborn to continue the lineage.

>>4496417
>>You’d appreciate a son first. A strong firstborn to continue the lineage.
>Other?
But anything is a blessing. And utterly necessary, if we have any duty to our family, it's to make sure we aren't the last Von Tracht. Even if I have my suspicions why that might be impossible to achieve.

>Anything else in particular you want to do with your last day of freedom?
Maddy is curious about Richter so ask her if there's anything she's wanted to know/see about his home.

>>4496417
>>A daughter might be easier for the first time. Not that Von Tracht daughters were ever less feisty than the sons.
Solely for the purpose of making a Girls und Panzer Commander Quest joke
As for what to do for this last day, I can't think of anything high priority. Maybe go buy some sappy locket or trinket to remember Maddy by, or some books for Hilda that aren't from a boys childhood collection. If there some comforting tea drink or hot chocolate analogue available some could be procured for a nice lowkey night spent cuddled with Maddy beside a fireplace.Hilda can be there too if she maintains a respectful distance

>>4496417
>You’d appreciate a son first. A strong firstborn to continue the lineage.
And we'll name him Leonard

>>4496451
>>4496468
>>4496496
I want a boy.

>>4496719
I don't know if this name is a bit or not.

>>4496548
Gib girl.

Writing.

>>4496496
>Even if I have my suspicions why that might be impossible to achieve.
If you believe these suspicions to be in character, feel free to voice them! It seems like something to be quite concerned about, doesn't it?

>>4496548
>Girls und Panzer Commander Ques
More like Girls No Panzer lmao :^)

>>4496719
>>4496802
Leon, its up to you to continue the Von Tracht lineage!

>>4497230
I'm glad you caught that.

>>4497230
>>4497257
Is it some sort of reference?

File: Dy76flLWsAA-rCr.jpg (197 KB, 1200x1200)

197 KB JPG

>>4497265
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlU76wEc33k

Conked out when I intended to write so sorry about delays.

>100 years later
Okay really now update soon.

“I think I’d like a son first,” you decided, as you put a target back out, “A strong firstborn, to keep the lineage going, though,” You glanced back to Maddalyn, hugging her knees to her chest, “Any child would be a blessing. If I’ve any duty to family, it’s to ensure I’m not the last of the Von Trachts.”

“Guess it’s good to not be picky.”

You put your pistol down and went to get Maddalyn. “Maddalyn, come on over, we barely got you any practice, didn’t we?”

She did get up and do some more shooting, but something was on her mind, distracting her. She did learn, but you weren’t going to force her further if her heart wasn’t in it. The practice was certainly something you needed, but…

It was progressing. Not as fast as you liked, especially with your bad hand. It felt like learning to walk again, or to keep your balance on a bicycle. Unnatural, uncanny, and too slow for your tastes. It was at least getting better, but you’d need plenty of this to be competent again, let alone return to the state you were at before. If it was possible to return to that.

A couple of hours later, you ran out of ammunition. The Lange boys still wanted Hilda to fulfill a few challenges cooked up by them, but Hilda volunteered to go out with them by herself whilst you and Maddalyn went back home for tea. She seemed curious, so, a tour about the home and your past seemed in order, after tea.

The radio was on when you were having tea, and the report from the Palatial Radio News was…interesting. Though you were sitting in right in the middle of it.

”The Defense Council of Netilland has declined to comment upon the situation, but the rebirth of the defeated Ellowian Army, supported by the newly risen state of Mittelsosalia, has been unpredicted. Certainly, an official declaration of war from Mittelsosalia is something not respected by all, as relatively few recognize the nation state as being such, rather than one of many warlord territories in the tumultuous land’s history. Here, we have military analyst, Herr Aton Vreit. What is your opinion of the situation, Herr Vreit?”

”It’s a bold move, but for all the surprise their air raid must have had, I doubt it was particularly destructive. I predict that it was a propaganda move, considering that Netilland’s influence in the north of Sosaldt means that the two Republics cannot simply march into Netilland. Any decisive battles have yet to be fought, and presently, time is on Netilland’s side. It is far too early to decide anything for certain. As far as any were publicly aware, the Ellowian Army was scattered if not nonexistent.”

A sip of your tea. How many were privately aware, you wondered.

”I see. And what of this air raid, again? The Netillans have had no comment of it, does that not say anything?”

“It says they fared poorly, but again, the Ellowians could not have done as much damage as their air force could have in its prime, especially if they had to fly from bases in Sosaldt. I can’t imagine that even with their advanced aerospace technology, they had very much time to operate.”

“It’s strange that they’re talking about this instead of Almizea,” Maddalyn said, cradling in her hands a special honeyed brew mother had given her and not you, “This sounds like it has naught to do with the Archduchy, and it is ill a time to make it something.”

“Perhaps the news with Almizea is slow today,” you suggested, but had significant doubts about that. There couldn’t have been any shortage of things to talk about up there. This was a government sponsored channel. Perhaps this was to ease the people into accepting greater action than merely giving out the Silver Lances? Or was it to direct attention to that when they did deploy?

”Do you believe the Twaryians to the far east may have had any part in this?”

“I do not. They have nothing to gain from Ellowie’s conquest being incomplete. Perhaps they could benefit from Netilland having to deal with multiple enemies, at a time when its army is known to be bloated by expansion efforts, but I doubt that a plan such as this would be concocted by two peoples with such a history of racial rivalry. The Twaryians were Ellowian subjects during the time of Alexander, and were not kindly regarded when their peoples first settled and expanded, either. That said, they cannot think nothing of this, given their alliance with Netilland to dispatch this very enemy…”

Racial rivalry, huh. You looked across the table to your wife, finishing her biscuits. Supposedly, she was of Demimperi- a different race to much of Strossvald, but of a very peculiar sort. A kind way of saying Imperial, but also not. People in Sosalia tended to look rather the same anyways, it wasn’t like there were the races of the far west or the deep southeast here in any appreciable numbers. The most different there might have plausibly been close to here were dusky skinned Zeevitel or far west-tinted Dhegyar.

After tea, you showed Maddalyn to your room. Little had changed since you’d left it, years ago. There was much of your history condensed just in this space, memories all about.

Maddalyn ran a finger down the spines of the books on your shelf. “This is about what I expected…” She looked to the next shelf. “There’s a glass case here. What’s inside it?”

“This?” you pointed to what you thought she was talking about. “Oh, this is…a leaf and seed collection.”

“You collect leaves?” Maddalyn turned her head.

“When I was much younger.” Eight years old to be precise, but you expanded your records over time. “The leaves don’t last, they’re imprints of the green or other colors inside. I wanted to learn all about the world, by exploring it this way.” You picked up the wooden, glass windowed box. There were a few more like this, a complete collection of local flora, even the quite rarely occurring Blackflower, whose sprouts you discovered in a patch in the woods before you knew they were a controlled substance. You used to be quite proud of this set of boxes.

“What about the bird?” Maddalyn asked as her eyes went to big, hen-sized red breasted pigeon at the top of a shelf, “It’s taxidermied?”

“That’s Leonard.” You said, “And yes.”

“…A pet?”

“No. I killed him.”

“Oh, you hunted him, I presume?”

“My first kill,” you said, “With that rifle you were shooting earlier, even. How could you tell he was taxidermied? There isn’t a ghost of a pigeon floating about, is there?”

“Even the long dead have the smallest traces of presence,” Maddalyn said, “Just the smallest bit from when most of it fled away, sticking to its body.”

So there was a ghost pigeon. “Oh, I’ve also got…” Surely they were still under your bed…ah yes. If Maddalyn could be into these, then you’d have nothing to ask of the Judge. You pulled out a few wide, thick boxes. “When my uncle, Heller Von Tracht, inspired me to become a warrior, as my bloodline is, I played with these. You’d be surprised how many still do, in adulthood. This one in particular-“

“I haven’t…” Maddalyn said with her voice breaking as she looked down at the boxes, “I haven’t played a board game since…” She closed her mouth slowly and put her hands behind her back.

“Do you…” you tested the waters, “Want to play one? A few?”

“I won’t be good at it,” Maddalyn muttered, “You don’t mind teaching me? Going easy on me?”

“I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Maddalyn puffed her cheeks at that and kicked your foot, but otherwise was wordless as you let her downstairs to the lounge, where a suitable table was waiting.

-----

Only the first game, did you go easy. It was a mistake. Hilda came back to Maddalyn, inexplicably, utterly destroying you for a second time.

“What’s going on.” Hilda said as she looked over the table and its pieces.

“My Richter is being humbled,” Maddalyn said smugly as she drew a card, “What is this one, Richter?” She showed you- at first, you hadn’t included the cards because she wouldn’t be able to see them, but for the second game, you needed an advantage you could get. Yet you weren’t finding any.

“…That’s the one that gives me a supply shortage in a region…” you sighed wearily.

“Heeee, well, I hope you weren’t planning anything. Do you want to forfeit now?”

“I’ll fight to the bitter end,” you said sorely. “How have you been, Hilda?”

“Your mother got a few books for me. More appropriate things, she said.”

“Can I see?” you asked as you tried not to pay attention to Maddalyn’s ruination of your already teetering fictional country. Hilda showed you the front cover, and you thought you’d choke. “That?”

“Your mother said it was popular with women my age.” Hilda’s tone was flat as she glanced down at My Lover in the Moonlight, “That it was easy to read. What’s with the face you’re making.”
“Nothing,” you looked back down at the game. “I’m just impressed with how quickly Maddalyn’s learned this game.”

“I thought you’d be doing it,” Maddalyn hummed to herself as she picked your pieces away for you, armies withering away from attrition of desertion rather than battle, “Don’t you see it in the way this game’s built? It’s much easier to not do any fighting at all.”

“It’s a war game,” you grumbled with wearing crankiness. “We’ll do Dragoon after this.” That was a game without this nonsense of starving out the enemy instead of having a climactic battle.

“Anyways.” Hilda put the smutty book down, “I got Maddalyn…a gift.”

“Huh?” Maddalyn looked up, just after finishing moving pieces, “A gift?”

“This,” Hilda took a pendant from her pocket- a golden heart on a chain.

“Oh,” Maddalyn drew back a little, “You shouldn’t buy expensive things for me…”

“I wanted to. So there.” Hilda didn’t budge. “It’s a locket. There’s a picture…of Richter inside. I got it from his parents. I thought you’d like it.”

“O-oh.” Maddalyn said that again, and tilted her head at the pendant hanging from Hilda’s hand, before accepting it in her own palm. “I…thank you.”

“It’s…the least I could do…” Hilda said in a gravelly, rough voice. Her eyes were on her feet. “I’m tired. I’ll be upstairs until supper.”

“Rest well,” Maddalyn said, still thumbing the pendant, opening it and looking within, “…Thank you again…”

-----

Dinner passed- conversation was kept plain and pleasant, despite the news now developing about the east, and your knowledge of how you were involved, and how you might be further involved. The main dish was meatballs in sauce with noodles, something Maddalyn had to assure your mother was alright to not have appended by anything fancy. Besides the events in the forest with the beast, which you didn’t discuss, it was a plain day, but not an unenjoyable one. A calm time, before the coming storm.

Maddalyn was allowed upstairs by herself to change into pale blue pajamas, and then to join you in the lounge by the crackling fireplace. The Dragoon game from earlier was left where it was. Maddalyn didn’t like that you paid her back from the other game by immediately wiping the floor with her, and you’d promptly learned she was a very, very sore loser. A soreness that went away with dinner, thankfully, along with a steaming cup of apple cider.

She sat on your lap, with your left hand under her knees, and she lay against you in the light of the small fire as the night grew long. Neither of you had anything to say- you didn’t even realize you were growing drowsy when you’d passed off to sleep, with your fiancée’s breath warming your neck.

You’d have liked a wholesome dream, or a lewd dream, but such was not you were granted.

Darkness, with but a single bright point, for what felt like hours. You felt nothing, besides a small pain in your arm, and a stirring in your loins that was utterly inappropriate for what senses accompanied it. At the end, a single phrase, spoken deeply by many at once just before your eyes opened.

WE SHALL BE ONE.

-----

You awoke, drifted off with Maddalyn laying atop you, then were woken again more suddenly by a knock at the door. Your little redhead was carefully lifted up and put down on the sofa, before you went to the door.

One of the Von Blum guards, ahead of another two flanking a uniformed man of the Capital forces.

“Herr Von Tracht, good morning,” the guard you learned to identify as the Captain saluted you, “A man claiming to have a message for you has arrived.”

Oh. Yes, that, you thought with a sigh. So this was how you were to be fetched. As soon as the sun had risen, before anybody else was awake, save perhaps your father readying for work at this hour. “I’ve expected him. Let him through.”

The man in the immaculate uniform, with a well oiled black mustache and spectacles, golden braiding around his cap, stepped forward with a letter in his hand. A salute to you, in your unkempt and rumpled clothing, your mask off, though your eyepatch, thankfully, finally off.

“Lieutenant Richter Von Tracht,” the man said, “You are being summoned by the Archduchy’s Silver Lances Expeditionary Division, to be assigned to their Reserve Armor battalion." Despite the name, the reserve battalion, you knew, was an active field unit. Simply not one with the front and center name. "I trust you have heard of recent news to the east?” You nodded. “The government-in-exile of the Republic of Ellowie has paid the Archduchy to deploy their finest to their side. For the extent of what has been paid for, or until the conflict is decided, you shall be with the unit. You must come with me.”

“Wait,” you rubbed your face groggily, “Can’t I have a little time?”

The man gave you a grave look. “I know that this is not convenient for you, but the situation is rather urgent. I can allow you but twenty minutes.”

“Geh,” you grit your teeth, “You jest.”

“I do not.”

Much as you’d like to have told him to get stuffed and have a proper morning, what choice did you have? At least twenty minutes was enough for some final farewells, and tea…

>You’ve got a short space of time left to handle whatever you feel you’ve got left to do.

>>4498068
Rough, they don't play around.
Wake folks, I don't think anyone would forgive us if we left without goodbyes.

tanq they didn't give us any restrictions for things to bring right? Might want to see if Hilda/Maddy has anything that could help us.

At the very least GET SOME TEABAGS. Forced to endure coffee again would be too much, even for Strossvald. Maybe a few if those books and handgun.

>>4498072
+1

>>4498068
Supporting >>4498072, but make it a HUGE BOX of teabags. And kiss Maddy goodbye.

>>4498072
Supporting

>>4498068
>>4498072
This and also say bye to Papa and Mama Von Tracht.
Just make sure to get to her last, I suspect her blubbering hug will take up much time.

>>4498072
>>4498079
>>4498136
Get everybody up and bid farewell proper. Ensure the great tea scarcity is never repeated.

>>4498093
Get a huge box of kisses and teabag Maddy. Wait, no.

>>4498344
Save your mom for last.

Writing.

>>4498072
>tanq they didn't give us any restrictions for things to bring right?
No restrictions, you're "above" that, for this.

“Fine,” your shoulders slackened, “Twenty minutes. I’ll be out right then.”

“I’ll trust you to be prompt,” the man saluted, “The car is out front when you are prepared to depart.”

With a nod, you went back in and lightly rubbed Maddalyn’s shoulder until she stirred.

“Mmm.” She rubbed her eye and rolled over, “Mmnnnnn.” For the sake of time and for getting one more feel of it, you went for the surefire method of rousing her. “…Mnn. Richter, stop,” she drowsily batted your hand off until you loosed your hold, then sat up and blinked at you.

“Good morning,” you said, then wrapped your arms around her, “I’m sorry, but I’ve been called for. I have to leave in twenty minutes exactly, to go off.”

“Oh…” Maddalyn’s face fell.

“I’ve time for morning tea,” you said, smoothing out her hair, “I’m going to tell father and get my mother and Hilda up. Wait at the table, won’t you? You can stay in your pajamas.” In all likelihood, most would be in such when they got down. Did Hilda wear pajamas? Maybe she did now. The water was already on the stove, courtesy of father. You’d have to request the house’s entire store of tea once everybody had been given their morning share- if you had anything to say about it, you’d never drink coffee again.

Everybody was down once more, and your suitcases were by the door already. All that needed to be done was to get through your farewells. Mother allowed you all the tea in the house, and you’d not be so fool as to deny her that.
When you reiterated that you were likely going to battle, you wondered if Maddalyn and Hilda might have anything for you- besides Maddalyn allowing you to keep her mother’s scarf. Hilda seemed to think of something, and returned with…her brother’s cloak.

You stared at it as she handed it to you, folded, then looked back up to her. “Is this…alright?” you asked, not sure if you even wanted it. At least it was clean now.

“That cloak…was my father’s before his. He and my father both said it hid you from evil spirits.” Hilda shrugged. “If you want to believe that.”

You looked at Maddalyn questioningly, and she gave the cloak a look, and nodded at you. So there was something strange about it. Would you need to hide from any evil spirits? Maybe.

Ten minutes. Fifteen. Why did time have to race by so fast now?

“Mother, father,” you said to your parents as you put your coat on, “Thank you for being here for me. I’ll come back here again, I promise. I won’t take nearly as long, either.” You gave father a hug, and mother…well, you should have saved that for later, as she didn’t want to let you go, but a gentle reminder was enough for her to be convinced to share. “Hilda, I…take care of yourself.” You advanced with your arms open, but Hilda didn’t meet you in the middle. “It’s fine.”

Hilda hesitated, then stepped forward and allowed you to put your arms around her, even if she didn’t return the motion. Maybe you could touch one another again sometime without any bad memories or unrequited feelings afflicting her.

Maddalyn was not called forward. You scooped her up around her waist and lifted her off the ground, and held her chest to yours. “I’ll be back in time for our wedding this time.”

She had a morose look on her, and you could see a wet trail down her cheek, but she said nothing and touched her nose against yours. Once more, you touched your lips together, softly, chastely. Even if you’d have liked to have really laid into her, that wasn’t how a parting should go.

“A son…right?” Maddalyn said softly as you finished kissing.

“I’ll come back whole and hale. You stay the same.” You put Maddalyn back down. “I’ll see you again.”

With that, you took your cases out the door, to the car waiting to take you. Was this destiny, or duty? Either way, you took heart in that you felt certain that you would return.

-----

The space in the apartment was brightly lit, sparsely decorated. Modernist, some might say, but the Major knew that the Colonel was not one for presumptions. He would say it was ascetic, as a purposeful contrast for the richer things in life, such as the fine mulled wine he had made from an altogether too nice wine to put over a fire. His cloud of wiry white hair certainly was not a restrained fashion.

“So your mission was a success, Major?” The Colonel asked rhetorically.

“We will see.” The Major had forgone her usual long coats in favor of a simple white button blouse and dress pants- the coats were work wear, and the Colonel was critical of wearing that to what was certainly a respite. A simple room warmed by a fire, away from the cold winter. “Though if they were allowing all of my plans to proceed on purpose, I can’t imagine what they might gain. So I don’t think my confidence is misplaced.”

“You’ve never grown out of stubborn overconfidence, I’d say. The energy it gives keeps you young at least.” The Colonel lifted the iron pot from the fire with a pair of hooks and lowered it gently upon the tea table, onto a stand atop a mat. A ladle was beside with the requisite mugs. “Twenty years. Or perhaps twenty one. A long road from a terrible beginning, but are you happy to soon be free from under my wing?”

“I thought I was out from under there six years ago.”

“If that’s what you like to think,” the Colonel chuckled, deep lines on his face creasing. “Your father would be proud of how far you have come.”

The Major didn’t reply to that, crossing one leg over the other as a mug was filled for her and set in front.

“One of the two who you let break away,” the Colonel took his mug and sat upon a stool by the fire, “You arranged for him to be placed with the Silver Lances. I could have done that for you much more easily, you know.”

“Yes.”

“That and how you let him go off, makes a few voices suspect sentimentality.”

The Major picked up her mug. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Less ridiculous than a scant few, including our department leader, suspecting envy.”

“Hah.” The Major drank slowly of the mulled wine, “Not Willen’s worst joke. I’d not have been envious even when I was but a girl. I am envious of whomever had their agents stir up this mess to the north.” She couldn’t have been more sarcastic. “No, I think I’m quite happy where I am right at this moment, thank you.”

-----

“Your crew will meet with you at the unit site,” the capital army officer told you as you were let off at the train station, “As fortune might have it, your tank is on this same train. To make things easy, you and it will both be disembarking at the assembly site.”

The chances that this was a coincidence were practically none, but you accepted this for what it was. Even if the last time you’d taken a single tank with you on a train, it had ended poorly.

“May I inspect it?” You asked lightly.

“Go ahead,” the officer pointed off, “Ten minutes should suffice, be in the passenger car by then. The train won’t wait for you.”

Nothing had the courtesy to these days, you thought as you nodded and went towards the back of the train. The tank was uncovered, unlocked- and the guards allowed you to look at it for what brief time you had after you identified yourself and presented your papers.

Freshly painted Strossvald blue, and cleaner than you’d ever seen it. You ran your hand over your m/32B-finally reunited. It was probably the pinnacle of its kind. Not only did it have the improved armor and gun of the Von Blum model, the experimental protection that repelled any force no matter how great if fed, but it also contained an engine that far surpassed any other in the Archduchy, tinkered upon by one of the finest (and slightly mad) mechanical engineering minds in Sosalia, or so you were told.

>m/32B:
>Armor of Fate- 3/3. Able to ward three minor penetrations, or one major blow
>Hellfire Shells- 2/2. Lifescourge.
>Smitt Engine Mk. II- Stronger and Tougher, Leaner and Meaner

The only time its armor had failed you was when it was struck by a gun that would destroy just about any tank, and even then, you and your crew’s lives had been protected. The Von Blum crest once again adorned the turret’s front plate’s corner. Within, in a subtle compartment as to not be unloaded along with the other ammunition, were the two hellfire shells obtained so long ago, still unused. Hopefully they’d remain that way, despite being potent munitions indeed.

Somehow, as you climbed out again to hurry to the passenger car, you got a strange feeling that something had said it was good to see you again.

You had barely sat down when the whistle blew and the train began to leave the station. Now, there wasn’t any turning back, even if you wanted to. Naught to do but relax, and wait. Wonder what new people you’d meet. Wonder about how Malachi and Jorgen would be doing when you met with them again at the Silver Lances, about who your new gunner and radio operator would be for this.

Another wondering- who had left this deck of cards upon the table. They didn’t look expensive, at least, but they were of the occult sort. Vyemani fortune telling stuff, or something of that nature. Stein would certainly be into that sort of thing.

…The temptation, to draw a card and see what it was…

>The Scion
>The Remnant
>The Rogue
>The Vanguard
>Vyemani were cheap tricksters and their fortune telling was phony. Cards are stupid and these were no different. (No perspective shift)
These cards may not necessarily be for the same people. If you've a solid idea of who they may be, then proclaim them- perhaps the cards will reflect your vision

>>4500565
>>The Vanguard
Reinhold I assume
>>The Remnant
Wielzci would be fine too

>>4500570
>The Scion

>>4500565
I pick The Remnant especially if it's Wielzci

otherwise I think Scion is our boy Von Metzeler and I was gonna say Reinhold as the Rogue.

>>4500565
>The Scion
If it's Metz I want him.

>>4500565
>The Remnant

>>4500565
>The Scion
Time to help Rondo save his marriage!

>>4500565
>The Remnant

>>4500565
>>The Scion
While this is most likely Metzler, I'm hoping its one of the other Strossvald Nobles in Almizea

>>4500565
>>The Scion
The players have spoken, arranged marriages are officially more interesting than armored warfare.

>>4500570
The frontman, or the lastman.

>>4500644
>>4500730
>>4500902
Brush the ashes off, it's time to rise and shine again.

>>4500574
>>4500726
>>4500743
>>4500921
>>4501087
The High House's Heir, though the family is whispered of rather than sung.

Writing.

>>4500921
>I'm hoping its one of the other Strossvald Nobles in Almizea
I'm honestly curious of which one.
I don't know how many people could tolerate properly playing Von Neubaum, you'd have to go all in with that sort of thing.

A card slid from the top of the deck as your hand passed over it, and you turned it over in curiosity. There was a print of a rather abstract figure on the other side- a noble figure armored more with gold and gems than steel, a sword weighed heavily in one hand and a standard borne in the other, its flag trailing about the figure. Around the edge of the card, in scrollwork, was what must have been a flowery explanation of this card, whose name was inconveniently left off of it. Presumably an actual interested person would know this card just looking at the picture.

Aspect of the Lord Warrior, Stand Ye with Duty. Wealth and Fame be Yours, What canst thou desire further?

-----

The third morning at the inn. It was a cozy place in a sleepy town that resided in the lands of Von Schneeberg, called Sangersruhe. The town’s business came from the farm holders and laborers, shipping in both necessities and luxuries on the main road out, but there was little work to be done this season, and few in the way of workers coming in to blow off steam after a hard day’s work in the fields. Some might call it boring, but the calm was welcome.

You are Rondo Von Metzeler, firstborn of your household, though you couldn’t remember a thing about them personally. At first you thought that amnesia might be a blessing, considering what you did hear of your family from Frederick, but what you were finding out now through mere implication made your stomach turn. It was the way you were merely acted towards because of your bloodline.

Most of the local tradesmen and peasantry didn’t know, of course. Neither had any of your comrades during your activity in Ellowie given you grief. No, the disdain was from the nobility, and you had but spoken with Count Von Schneeberg once and learned everything you wanted to know about what he thought of you and your family. Surely, there was some personal grudge somewhere. One made colder because you were going to marry his only child. You avoided speaking to him further on account of his poor health- even if you had to endure the insults without righteous retort, the last thing you wanted to do was push the old sick patriarch into a crisis of wellbeing.

Then there was Klaudia.

She hadn’t said a single word since you’d arrived here. Not to you, nor around you. She was utterly silent, and the only recognition given that you even existed was in the form of nervous glances, worried stares, and an effort to pretend you weren’t around when she was indulging in her hobby of reading. You had asked a servant, who thankfully didn’t fear or spite you (or at least didn’t display such) if Klaudia was a mute. He had answered that, no, while she was a reclusive and asocial person, she was perfectly capable of talking. So she simply was refusing to speak after all.

It would have been grimly appropriate if she did have speaking difficulties, considering the state of your own speech. You struggled to start and end phrases, let alone sentences properly. Your lips didn’t respond when they should have, like you were having to lean to speak again, but no amount of practice was affecting a change. Plenty of that had been had. In an effort to try and get to know your fiancée better, you’d tried talking about things, tried asking questions, even just rambled to yourself.

Nothing had worked, at least, so far. Nothing had stolen away that look in her eyes whenever her eyes passed over you, that look of dread and fear, like she was close to a ravenous beast rather than a gentleman. Did you look threatening? Looks in the mirror had only returned what you already knew. A strong, but tired face. The new asymmetry of missing the lower section of your left arm, even if too often you could swear you could feel your hand and grip your fingers until you reached out to touch something. No matter how you searched, you couldn’t find anything frightening about yourself besides the grotesquerie of a cripple. Something pitiable, even if you loathed such an implication.

Most of all, you were lonely. This hadn’t been how you expected this to go at all. Idle thoughts during breakfast, of Yva’s reassurances. How she’d smile and comfort you, yet, when you thought to return her kindness after her own loss of limb, how she had struggled to summon up true gladness, for your benefit rather than her own. Then she was gone. There, at least, you had your friends, your crew, what was left of them. Here, there was but the residents of the town, who were good natured but recognized a wall of class between you and them. A distancing that you wanted, but couldn’t tell them, to ignore.

The town was pleasant in its own way. The manor, however…you could feel it in your bones whenever you ventured up there. Go away, it said in a voice you could feel like a phantom touching your missing arm, and leave us be.

Maybe if you were somebody else you would have.

Once again, though, you planned on ignoring that whispering in the wind.

Something had to change by today though, and you had to try and plan that out instead of fumbling around again and leaving humiliated by another failure. Where to begin? With what you knew, of course.

Klaudia Von Schneeberg wasn’t a woman most would call comely, modest of bosom and round of face with curly, springy black hair that turned out to be neglected most of the time in a mess of frays and tangles. She cleaned up rather nicely in the photo you still had of her, but that wasn’t her normal look at all. The bookish girl preferred to wear simple, unflattering dresses with a shawl wrapped tightly around her, and if she wasn’t wearing slippers, she was barefooted. Without makeup, her face was splotched in places by red blemishes. Yes, she was dedicated in study, but she was no generalist that merely consumed whatever book was laying about. It was clear that she favored the fields of culture, particularly mythology and folklore, legend and song. She didn’t eat in the Schneeberg’s library room, but an inquiry of the servant revealed that she was fond of sweet cheeses and chocolates.

Her sleeping schedule was extremely irregular, sometimes she wouldn’t wake until afternoon, and other times she had woken very early in the morning and retired to bed just as the sun went down. Her refusal to speak even extended to when you followed her, or accidentally got in her way. She would huddle into herself against a wall, as though you’d trapped her into a corner. When you reached her bedroom door once while attempting to speak to her (you didn’t know she was going to bed- she hadn’t said anything), she had waited uncomfortably outside the door until you realized you were supposed to leave.

Was that enough to do something with? You recalled mystery novels you liked where independent detectives did much with far less. What you had would have to do. It wasn’t as though interacting with women was a mystery to you at all, hell, Frederick had told you that you’d had girlfriends in the past. It was just that, presumably, they hadn’t been utterly unwilling to interact in any way whatsoever.

What to do…if you wanted to get anything too out of the ordinary, you’d have the best luck heading to a larger town down the way, or possibly heading into the closest city by train from there. This was before you would even face her again, and you still weren’t sure what you’d do then…

>Make your plan of attack.

>>4501549
Hmmm this is a real pickle.
What about taking her so far from her comfort zone she's forced to enteract with Rondo. A forced night on the town to a play or movie? Maybe out to dinner after? Since these are both activities where you don't need to talk to eachother it might be something she could put up with and something that might work for Rondo too. Just make sure to tell a servant about it before leaving with the girl so it isn't a kidnapping or something.
Does Rondo know how to draw? Maybe spending time sketching her and making some type of artistic display of non verbal affection.
Last resort is to unironically beg. Just spill your guts out on the floor in front of her and hope the show of emotional vulnerability is enough.
If she's too closed off to even open up to that then it's probably a lost cause at the moment that will take actual months of sitting alone together to fix.

>>4501549
We're a stranger in foreign territory and thus are at a significant disadvantage if we continue to fight alone. We'll need to enlist the help of the locals if we're to succeed. Assuming Klaudia does actually have a somewhat normal girl hidden inside her and isn't always a complete spastic like she seems around us, it's probably the household servants who she grew up around who know her best.

Find whichever servant seems to be closest to Klaudia and force them to help. Demand that they explain why Klaudia is behaving this way towards us, what we need to do to get her to come around, and that they do whatever is in their power to help us do so. We will be holding them personally accountable for our ensuing success or failure.

This is how nobles get things done after all, right? Bullying the commoners and forcing them to work for us? As Klaudia's fiance I think we should have enough authority to boss around/intimidate the servants, since if we're not technically their lord yet we will be soon. Hopefully.

>>4501606
>>4501674
>Force
>Demand
Are you guys daft? Rondo is seen as a representative of a mafia family forcing a girl to marry him by some kind of extortion to get a hold of her fathers lands. And you want us to behave EXACTLY like a scoundrel they think we are? Fucking really?

I don't have a plan (yet, but what you propose is insane and harmful.

>>4501549
Okay, the plan.

First of all, judging by how Klaudia has a "look of dread and fear" whenever she sees us, she has a pre-existing opinion of us, no doubt formed by her father. She also seems really unassertive, so getting her to form her own opinion looks like a monumental task. Simply trying to woo Klaudia won't work. It's very likely we'll have to convince her father first, however hard it may seem.

This guy >>4501674 is right, our only vector of attack seem to be the servants. However, force and demands probably will gain us nothing. Especially since the servants who have the info we need are likely to be the most loyal to the family.

As a step number zero, I propose we try to contact Krause and ask him for help, though we can proceed without him if we have to.

Step one, we identify which of the servants is the most approachable and try to get close to them. We can drink with the gardener, charm a young impressionable maid with our dark countenance, help the cook carry purchases, talk with the chaffeur about cars, whatever. the point is to convince them we're not a bad guy. They might tell us something about the family's situation, but the main info we need from them is who of the servants knows more and how we can approach them.
Once we know more, we can figure out step two.

>>4501549
>>4501606
>>4501772
Wonderful idea. Changing to this.

>>4501549
>Make your plan of attack.
We only have a day, her father knows too much of the family and is too afraid of losing the person he cares most about so trying to convince him with what little time we have won't accomplish much. Really we won't accomplish much in one day at all, but we can set a foundation to build upon when we return.

Trust takes time, someone trying to impress her with wealth or bravado will get nowhere. A simple first step is a small gift like fuzzy slippers in the shape of a minotaur, or whatever local mythical creature and a letter left at her favorite place. Maybe write about learning more about her myths and legends and talk about the ones we've heard about in the Blumlands like the "pretend" Demi-phantom, ghosts in Valsten and the stone idols of Ellowie. Lead off that we're going to try and send more letters to her while we're away and we hope she reads them.
And since Rondo still suffers from the Fear he won't have to worry about misspeaking through paper.

The one consistent theme all ideas have been is changing the perception of Rondo. Anon >>4501772
is right that doing non-evil non-noble chores/favors will at least shake up perceptions so let's start there. If people around the family start opening up, or at least being less suspicious it may be the seeds to blossom for while Rondo is gone. And while this is happening we become her pen-pal.

>>4501784
This is also a good idea and can be done alongside mine.

>>4501549
I like the idea of changing the servants opinion, but I think that it would take some time. To start up some momentum a letter or gift or both should be given asap. The servants seem at the very least not hostile to Rondo given they told him some info about Klaudia already, so I think that they should present anything sent to Klaudia at least initially to avoid coming off as intimidating or threatening.

>>4501674
Get at the servants. Assume you aren't going to marry a spaz.
Insert blueblood joke here.

>>4501772
>>4501782
>>4501784
Try your best to get close to the servants- and change your image through interacting with them.
I'd like to note that you don't actually only have a single day. Von Metzeler isn't on call for mobilization like Richter was, one of the few things a missing arm does for one. It's more a matter of Von Metzeler's pride that he not just walk in and out without any progress. Again. Not that he's been made to retire, Strossvald's martial culture is plenty accustomed to the idea of the officer class soldiering through major wounds.

>>4502258
Buy something- send it along reliable lines of communication.

Writing.

Clearly, you couldn’t rely on being yourself, funny as that might sound. There was the beginnings of an idea, a way to get Klaudia, and perhaps her father as well, to change their minds about what you were. Before any of that, you needed advice. Words of wisdom from one person who’d been with you before and after, and even now was laboring for you. Krause didn’t always know what to do, but you felt that he could certainly help with this.

There was a singular phone in the entirety of the town, in the meeting hall. Permission to use it was given without a second thought, though it took an annoying amount of time to connect you. Hopefully, Krause was in a place he could be called. Yes, you could request your family summon him to take the call…you thought. At least, that’s what Krause had implied, but you didn’t want to reacquaint yourself with your kin just yet, not unless it was absolutely necessary. Such was why Krause had covered for you in the first place.

After going through a chain of operators and connections, you finally got to him. “Hello? Frederick Krause.”

“…Hello, Frederick…it is Von Metzeler…”

“Which one?” he chuckled at himself, “How’s it going? How’s the girl?”

“…Concerning that…” you slurred unintentionally, and shook your head, “…She has not spoken to me. Count Von Schneeberg despises me for some reason, and Klaudia appears afraid of me, so much so that she has refused to say a word. Like I am an imaginary monster that might go away if ignored…it is vexing, though I am not annoyed with them, considering my family…I want your advice on this…”

“Well, you can be pretty scary looking.”

“…I am..?”

“You’re tall and strong, Rondo. Strong features. It’s the sort of scary that women like. I’m saying you can’t help but intimidate her if she’s not used to the attention.”

“…Flattery is unnecessary…”

“It isn’t flattery, for goodness’ sakes,” Frederick’s tone turned a touch critical, “I’m saying it isn’t you. It’s the name.”

You sighed heavily. “…That does not change the state of affairs very much. Am I to convince somebody that I am not who I am..?”

“Not the father and daughter, but their friends, maybe? Met any of them?”

“…I did think of garnering favor with the servants…” They were not actively hostile, at the very least. They spoke with you cordially, though how much of that was manners and how much was because of your class was uncertain. It could have been a matter of either. “…Though I know not of whether their loyalties are such that they would be obstructive…I thought of perhaps helping them with their tasks…”

Krause made an awkward, hesitant noise. “I, uh, don’t think you should try that last thing. Many of their tasks aren’t so simple with just one hand.”

“…I shall try nevertheless…”

”I can’t stop you over a phone. Approaching the servants’ll have to do, won’t it? You going to try and buy any presents?”

“…I thought of slippers, perhaps…”

“Too expensive, even for rich girls.” Krause immediately dismissed that idea, “Slippers? You’re interested in her feet now? You’ve changed more than I thought.”

“…She dresses for comfort.” You didn’t even address the poor humor. “Though you may be right. Such may be difficult to find around this town…”

“Food, Rondo. Something they can’t ignore, no matter how hard they try. My suggestion is to make it anonymous. Mystery admirer’s presents flowing in.”

“…Why..?”

“That’s what you did with Teresa.”

“…Who..?”

“Oh, right,” Krause sounded apologetic, “Never mind. Just try your best…wait a moment, there was another thing. Your folks, er, really want you to…hurry up. If you know what I mean.”
“…Unfortunately for them, I will not be doing that…”

“I thought so. They don’t, though. They’re sending along the Bastard to motivate you.”

“…The Bastard…” you led off, straining to remember where there was naught but a dark void. You hadn’t spoken much of the specifics of your family and their servants with those who had known, after all. Not yet.

“Your half-brother. Younger than you by only a few days. You were born a little early, so you said.”

Those few sentences told a surprising amount. Bastards could not inherit in Strossvald- not unless, that is, they were considered critical to succession by a special court. If that necessity could be declared, and if they were the eldest and particularly competent, or alone, though such was incredibly uncommon of course. You’d denied him his place as eldest, at the minimum.

“Looks like you with longer hair,” Krause continued, “A real son of a bitch, and you and him always wanted each other’s guts on the floor. He set out this morning, they said.”

“…Hm. What would he do to motivate me..?”

“…He’s a real cunt, Rondo. I don’t know what he couldn’t do, just that the only thing that ever stuck to him is unsanctioned dueling. Killed a man in one such.”

“…I’ll keep my eyes open…” you said, though you doubted that even a black sheep of your infamous family could do anything he pleased. If he left this morning though…he could very well arrive within the day. It was time for you to get working, to get acquainted with the staff. To start on the long road towards giving pitiable Klaudia a happy marriage, as was the honorable thing to do.

-----

The servants you talked with, as there were more about in the morning, were surprised that you wanted to socialize, let alone with them. They didn’t turn you down.

Firstly, the chauffer who picked you up was plenty willing to chatter. Mostly about himself. He had been a mail carrier, then a personal courier, and on the way to the manor he told you the interesting tale of how he’d garnered favor by driving the Count to the hospital after he had collapsed inspecting the fields.

“…Interesting indeed. This was the condition he has now..?”

“The same. Poor bloke. Wasn’t as bad then but it’s gotten worse. Hey, we’re here.”

“…Thank you…” you said, but didn’t get out yet, “…You wouldn’t happen to need any help, would you? If I’m to be around here I should do something…”

The chauffeur guffawed at that. “Huh hah! What, you hard on money? Thought you were a highborn.”

“…No, I just want to properly repay-“

“I don’t have much to do these days, kid,” the chauffer was quite casual with that address, “Maybe at the manor, but I gotta be honest, driving you back and forth and has been the only actual work I’ve done for days. Don’t have a pickup scheduled down the road for a few days.”

“…Thank you anyways…”

The groundskeeper and his assistant both balked at you aiding them as well, which was fair. A shovel was a two handed tool, and the light coating of snow had convinced the plants to cease growing. Not that you could use shears either. A prosthetic couldn’t be available soon enough for at least a hook, or something.

Cleaning might have been utterly beneath nobility, but plenty of things were beneath nobility that you’d done. Recently, such had been tasks such as maintenance of the armor, for example. It was unusual, and apparently a source of great amusement to the crews, that all the commanders for your mission in Ellowie had been the strange sorts to socialize with their crews and share in the duties.

The first person you asked about cleaning was a bubbly young white-blonde haired maid, who seemed more interested in having company than help. Good enough. You hadn’t seen her around before, so she must have been one of the early workers.

“You’re Lady Schneeberg’s husband to be?” she asked as you dusted a place that, the maid called Tina said, had always been too high for her to get at without a stepstool.

“…Yes. You say that as though I’ve a reputation…”

“Oh, there’s rumors, rumors I’ve heard! Though this is the first I’ve seen you. I didn’t think you’d be so…tall. And brooding. And mysterious.”

The flirtation was ignored. It didn’t seem anything more than playful anyways. “…I am not much of those save for tall. I have been here for a few days now. I just have not come at this hour seeking work…”

“Yeah, why do you want to clean? It can’t be because you’re bored.”

“…Lady Von Schneeberg will not speak to me, and the Count loathes my presence. I must do something while I am here, at least.” You looked down to the maid, “Do you know why I am regarded so..?”

“Oh, come on,” the maid said, “You can’t know nothing. The guards have a good feeling about you but nobody here hasn’t heard what the Von Metzelers get up to. Black market trading! Murder! Sex slavery! Scandal!”

…Even without memories you were relatively sure your household did not get “up to” notable portions of that list. “…I don’t do any of that…”

“No sex slavery?”

“No!” you snapped, “Especially not that…”

“Mmmm,” the maid frowned, “Well, I heard it was blackmail, but that just sounds so ordinary.”

…Of course, you thought as the corners of your mouth tightened then sank. Blackmail. It had been a choice for you. Not for the Von Schneebergs. “…Blackmail over what?”

“I dunno.” The maid shrugged, “It was a secret, and I haven’t been around very long.” That was about as expected.

“…Do you ever talk to Klaudia..?” You asked hopefully, searching for the elusive side door.

“Uhh, sometimes,” Tina said, “If she’s awake. Usually from last night. I don’t think she likes to talk much when she’s tired, but she’s too nice not to try.”

No such nice words spared for you. Thank you, whomever in your family did this, and then decided it wasn’t worth telling you when they decided you had to choose. Possibly because they knew you’d refuse a blackmail motivated arranged marriage. Should you…should you have known this? Should you have suspected this? What if this was the intent all along, and the choice was just manipulating you into thinking you were acting of your own volition? Damn…damn!

“You alright there?” Tina asked with a quaver in her voice.

“…My apologies. I just thought of something that frustrated me…” Back to cleaning. For a short while, so you could have the maid not be intimidated when you asked this next favor of her. “…When you see Klaudia, ideally today,” you reached into your coat pocket, “Could you give her these..? Tell her they are from a secret admirer…”

The maid took the small, rectangular gift-wrapped box of chocolates in a hand with a skeptical look. “You know, Klaudia doesn’t have secret admirers. She’s nice, but she’s inside all the time and pretty homely on top of that. I don’t think this admirer’ll be too secret.”

“…Don’t worry about that. If you do that for me, I’ll give you this…” A smaller chocolate box, so it couldn’t be mistaken for the maid stealing gifts.

Tina practically squealed over being handed it. “Bribery! Scandal! Oh, I must refuse such temptation, but I can’t stop myself! I’ve been corrupted thoroughly and utterly!”

You had to hope that this was her way of saying she’d cooperate.

-----

It was while you were getting familiar with the Emrean chef, that somebody arrived far earlier than expected.

“So you zee,” the swarthy chef said more to himself than you, “Ze culture of So-salia eez but ze cheap mimic of northern mind and arteztry, ze connard of Zeissenberg’s self-denial. Caché au soleil.”

“Herr Von Metzeler,” a butler tromped downstairs into the kitchen, “There is a man at the gates, requesting you.”

“Honh, but it cannot wait?” The chef asked, disappointed.

“He was quite insistent.”

“…Who could it be…” you muttered, but you felt you already knew.

Yes, outside the gate, in very plain black and grey clothes, was a sight rather unnervingly like looking into a mirror, if the reflection had hair down to the neck, pulled back tightly, and of course, two arms. He had a sword at his side, much like you insisted on even now, but his saber was heavy and large, some sort of old style navy saber from another place- a brutish thing.
“Good tidings, Brother,” the man said, eyes flicking to your left arm stump, “So it’s true. In your fit to get away from your blood, you’ve lost part of yourself. “

“…Why are you here..?” you asked darkly. You didn’t remember this person at all, but you knew they weren’t here for anything good.

“Why? Rondo, my brother,” the man stepped forward with his arms wide and by his sides, “We are kin, even of different mothers, are we not? Isn’t an interest in your wellbeing natural?” He let his arms down, “Moreover, an interest in our family’s wellbeing. Father wanted to check if you have properly attended to business. How’s the wifey doing?”

The strange feeling in your head and heart kept your shoulders slumped still, but you were still the same height as this man. “…Such is none of your concern. You and yours have done quite enough, I believe…”

“Ah ah, no,” the Bastard walked up and put his arm around your shoulder, moving as to walk you along the side of the manor, “That isn’t how it works, and even if what your little friend says about your memory being fried is true, you know, what’s happening. Your head didn’t get fried into idiocy. Right?” He slid his arm off of you, “It’s convenient, isn’t it. Right after you go off on your big adventure, you go on another one without coming home, and now you lose your memory. I would think it’s a trick if you didn’t go along with getting hitched, finally. That and this funny way you’re talking, but let’s see. What’s my name, dear half-brother?”

You stared coldly. “…You are the Bastard…”

“Hah. I have a name, you know.” He waved his finger, “Rondo, Rondo…how could you forget Coda. Coda Von Metzeler, that name that’s ours, yet yours. Anyways, you didn’t answer me. Did you dick the girl yet?”

“I said that such is none of your concern,” your voice rose heatedly.

The Bastard put his hand on your chest and pushed you into the wall of the manor with sudden speed. “Yes it is. That’s exactly why I’m here. I’m giving a friendly reminder, from Father, about why you’re here. You’re not here to show this woman the meaning of love, or to sow the seeds for a happy marriage. Nobody would think that except somebody with their head in their ass, if you’ve even bothered trying to talk, to ask around. You’re here to knock up that shut-in and get the train moving. If you want to have your happy family, work on that later. Final warning. You start on it, or I’ll get started.”

“Take your hands off of me,” you said as you gave the Bastard a spirited push off, and sent him sprawling for the snow. You needed more an answer than that, though…

>What could you do, though? Maybe you could blow off your family for a while, but eventually you’d have to…accept reality, and be able to have Klaudia accept it too.
>Unsolicited dueling, was it? Both of you were no stranger to it, then. You didn’t care if this was your half-brother. Make your challenge. This was an intolerable affront.
>Maybe in the past you’d been enemies. This was a new life, without old memories. Appeal to your half-brother; you’d give him a chance to recant what he said, and you could work together on this. (How? You’ve the feeling that even if you’re particularly convincing he won’t listen…)
>Other?

>>4503402
>Unsolicited dueling, was it? Both of you were no stranger to it, then. You didn’t care if this was your half-brother. Make your challenge. This was an intolerable affront.

>>4503395
I like Tina.

>>4503402
>Other: ask why they specifically need a child and not just a marriage (unless it's something Rondo can deduce)

>>4503402
>Unsolicited dueling, was it? Both of you were no stranger to it, then. You didn’t care if this was your half-brother. Make your challenge. This was an intolerable affront.

>>4503402
>Other?
First, questions. This is the only member of the family we've met so far and I doubt he'll be forthcoming after a duel.

Wouldn't doing the business simply result in a bastard before a proper ceremony? Like I get that the family could lie and just say it's trueborn or whatever but what's the rush here?
Does the blackmail only apply while Klaudias father is alive? Is that the urgency?

Ultimately if he's insinuating that he'll do the business then the only recourse would be
>Unsolicited dueling,
Just make sure to start the pretending to be shaky and unsure, hopefully this will give him a false confidence. Unlike Richter, Rondo can actually fight worth a damn outside a tank.

Also, and this is only if other Anons debate and agree to it, maybe we should offer the position as Heir to the Bastard. It depends on many things, like if there are other Von Metzeler siblings, and he of course could never officially be the lead, but surely he could see that Rondo has no interest in the position and would happily hand it off just to be left alone.

>>4503402
>>Maybe in the past you’d been enemies. This was a new life, without old memories. Appeal to your half-brother; you’d give him a chance to recant what he said, and you could work together on this

>>4503555
>maybe we should offer the position as Heir to the Bastard
Something like this could work, though I wouldn't go as far as offering the position of heir straight away. If the von Metzeler family is as full of schemers and plotters as we hear then Coda clearly isn't busting our balls out of loyalty to the family, there must be something in it for him. Try being frank and explaining that we don't really know who he is and don't really care about our past, but whatever it is he's getting out of this arrangement maybe we can offer him a better deal if he works with us. We don't care about our family or its power, and he's a bastard presumably looking to increase his status. Surely there's room to make a deal there.

And for the Judge's sake please don't duel him, I'm pretty sure he'll just kill us.

>>4503402
>Maybe in the past you’d been enemies. This was a new life, without old memories. Appeal to your half-brother; you’d give him a chance to recant what he said, and you could work together on this. (How? You’ve the feeling that even if you’re particularly convincing he won’t listen…)
Threats and promises methinks. Rondo is willing to cooperate with the families wishes, at least more than he was previously, so they don't need to send the Bastard to keep him from wiggling out of this arrangement. Promise that in weeks time, Klaudia will be wrapped around Rondo's finger, and who can really tell when exactly the deed was done 9 months later. The Bastard gets to sit back, relax, and return to take credit for wrangling the prodigal Von Metzeler. A great deal since if he touches Klaudia he will be returning without the parts that did any touching.

I'm ok with offering him the heir title heirship? if that seems like it would tip the scales to get him to fuck off.

>Final warning.
What is he going to do ? Stab rondo in a lord's house?
I think if Rondo held this long without giving in to his family, they don't have much to blackmail him. Especially if they are forced to send muscleman a second time.
We're out of the country in a day or so, and soon to have friends in high places. I say fuck him, ask the guards to accompagny him outside, he's not your guest.

>>4504332
>We're out of the country in a day or so
Are we?

>Final warning.
What is he going to do ? Stab rondo in a lord's house?
I think if Rondo held this long without giving in to his family, they don't have much to blackmail him. Especially if they are forced to send muscleman a second time.
We're out of the country in a day or so, and soon to have friends in high places. I say fuck him, ask the guards to accompagny him outside, he's not your guest.

>>4503419
Isn't the ring enough? What a pushy family.

>>4503555
What's the hurry?

>>4504136
>>4504154
Try to negotiate, barter with the past you've left behind.

>>4504332
What are you gonna do, stab me?

>>4503404
>>4503419
>>4503423
*Sword Him*

So, procedure seems to be to try and negotiate and reason with what you have- but if you can't get any ground on that, then the only thing you're gonna whip out is on this guy right here.

Counting the vote today, but I won't be updating til tomorrow morning most likely.

>>4504336
>We're out of the country in a day or so
>Are we?
You are not. Von Metzeler was not invited to the Lance Party.

>tomorrow morning
I meant the day after tomorrow's morning it seems.
Soon, I mean it.