So the warm memory fluttered away on the wind, and Signy Vang was left alone again, demanding she be left for a moment to think, but instead, she had drifted into the past. Was she becoming stronger through this struggle? She didn’t think so. She’d only felt weak and inadequate, exhausting herself and fraying under the pressure, only to maintain, to sustain. Maybe the woman she once was couldn’t dream of doing what she did now, but she couldn’t summon pride or satisfaction in herself. Not until, at least, she won.

“Hey,” a brusque, nasal voice coughed from behind, belonging to a woman. It sounded somewhat familiar. The Minister of the People turned her head. “Yeah, you, who else, genius? You called for a motorcycle courier.” Signy had heard the motorcycle come up, but she had been expecting…

“You’re…” Signy turned the rest of the way around, “You’re that mercenary who was with Richter?”

“Retinue,” the scruffy, scar faced little blonde woman corrected, “I’m here now. You needed something done, yeah?”

What was this woman doing here? When Signy had seen her before, she had been in a black uniform, but now she had donned the chocolate brown and black of the Republic. She hadn’t bothered to button the lower half of it, the sort of uniform violation that had been drilled out of most of the Army of the Republic in their training with the Ellowian expatriates.

Signy had received a letter from Richter. It hadn’t been very personable, and Signy still wondered if he’d forgive her for what she felt she’d had to do. That was one thing, but this young woman was clearly his friend, at least, and this mission…

“Hey. What’s the hold up. I even double timed it here. You know how riding one of those cycles fast on this ground feels? Like that motorcycle should have bought me a fuckin’ drink first, at least.”

The insolence caught Signy off guard, but also brought her back down to earth. “Yes. I need you to take a message to the Griffon Company mercenaries about ten kilometers north. We’ve lost radio contact with them, and we need them to divert either their unit or a portion of their forces east. The infantry here is having trouble breaking through, and we need them to come back and disrupt their direct rear, or help shatter them, or else the momentum of this section of the line will falter. We haven’t been able to communicate with them, so we don’t know exactly where they are. You’ll have to find them and deliver this information, and my commandments to them.”

“Alright.” The woman said without hesitation, “They’re the tank boys, right? The other ones, I mean. They can’t be too hard to find.”

“You…” Signy blinked, “They’re far behind enemy lines, the danger is enough that if you don’t want to volunteer-“

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I was told, volunteers only. I’m here.” She held a hand out, “Give it over, I’ll get it done. Save the speech.”

“It’s important that you do this quickly as possible,” Signy iterated again, “That’s a personal request, because the next assault…I will lead it personally.””

The blonde woman squinted at Signy, looked her up and down like she’d said something inexplicable, though she was well shorter than Signy. “You sure that’s a good idea? Pretty sure everybody north of here wants to put a bullet in you.”

A bullet would be a mercy. Signy knew that if she was captured, she’d be humiliated in ways unconscionable. Violated, ruined, imprisoned, enslaved. Signy didn’t know if she’d kill herself like Viska did if she lost, but…she wouldn’t lose.

“They want to put all sorts of things in me,” Signy replied, breathing deep on a cigarette, “That’s why I’m doing this in the first place. They’ll want to come and get me, but they’re the prey here, not the predator.” She handed over the leather-bound dossier, “Hurry, please.”

The scar faced woman shrugged, and took the folder. “Well, don’t fuck up, then. It’d be embarrassing if I got shot or something for this and you got the shit kicked out of you for my trouble.” Not even a good luck? The courier turned around, waved one hand up, then got back on a powerful, heavy engine motorcycle and kicked over the ignition. It churned upon dust as it and its rider sped northwards.

Well. Time for the trap to be baited, Signy thought as she tossed away her cigarette and straightened her coat, ready to return to her field headquarters. She had demanded much of her men, her Republic. It was only right that she put her own head on the line. The Netillians and all who had aligned with them had no shortage of spite for her- and if her fame had done anything, it had sown the idea, intelligence had told her, that the Republic would collapse if she was removed from it. The Minister of the People hoped she wasn’t actually that critical to the Republic, else this plan was…exceedingly reckless. She wasn’t about to back down now, though.

Signy was dangling herself like a piece of fish before an eager cat. Hopefully, she thought, she wouldn’t be chewed to pieces before her enemies’ ambitions were the trigger for their own destruction.

-----

Only today, you, Richter Von Tracht, had been parted from you callipygian fiancée and shunted forth towards what you had long hoped was destiny…though not in the way you had seen in your dreams. Would you look this gift in the mouth, though? Not unless it was also conspiring against you like its givers, but that seemed increasingly unlikely as you met the fellows of your unit, the second platoon of fourth company, of the Reserve Panzer Battalion of the Silver Lances Armored Division, your superior in the platoon being Captain Vehrlors.

“Reserve Battalion” didn’t sound very prestigious, but it was a frontline unit nevertheless. Being the backup to the main effort was still an important task. The main effort being the Silver Lances Armor Regiment and the Panzergrenadier regiment, but there were plenty other parts to the division, including a self-propelled gun detachment, a specialized logistics battalion, armored recon, signals, pioneers, assault pioneers, maintenance, medical, even an anti-aircraft formation and a flamethrower panzer platoon. The Silver Lances were expected to be able to operate entirely on their own, and could be said to be an elite army in miniature- the full list of assets was certainly reassuring to know you were backed up by it.

You had met the two new members of your crew, who would be replacing your gunner and radio operator as they either settled or forgot their issues with one another. Respectively, they were Sergeant Schafer, and Lance Corporal Hausen replacing Soldaten Stein Smitt and Hans Berg. They didn’t hate you, but you’d made a good impression on Schafer’s dog, which would help with the gruff bandanna wearing man. You’d just have to try and smoothen the impact of Malachi upon Hausen’s suspicious sensibilities. There was a culture in the Silver Lances about keeping secrets, hiding things; including one’s face. Malachi had revealed his face to nobody, and you doubted that would change.

“Why do you think he'd insist on hiding his face?” Hausen had asked, and your answer was, since you had already stated you didn’t know, was a scattershot reflection of said lack of knowledge.

A rock of your head back and forth as you thought up of some crap. “It’s some weird Mountainfolk custom, probably? Maybe he thinks showing his face is an offense? Maybe it’s a religious vow, and something best kept between him and the Judge.”

“Mountainfolk aren’t all that keen on the ways of him, I hear,” Hausen’s suspicion didn’t ease.

He must have known more than you did, but you never found out about your mountain man’s beliefs. Nor did you find yourself caring. “Well, maybe he’s just saving his smile for that one special stumpy green haired girl out there.” Though that did remind you of Fie- and the tattoo on her face. A marking signifying a mission, was it? You had to divert the subject. The tank was a good subject, though its more special capabilities had to be kept a secret. Hopefully they wouldn’t be needed, hopefully when they were needed they wouldn’t work in too showy a fashion. There was but one thing to make sure wasn’t messed with. “When my tank gets here, two of the shells in its ammunition stowage are rather different. Those aren’t to be fired except in an absolute emergency. They’re…special chemical shells, that the Von Blums keep because of the Reich right by them.” That ought to be good enough.

“Hrm.” Schafer grunted at that as he sat by the cast iron pot, though there wasn’t anything in it at the moment, “Guess y’ wouldn’t find throwing chemicals at people too tasteful, would ye.”

You reached absent fingers to the burnt side of your face. “…I suppose so.”

It was a distraction enough for Hausen at least. “Hey,” he pointed to your cap, “Since we’ve met, you ought to go and get your clothes changed out once you get the time. People don’t really stick too close to uniform up here, but you ought to at least get the hat if you’re not gonna wear the full black and blues.”

Right, instead of the horsehair tuft, the Silver Lances had a hat with a metal plate on its front, polished, bearing the sigil of the unit- the sigil of your family. Would it be vain to wear such a thing, you wondered absently. Though once you did change uniforms, you wouldn’t be disposing of your Ellowian tanker coat. More than that you’d grown comfortable with it, it was actually nice and warm in this season. It’d be perfectly reasonable to just wear over top of everything else.

“Men.” A voice came from up the line of tanks, and your new crew looked over with a nod. You looked over as well, and saw a white-blonde man in a long, blue woolen coat trudging up. He had a long, serious face, and a set of goggles hung around his neck, below which was a silver round locket on a chain. “You,” he spoke in short and simple phrases, “New recruit?” Though he clearly had competent command over the language. It was like he wanted to avoid expending energy.

A look to his collar told you who he must have been- a Lieutenant-Colonel? “Sir,” you saluted, “I’m Lieutenant Richter Von Tracht. I was called up and arrived here today.”

“Hm.” The Lieutenant Colonel handed you a paper folder, “Preliminary. Your men already know it. Make sure to attend evening briefing too.” He turned and left without another word.

“…Who was that?” you asked your crew.

“His name’ll be on the inside,” Schafer said dully, but Hausen was more willing to just say it outright.

“Lieutenant Colonel Georgen Von Silbertau,” your new radioman said, “Fourth Company’s commander. People don’t call him George or Von Silbertau though. They call him Ladykiller.”

“He has a reputation like that?” you asked, “He doesn’t seem the type.”

“Not that kind of lady killer,” Hausen laughed, with a nervous bent to it, “No, see, some time ago before he was in the Lances, before he was a Lieutenant Colonel, he was a cavalryman on the border with Sosaldt. A blue blood family had their eldest daughter get rebellious, so she ran off and made a bandit gang on the other side of the border. She was a clever girl, I hear, but I only know the bare bones of the story. So one day, after she’s been making tons of trouble, this son of Von Silbertau volunteers to go get this wayward daughter back."

"Everybody was expecting him to come back with her, or seduce her, some pulpy crap. Nah. He rode off with his men and came back way after them, with her head chopped off and in a sack. He went and gave that sack to the representative of her family. Got him in a lot of shit, but he didn’t actually do anything criminal. Name’s stuck for ten years.”

“Er.” You weren’t sure how he wasn’t dead. No family could tolerate such an act as that, by your wager. He must have been skilled to have gotten here, but you hoped that not everybody around you had such a story.

Schafer didn’t have anything to add or comment on regarding that. “’e keeps things short an’ to the point. Good for ‘im. ‘nother name I’ve heard’s the Bloody Bachelor. Never got married, ‘e did. Lieutenant Colonel’s high ‘nough that young things’ll throw themselves at ‘im, so it’s his business.”

You opened the folder you’d been given, and there was a very simple typed paper- addressed to you, from Von Silbertau’s adjutant. There was little said in it. Merely that the government of the Republic of Ellowie had been the commissioners for the Silver Lance’s contract, and that the mission was to fight until Ellowian lands in the possession of the Netillians had been liberated, or when a time period of two months had expired. Either they hoped for a quick war or for things to be on the track to winning in such a period of time. Besides such information on who and what, there was little else besides necessary expansion on who was what and what each condition meant precisely. It felt more like reading a legal document than a briefing, but, you supposed, the Silver Lances had begun life as a mercenary troop, and technically, still were, in a way, though their loaning out was no small investment of money.

“Should I go around and see the other officers, you think?” you asked your crew, “If you will be fine here. I don’t know when my other crew will arrive, but it won’t be within the hour, I’m sure.”

“If you want,” Hausen said, “You’ll get together for the night brief anyways. You’re free until…” he looked at his wrist, “About a couple hours, and a half.”
You checked the page again, and indeed, the time lined up. Did you really need to be hurried out of your home just to wait? That was how things worked, you supposed…

>Stay with your crew, and be there to soften the impact with your own other crew’s arrival. They were who you needed to get to know the most in what time you had, after all. (Discuss what?)
>Go and meet the other Lieutenant-level officers in the platoon. It was only polite, wasn’t it?
>Hunt down the Company Commander again, since he was close. Maybe you could get more out of him than a few words. (Talk about what?)
>Other?

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

>>4550614
>Stay with your crew, and be there to soften the impact with your own other crew’s arrival. They were who you needed to get to know the most in what time you had, after all. (Most memorable battle scenario, Favorite type of woman, what do they do with their time off. Favorite tank they've been in)
We'll hang with the other Lieutenants after the meeting.

>>4550614
>>Stay with your crew, and be there to soften the impact with your own other crew’s arrival. They were who you needed to get to know the most in what time you had, after all. (Discuss what?)
I don't remember the specifics but the Iron Hogs tank tactics differed from Strossvald doctrine. I wonder if the Silver Lances lean more on the conventional Strossvald side of things or if they lean more towards their mercenary side with innovative tank tactics. If there's some maneuver Richter is expected to know but forgot it would probably be a good idea to figure that out now.

Also,
> but you hoped that not everybody around you had such a story.
Richter you killed a woman in cold blood on the side of a road and stole her underthings, I don't think you can judge.

>>4550614
This >>4550659 is good

>>4550605
Don't think for a minute that we don't appreciate the OP picture. It's great

>>4550614
>Go and meet the other Lieutenant-level officers in the platoon. It was only polite, wasn’t it?

>>4550659
>killed a woman in cold blood on the side of a road and stole her underthings
What? When?

>>4550614
>>Stay with your crew, and be there to soften the impact with your own other crew’s arrival. They were who you needed to get to know the most in what time you had, after all. (Discuss what?)
>So how come its just the two of you? What happened to the rest of your last crew?

>>4550762
Back when Richter was trying to get back from having his brainwashing removed he ditched splotch face (rip) and decided to head out on his own with some gun smugglers. After getting ambushed and carrying one of the smugglers on his back he fought off another ambush by some friendly locals and ended up killing the surviving female ambusher. I think the gun smuggler was the one who took the delicates but Richter was the one who used them to barter for medical treatment from a Christmas cake doctor.
Not as bad as I made it sound but you could definitely see how it could look bad if someone didn't have all the info.

>>4550614
>>Stay with your crew, and be there to soften the impact with your own other crew’s arrival. They were who you needed to get to know the most in what time you had, after all. (Discuss what?)
Ask about previous combat experience, most memorable battles, most difficult ones. It'll be useful to know what they they've seen and what they're capable of.

>>4550614
>Stay with your crew, and be there to soften the impact with your own other crew’s arrival. They were who you needed to get to know the most in what time you had, after all. (Discuss what?)

Better to be here incase they demand Malachi remove his mask.
Ask about previous deployments and where the Lancers have been. Ask about the other tankers in our squad.

>>4550638
>>4550659
>>4550761
>>4550769
>>4550805
Chat up your crew. Subjects of fighting, women, tactics, and tanks.

>>4550762
Check out your fellows of rank.

Writing.

>>4550659
>>4550791
>Richter you killed a woman in cold blood on the side of a road and stole her underthings, I don't think you can judge.
Thankfully this is not a story being spread about! Much like the story about how he shot children and fought alongside troops fighting against insurgents utilizing child soldiers.

Whether or not this would be a more deadly rumor than Richter's more frequent habit of entertaining Ellowian bachelorettes is a subject of debate.

>>4550762
I appreciate the appreciation. It should be noted that the material the OP displays, funnily enough, has a chance of not even happening. The last OP image's scenario for example didn't end up going through. What a twist. Though really I guess an OP should be what could happen anyways, not what is going to happen.

>>4550982
Your vote too.

>>4551067
Thanks buddy

>>4551066
I too appreciate the tanksgiving image. Really shows off the curves of the best side of second best girl.

Best to stay with your new crew, you figured, both to find out more about them and their unit, and to soften any impact your crew might have with them when they came around. Just getting used to Jorgen and Malachi’s language difficulties alone was rather an ask of your new crew. Before that, though, you had plenty to talk about- to ask.

“If I’m free, I’d rather learn about you two.”

“Ask Udo then.” Schafer got up, “Gonna be right back. ‘ave to get those rabbits Santo promised.”

“Santo?” you asked Hausen as Schafer walked off.

“Vehrlor’s gunner. He got that name over in Vitelia.”

“Vitelia?” you echoed with a squint. Had the Silver Lances been someplace so far off? It wasn’t like you remembered their history now anyways. “I was going to ask about that actually. Where you two have been, what you’ve done before I came around.”

“Trading war stories already?” Hausen asked, “Nah, it’s normal here. Yeah, it was back around the end of 1931, a little over a year ago. That was a whole deal, just going there, but…eh, I think I want to wait for Schafer to come back for that. You had more than that in you though, right?”

Fair enough. You certainly did. “Your favorite type of woman, for one.”

“Oh, Baldy wouldn’t have gone for that,” Hausen laughed darkly, “His only answer is his wife. I don’t think he even likes her, but the way he acts it’s like it couldn’t be any other way. Two sons, so he says.”

You couldn’t help but let a bit of a sigh escape from you.

“Hey, you’ll make it.”

“No, it isn’t that, I have a fiancée,” you hastily corrected that assumption. The temptation to boast about her was suppressed. Sorry to take a moment of your time, but have you heard of the good news of Maddalyn Von Blum?

“Get out while you still can. No, though, the best sort of woman, trust me,” he made his voice a mock whisper, “Are Paellans. They’ve got the far western blood that sculpts women into their best forms, with enough Vitelian blood mixed in that they’re like strawberries and chocolate given flesh.”

“I suppose I’ve never seen one,” you murmured.

“The best are the courtesans, all of them had interest in us swarthy Strossvalders, but those ones are the cream. They’re well learned, cultured, refined, play string instruments and flute and cook and arrange flowers, demure at all times except when you find them at night and they tug you by the belt. They’re-“

“You talkin’ about whores again,” Schafer scowled, having come back far sooner than expected. “What he won’t tell ye’ is those tastes a’ his cost him five hundred strossmarks. If you’re gonna dump that much money on women, may as well make them settle down. The sorts he’s talkin’ of don’t.”

Hausen shrugged innocently, and changed the subject hastily. “Lieutenant here wanted to know about our trip to Vitelia.”

“Fuck off,” Schafer swore to nobody in particular, “Remind me a’ that. Never want t’ get on a boat again.”

“The contract was from Paelli, way to the west, they’re right up against the Great Gales,” Hausen started off on the recounting of what Schafer already grumbled about. “First thing was to go on down to East Valsten. It was all paid for, so running by the Reich even by sea was gonna be interesting. We couldn’t put the whole unit to sea, of course, so it was just going to be a battalion. This one.”

Indeed, Hausen didn’t have the full idea of how hard it was, by his admission, but both him and Schafer didn’t recall fondly the ordeal of loading even a battalion and it support onto the transport East Valsten had to offer. East Valsten had an impressive and large merchant fleet, you remembered, as technically its possessions included what Valsten held over the ocean to the south and elsewhere, but that didn’t mean they were used to loading and offloading tanks. Schafer’s first experience with the ocean had been thoroughly unpleasant, as had many of the men, who being from landlocked Strossvald, were about as seaworthy as stones. A harrowing experience being tailed by a section of the Kaisermarine and floatplanes dovetailed the experience before they reached waters where the Kaiser’s sailors weren’t bored enough to chase them further.

Schafer been browning rabbit pieces in the bottom of the pot and only interjecting in very short anecdotes. Hausen was the far more eager storyteller, and now was apparently the good part.

“The deal changed as we were sailing over, it seems,” Hausen said, “The Paellans were shit scared, see, of the Revolution going on east of them. The Vitelian Revolution, the civil war still going on. How it was then, the Revolutionaries were besieging the capital, and had been for some time, but their Operation Victoria offensive had ground to a halt. Paelli has the same sort of system with nobility that this Archduchy does. Or a similar one. Their full name is the Confederate Princedoms of Paelli, after all. They didn’t want the Revolution spilling over to them, and how they saw it, though what we call Sudvitel, the Autarchic Kingdom, they were holding out, but they needed a big helping hand- and the Autarch schmoozed them into it.”

“What were you supposed to be there for?” you asked.

“The people north of Paelli thinkin’ of makin’ moves,” Schafer said, “Whole other shitshow. The ships turned right back around and got another battalion.”

“Yeah, what they call the Republican State of Kallec. They’ve the idea they’ll be the next Vitelian Empire or something. Though, what Schafer said. Whole other shit show.”

The Silver Lances contingent that had arrived was just in time to join the Paellan Regential Army, made up of commitments from all of the Princedoms, in smashing into an unprepared and exhausted Revolutionary Army and sending them sprawling back down the country for a straight month. The Capital siege became a siege of its own for stubborn Revolutionary forces who had refused to retreat with the rest of the army, but such wasn’t the battle the Silver Lances had fought. They had practically sprinted north across the country, sending the Revolutionaries into a rout wherever they could find them. Yet their supplies couldn’t keep up with the momentum, and after multiple times where they were isolated without supplies, the commander of the Silver Lances, Major General Goldfolger, had decided that they wouldn’t press further and risk their luck. Just as well, as they were called back as soon as the other section of Silver Lances had arrived- just in time for Kallec to attack Paelli from the north.

“That was in February of last year,” Hausen said, “Maybe we got lucky in a way, because that was right when the Revolutionaries got their act back together. The Paellans tried to make a grand assault to finish off the Revolutionaries at the city of Lapizlazulli, but they…yeah, just weren’t good enough. The Revolutionaries ain’t bad fighters, they were just knocked off their feet. They never stopped being smart or brutal, and the Paellans got their clocks cleaned because they thought the Revolutionaries were weak, instead of just trading ground for time. Right in time for them to not be wanting to eat the sort of losses they did, what with Kallec coming from the north.”

“Our shitshow,” Schafer muttered, “No meaner son of a bitch than a Kallean, lieutenant. You best hope y’ never ‘ave to meet one. They’re Vitelians that smell twice as bad and have all the niceness and civility beaten outta ‘em like threshed grain. The ones they call the Iceforth Troopers, ‘specially, they fight like they want t’ eat your flesh off your bones.”

“Which ones, the dark ones or the pale ones?” Hausen asked.

“They look like the pale ones and smell like tan ones but worse.”

Schafer took over in his grumbling recount, more straight and to the point than Hausen had been. Kallec was driven, well prepared, and smashed through Paelli like a hot knife through butter, the Regential troopers battered and knocked aside by Kallean Legionaries. They had little in the way of tanks, and neither had the Paellans, but Kalleans were well familiar with horses and mules, light guns and sledges.

They appeared where they weren’t expected, and both faster and more ferociously than could be reasonably anticipated. They were very good at evasion, and when chased down fought hard enough that a few of them could slip away still. Even the Silver Lances had found a challenging opponent in them, even if you would guess they weren’t their equals in grit or materiel.

In a set of three battles, the two battalions of Silver Lances aided Paellan troops in exploiting a breach in the lines and forcing the Kallean to retreat, but there had been constant offense and counteroffensive. Schafer and Hausen had been knocked out of their tanks twice during that, and the first time, they lost a crewman, the second, they lose another crewman and the replacement of the last, both to Kallean anti-tank guns, quickly respected as being crack shots. They had been riding in an m/24-30 both times, a tank heavier than the m/28 but more unwieldly, a modification of it that was in many ways a precursor to the m/32 (far different to the original m/24’s original look), which hadn’t been delivered even to the Silver Lances yet. After two months and constant battle on the Steppes, the Kalleans finally drew back, and devoted their efforts to flanking Lindiva, which had been deemed a softer target since the Revolutionaries and Sudvitel both began to try and attack it. In the final battle with Kallec on the Pallean steppes and foothills, Schafer and Hausen and all of the crew in the tank were wounded by a direct strike upon it with an artillery gun, but a ceasefire was made only a few days later, and in May of 1932, the Silver Lances contingent that had been deployed were gradually ferried back home, heavily battered but victorious.

Such was the end of that tour. Afterwards, the Reserve Battalion hadn’t been much involved in the brief war with Valsten in ’32, the one you had skipped out during. They had been shuffling around reserve lists and hadn’t been made to fill any gaps. Their commander had gone missing on the journey back from Paelli and Vitelia- Hausen suspected that he had been seduced by the perfect women of Paelli, but Schafer thought that the officer merely got drunk and fell overboard in the dark of night. Such was what had put them in reserve crew lists until now, when they were called up once more. This wasn’t either of their first combats, of course, but apparently, it was what they felt they wanted to tell. To be true, it was probably more exciting a tale than what they’d done before they were in the Silver Lances.

“So what about-“ you began, but were cut off.

“Woah there,” Hausen held up his hands, “We just spun a great big yarn for you. We’re going to need an even trade, you hear?”

“An…even trade?”

Haussen waited with hands splayed, as though he didn’t feel he needed to explain further.

>?

>>4551587
I don't even know what of our deeds is secret and what not.

>Regale them an epic tale of our daring rescue of our fiancee and our tenure as Kommandant of the Republic of Mittelsosalia.
>Don't mention how close we are with Signy though. It's something to impress them with at a later time.
>Also leave our stint in Ellowie for a later date.

>>4551587
>>4551598
Supporting. Not every day a Lieutenant gets to play battalion commander even if it's in a Sosaldtian warlord state.Maybe even our Blumlands deployment as well; Ellowie can wait for after the briefing.

>>4551587
>Regale them with the daring rescue of Richter's darling wife and our work with the now infamous Cyclops and her republic. Some backstory about how he met both women might be in order, and some editing to exclude the more compromising spooky bullshit will be necessary, although hints about the occasional spirit sighting or weird occurrence are acceptable. Try not to boast too much, just tell it how it was, a list of arduous tasks Richter had to do to get back a loved one and help a friend start her dream.
This should catch them up on not only what type of fella Richter is, but also give them a bit of history about the tank they'll be riding in and how important it is to us.
This is also lowkey the highlight of Richter's military career. Nothing we did in Ellowie was particularly impressive...at least, none of the things we'd want to or probably can talk about.

>>4551587
So there we were in the middle of dusty Sosaldt, we had fought our way into Todesfelsen the regional powerhouse and homebase of the Blood Suns. We being the republic's first mechanized battalion, bunch of uparmored tractors with guns bolted on them and light trucks to carry our dismounts. We just finished storming an armory and were in the process of arming our allies inside the city when the whole neighborhood just blew up. Good thing we had pushed out to form a security cordon or the explosion would have taken us out as well. So from the rubble we picked ourselves out and learned that the entire city had banded together to kick us out.
With no real way to retreat out of those narrow streets we were forced to fight for our lives in the rubble. Praying to the judge that the remainder of the republic's army would hurry up. All we had were the shot up remnants of the battalion, who had fought two major actions earlier that day. The first was in the middle of a dust storm, cut all visibility. Annihilated one of our companies in the dust before we could even see what was shooting them. Second was storming the Gash, the main defensive fortification into Todesfelsen.
In those streets, in that rubble we fought for our lives. The Blood Suns storming over ruined houses and fallen buildings, endless and unyielding. They drove us from our forward positions and pressed in on all sides. They got in close, close enough for a man with a bundle of explosives. I had to engage with my pistol or we would have ended up like the armory. But there were to many, it wasnt long before one shouldered his rifle at me. I saw him and he saw me, no time to turn to engage him, and if it wasnt for the masked woman on the rooftop, well I wouldnt be here at all.

Its been years Tanq, Im not sure if the bundling charge is embellished but its war stories, you gotta exaggerate a bit.

>>4551587
>>4551606
An embellished from the capture of a city by the second youngest person in history to do so sounds good.
A joke can probably be made how Richter has mostly been in just about every kind of warfare except the conventional tank fights he was trained for. From fighting a boss battle against a landship, to fighting tank battles equipped with only machine guns, to taking a tank into a cramped city fight, to running counter-insurgency operations in tanks.

>>4551598
>>4551601
>>4551602
>>4551606
>>4551879
Sorry about the delay, update's on its way. War stories!

It sounded like they had started with their best foot forward- and you didn’t know how much about your time in Ellowie you could share, but your Sosaldt adventure had been covered in papers, on top of likely being the peak of your accomplishments anyways. There wasn’t much to boast about, recently, though it was probably best to downplay what had happened where you could. The truth of it was plenty larger than life without aggrandizement, but maybe you’d do it by accident anyways.

“…Well. It’s a long story, so I’ll try to get to get to the most interesting parts.”

The preamble went more quickly than you thought. The official story- that your fiancée was kidnapped, and you took a group of men and equipment out to get her. It was all heavily truncated, as you wanted to hurry on to Sosaldt- and the fledgling Republic.

“The person in charge of the Republic then, as now, was….” Is, you meant? “A friend of mine. Signy Vang, though she’d taken the name Cyclops.” The complications with Loch and the rest felt irrelevant to your part in all of this. Certain exceptions such as Liemanner’s bizarre plans were also left out- you could only assume whatever it was, had been spoiled by the rise of Mittelsosalia anyways. After a brief summary of the situation and the people involved, you went on. “There was to be a great battle. The birth of the Republic proper, as what it could gather together and make ready made for Wossehnalia, to march upon Todesfelsen, where those mercenaries had gone back to.” A small detail- though their banner when you met had been the Blood Suns, a mercenary conglomerate that was commissioned by the Southern Cities, the actual band was called the Death Heads- such was the name you knew them by then, though not before. “From what we’d brought, and a collection of tractors and trucks with armor and guns bolted onto them, I was given leadership of the Republic’s First Mechanized Battalion. To Strossvald I was Lieutenant, but there, I was given the title Kommandant.”

“Must have charmed that Cyclops lady something fierce to put a Lieutenant in charge of a Battalion,” Hausen observed.

You couldn’t help but grimace uncomfortably. You’d thought to mention how you met your fiancée, as well as Signy, but it was so far back.

“Sore spot?”

“No, it’s just complicated.” Now wasn’t the time to get sidetracked, especially not with something that wasn’t an ongoing awkwardness anyways. She’d just been drunk. It wasn’t how she really felt. “And not the point. She trusted me, and there wasn’t exactly many former army officers hanging around in that part of Sosaldt. The person in charge of the normal affairs of the unit was a former corporal.”

“Former corporal, huh,” Hausen looked back to Schafer, “Hey, think I can get a transfer to Mittelsosalia?”

“Hmph, bet they weren’t lookin’ for your kind of corporal,” Schafer said back. “Quit interruptin’. Only time he’s fought so far was that duel and the mountains thing. Th’ fuck did you end up in front of them, anyways…never mind.”

You swallowed on that, forgetting during the recounting that the strangeness of the mountains in their spiritual season had only been circumvented through use of a ghost. Autobiography of a madman. “So, that battle on the way to and in Todesfelsen…we came up and attacked one of their fortifications first, to lure them out of the city and into a trap. During that, I was almost killed by a sniper. I got lucky.” More like, you were lucky enough to have Maddalyn in the tank. You’d forgotten to mention she’d been rescued at that point, and that you’d taken her into battle. The Riverman was one of those things that really couldn’t be explained, so you left out his contributions. “After that, we retreated to draw the bulk of the enemy out, so that flanking forces could close on them and destroy them, but, a portion of our forces were in trouble, in their delaying efforts so we could get away. So we went back in to help them, but by then, a huge dust storm had come up. One we expected, but still…”

From there you recounted what you could of that frenetic struggle, where every fight was a knife fight, you couldn’t see a thing, where even keeping your formations together was a struggle. Where at one point, one of your entire companies was blown away without you even seeing it. Yet you made it- you found the stragglers of the White Eyes, rescued them- recalled the relief at finding Viska again, though she had lost an arm, you had saved those who had given their all in ensuring you could slip away.

Now look where they’ve ended up.

…From there the city had descended into chaos. Right, it was because of elements rising up after the main Death Heads force had been routed in the field. You were trying to keep to the battle details, but memories flooded back of all the moving parts involved- all the people. Maddalyn had been shot in the battle in the dust storm, and had remained behind when it came time to attack Todesfelsen. Yet here, Anya had joined you. Despite having been an enemy the same day. It was baffling then, but now, you knew why. Her place had never really been that city, and her home had never been that town.

The claustrophobia of Todesfelsen’s streets, crawling from street to street. Anya being wounded, and defying reason to go and do her own thing in a way that admittedly saved many lives. The attack towards the armory, its taking, then, on pure caution on your part- you were far enough away from the armory to avoid being blown away like your militia allies had been. You recalled the ringing in your ears, the deafness, the dust and ruins, as you were assailed right after by a motivated enemy assault. It was a blur, now, how you’d chased after an element of the battalion that had been separated, how the battalion elsewhere stood its ground, died in place. How your life had been saved by Hilda once again, and the Iron Hogs appeared to relieve you at the end of the desperate battle.

Thinking of that reminded you of Illger again. Another memory that was dead now. You hadn’t known him as well as Viska, but there was some regret there as well. A same feeling, that his demise could have been prevented. Though was he really dead? His nickname implied a sort of inability to be killed. Everybody seemed certain of it, though.

That was all of the battle. You didn’t want to think about the executions you ordered. You didn’t need to recount sleeping with your head on Hilda’s lap. You didn’t remember the person you once were, when you were able to accomplish this story you’d told as though you were there, but as an observer.

“Sounds like you’ve already had your share of fighting where we’re set to be going,” a new voice said.

“Eh?” you blinked and looked to the new listener, “How long have you been there? Who are you?”

“Vehrlors told me to come over,” the man said, a smooth faced, tight eyed man with a checkered muffler around his throat and an easy smile, a strangely familiar one. “You’re Lieutenant Von Tracht? I’m Lieutenant Oskar Van Halm. We’ll be a tank pair.”

Oskar…Van Halm? “Do you have a brother?” you asked.

“One about your age, yeah. He was at the Armor Academy in…wait, yeah, you’d be in the same year, wouldn’t you? You friends?”

“…No, I just know of him,” you muttered. “How long have you been listening?”

“Since the part in the mountains. You were on a roll, so I didn’t want to butt in. Came around to remind too that we’ve got to go off to the briefing in about an hour.” Judge Above, had you been talking that long? “That stew smells about done?”

“Give it another few minutes,” Schafer said. You hadn’t noticed the stew’s development, but the smell had crept up on you. A comfortable scent in winter, that warmed just from inhaling it.

“I’ve been waiting for my other crew to arrive, too,” you mentioned.

“Your retinue, yeah?” Van Halm assumed, “Would they have not arrived with you?”

“N-no, they aren’t my retinue.” You only had one retinue, and you did not shackle her to your person. “They are my crew, though. They were with me through that whole tale, and to now.” A pause. “You said tank pair?”

“Yeah.” Oskar signed with his hands, “Battle line doesn’t work so well how we do it. We like to keep loose. You have five tanks in a platoon like normal, but you’re split up further into pairs, and the platoon leader stays with one pair or goes to the other. Less firepower concentration, but better coverage. Works better for getting that first shot.” Oskar slipped his hands in his pockets, “Speaking of tank fighting, funny thing, I noticed that you haven’t exactly been in a single traditional tank fight through that story, have you? Over open ground, with plenty of distance?”

“Well, I’ve been in a few now,” you said, “But no, that escapade was…unusual. Unusual in many ways.”

“Don’t know if you’d be glad to know it or not,” Oskar said, “They’ll talk further on it in the briefing, but it’s pretty clear we’re headed to Sosaldt, probably to Mittelsosalia. Maybe we’ll pass by some familiar places for you, yeah?” He studied your face, “What do you think of the place? You left it and came back here and got a court martial for your trouble, but see, you’ve been there, and I haven’t. Mind helping your buddy out?”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to call anybody that looked like Van Halm from the academy your buddy, but considering that the primary method of improvement in the Silver Lances seemed to be everybody’s varied experiences…

>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.
>Getting in and out of there as fast as possible was priority then as it is now. You’d rather not be nostalgic for the place or its individualistic, bellicose people.
>You didn’t leave because of contempt, but because you were of Strossvald. If you were to boast, you’d say that your uncle had earned his fame in Sosaldt as well. For what it was worth, you had some fondness for the idea you might be the influence you were.
>Other?

>>4553616
>You didn’t leave because of contempt, but because you were of Strossvald. If you were to boast, you’d say that your uncle had earned his fame in Sosaldt as well. For what it was worth, you had some fondness for the idea you might be the influence you were.

>>4553616
>>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.

>>4553616
>>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.

Sosaldt can stay that way. A lot of those memories have bad endings, even if what Richter accomplished there was good.

>>4553616
>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.

>>4553616
>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.

>>4553616
>>Getting in and out of there as fast as possible was priority then as it is now. You’d rather not be nostalgic for the place or its individualistic, bellicose people.

>>4553616
>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.

>You left because your work there was done. You didn’t end up minding it too terribly, but there wasn’t anything more to do.
We couldn't leave fast enough. Signy wants the Republic in a war when it doesn't even have any proper domestic industries to support a long war. There is only so much she can buy before her money runs out or airlifted in. Considering those guys in the south that controlled the port cities were aligned against her.

>>4554246
Sorry I highlighted the wrong option. I meant to quote

>Getting in and out of there as fast as possible was priority then as it is now. You’d rather not be nostalgic for the place or its individualistic, bellicose people.

>>4553678
Twas a holiday.

>>4553945
>>4554250
Judge Above get me out of this dustbin before it becomes a pit.

>>4553698
>>4553719
>>4553838
>>4553862
>>4553957
Apparently not as finished as you thought.

Writing.

“Well, I think it’s best if it can stay the way it is now. I didn’t mind it too terribly, but there wasn’t much else to do.” Was there, though? Perhaps nothing you could have made any better. “I did my part. It’s dusty and barren, the wastes don’t have much in the way of tall vegetation, and when the winds kick up everything’s filthy in an instant. The people are what you can expect, but I found myself not feeling contempt for them, by the end.” Fighting alongside plenty of them encouraged such, even if most thought Sosaldt was full of nothing but burnouts and exiles, and malicious sorts who went merely to exploit the lawlessness.

“So an easy time, then?” Oskar asked sardonically, “You don’t have the opinion I’d expect. Folks from the border and the cauldron talk about the whole lot like they’re mad lepers, or utter barbarians.”

“Maybe some of them,” you could think of a few, certainly, “I think they mostly just want to live. If they’re given a strong reason to fight, I think they’re well motivated, and they’re no strangers to a shootout.” An uncertain thought, given that the cynicism the place was spoken of didn’t mesh with Signy’s idealism, but look at where she was now, for that.

“Half think you were staving off going native like your uncle. Or expatriate, heh.”

“You know of Heller Von Tracht?” you blinked, pleasantly surprised for but a moment, but, “…I’m not him.”

“I don’t know much about him, but maybe that’s for the bet-“ Oskar paused and looked over your shoulder, “Oh, looks like your boys are around.” He slapped your shoulder, “I’ll leave you to this then. Want me to come back and get you when it’s time for briefing?”

“Er, sure,” you thought this rather abrupt, and as he left, you couldn’t help but feel that this man had gotten a lot from you while you hadn’t gotten much measure of him at all. Was that on purpose?

They were dressed in their plain, black tanker uniforms, same as you’d seen them last, but changed out to either be cleaner or less beaten. Jorgen had a spring in his step, the swarthy northerner clearly still riding high off a holiday, while Malachi was slouched in a way you hadn’t seen before, like he felt a hundred eyes on him. He looked around constantly, more guarded than he’d ever been, and it didn’t help that Hausen was narrowing his eyes at the man whose face was concealed under wrappings and goggles.

“Heiaheii,” Jorgen came up and gave you a friendly shove that nearly knocked you over, “Hou’s yaer break gaene?”

“Oh, Judge Above, that’s the worst I’ve ever heard…” Schafer grumbled as he tasted the stew and threw a pinch of salt in.

“Huh? Well, it was alright. I stayed with my wife a couple of days.”

“Ahhh, waefes,” Jorgen nodded approvingly, “Treaeta getta gaerl faer Malla,” he whispered loudly, “Baet ‘ewaen’t bite! Baeg chaest, smael chest, laettle waemen baeg gaerl, hae’ll die a vaergin!”
Malachi had no comment, as he was returning Hausen’s glare and furtively adjusting his masking. You yourself had no comment on Jorgen’s efforts to…introduce him to female company. Besides that Malachi wasn’t timid in informing on his tastes.
“An’ yae?” Jorgen leaned forward, “Yae a man, now?”

>That’s not something you want to talk about.
>Yes.
>What?
>Other?

>>4554519
>That’s not something you want to talk about

>>4554519
>Other? ("A man, doesn't kiss and tell. What happens between my wife and myself will stay between us.")

>>4554519
>>What?
Accent's comin' in reaaal thick right now Jorgen, can't understand a word you're sayin'.
Anyways come meet the rest of the crew, you can talk with Hausen, maybe Mal likes courtesans.

>>4554519
>>Other?
"That's for me to know, and you to find out!"

Sorry for the lag, people, just getting the gears spinning again.

>>4554538
I'd rather not.

>>4554544
Boasting about my and my wife's intimate interactions is unseemly.

>>4554733
Say that in New Nauk, please.

>>4555002
Need to know basis.

Writing!

Yaegir custom must not have put barriers between men when it came to interactions between a man and his wife. Either that, or your loader was particularly open. He had told the story of how he’d exiled himself by sleeping with his spouse’s twin sister as a humorous event in his life, after all. However, you still weren’t keen on sharing even an implication.

“I must have misheard what you asked about, but regardless, I am not a man who kisses and tells. If you want to know more, I’m not the one to ask.”

Jorgen closed his eyes pensively, shook his head, and put a large hand on your shoulder. “Aaahh, yae gaetta be assertaeve, bossman. Daen’t wahrry, I beleavenyu.”

That wasn’t really… “Okay. Anyways.” You turned to Hausen, “These are my crewmen, Soldat Malachi and Coporal Jorgen,” you pointed to them respectively, thinking of how you might distract Hausen’s attention to Malachi’s concealment of his identity, “Malachi, Jorgen, these are Lance Corporal Hausen and Sergeant Schafer. I’ve been trading stories with them, and…er, Jorgen,” Malachi wouldn’t be able to feign interest in this, you knew, but the more aggressive man certainly could, “Have you ever seen a Paellan woman?”

Jorgen gave you a look like he didn’t even know where Paelli was on a map, but the look you returned was a plead you hoped he could understand with smoldering glares being exchanged in front of you. “…Caen’tse aever saen one,” he looked to Hausen, “Taell mebout ‘em.”

Haussen blinked, not ready to be inquired about it, before biting hard on the bait to indulge in a passionate subject. It let you lead Malachi by the cooking pot, where Sieg had loped up. The dog sniffed curiously at Malachi, and sat next to him on the ground as the mountain man sat and rubbed the dog’s head.

“Great,” Schafer muttered, “I thought I’d had ‘is spiel for the day. Now ‘e’ll be chattering on that bollocks all night.” He glanced up at Malachi disinterestedly, “Don’t suppose you don’t talk funny, do you?”

“Nuu.” Malachi said.

“Of course.” Schafer looked down again, “Well, the mask is creepy, but Sieg likes you, and animals don’t midjudge people, I say.” Sieg gave Schafer a hopeful look with the stew. “This isn’t for you,” Schafer scolded, “You’ll probably beg some off somebody anyhow. Bad habits, swear.” Schafer leaned over and picked up a clutch of steel pots, lidded, with wire and wood handles. “Work for y’ pay like the rest of us, Sieg. Go tell the platoon grub’s hot.”

-----

Schafer turned out to be a competent cook, and your m/32B was moved in soon after quiet eating ended, but as your new crew was with the old in checking it over, it came time for the briefing, as Lieutenant Van Halm came to remind you. You thought that you’d meet the other platoon officers then and there, but Oskar told you they had already gone ahead with Captain Vehrlors on ahead. You’d meet them at the headquarters tent, you figured then.

The tent was an open sort, how it had to be, having to house the officers of the entire reserve battalion, and at the head, in a uniform that was fancy but nothing like the normal for Strossvald’s generals, was the reserve panzer battalion’s commander- Colonel Paul Jagdmeister, a man you knew little of at least presently- you must have known of him before. The sharp glare in his eyes and the stark white grey at his temples beneath a receding crown of short black hair spoke of somebody with a ferocity to them, even from some distance away, as you and the platoon officers were. Your company commander sat with the others directly below the Colonel, in a row in the very front.
Jagdmeister took out his pocket watch and eyed it for a solid minute, glancing upwards every so often, and when the appointed second came, he wasted no time in asking after attendance. You were either there, or you were wrong.

“Officers of the Reserve Panzer Battalion,” Jagdmeister announced loudly, in a deep, clear voice. “As per the preliminary delivered to you, the Silver Lances have been commissioned by the Republican Government-in-Exile of Ellowie, to aid their forces and those of their allies of the Republic of Mittelsosalia in battles against their enemies to the north, until either victory is ensured, or the period of our two month commission expires. The particular maneuevers and order of battle are not privy to us yet, but if we are to fight effectively, the unit must be aware of the circumstances we are entering, especially since tomorrow, we will move into Mittelsosalia and prepare to join their forces on the line. We’ll have very little time to be acclimated, so pay close attention now.”

Jagdmeister tapped his baton on a projection screen, and the lamps dimmed, and a projector shone a monochrome image of a map; familiar territory, labeled with two flags familiar, and one not- the flag of Mittelsosalia, maybe? Two bars, a ring with a cruciform star inside, and four stars around it.

“First of all, the present situation. Intelligence is clear that the current fighting is in northern Sosaldt, not in Netilland, with no present commitment by Netilland, though the factions in North Sosaldt have aligned themselves with Netilland, in reaction to Mittelsosalia’s expansion. Make no mistake, this will change. No one is under the impression that this is a conflict between Sosaldtians, especially not since the repeated air raids by the Ellowian Air Force upon Netillian military targets upon their soil and in occupied territory.”

Another click, as slides were changed and the map from before was now overlaid with markers showing airbases, and paths of flight. It was clear that offensives had taken place to seize the territory these airbases were at, though the ranges involved still seemed quite far, in your admittedly inexpert opinion.

“This brings us to the composition of our allies,” Jagdmeister boomed as the slides changed, “The Army of the Republic of Mittelsosalia, as well as the Ellowian Army at present, are quite under-equipped. The former because of their recent formation and the lack of heavy military industry in their new country, and the latter because of the logistical impossibility of withdrawing an army from its country while also keeping all of its heavy equipment. In the first place, it is a miracle that they have extracted their air force in its state, where it has embarrassed and defeated the Netillians over their own skies. We will represent a major portion of both heavy and mobile forces available.”

Another click, another slide. The listed fellow mechanized units were not reassuring in numbers. The Ellowian Air Force would have to pull more than their weight.

“Also important is the question of sustainability,” the Colonel said seriously, “Given industrial estimates of Mittelsosalia, and assumptions of their monetary assets when concerning their purchasing power of equipment, the alliance of Republics is ill-suited to a long term war. We have been commissioned for two months, but they are unlikely to be able to sustain a full-front offensive for more than two weeks, by analyst estimates. By then, they will either have had to win, or drawn the necessary support to replenish the spent assets. What this means for us,” another slide, “Is that we will have much demanded of us. Netillian Military Command will know that time is on their side. We must be tenacious and aggressive enough for there to be no option but to face us in battle. Battle, which we shall dominate in, as we must.”

The slides changed, and familiar diagrams of Netillian vehicles and weaponry appeared.

“The Netillian war machine has been undergoing a rapid and large scale transformation after their conquest of Ellowie,” Jagdmeister said, “but this has caused a vulnerability. They are like a crab that has shed its exoskeleton in growing larger, but their new shell has not hardened yet. Do not underestimate your enemy, but know that you face a bloated enemy. An enemy that has a materiel advantage over our allies, however, and repeated battle will harden them more rapidly if they are not dealt blows too heavy to endure.”

He cracked his baton into his palm, and tilted his neck, a deep frown on his face. “Onto the subject of command.” Click. Pictures of what appeared to be a general, and a young lady with a white long coat and an eye patch, with a grim expression that you had never seen on Signy. “Field Marshall Karolus Rummel, commander of the Ellowian Army in Exile. It is under his command that we have been placed, by authority of the Ellowian Republic, but we are more likely to be directly aiding the forces of Mittelsosalia. On the right is the warlord Signy Vang, called Cyclops as a nom de guerre. Despite that they will be our allies, if you are given a command by a Mittelsosalian higher officer, you are to remind them that we are commissioned to the Ellowian Government and Field Marshall Rummel, not to a twenty year old young lady. However, as an allied head of state, I will remind you all to mind your manners, especially as she has taken up an active part in the front. Remember that you represent the best of the Archduchy.”

Another click. Up there was Wladysaw XI, in front of a contingent of what you recognized as his Gendarmes. “Reports just today have revealed, as well, another reason we must be hasty. Ellowian Air Attacks have caused significant unrest in occupied territories. Their people have been inspired by the sight of their pilots over their skies once more, and the general uprising has been joined by units of what was meant to be a puppet government under the old royal line of Ellowie, but evidently, he has gotten his own ideas. Their situation is similar, in that they will not last long without direct intervention upon the front, but even more dangerous is the risk of drawing in Twaryian involvement, to the east. They are presently hampered by insurgent uprisings and border troubles to the south, intelligence has said, but we will not know how long this delay will have.”

Click, and a slide, showing Netilland, and pictures of what you recognized to be UGZs. “They are not the only factor to be cognizant of. The people of Netilland are known to be oppressed by their military government, to the point that many political dissidents have been imprisoned in reformation camps, or work transfer centers. If we strike hard and quickly, and hand a defeat to the Netillians that they cannot ignore, then the confidence, and thus fear, of the military government will be undermined. Such is one of the most important reasons why we must win and win quickly.”

There was more to the briefing- the more mundane, chains of command, replenishment procedure, the specifics of enemy materiel, as well as that of your allies. Though you had to confess to yourself…that you were discomforted by not being in a more relevant position than you were now, for this. In Sosaldt you had been Kommandant, and in Ellowie, you had been both advisor and in-effect commander of a company, and influential in more ways than being an individual tank commander. Was it arrogance? No, but perhaps, out of any time to test your mettle, you felt the least confident in your abilities now.

Time came for queries- from the company commanders, not the rest of the lot of you. One of them raised his hand, and queried after…

>You aren’t in a place to ask questions yourself- but the company commanders are, and they’ve probably thought of things you’d consider and better anyways. Such as…
Of course, anything that would appreciate being cleared up that would have been covered in detail, is also acceptable to ask after.

>>4555662
Just to clarify, so we're engaging the Northern Lords instead and then pushing into the Netillian occupation zone instead of taking the route that Richter took? Or are we pushing into Netilland proper?

Other than that honestly I think Richter probably knows the most about current affairs more than anyone else in the tent right now.

>>4555701
>Just to clarify, so we're engaging the Northern Lords instead and then pushing into the Netillian occupation zone instead of taking the route that Richter took? Or are we pushing into Netilland proper?
This is the case. There was Ellowian presence in the funnel, yes, but it isn't the avenue of advance. It's into the Northern Lords' territory, then further into Netilland, at least, from what is predicted.

>>4555662
Are the Northern Lords the only one we'll be initially fighting or has Netilland deployed forces to assist them? It seems like keeping the fighting out of Ellowie for as long as possible would be a priority for them.

Whats the make up of the Northern Lord formations we'll be expected to directly engage. Modern export equipment or the usual scattering of second hand vehicles in Sosaldt? Are we just destroying their maneuver formations and bypassing cities in the rush to get into Ellowie or will the Republic/Ellowie army be sieging hold outs that threaten supply line from Mittelsosalia.

You dont have to answer my questions Tanq, I understand that I maybe asking alot just to soothe my own curiosity.

>>4555662
Preface, this can be answered later when it's more appropriate.

What kind of battlefield support can we expect from our allies? Will the air force be available for close air support?

What are the relative force numbers? Are we decidedly outnumbered?

Say what you will, it will be a fresh experience for Richter to focus alone on his tank, crew and objective for at least the short term.
Also it sounds like we won't be seeing the King and Wielzci unless they are fantastically successful and instead working very closely with Eyebrows.

What to expect from the twarian? I honestly thought this war would start when nettilian and twaryan throat.
I see no way of winning against nettilian already geared up against a real country and then with what is left liberate the south.
What if the twarian just take advantage of the situation and attack when both side are at their lowest. It seems completely non-sensical to me.

>>4555662
Any other nations giving support to the Republic? Can't just be the Lances being hired.

>>4556455
(Just to note I know about the Griffin Company, just want to see what the Archduchy knows about it in character)

I return.
>>4555879
The Sosaldtians and the unit's purpose.

>>4556170
Allied support and relative numbers.

>>4556391
What about the easterners? Note on how this seems ill advised to say the least.

>>4556455
Anybody else attending this party?

Writing, right after I draw Cegremo as a woman.

>>4556170
So you have Elbows and Eyebrows, what anatomy identifies everybody else, I wonder.
Don't answer that.

File: pcq_silverlances_batorg.jpg (77 KB, 436x1000)

77 KB JPG

Also meant to attach this last post but, though this was said in text, structure of division. In general.

>>4556675
Nice pic, but why are the battalions brigades and the regiments division' sized? So the Archduchy is sending the equivalent of a full corps into Sosaldt with the Lances?

>>4556707
Because I goofed on the markings :^)

>>4556713
Specifically, I put Xs instead of lines because of brain rot, presumably.

>>4556713
Lol it's alright. Do you have a diagram for what the rest of our platoon is using tanks-wise?

>>4556748
Not yet, but they've all got m/32s. Your platoon leader has the new variant with a 5cm cannon instead of a 3.7 cm.

>>4556675
Any reason why the Reserve Unit is a battalion and not a regiment? Not enough modern-ish tanks to go around?

“Have the Netillians deployed any forces south yet?” the Company Commander asked, “It must hardly be a mystery what the objective of this is now. The longer they keep the fighting away from their territories both occupied and not, the better, so logically they would wish to fight in Sosaldt?”

“They are not doing it yet,” Jagdmeister said, “But they should be expected to. We can’t read their minds.”

“What about other interests than the Archduchy’s?” Another company commander asked, “Is Strossvald the only one sending aid to this alliance? And are we all?”

“That has not been made known.”

“Then may I be pardoned for being skeptical of our chances, Herr Oberst.” The same company commander said with a tone lacking in enthusiasm, “Considering that Netilland has only grown stronger and would be prepared to fight a more intimidating force than that of an republic exiled of its own lands and a mob of brigand troops.”

“If the situation turns for the worse, we will not sacrifice ourselves for a cause beyond reasonable hope,” Jagdmeister said firmly, not showing any offense if he took it, “However, I would remind for those whom were not present, Hauptmann Schlosser, that the fighting men of Paelli were dismissed as chocolate cream soldiers, conscripts dressed like show animals and dandies more ready for a ball than battle. Yet in spite of their failures, we were victorious still. You will find a better opinion of our allies here than of then, here.”

The particularly mouthy company commander leaned back with a huffy sigh, but you could understand why he had spoken up in the way he did. Ellowian soldiery was a high pedigree, and Mittelsosalia’s troops came from a stock of people used to adversity and violence, but it was difficult to see them prevailing with the speed said to be needed over a force like Netilland’s. You’d seen them idle and in action as well, and they were far from feeble. Would the bloat mentioned be enough to tip the imbalance? Perhaps if you had a better perspective on the gap between the mentioned Paellans and Kallec, you’d be more optimistic?

The gap between your allies and your now enemies had been made clear enough. The Ellowian air force, by some well planned miracle, had escaped largely intact, and held dominion over the skies in Sosaldt, and to a degree, in Netilland to. Their continued operation couldn’t be counted on, however. Sosaldtian dust wrought havoc on aircraft’s sustained operations, and the Ellowians had no war machine to produce spares any more. Heavy weaponry such as armor and artillery was also at a premium. Not nonexistent, but not particularly more numerous than what Mittelsosalia had. The latter’s heavier equipment was better than what you’d last seen them with, though that was not saying very much. The improvised mechanisms the Guillotines had called tanks were mostly gone, from the looks of things, replaced with what were frankly still garage creations but of a level of expertise above- they were based upon what looked like proper hulls and chassis, many of what was shown being an imitation of the converted Netillian turreted tankette design popular in the region. Enough to outfit a division- as well as the curious addition of Reich model tanks. Older ones, but probably the best available to the Republic nevertheless. Loch’s strings, presumably, but was it the equipment alone or had crews come along as well?

The forces of the Northern Confederation, the looser rival state that had formed to oppose Mittelsosalia, were not sold as particularly intimidating compared to the Republic and Ellowie. They were less organized than even the Mittelsosalian Army, and less well equipped, as though Netilland had offloaded some old equipment and artillery upon them, you knew well that the Netillians were too focused on equipping their own rapidly expanding army to lavish generosity upon brigand gangs to their south. Their association was one of nonaggression, and only the most tenuous of cooperation, because of the threat to Netilland, not to the “Northern Lords.” Despite being no better equipped in general than the Republic of Mittelsosalia had been back when it was referred to as Vang, they were known as tough fighters. Factions in the north had done battle with Netilland- and even won in the past.

Meanwhile, the Netillian armed forces readied for the south were apparently not the best. Those were arrayed ready for aggression from Twaryi. That didn’t mean they were easy opponents, however, as though they weren’t as well equipped as the forces to the east, they were still numerous, and easily had materiel superiority. They weren’t remarkable beyond that they were indeed an equipped and trained army, and thus not to be underestimated. For what it was worth, Jagdmeister had placed the Netillians below the Kalleans, largely based off of aggression and ferocity.

The question of numbers was a relevant one, as well. The Northern Lords were decidedly outnumbered, and they were the only ones presently fighting, but if the Netillians went south, such would change. Intelligence suggested that the Netillians would not move the bulk of their forces south, however. The combination of the need to occupy Ellowian territory and put up a strong front against Twaryi significantly capped their response…but the potential for your allies to be significantly outnumbered was still there, if haste was not made, or if the Netillians had a second opinion and decided to risk their investments to ensure they had clear superiority of numbers. As it stood, the numbers weren’t certain, but the Netillian forces arrayed southwards were predicted to have an approximate ratio of 1.3-1 numbers against Republic Alliance, without counting their northern Sosaldt allies.

This was all far over your head, of course, as a mere tank commander once again, but you appreciated knowing the general situation. Namely, that it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. The actual plan of attack wasn’t up to somebody of Jagdmeister’s rank. That would apparently be gone over once you properly arrived in Mittelsosalia.

The briefing after that was ended with little ceremony, and the officers all filed out in an orderly fashion. On the way back was when you actually got the opportunity to meet the other two lieutenants in your platoon, besides Van Halm. They were, inconveniently, brothers from the same family. A noble one- it tickled you a little that Vehrlors, clearly of common blood, was above the rest of all of you. That wouldn’t happen often in the normal army’s panzer units.

“So you are Von Tracht?” One of the similar looking men, the elder one, asked. “I am Von Rotehof.”

“I’m Von Rotehof too,” the younger one said right after.

The question they wanted of you was obvious. They were both auburn haired and

of similar height, just below yours, but their methods of being out of uniform were different, as one wore a gorget at his throat while the other had chains dangling from his pockets that jangled as he walked. “…So I can call both of you Lieutenant Von Rotehof.”

“He is Little Von Rotehof.” The elder one said.

“What? No I’m not,” the other said testily.

“He is,” Van Halm said, coming up beside, “He doesn’t want to be the new guy anymore.”

Did that make the other Von Rotehof, Big Von Rotehof? “How new is he?”

“He joined last year after the unit came back from Paelli,” Big Von Rotehof said, “On recommendation from others and myself. He really put the effort in to catch up to me.”

“Anyways,” Little Van Rotehof said, “My name is Stevan, not Little. I wanted to ask, new guy, how’d you get in? Or, who recommended you?”

“…Does it matter?” you squinted at the dark red haired man. Well, yes, it did. Captain Vehrlors had been very clear that the Silver Lances didn’t like secrets being kept. Still, though. “I think I’ve done well enough to be noticed.”

“Yes but,” younger Von Rotenhof insisted, “By who? That by itself says something. You know who, don’t you? They certainly would’ve told you. Nobody’s come in here because a secret admirer noticed them doing good. My brother was in before me, but his word alone wasn’t enough, after all.”

Of course, you knew who. Rather, you…sort of knew. There were things in the way, however. One was whether you were supposed to tell. The other main obstacle was…that you didn’t know her name. What were you supposed to say?

>Say that you’re not supposed to tell. Even if that might make you come across as inappropriately secretive and suspect.
>You were granted this position by a woman called The Major. You didn’t know her name. Only that she was a colossal bitch. In physical size as well as personality.
>Maybe taking the piss would let you avoid the subject. Say that your Mommy put you in. It wouldn’t be untrue. “Mommy” couldn’t force anything down your throat now.
>Other?

>>4557260
>Any reason why the Reserve Unit is a battalion and not a regiment? Not enough modern-ish tanks to go around?
The unit's role as an expeditionary one, mainly. It's easier to move around less tanks when they have to go a long way. As is, the Reserve Battalion is meant to be a reserve, but its commanders vehemently refuse to use it as such. It's a leaner in some ways, but bulkier in others. For example, a standard Strossvald armored division would not have the things presumed to be provided in the Battle Line, such as logistics support and artillery.

>>4557637
>You were granted this position by a woman called The Major. You didn’t know her name. Only that she was a colossal bitch. In physical size as well as personality.

>>4557637
>You were granted this position by a woman called The Major. You didn’t know her name. Only that she was a colossal bitch. In physical size as well as personality.

We should get the Major a drink the next time we see her. Assuming this entire adventure isn't some sort of trap.

>>4557637
>You were granted this position by a woman called The Major. You didn’t know her name. Only that she was a colossal bitch. In physical size as well as personality.

>>4557637
>You were granted this position by a woman called The Major. You didn’t know her name. Only that she was a colossal bitch. In physical size as well as personality.

>>4557637
>You were granted this position by a woman called The Major. You didn’t know her name. Only that she was a colossal bitch. In physical size as well as personality.

>>4557696
>>4557698
>>4557701
>>4557735
>>4557743
Colossal Cunt, Big Bitch, Large Lady, Humongous Hussy, Whopping Woman, Massive Mommy.

Writing.

>>4557698
What drink would it be, I wonder. Would you get it right this time?

What was there to hide, really. “I was placed here on the recommendation of a woman called the Major. I don’t know what her name is, just that she is a massive…ly unpleasant woman. In stature as well as personality.”

A moment of confused silence. “A woman?” Van Halm repeated, “Of that rank?”

“One of the territorial armies, maybe?” Elder Von Rotehof speculated, “A blue blooded woman could play army up to and until she had golden tassels on her shoulders.”

“That doesn’t make no sense,” Stevan shot his elder brother down, “What would be the point of a noblewoman hiding her identity? Hell, you could narrow them down easy. How massive is this woman, new guy?”

“Er…” you approximated with a hand, and that took everybody aback. “She wore heels most of the time, she’s really more around…” you scaled your arm down but your hand was still a good bit above your head, “Around here. Long black hair.”

“…And the rest of her?” Van Halm asked curiously.

“No.”

Van Halm shrugged innocently.

“That is a very, very tall woman,” the older brother observed readily, “There aren’t many that tall, let alone in a position of rank. If she was a noble, one could find out who she was with very little difficulty.”

If you’d said this much already, there wasn’t much point in allowing more speculation in the wrong places. “She doesn’t have a name because she’s a member of the Intelligence Office,” you said flatly.

The deathly silence after made the winter evening only more chilly, but you had been open with that. You hoped that you’d earn points for that, at least, even if you must have been the most suspicious person in the battalion, as far as your platoon members were concerned, now.

It’d be nice if they didn’t spread that around.

Much as it would have been nice to spread out bedrolls and tents and get ready to sleep, the briefing you came back from didn’t instruct you to give news of a restful evening to your people new and old. No, you were to do checkups, pack everything, and be ready to leave as soon as you woke, which would be before the sun even rose next morning. Yet there was no grumbling, no complaints- the orders came from above, and it seemed, despite only knowing Hausen and Schafer for a matter of hours, they did not ask for explanation. They obeyed, as Malachi and Jorgen did, and when they worked, there was no glares, glances, or debate. Though doubtless they’d return, for now, labor demanded peace.

How much labor would the coming days demand, you wondered, as you made a simple request of Hausen to do a simple trick that Hans did all of the time, which was to tune the tank’s radio into local broadcasting. Not for music, or opera, but for the news. There was no shortage of empty space in your head that needed the gaps filled, by any means necessary.

So on it went, to a news channel, and despite the mess to the north, it seemed that today, attention had been direct…east. Fortuitous, though perhaps to be expected, since you were all going over there just next morning.

The current report was on…

>Growing unrest in occupied Ellowie, tinder catching light.
>The Offensive of the Republic, the crucible for its future.
>The flight of the Black Eagles, to claim the skies.
Yes this is a brief perspective shift.

>>4558403
>>Growing unrest in occupied Ellowie, tinder catching light.

>>4558403
>I'm down with anything

>>4558403
>Growing unrest in occupied Ellowie, tinder catching light.
I want to see Richter's efforts over the past couple of months pay off.

>>4558403
>>The Offensive of the Republic, the crucible for its future.

>>4558403
>The Offensive of the Republic, the crucible for its future.

>>4558403
>Growing unrest in occupied Ellowie, tinder catching light
The Midland Rangers falling apart will probably be very, very nasty.

>>4558403
>The Offensive of the Republic, the crucible for its future.
Gotta prevent Signy from getting captured and gangraped to death.

>>4558403
>>Growing unrest in occupied Ellowie, tinder catching light.

>>4558403
>Growing unrest in occupied Ellowie, tinder catching light

>>4558404
>>4558445
>>4558556
>>4558693
>>4558728
The sparks are lighting, the iron is growing hot,

>>4558452
>>4558516
>>4558669
For the Republic!

>>4558437
Going back and marrying Mathilda and claiming it was an accident.

Writing.

No Ace Combat Pantsu

When Alpha Two’s first phase began, it was with a vengeful host from the sky. Ellowie’s famed air force returned to sow terror for its enemies, but more importantly, hope amongst its citizens. Over UGZ-09, the people stood atop roofs and crowded the streets, looking upward at a dogfight between fighters. Planes that were meant to be banned in those skies, but once-familiar shapes had appeared, bearing black checkers upon their wings. The Netillian response to them was shot down before the eyes of these hopeful watchers, and when a plane dove low, those on the rooftops said that the pilot, his plane bearing the black eagle of Ellowie, waved to those watching.

The very next day, riots broke out all over the occupied country. The people had seen their champions whom they thought abandoned them, return- and they were impatient for their liberation.

Yet the place the world looked to for a response, the Netillians included, was quiet. Yes, the Netillian puppet state was said to be impotent- but should the King Wladysaw XI be saying nothing? Yes, the Defense Council knew he was meant to be a patsy, but should he not come out in support? In Perlowieza, his seat, there was a deathly quiet over the city. The Netillian occupation troops were overwhelmed by the resistance that had come up all over, but the Gendarmes had not been called upon, nor volunteered, to serve in their capacity as Netilland’s allies.

There was a reason. Yet it was something that needed to be so carefully handled. Powerful as the unrest was, the proper timing for an uprising required thought not being given by most. Yet here you were, in a quite important position for all of this…

>…the crippled soldier with no name, Zoldak.
>…the vanquished seeking redemption, Wielzci.
>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King.

>>4558837
>>…the vanquished seeking redemption, Wielzci.
>>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King.
Either one is fine.

>>4558837
>>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King.

>>4558837
>>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King.

>>4558837
>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King.

>>4558837
>>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King.

>>4558837
>…bearer of the false crown that would become a blazing torch, the King

File: marioplayspolitics.jpg (252 KB, 1060x791)

252 KB JPG

>>4558842
>>4558850
>>4558853
>>4558861
>>4558872
>>4558882
Well, it seems you're going macro, then.
Writing.

So it begins.

The metaphorical crown upon your head might as well have been false- you’d never placed a real one upon yourself. The only man who could crown a King of Ellowie was the Vilja Domrkarl, the Will of Saints, and without the approval of the divine, any king was merely a pretender before the Judge. Alas, you’d taken the Netillians’ offer, for the peace and pleasantries promised. Yet, somewhere along the way, that promised peaceful living had become a thing that the Netillians could no longer promise. With how far you had come and what you had done in life, could you deny yourself what simple thing you wished? Certainly not.

You are Wladysaw Von Katski, the Eleventh of that Regnal name. When you were young, it had been insisted to you that your family would take the crown of Ellowie once more, but anybody else claimed such was mere fancy. From an early age, you’d believed such, and contented yourself with the life you had, with your personal maidservant, Mabel. Yet even your family was not satisfied with what they had, and fought one another fiercely still. That you grew to adulthood was good fortune that other members of the family could not claim, as they whittled the grand tree of Von Katski down in their petty squabbles over scraps.

Here, you gambled the prize that so many of your family had coveted. Gambled it, for your peace of mind, that Von Katski, even if you lost, might be remembered as an ally of Ellowie’s people, at the very least. If you couldn’t have your peaceful life, you could at least lay the family down as worthy of respect once more.

No respect that would have occurred to anybody before this, you thought as you paced the False Arboretum, sculptures of fictional trees casting shadows from red and yellow lamps above imitating a sun at dusk. You knew well how to not come across as a threat- it was how you had survived. The Netillians came seeking a docile puppet, and you presented every image of one. A luxuriant fop, somebody easy to control, easy to fool. The Netillian Neo-Nobility had a fetish for blood like yours- and you’d indulged women who sought to make a fool of you. You’d known their plans and gone through anyways, been toyed with by Netillian commanders, and licked at the table scraps of power that were allowed to fall through. The first was what had been most difficult though, if the most necessary to the illusion. Poor, poor Mabel. How furious she was, how poorly she hid it. For though she was the one who insisted most that a king ought to have a wife of status, you remembered well those many years ago, when you were still but boy and girl, that her lips had been the first you’d tasted.

The humiliations were all for a purpose, however. At first, the power you accumulated out of notice was merely for your safety, then, it was for the potential of revolt, as your mind had been turned. If you had gone through with your original plan, to assassinate the Minister of the People of Mittelsosalia, you wouldn’t be in this situation, as the exiled Republic of Ellowie would lose their safe haven…but would you have retained peace of mind? Who could know? This was the path you were now on, and it was far too late to change your mind, to preserve the peace you had rather than risk it all.

Yet the power you accumulated, you thought as you paced the trees, was not enough. It would never be enough, if it was to avoid detection. The people of Ellowie were rising up, and joining with them gave a better chance, but still not good odds. No, the odds you needed…needed to be the equivalent of beginning a duel with a stab through the leg. Such was the benefit of your most recent, and most potent weapon in your arsenal. Netillian Republicans, dreaming of the democracy they had lost to the Military Council which you ostensibly obeyed, as High Protector. When you had finally managed to reach out to them, to meet them, they joined hands with you, with the coming opportunity. They couldn’t offer everything- they could not do that until it was sure that the Defense Party would topple with this effort.

However, they could arrange one thing. A singular bolt in a quiver, that if shot correctly, might be just deadly enough. It was only one chance, and it would have to be a worthy target. Yet with it, would be your declaration of war- and of Ellowie’s independence. A move on the chess board to put the enemy into check, and to force them to sacrifice a piece to defend themselves…

>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.
>Upon an extravagant request for a pair of personal locomotives, personal aircraft, parade floats, would come no small amount of foreign help, that slipped through checkers made ignorant by allegiance or corruption. Soldiers donated from friends of Vynmark, and the aid of a pig-faced man’s company that General Kylborg of Vynmark had said were the finest money could buy…and they were at a discount.
>A chance to send a portion of your forces to strike at the Netillian UGZs- the camps where they kept their own folk, the families and friends of those they intimidated, the political enemies of the Defense Party. With the current goings on, they were shockingly light-garrisoned…
>Something else, requested specially of the Netillian Resistance. It’d have to be something worth it…but something you could do in their place, not something they’d do for you. (Write In)

>>4559041
>>Upon an extravagant request for a pair of personal locomotives, personal aircraft, parade floats, would come no small amount of foreign help, that slipped through checkers made ignorant by allegiance or corruption. Soldiers donated from friends of Vynmark, and the aid of a pig-faced man’s company that General Kylborg of Vynmark had said were the finest money could buy…and they were at a discount.
We need equipment and trained fighters more than anything else. Liberating the UGZs would just add to the masses of untrained and unarmed resistance fighters; they'll be liberated in time anyway. And the first option sounds just a bit too personal and unscrupulous for the king.

>>4559041
>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.
We can murder them, hold them hostage, frame their murders on others, so many options to destabilize Netilian leadership with.

>>4559041
>Upon an extravagant request for a pair of personal locomotives, personal aircraft, parade floats, would come no small amount of foreign help, that slipped through checkers made ignorant by allegiance or corruption. Soldiers donated from friends of Vynmark, and the aid of a pig-faced man’s company that General Kylborg of Vynmark had said were the finest money could buy…and they were at a discount.

>>4559041
>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.

>>4559041
>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.

If we can destabilize the Netillian leadership right before the war kicks off it could really their counter attack, split factions along fault lines and maybe even get the survivors believing their was an attempted coup at work in the homeland.
Plus the King already thought about assassinating Signy, this isn't such a stretch.

What I'm most curious about is why the Iron Hogs haven't been bought by the Republic or the Ellowian Army yet...

>>4559041
>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.
Hitting the leadership is the best application of limited fighting capacity.

>>4559080
Switching to
>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.

>>4559041
>Key members of the Military Council’s highest echelons, invited to a feast, a party. This had been arranged for some time, and not even the recent events were enough to dissuade some of these foolhearty, confident braggarts, who thought themselves invincible…yet held so much power and influence.

>>4559072
Give me more men.

>>4559077
>>4559151
>>4559184
>>4559297
>>4559302
>>4559374
Have a party, role playing as a secessionist holding everybody hostage as he declares independence. Except it wasn't role play.

Writing, but I'm running a game today so I won't be updating until later today, probably.

>>4559184
>What I'm most curious about is why the Iron Hogs haven't been bought by the Republic or the Ellowian Army yet...
This is all things that would have been prearranged, if you didn't take them here, they'd be bought up by those mentioned.

The opening move was most important, you thought as you exited the atrium, back towards where merrymaking was occurring in outright spite of the chaos all about the country. A show of confidence by these members of the so-called new nobility, while at the same time a distraction from it all. You hosted this distraction- a feast and party, actually planned and arranged for quite some time, but fortuitously timed still. This honey trap had, by design and influence of those Republic rebels, also drawn in some very important members of the Military Council’s upper echelons. Not all of them, that would be too good to be true, but four of ten was quite good enough.

They were foolhardy sorts to begin with, and combined with the invincible afterglow of victory and their presumptions that you were but a useful idiot bought handily with the very same things you now entertained them with, they had bumbled into a trap completely unsuspecting. There were less significant members of Netillian upper society about in numbers, yes, but the prime catch were those of the very highest inner circle. They represented much power and influence by themselves, let alone all the hangers-on they had brought.

All in all, it wasn’t difficult to keep that sociable grin on your face as you strode back out amongst the guests. For now, only a few gendarmes were standing about looking ineffectual, but on your timing and signal, plenty more, both uniformed and those disguised as servants, would be ready to spring into action.

“Captain,” you said to one of the officers of your Royal Guard standing at the ready by the stairs up to the grand balcony over the ballroom, “I will be making my grand announcement in five minutes. See to it that the guests are ready to be attended to.”

A stiff salute. “Right away, milord.” He was one of the pick of the litter from the prisoner of war camps. The rank and file of the troops you’d scrounged were far from impressive, save for those leached from the Combined Battalions, but you’d done your best to make sure they had competent leadership. That would at least strengthen their structure, if not their fighting spirit. Or so your advisors told you, including your friend General Kylborg.

An absence at this party was your dear cousin Kamilia. Normally, she wouldn’t be caught dead missing an extravagance like this, and her reputation meant that some certainly eagerly expected her…but she seemed to have found her head very recently. Very oddly so. As though she was a completely different woman- and such oddity would be far more suspect than her absence. So she was shut away, with the excuse of digestive problems. The most shocking thing was how accepting she was of being ordered to do this.

A glance at your watch as you paced leisurely along- a goofy smile and a wave to Lady Warzen in recognition of many a promised and unfulfilled rendezvous. No, you were no stranger to playing the fool for more than a few of these people in one way or another. Yet when you stood over the lot, when they looked up to you today, they’d know for how long you’d been looking down upon them all.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” you shouted from above, and chattering and murmuring continued as you beamed down at the unknowing lot, “Thank you all very much for joining me on this special occasion. Today, we will be celebrating your capture, and imprisonment!”

Confused silence. You just couldn’t help being theatrical here. It wasn’t as though you’d gain anything by keeping them ignorant of their new captivity until you started properly making moves.

“If any of you would seek to escape, I advise you do not make such an attempt. I have instructed my men to not hold back- as you would not do for any of Ellowie.” The Gendarmes marched in, and the servants drew their weapons. Even the supposed escort outside in Netillian Uniform, was made up of Republican turncoats. Or as they would put it, loyalists to the true legitimate government. “I would first like to announce our most distinguished guests,” you said, your smile steady and gentle, inverse to the threat you now presented yourself as, “Our most honored guests of the Military Council’s most senior members…”

>Roll 1d10 four times to see who has been caught in the net. If you get a repeat number, roll again until you do not have a repeat roll.

>1- The Supreme Commander-Militant, Marshall of the Armies
>2- Vice-Commander in Chief
>3- General of Internal Affairs
>4- General of the Kommissariat
>5- General of Finance
>6- General of Industry
>7- General of Public Welfare
>8- Arch-Admiral of the Navy
>9- Luftmeister General
>10- General of Foreign Affairs

Rolled 4, 8, 10, 2 = 24 (4d10)

>>4560302

>>4560320
One per post if you will, only counting first one.

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>4560302

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>4560302

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>4560302
Come on dice, daddy needs the Navy.

>>4560320
>>4560417
>>4560456
>>4560465
>The Marshall of the entire armed forces
>The Kommissariat
>The airforce commander
Holy fucking shit. Not to mention the public welfare general will no doubt cause domestic disturbance.

>>4560474
I assume the Supreme Commander-Militant is probably head of the Council as a whole as well given that its a military junta, which makes it even better lol.

It's pretty good, it'd only be better if we had gotten both the Supreme and the Vice Commander for maximum confusion. Hopefully this way people will think the Vice Commander is trying to take over while the Supreme is indisposed. I am however very very happy we got the Kommissariat. That'll cause all sorts of disruption.

Nice, this is a really a good haul.

What a crop it was. A couple of old faces from Langenachtfest, and a couple more. They would be having words with each other if given the chance. “…Good Luftmeister General, you needn’t worry about the flight of the Black Eagles any longer. Sir General of Public Welfare, how nice of you to check. Ah, the Kommissariat General, looking dapper, but who could possibly grace me further than his eminence, the Supreme Commander-Militant, Marshall of Netilland’s Armies?”

Ah, if only the Vice-Commander in Chief could have been convinced to come. A complete decapitation would have been artful indeed, but what you caught was still nothing to sneeze at, especially for one whom most expected nothing from.

“I rather admired your rise to power, Lord Supreme Commander-Militant,” you lectured to the stunned crowd, “You said everything the people wanted to hear, but more importantly, what the army wanted to hear. You’ve a talent for politics, that is undeniable. Yet of strategy and tactics? You could stand to improve your cunning, certainly. You saw what you wanted in me, much like Netilland saw what they wanted in you,” a wave of your finger, taunting, “Pity, pity. Maybe you can slip out of this predicament and learn for next time. Until then, continue to enjoy my hospitality, guests of honor, as well as the rest of you. Your new cage is very well appointed, after all.”

So you left them gawping, murmuring, none so lacking in sense to raise a loud protest when surrounded by your gendarmes and armed servants. The game had started, and though you had cheated your way into being a few moves ahead, it was time to make the next one. So, you met with a couple of involved people. Not an official council by any means, but those you could hear the advice of. No proper council would include your head maid, after all, but outside of pomp and procedure, you trusted her words enough to hear them on an equal stage. Experience begat knowledge, and Mabel had shed enough blood for you for her to drown in it. As a monarch, it was only expected for a servant to act without question. As a man, however, your debt to her could never be repaid.

The other figure was a representative of Netillian resurgent republicanism, a paper pusher who had kept out of the way of controversy, but had apparently made no small number of preparations for this. A squat, blonde Netinauk who had a tired look in his eyes, as though he had been awoken far too early for a task he didn’t want any part of.

“Mabel. Herr Maenesko,” the former bowed deeply, while the Netillian apparently had no inclination towards courtly manners. The opposite side of the coin from the neo-nobility, those who turned their nose up at any nobility or royal airs. “We’ve many a prisoner this evening. Most important among them, the Supreme Commander-Militant, the Kommissariat General, the Luftmeister General, and the General of Public Welfare. Would you mind informing my servant of the significance of such, Sublieutenant?”

“The most important decisions of the army pass through the Supreme Commander-Militant,” the blonde man said with a stifled yawn, “That is disruption enough, of course, as suddenly necessary authority becomes either unobtainable or requiring of messy expedience, but more than that, the Supreme Commander-Militant bound the other heads of government together. Their rivalries will certain have no barriers now. The same is true of the structure of the Kommissariat, and the air force certainly did not need this removal of their high authority. Public Welfare…admittedly, their absence will not help anything, but I doubt the army will miss him terribly. I’d consider that he is a part of the high council more valuable than his proper role. The most vital things are that the Kommissariat will be in chaos, as the state’s enforcement mechanism, and that the Vice-Commander in Chief will struggle to take command of the ship without some measure of struggle.”

“So then,” you moved to a small table and poured yourself a glass of white wine, “What to do with this catch, hm?” You had your own ideas, but you wanted to hear those of others, first.

Maenesko had clearly been thinking about it too. “They should be kept prisoner until the reinstatement of the Republics, so they can be put on trial for treason. The knowledge in their heads has value, and they have worth as hostages.”

“Hm,” a sip of wine. Dry as a desert. “And you, Mabel?”

“Kill them.” She said coolly, “Their Supreme Commander Militant most importantly of all. If the Netillians put all of their effort into rescuing him, we may not be able to prevent his recapture. There is only one way to ensure that we have no risk of losing them as hostages, and that is to let them believe they are still alive, while we have made them impossible to recapture.”

Maenesko blinked. “…I know the men of the NLF would love to see Netillian high officers lynched, but I don’t think that’s a wise course of action.”

“They would not be publicly executed. They would be disposed of quietly and without notice, with every effort made to signal they are still present. Still in a position to cause apprehension amongst those who would take higher positions for their own.” Mabel looked to you, and bowed her head, “It is his Majesty’s decision either way, not Netilland’s, be they Republic or no.”

The Sublieutenant was not swayed. “If the Republic of Netilland was returned, his Majesty would find that handing over those who destroyed it would wipe away decades of enmity. There’s more to think about than the war of today.”

Frankly, Maenesko’s overtures were being directed to the wrong person. The twitching of Mabel’s eyebrows told that she was immensely irritated with the man’s sarcastic tone in using your title, and truly, he would have found more favorable ground with the Ellowian Republic’s men, rather than you. Yet, his words were considered nevertheless.

It only took the one glass of wine to reach a decision on that, as well as finalizing your thoughts on the other important step to take, now.

>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
>These high members of the Military Council were too risky to keep around anywhere but in pieces in the ground. Their usefulness extended to them being kept out of the hands of those they ruled over.
>Other?
Also-
>Keep your insurrection secret for now. That would let you prepare for a potentially more decisive strike with your relatively low number of troops, with time and preparation, though time seemed rather short now…
>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.
>Other?

>>4560922
>Other?
Kill 1- The Supreme Commander-Militant, Marshall of the Armies and 4- General of the Kommissariat
And keep the other two alive and unknowing of the others fates, if possible it will help us fake it and the ones left alive won't be worth too much should they escape.
Also
>Keep your insurrection secret for now. That would let you prepare for a potentially more decisive strike with your relatively low number of troops, with time and preparation, though time seemed rather short now…

>>4560922
>>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
>Keep your insurrection secret for now. That would let you prepare for a potentially more decisive strike with your relatively low number of troops, with time and preparation, though time seemed rather short now…

>>4560922
>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.
Winning the hearts of the people is the most important thing.

>>4560922
>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
Any kind of rescue effort will start with thorough recon. If the hostages are dead, Netillians will know it, and we won't know that they know.
Also, they'll be immensely useful for political trade after the war. Ellowie still has to contend with Twaryi, after all.
>BUT: hide them, or at least the Supreme Commander-Militant, where Netillians won't find them: in Mittelsosalia.
>Keep every hostage under 24/7 supervision with orders to kill them in the event of possible recapture.

>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.
It's important for our future to join the rebellion before it looks like it can win. If we join in too late, we'll be seen as an opportunist and will have no end of political problems later.
>BUT: do it after we have moved the prisoners to Mittelsosalia.

>>4560922
>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?

>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.

Maybe one of the weaker willed ones can be convinced to make an admission of crimes over the radio in return for amnesty if the war starts taking a turn against Nettiland. The Ellowian airforce might be convinced to drop some finely notarized leaflets telling the Nettilian citizens what radio channel to tune in to to hear the crimes their government has committed against them.

>>4560922
>>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
>>Keep your insurrection secret for now. That would let you prepare for a potentially more decisive strike with your relatively low number of troops, with time and preparation, though time seemed rather short now…

Mabel's plan is dumb because any attempt by the Netillians to rescue the hostages would be devastating regardless of whether or not they actually succeed. Our best chance lies in convincing the Netillians that occupied Ellowie isn't worth fighting to the death over and that the only way to prevent their military from collapsing entirely is to pull back and focus on other threats. If they make our territory their focus in order to rescue the hostages or to reap vengeance for our having murdered them, we have no realistic way of stopping them and it won't matter whether the hostages are actually dead or not, because we will be.

Our best move is to hold on to the hostages as a bargaining chip and make it clear that they'll be returned safely at the conclusion of hostilities, but any attempt to rescue them will result in their deaths. This way the Netillians will have to fight the war without their leaders, but it won't be worth it for them to strike back at us in order to free them because they'll risk losing everything.

>>4560922
>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?

>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.

>>4560922
>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.

Wladyslaw still needs to deal with his own Republicans after this, having a public declaration as anons have mentioned is pretty important PR-wise for his chances of keeping the monarchy after this and keeping the prisoners would make it easier for the post-war government.

>>4560922
It is a difficult balance

>Keep these high officials prisoner. You’d never know when they’d be useful in ways more than denying them to your new foe. What sort of host would kill his guests, anyways?
BUT SEPERATED. That way, anyone we lose won't compromise the others.
Also it would be best to keep the fact that we've captured them a secret as long as possible to increase confusion and keep the Netillians from focusing on Wladyslaw.

>Make your declaration of independence forthright, with all your troops assembled and ready. You would lose any advantage of surprise, but gain the advantage of publicity.
It's a difficult decision between secrecy-safety plus increasing his chances of personal survival versus
maximizing the Ellowian revolt and increasing his chances of political survival after the war.

I also support as >>4561142
suggests for trying to turn one of them.

>>4560930
Kill

>>4560932
>>4560946
>>4561142
>>4561165
>>4561257
>>4561282
>>4561375
Keep prisoner.

>>4561109
Plan to move the prisoners to a more secure place. Well, less accessible place.

>>4561142
>>4561375
See if any of them can't be turned into a useful quote generator. Hell, there's certainly that bioweapon plan that you've been enlightened of...

>>4560930
>>4560932
>>4561165
Keep the mask of servitude up as long as possible.

>>4560946
>>4561109
>>4561142
>>4561257
>>4561282
>>4561375
Raise the banner of Ellowie once again! The only difference is that the eagle has a crown instead of laurels.

Writing, won't be too long an update because the question of how to handle said prisoners seems like something necessary to address.

Mabel was a bloody minded woman, and maybe you were responsible for making her into such, with what you had asked of her over your lives. Alas, her counsel was not in line with your conclusion- the Netillian’s was. There was a risk of losing the hostages were they kept alive, yes, but there was so, so much more to gain with them, and if you were already gambling anyways, should you not do so with the mind that you would win?

“We will be keeping our guests interned, and alive,” you declared. After all, what sort of host would murder his guests? The attendance of your parties would suffer terribly if you had such a reputation. “They will prove useful as bargaining chips, and perhaps…turned against one another. If only one was convinced to cooperate for his own benefit, we could make them into a machine to speak out against their own. Though, because of that, we will keep them separate. The last thing we can allow is for them to work together, hm?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Mabel bowed reverently, without a single question of your decision.

“Furthermore,” you said, “Mabel, retrieve my uniform…no, not of the High Protector. The recreation of that of the office of the King. If I am to declare war upon Netilland, I shall not do so wearing the costume they prepared for a baboon. I must needs give my people hope, and mine enemies fear.”

“…The Netillian Army may struggle to fear you, mighty king,” Maenesko said dismissively, “Not to rain upon your parade.”

“Perhaps,” you said, “But I have learned deception well, don’t you think? Well enough to capture my counterpart in ruling, certainly.” Maenesko had no pessimistic response to that. “Speaking of such, they are to be kept in custody, but I have contemplated upon whom to give them to.” After all, they would be a lovely gift to wrap up and send to your counterparts in Mittelsosalia, but they could be more directly useful to you here…

>The Black Eagles commanded the skies. It would be child’s play to send them south, where they were less likely to be able to be rescued.
>As it was said, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Your prizes would remain here.
>Other?

>>4561435
>>The Black Eagles commanded the skies. It would be child’s play to send them south, where they were less likely to be able to be rescued.
Can we send them off before we make the big speech.

>>4561435
Where would we be sending them to southwards? Isn't Mittlesosalia to the west?

>>4561443
...Yes, actually. Geography brain fart.

>>4561451
Alright,
>As it was said, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Your prizes would remain here.

Wladyslaw needs to hold some cards of his own in order to deal with the Republicans.

>>4561435
>As it was said, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Your prizes would remain here.

>>4561435
>Other?
Split them up, Kommissar and Luftgeneral to the East and the Supreme + Public official with us.
This is both to split the Netillians attention and if something should happen to the East we won't lose everything.
It'd be catastrophic to lose the Supreme, and he's the most likely to be targeted for rescue but I don't like the idea of giving up our most powerful hostage.
If this compromise doesn't get backing then I default to
>As it was said, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Your prizes would remain here.

>>4561435
>As it was said, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Your prizes would remain here.

>>4561489
Support. Let's make it even harder for them and not have all our eggs in one basket.

>>4561489
Sure why not

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4561441
Send them off. And yes, you can.

>>4561460
>>4561470
>>4561489
Keep them close. Within canoodling distance.

>>4561489
>>4561506
>>4561530
Split the loot, as it were.

As this is tied up, I'll roll 1 for keep all and 2 for splitting. Writing after.

“I have thought it best to share,” you said to Maenesko conversationally, “After all, why let my acquaintances down south be starved of company?” More importantly, it prevented all of the prizes from being potentially swept up all at once. “The Kommissar General and the Luftmeister General will be taking a holiday in Mittelsosalia with some fellow exiles. Some small irony that the Luftmeister will be traveling away on a passenger plane, hm? The risk flying at night should be small, especially with the advance warning that they will be coming. Not that I have informed of the exact nature of the cargo- lest they be tempted to shoot it down instead, hmm hmm.”

“…Did you plan even that part?” Maenesko asked with a hint of surprise.

“Hm? No. I cannot see the future. I simply prepared a vast array of options.” You smiled and put a hand on the table with the wine, “Help yourself, Sublieutenant. I’ve preparations to make for next morning.” You would need the sleep you could get in the time you had left- next morning, you would declare independence before your assembled people, just when the waning night began to show suspicion that the party had not ended as planned. By then, the most important prisoners would be secure. The rest, whilst of some value, were not nearly so influential when it came to authority. Colonels and Captains were not quite small fry, neither were businessmen or socialites, but the minutiae of hostages could be handled by those with the time. Your task was to lead a nation- and in this case, the violent rebirth of one. Your attention could only be spread so thin.

------

The light came, and you strode down the halls toward the courtyard balcony, flanked by the commander of your Royal Guards, as well as the self-appointed leader of the NLF forces, a man who had once ordered your assassination, apparently, but was now quite willing to work alongside you- Drachen. He had an exceedingly familiar looking blonde head and sharp green eyes, but, the world revolved around coincidences. You’d keep a close eye on him nevertheless. For now, that you appeared together would be an important signal to all those who would be listening on radio- not expecting this, but surely welcoming it. Your uniform fit perfectly, tailored and touched up just for this, and a crimson cape billowed behind with each step. You appeared before your assembled Gendarmes, and some unfamiliar faces that to the unenlightened might seem like spectating bystanders, were it not for the mottling of old Netillian uniform pieces here and there. All looked up, expectant, waiting for what they must have known was coming, but were waiting for the words for.

“Men and women of Ellowie,” you began, a microphone, a useful gadget but hardly necessary for your well trained speaking voice, “I bid you this morning to remember the history of our people, as others would tell us. That we bent the knee to Alexander, that we now bend the knee to Netilland- that we are shamed, defeated, cowed and weak. That a fool was appointed your High Protector, and those who were not servants would be slaves. Hear me now, Ellowie!”

You made a gesticulation towards the sky, allowing fervor to inspire your tone, “I am King of a proud and noble people! You looked first to the skies, now look all around you! Our countrymen now fight to the west, and I tell you, on this day, we fight inside our country as well! We have not been conquered yet, countrymen, comrades! My brethren! In these coming days, we will see who is shamed, cowed, and feeble! We shall see who are the worms and the dogs! We rise once again, as I now declare war upon the Military Council of Netilland!”

A fist raised, its back to the crowd, “I bid return to you, my people, to stand amongst you not as your king and overlord, not as your high protector, but as your Liberator! The Judge Above and our Saints look down upon us, and see no wretched lot deserving of their pitiful fate! They see warriors, who shall do justly as is their due in these benighted times! So help us God, we shall not disappoint our ancestors with anything but VICTORY!!”

Raised fists and rousing cheers, deafening, from below. Cries that sounded as though they’d been doing their best to break loose for months, even if those who bore their voices did not know it. Tingling doubt in the back of your mind wondered if you would go down in history as a fool or as a hero- only then, though. As you spoke, you could not allow anything but utter confidence.

The cat was out of the bag, and your hat was in the ring. Perhaps you could have made better preemptive strikes had you hid your intents until the last moment, but in these changing times, you had to establish who you were and what your side was before it was certain that victory was even a possibility. Of course, in your plots, victory was quite possible- but few could see such yet.

File: AEL_CF_org.jpg (186 KB, 1000x1000)

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Now, though, was the hard part. Making what gains you could in limited time before the Netillian Eastern Front woke to the danger now before them. You only commanded less than thirty thousand, now assembled in the areas about Perlowieza, your capital, but more would come. The men of the Combined Battalions, for one, as well as citizens who had not been so inspired as to join the resistance before. The resistance itself would also involve itself with you, more than their current contribution. Yet, time was of the essence. Your numbers would grow, but your capabilities would still be far less than the Netillians, if you did not exploit your opportunities to the fullest.

Another reason to act decisively early was the factor of the Netillian Republicans. They had worked hard to conceal themselves, and had survival in mind. If the Ellowian uprising and offensives did not pan out, they did not want to be destroyed in supporting them. However, if chaos and defeats could be inflicted, who could say how many would turn coat and join you? You’d been provided with concentrations of them to avoid- and avoid them you would, or rather, you’d give them the chance to get out of the way, until their allegiances could realign themselves.

For now, though- the initial objectives. They were all of strategic or tactical significance- but you’d likely only have time to decisively strike at one while it was still weak- at least, with sufficient force to make it a guarantee. Otherwise, it would be an unsafe gamble for greed…

>Select what to attack from a list of objectives. The more you go for, the more your forces will be spread thin, and the less likely the chance of success. The exact distribution of your forces to each objective, if multiple are decided upon, will be decided after this. Keep in mind that the likelihood of success will depend on a major investment of force- you’re not likely to get anything with a bare minimum investment besides a bloody nose.
>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.
>Prisoner of War Camps- Thousands of potential experienced troops are locked up, and though perhaps not all in the best health and lacking equipment, will surely be valuable source of experienced manpower.
>Retaking UGZs- a public appearance coup for sure, though liberating masses of your practically imprisoned citizenry might not give much in the way of soldiers.
>Territory armories and supply dumps, chock full of equipment. Never a bad target.
>A trio of significant railheads between the north and south of Ellowie. Taking and holding them could paralyze Netillian communication lines.
>Quick movement to isolate Netillian army units- and prepare to destroy them. Early victories would be worth their weight in gold.
>Other potential strategic objectives to add to the list can be presented as votes.

>>4561713
>Prisoner of War Camps- Thousands of potential experienced troops are locked up, and though perhaps not all in the best health and lacking equipment, will surely be valuable source of experienced manpower.
>Territory armories and supply dumps, chock full of equipment. Never a bad target.

More manpower and equipment is crucial.

>>4561713
>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.

>Prisoner of War Camps- Thousands of potential experienced troops are locked up, and though perhaps not all in the best health and lacking equipment, will surely be valuable source of experienced manpower.

Ok so hear me out. The Ellowie air force is operating on limited time, they need places to refuel, for repair, and taking these air fields would provide that. Not only that, we just took out the head of their entire military AND the air force. The confusion is no doubt super strong and taking out Netillian air fields will compound Ellowie's air advantage. We can hopefully see Ellowie's planes in the sky continue to dominate the conflict enough to achieve victory. Not only that, supplies, reinforcements, and mobilization will be made easier to bolster our position through these air fields, and the men we free from prisoner of war camps can be equipped this way.

>>4561722
I'll switch to this, hopefully Ellowian CAS can help carry the Royalists through the other objectives.

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>>4561713
>Resistance Cuirassiers
Pic related

>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.

POW camps are tempting, but they need equipment to become a fighting force. Meanwhile the airfields give us an immediate force multiplier AND a logistical channel AND favor with Ellowian Army.
It's important to try to capture any spare parts to Ellowian planes we can find.

POW camps should be the immediate second objective, both for the manpower and to prevent the camp administration starting to kill the prisoners.

>>4561713
Is it bad that I don't want to send Wielzci into danger?
>>4561722
I'll support this, it's for the best really. With it we'd have that total air domination and a reliable way to contact the Ellowian Army. I don't think we'll ever have equal forces with the Netillians even if we were to actually take every objective on the list so we need to set a good foundation on our strengths.

I guess one bright side of not taking more objectives is that the Netillians will have to defend or abandon them in hostile territory. But it's really bad that the Army units on the border with Twaryi will have a chance to prepare. And I really, really hope they don't coordinate with the Twaryians. They've done it once before.

>>4561713
>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.

>>4561713
>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.
One for us to help ensure victory.
>Retaking UGZs- a public appearance coup for sure, though liberating masses of your practically imprisoned citizenry might not give much in the way of soldiers.
One for the people, whose continued support is of the utmost importance.

>>4561762
+1

>>4561917
Public support is nothing if you don't have strength.
>>4561722
This

>>4561713
>>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.
>A trio of significant railheads between the north and south of Ellowie. Taking and holding them could paralyze Netillian communication lines.

>>4561713
>>Major airfields in Ellowian territory- four are within reach, and taking them might not only deny them to the Netillians and take them for your allies, but give you their materiel as well.
>>Territory armories and supply dumps, chock full of equipment. Never a bad target.

The most important goal is to limit the ability of the Netillian army to respond rapidly to our rebellion and operate in Ellowie without having to wait for extensive reinforcements from the north.. POW camps and UGZs are soft and vulnerable targets and will be liberated in time as long as their guards aren't reinforced. It's more critical to use the element of surprise to seize as much valuable equipment from the Netillians as possible before they can use it against us, which of course has the dual benefit of providing equipment for the new manpower when we liberate the camps. But liberating them first without being able to equip them will just lead to chaos.

>>4561722
>>4561728
>>4561825
>>4561958
The Four Fields, and POW Camps.

>>4561762
>>4561874
>>4561934
The Airfields alone.

>>4561917
Airfields and UGZs.

>>4562169
Railheads and Airf.

>>4562259
Airfeel and Supply/Equipment dumps.

Airfields- IIIIIIIIII
POW Camps-||||
UGZs-|
Railheads-|
Armories-|

Narrowing investments, then. Writing!

>>4561825
>Is it bad that I don't want to send Wielzci into danger?
Have faith in half your former company.
Perhaps with the other half that got left behind too.

Was delayed making dinner, update soon.

The primary objective was undoubtedly the airfields. If your intelligence sources even had the smallest big of accuracy, the famed Black Eagles, the Ellowian Republic’s air force that had been so unwisely allowed to escape, had a limited operational time. Sosaldt had plenty of natural resources, but only so many refineries for turning crude oil into fuel in quantities suitable for sustained operations. Moreover, the small amount of parts they had for planes, operating from the infamously aerospace-harsh dust choked Sosaldt, meant that they were operating on borrowed time. Proper, large airfields, in the home turf, would be an immense boon for them. With your shortage of heavy equipment, you’d need that air force as much as your new allies to the west did.

The secondary objective would be POW camps identified as housing many former members of the Ellowian Army that hadn’t fled with the Republic down the Funnel. This stock was where more than a few Combined Battalions got their troops, but most did not volunteer. Now that the battle was on again, you had little doubt they’d find their fighting spirit once again. They wouldn’t be all fighting fit, of course, and they’d lack for equipment, but just a bit more investment and your troops would have a much needed injection of experienced manpower.

No field commander were you, but you still had plenty of say in who would be allocated where. Your general staff advised against sending all your troops available to you- the capital had to be defended, after all, and reserves were important to keep.

Four airfields- two Prisoner of War camps. The airfields would be more heavily defended, but they would be the main effort. It’d be fantastic if you could capture all of them while you still held the initiative, but you could take half of them and still be satisfied, to be true. Overwhelming force was advised wherever a major attack was to take place- the faster and more true the victory, the greater the chance of spoils, after all…

>Allocate formations in your army to handle different objectives. Attack success will be decided by the number of troops and a d6 rolled for each separate formation. On a 1-3, the formation does not add a victory to the total needed to overcome the objective. On a 4-6, a victory point is added. As an example, an objective that requires two VPs to obtain is attacked by three units. They roll a 4, a 5, and a 1. This totals to 2 VP and the objective is taken. The degree of victory is determined by how many 4s, 5s, or 6s are rolled, and a high degree of victory may mean a greater boon obtained from taking the objective.

>Infantry regiments are the base attacking unit. Artillery regiments can participate in an attack in order to turn the lowest rolled dice into a 6. Hussars and Royal Guards add one to their combat roll, and the participation of the mechanized company in a battle adds two to a single roll.

>Keep in mind that a counterattack should be expected- it would be wise to keep some reserves back.
Objectives-
>Alfzen Airfield- (West)
The largest and most well defended airfield, houses a well-stocked supply base as well. Requires 3 VPs to take.
>Nowak Airfield- (North)
Of the four major airfields listed as objectives, this is the smallest, but that does not mean it is not invaluable. Requires 2 VPs to take.
>Sevesk Airfield-(West)
Still undergoing repairs, this airfield is sizeable but lightly guarded, and has little in equipment as well. Only a little concerted effort would restore it at this point. Requires 1 VP to take.
>Zofia Airfield-(South)
Between Nowak and Alfzen in size, this airfield is closest to the border, and thus heavily equipped with anti-aircraft guns. Requires 2 VPs to take.
>POW Camp North-
Both POW camps are filled with mostly the rank and file, and are guarded more against insurgents and prisoner uprisings than against a proper army. Both require 1 VP to take.
>POW Camp South-
Requires 1 VP to take.

The troops available to you are listed in the attached image here- >>4561713
If you think an objective not worth attacking, you can opt to not send anybody there. The Royal Guards are expected to defend the Capital and your person, but you may send them out- and perhaps accompany them, if you wish.
Any troops not sent will be presumed to be in ready reserve or defending. Hussars, as cavalry troops, can move to a defensive posture after operations, but any foot troops will not be able to move from their objective to anywhere else once they go. At least, not quickly. The Capital can be considered equidistant from all of them. Their general direction is an indicator of how close the objectives are to one another.

>>4562642
>Alfzen Airfield- (West)
1st-4th Gendarmes, 1st-2nd Royal Artillery
>Sevesk Airfield-(West)
5th-6th Gendarmes, Royal Curassiers
>POW Camp North
1st and 2nd ERA Regiments, Royal Hussars
>POW Camp South
1st and 2nd NLF Regiments, Volunteer Hussars
>Reserve
Royal Guards, 1st and 2nd W. Volunteers

>>4562642
>>Alfzen Airfield- (West)
1st, 2nd, 3rd Gendarmes, Royal Hussars, 1st Artillery
>Nowak Airfield- (North)
1st and 2nd NLF, 2nd Artillery
>>Sevesk Airfield-(West)
1st and 2nd ERA
>>Zofia Airfield-(South)
4th, 5th, and 6th Gendarmes, Volunteer Hussars
>POW Camps
Decline attack
>Reserves
Royal Guards, 1st and 2nd Volunteers

>>4562642
>Alfzen Airfield- (West) 3 VPs
Royal Hussars, Volunteer Huassars, 1st & 2nd Gendarmes

>Sevesk Airfield-(West) 1 VP
1st W. Volunteers, 1st Royal Artillery
Guarenteed capture with artillery bonus

>Zofia Airfield-(South) 2 VPs
3rd, 4th, 5th & 6th Gendarmes

>POW Camp North- 1 VP
2nd W. Volunteers, 2nd Royal Artillery
Guarenteed capture with artillery bonus, though im hesitant to be using heavy ordinance on a POW Camp.

>POW Camp South- 1 VP
1st ERA Regmiment, 1st NLF Regiment

Reserve
Royal Guards Regiment, 2nd NLF Regiment, 2nd ERA Regiment, Resistance Cuirassier

Keeping the Tanks in reserve to be ready for a counterattack. Ignoring Nowak, hopefully it being the smallest airfield means that if Netilland operates out of it, we can keep them bottled up with bombing or if were close enough artillery bombardment.
With the artillery bonus, we can atleast secure an airfield and some manpower.

>>4562666
I support this but I'd change it so the Cuirassier joins the Alfzen attack, since from the sounds of it (could be wrong here) any Hussars will be able to return to the Capital or at least participate in defending any counterattacks so that gives us 5 Regiments to defend meaning we should use the tonks.
Also kinda hoping any initial counterattack is weakened due to confusion and the surprise of the outbreak because we know for certain the one after that will be much harder. We gotta gamble a little since we don't have the numbers against a full Netilland invasion. Time is not on our side.

>>4562642
>Alfzen Airfield- (West) 3 VPs
Royal Hussars, 1st NLF Regiment, 1st ERA Regiment, Resistance Cuirassiers, 1st&2nd Royal Artillery
This is the most valuable airfield first and foremost in terms of materiel. It's useless to have airfields if the planes can't fly, and that's why we need this one with a guarantee. 2x (Infantry + artillery) gives 2 guaranteed VP, cavalry + tanks gives another guaranteed VP (>>4562666 only gives ~44% chance of success, for example)

>Sevesk Airfield-(West) 1 VP
1st W. Volunteers, Volunteer Hussars,
~83% chance of success

>Zofia Airfield-(South) 2 VPs
3rd, 4th, 5th & 6th Gendarmes, 2nd NLF Regiment,
~81% chance of success

>POW Camp North- 1 VP
2nd W. Volunteers, 1st & 2nd Gendarmes,
~87% chance of success

>Reserve
Royal Guards Regiment, 2nd ERA Regiment

>>4562774
>Switch POW Camp North to POW Camp South, since we have another objective in the south.

Just so you all know, I won't be updating until evening most likely. I'll call votes once I do.

>>4562774
Supporting

>>4562661
4 Inf, 2 Art
2 Inf, Cur
2 Inf, Hus
2 Inf, Hus

>>4562665
3 Inf, Hus, Art
2 Inf, Art
2 Inf
3 Inf, Hus

>>4562666
2 Hus, 2 Inf
1 Inf, 1 Art
4 Inf
1 Inf, 1 Art
2 Inf

>>4562706
As above, but Cur in first

>>4562774
>>4563768
1 Hus, 2 Inf, Cur, 2 Art
1 Inf 1 Hus
5 Inf
3 Inf

Well, this is awkward. You all managed to go completely differently for each of your setups. I'll go for >>4562774 's plan of action, as it has, er, unconditioned support. I suppose the difference anyways is in minutiae save for handing the most dangerous objective.

Anyways. This means I'll need four sets of rolls. 3d6 for the first (a formality as two are turned to sixes and the best roll has two added to it, but hey. The next, 2d6, then 5d6, then 3d6.

Rolled 5, 3, 5 = 13 (3d6)

>>4563918

Rolled 4, 3 = 7 (2d6)

>>4563918
Come on dice, daddy needs a new country!

Rolled 1, 2, 6, 1, 2 = 12 (5d6)

>>4563918

>>4563930
noice :/

Rolled 1, 2, 2 = 5 (3d6)

>>4563918

Oh goddammit.

>Battle of Alfzen Airfield- 8, 6, 6- Incredible Victory
>Battle of Sevesk Airfield- 4, 4- Passable Victory
>Battle of Zofia Airfield- 1, 2, 6, 1, 2- Stalled
>Battle of Camp South- 1, 2, 2- Defeat

So the troops were sent off- the heaviest hand sent towards the large and well-appointed Alfzen Airfield. Apparently, it was the heart of Netillian air operations within occupied Ellowie- to take it would deny it both to the Netillians while rewarding it to yourself. An appealing prospect. The other objectives paled in significance, but were no less prizes. In the end, you sent out much of your troops in offensive action, seeking to gain as much as you could in the vulnerable hours while you knew what was happening, and the ignorant new foe did not. What remained in Perlowieza was but the local police, the Royal Guards, joined at the hip to your person, and the second regiment provided by the Eastern Resistance Army- perhaps more loyal and faithful in you than even the Royal Guard, yet, such was to be expected of units that were, perhaps disconcertingly, composed more of youths and adolescents than not.

Some scruples had prices that you could not presently afford.

The day passed, and much of what you attended to were matters of governance. Ensuring the necessary bureaucratic infrastructure was settling into positions necessary to be replaced once the Netillian bookkeepers and watchmen had either fled or been seized. If you were to wage successful war, after all, you needed the mechanisms of a nation, not a chaotic band of freedom fighters. Else, the moment the initial energies were lost, you would simply be ground down. Even now, the smelters needed to be hot, powder had to be mixed, munitions had to be rolling out, to sustain the bare minimum of the exertion of war. Without such at least begun, even your initial battles would leave you starving for resources.

As the sun began to set, the general of your army, for what it was, Major General Walyz, sent for a meeting with you to give you the final reports of today’s efforts. This would be the first you’d be hearing of them- you were simply too occupied the rest of the day. Walyz was young for a general, ambitious, but you trusted his abilities less than those of the commanders in the field. You were no military mastermind yourself, but such was why you directed the objectives, and not the battles themselves. Walyz was more executer of your will than tactical planner, in that capacity. A role that suited him, as a former general staff officer rather than field general.

"Your Majesty,” he saluted you, not a drop of grey in his dark hair but lines around his eyes and jowls forming, “The offensive to the west was a complete success. Alfzen Airfield and the surrounding territories were stormed forcefully, and the withering artillery barrage allowed our infantry to take the flanks whilst our maneuver troops assaulted the airfield itself. The shock of it was such that the airfield and all of the equipment upon it was taken, unharmed. Aircraft, fuel, guns, munitions, a treasure trove. Our casualties are minimal, and many a prisoner has been taken.”

Yet with little place to keep prisoners. The planes would require a new coat of paint, as well as pilots, though. Perhaps the air force would be willing to hand over some spares. The skilled fliers had all fled in their entirety to Mittelsosalia. “Very good. What of the other objectives?”

“Sevesk Airfield and space to defend it whilst ensuring its operations are secure were taken successfully,” Major General Walyz sniffed, “But the attack was less swift and certain. The airfield was taken, but equipment was sabotaged and the enemy was able to retreat, albeit in poor order. Workers are already rushing to put the airfield into working order, they should be finished by tomorrow.” He scratched his chin, “The Women Volunteers conducted themselves well. The Hussars were concerned that they would be unable to fight with proper spirit.”

“A rifle is fearsome no matter whose hands bear it,” you said, “We are in little place to be choosy about the composition of our fighting force.”

“That is true, your majesty, though, the women do make their fears known. Of brutality exacted upon them for what some might consider a knife in the back…there is some pride to be had in falling in battle, your majesty, but to be savaged is a humiliation that terrifies many of your gentler servants, I am told.”

“Then they will surely have realized that the only way to avoid such is to fight ferociously,” you said coolly. No humiliation would be greater than if this ended in defeat, after all. No memorials were built to the vanquished, not by this manner of conqueror. “And the other objectives?”

Walyz was silent, nervous. “That is, your majesty…” he finally spat out.

“Major General, I have lived no small portion in constant fear for my life,” you said calmly, “I have known the loss of family, friends, and have seen ambitions and dreams come to naught. I am no soft child that cannot bear the burden of misfortune. Tell me, and do not attempt any benevolent deception.”

“I would never, your majesty.”

“Yes, you would,” you said dimly, “As many. Now tell me.”

Rolled 2, 2, 2, 4 = 10 (4d4)

“Five regiments were directed to take Zofia Airfield and surrounding objectives, as per your instructions, Majesty, but they ran into difficulties. The heavy weaponry of the airfield itself aided the enemy in fending off multiple assaults, and portions of forces outran the lines. The disruption of forming up again cost valuable time. We’ve taken many casualties, and been forced to besiege the field for now. Use of it for aircraft is denied, but we do not have it, either. Our operations have stalled.”

“We have not been routed yet, then.” It could have been worse, though the large commitment of troops was meant to, failing graceful victory, roll over the opposition with its mass alone. That it was halted was a poor portent. “What of the prisoner of war camp, also to the south?”

“A failure, your Majesty,” Walyz said as though it were punched out of his guts, “The prisoner of war camp itself was lightly defended, but our troops were slow in approaching it. Reinforcements arrived on the flanks before an attack even began, and their commander interpreted our intent, and made the first strike. Our forces were sent sprawling, and I doubt that prisoner of war camp will be an easy target any longer.”

“Damnation.” You allowed yourself a curse, “Very well then. What further news? The Military Council will struggle to ready a counterblow with its leadership in our hands, but individuals with initiative cannot be discounted.”

“…Ah, well…”

>Rolling 4d4 for countermovements:
>1-2-Infantry
>3-Mobile/Maneuver
>4-Mechanized Guards
>1, North, 2, West, 3, South, 4, Whatever came before

“Scouts and air recon from the Republic have reported a massing of troops to the west,” Walyz said, his composition regained, “They are mostly made up of line infantry. We’ve unclear intelligence on what formations under whose command, but they are likely to include penal troops under supervision of a few upstart Kommissars. I would not doubt that their intent is to recapture Alfzen Airfield, or at least, prevent it from being used.”

Even you could tell that such was their only real motivation. Reconnaissance had apparently failed to bring up other concentrations with direction, at least not any worth mentioning.

“What are their numbers?” You asked.

“Approximately four regiments,” the Major General told you, “As line regiments they are likely to have artillery to match our own in the region. Our commanders await your direction, your majesty.”

The fight for Zofia Airfield had stalled, but your troops could potentially try for it again, could they not? It was vexing to leave objectives untaken, no matter how much wealth was in the most important one that had been successfully taken. With the heavy attack coming from the west, however, it might be best to withdraw the troops from the south to ready them for another front rather than spending them in operations already squandered. All of your mobile troops were already aligned west- the troops to the south wouldn’t be able to make it in time to the fight anyways, not unless it dragged on, that is.

>Direct your two fronts-
West:
>Move any troops up from your reserves?
>Move any Mobile Troops? (Mobile troops can move quickly enough to go directly to another front or objective instead of only being able to redeploy to the center_.
>Other
And South:
>Deploy any Reserves to the front, or troops back to the center?
>Resume the attack, or hold your place on the line? (Objectives have the necessary VPs needed to take them increased by One)
>Other?
Your present reserves at the center are as listed here- >>4562774 >>4562775 , as well as the assumed locations of other units.

>>4564636
>West:
Move the Royal Guards up.
>South:
3rd-5th Gendarmes to centre, remaining forces focus on the POW Camp.

>>4564636
>West:
Move the 2nd ERA to the west if we're confident there are no threats to the capital.
>South:
Redirect the units that failed the attack on the POW camp to join the attack on Zofia

>>4564795
Supporting, I'd rather keep the Guards in the center, even if just for emergency deployment from somewhere unexpected

>>4564636
>West: concentrate infantry for defence of Alfzen, prepare hussars and cuirassiers for a counterattack on enemy artillery.

>South: redirect the units that failed the attack on the POW camp to join the attack on Zofia

>Other: contact the Republican forces and try to arrange for air support ASAP.

>>4564795
>>4564962
Support
We got some airfields let's get some support.

>>4564685
Royal guards up, redeploy to focus on POWs.

>>4564795
>>4564835
>>4564962
>>4565059
Move one west, try and go for the airfield. Notify interested parties that there are fields for airplanes.

Writing. Should be a short bit before asking for rolls.

Rolled 1, 2, 5 = 8 (3d6)

“Direct our commanders thusly,” you said as you led Major General Walyz towards a map, “The 2nd Eastern Resistance Army regiment shall move west to reinforce our men at Alfzen Airfield. If possible, I would like our maneuver elements to attempt to take our enemies’ artillery. We need all of it that we can get.”

“That will leave but your Royal Guards at this capital, our Majesty.”

“I doubt that the Netillians will be able to make any moves we will not have firm warning of, with our brethren in the skies. Speaking of,” you moved a finger down to Mittelsosalia, “Arrange for them to be told that we have proper facilities for them. We will need their help to keep them for long, anyways. If they could be convinced to help as soon as possible, that would be splendid.”

“I doubt they will be flying any missions today, your Majesty,” Walyz said with an air of pessimism, “Night operations are dangerous, and I doubt they will want to land at a base and stay overnight whilst it is under attack.”

“Then they may come tomorrow. I cannot control them.” A look towards Walyz, “Do you think that they will attack during the night?”

“They are not Twaryians, your Majesty,” Walyz spoke from experience, practically recounting history from his view, “They are not comfortable fighting in the dark. Yet we would be equally disadvantaged if they did.”

So, yes. A distinct possibility at least. “I would also like you to urge our commanders to press the attack upon Zofia Airfield, and for those who were foiled at the southern POW camp to join their fellows in the south to try for that objective. If there has been reinforcement, the help will be needed.” A pause. “Is there a problem with that, Major General?”

“Well, your Majesty, they were rather well beaten, and…”

>Rolling 3d6 for unit recovery. On a 4+, the unit was able to reorganize and/or break off to a degree to be redirected despite defeat.

“…The 2nd Women Volunteers and the 1st Gendarmes Regiments are not in a situation where they can change positions, not quickly, or join an attack,” the Major General confessed, “The 2nd Gendarmes have not reported similar problems.”

“Then send them,” you said firmly, “And tell the others to get a hold of their situations. We cannot suffer chaos in our lines in but our first hours.”

”Right away, your Majesty.”

“Hmph.” You watched Walyz go out the door, then returned to staring at the map. You’d have to suffer for imagining the struggle soon to ensue…

>Roll one set of 4d10 for the fighting at Alfsen. Enemy artillery has nullified your own artillery bonus, but their bonus will not apply for Netillian troops either. Cuirassiers still give a +2 to the lowest roll, and Hussars still have +1 to their rolls. The first two rolls will be for Hussars, the other two for infantry. If the Hussars roll 6s, then they will have successfully attacked enemy artillery. This battle will require 2 VPs to win.
>Roll one set of 6d6 for attacking Zofia Airfield. It now requires 3 VPs to take.

Rolled 9, 1, 8, 8 = 26 (4d10)

>>4565511

>>4565516
Alright I know I said D10 but I meant d6s.
Sorry, hope that didn't blow your luck.

Rolled 4, 1, 3, 1 = 9 (4d6)

>>4565520

>>4565521
Rip, you jinxed it tanq :p

Rolled 6, 1, 4, 2, 1, 3 = 17 (6d6)

>>4565511

>Battle of Alfzen Airfield- 4, 1, 5, 1- Passable Victory
>Battle of Zofia Airfield- 6, 1, 4, 2, 1, 3- Stalemate

When the news came, it was of frustrating indecision.

At Alfzen Airfield, Netillian Line Infantry had made withering attacks upon the areas around and securing the airfield. It was only the timely intervention of the Resistance Curassiers, wielding your army’s few tanks, that snatched victory from potential defeat. Casualties had been manageable, though only just. The airfield, and all of the materiel that had been seized from the victory there, was untouched. Yet, you disliked that your victory there had been followed up with mere sustainment. The Netillians had been driven away, their assault foiled, but mere plain victories were not ideal for the gambles you were making.

Meanwhile, the battle for Zofia Airfield had turned into a protracted, bloody affair. Repeated assaults gained ground in some places while being stopped cold in others, and what was taken was tactically insignificant for securing the airfield. Said airfield was turning into a sturdier fortress by the hour, and the Netillians grew stronger as they were reinforced, whilst your own troops were being bled badly for their efforts. Six entire regiments were tied up in the area, held back by near half their number. Reports from the front claimed helplessness in the face of lacking for heavy support- morale was poor.

It was now late into the night, early morning. The tower clock upon the wall of the room neared four, when you heard your head maidservant’s voice.

“Your Majesty. You should sleep.”

“…How long have you been there?” You turned around to look at Mabel.

“I must always keep watch over your person,” Mabel adjusted her spectacles and smoothed out her black servant’s dress, bedecked with frills and ribbons. “Especially in these times, where more wish you dead than ever. I can watch over you, but I cannot parry a blade you direct at yourself. You will exhaust your body and mind.”

“Mabel, even if I wished to sleep, I cannot now. I am too anxious over the fighting going on,” you said, rubbing your eyes, “Bring me tea, if you please.”

Mabel bowed deeply. “Yes, your Majesty.”

When she returned…so presumptuous, tea for two. Not that you minded her company. But after you had grown into adults, spent years with her by your side, your maidservant’s solemn mask of a placid expression could not hide from you what she could hide from everybody else.

“I notice that you should be resting, as well,” you said as you picked up a fine porcelain teacup. She had put brandy in it- a good maid as always.

“I have been trained to not require rest in my duties, your Majesty.” Mabel said flatly.

“Even when His Majesty commands you rest?”

“Last he did such his life was directly threatened by an assassin. An assassin sent by a man his Majesty now makes his ally.”

“We have come to an agreement, Mabel.” You smiled at her, “You will lose your focus if you never rest.”

“I have not lost my focus in fifteen years, your Majesty.” Mabel said, but then behind her eyes, a realization, as though she thought she spoke out of turn.

“Ah…fifteen years. When father and uncle destroyed one another in their contest over the seat I now sit in their place.” You said, reminiscing. “You say that what you did was losing focus?”

“Your Majesty. I humbly request that this subject not be spoken of.”

“Mabel, who is here to hear it?” you shrugged at your maidservant’s utterly invisible discomfort.

“My lapse in judgment is a mark of shame. I was wrong to presume my place. The actions I made in attempt to console you, were unacceptable.” Her mouth a thin line, her blonde bangs fallen behind her round glasses. She struggled to keep still as a statue.

“We were scarcely halfway through our second decades, Mabel. Everybody deserves to be excused for being young fools at least once.” She had made the first move, but you had readily made the second. What it all amounted to was laughable anyways, nothing that would elicit more than a rolling of eyes amongst courtly gossip. The most untoward thing that had even happened was you finding out that she stuffed her brassiere then.

“Your majesty.” Mabel said again, flat and expressionless as marble tile in tone, “I request that we speak of anything else, unless you have decided that you will mind after your health, and rest.”

>Request something of her, in her capacity as a servant rather than guardian. She was efficient at removing problems, and you needed something done. Such would improve your nerves better than tea…(What?)
>Accept that you should probably rest. You had certainly lost your focus plenty of times the past fifteen years.
>Remind Mabel that she is your maidservant, not your mother. You need to take your Guards out and resolve this quagmire in the south, now is no time for rest.
>Find out if Mabel still stuffs her brassiere, after fifteen years.
>Other?

>>4565601
>>Accept that you should probably rest. You had certainly lost your focus plenty of times the past fifteen years.

>>4565601
>Accept that you should probably rest. You had certainly lost your focus plenty of times the past fifteen years.
>Request something of her, in her capacity as a servant rather than guardian. She was efficient at removing problems, and you needed something done. Such would improve your nerves better than tea…(What?)

Say that you'll rest if these problems can be solved. Ask Mabel to help take the Zofia air field.

>>4565601
>>Accept that you should probably rest. You had certainly lost your focus plenty of times the past fifteen years.
>>Find out if Mabel still stuffs her brassiere, after fifteen years.

>>4565601
>>Find out if Mabel still stuffs her brassiere, after fifteen years.

>>4565672
+1

>>4565630
Rest is probably good.

>>4565637
Hey you can take over an airfield, right? Figure it out.

>>4565672
>>4565740
>>4565877
I certainly hope you know what you're doing.

Writing.

You were tired. Yet you were also driven. Driven perhaps to do unwise things, but you had so far regretted nothing, nothing you had done at least. Ideas brewed, as you looked up and down your faithful maidservant, thought about what you had wanted before you even dreamt that you would be where you were now.

“I should rest,” you accepted your maidservant’s suggestion, “I have certainly lost my focus plenty of times, these past fifteen years.” Though truly, other questions were on the mind. Not the least of such, whether Mabel still stuffed her brassiere, after all these years. What was more…you intended to find out. Directly. “You will ensure that I do not fall victim to assassination on my way to my quarters?”

“I shall carry your tea,” Mabel said, “So that you may have it at your leisure. I will pick it up when you are done, at your call.”

With a nod, you led Mabel to your room. It was as glossy and gilded as was necessary to impress the socialites, but little more. To be quite honest, you preferred the days when your bedroom was not meant to be something of spectacle.

Mabel quietly laid the tea tray upon a brilliantly worked silver and gold round table on one side of the room by a shelf of books that may as well have been for decoration, for how much they were selected by common opinion upon title and author rather than their true contents. While she did so, you quietly closed the door. Not quietly enough for her not to notice, naturally. Her ears were sharp, well trained, and as you walked up to her she cleared her throat lightly.

“I apologize, your Majesty, but I should not linger when you must rest,” she bowed deeply.

Much as you would have liked to command Mabel to do what seemed impossible, and much as you had faith in her to do her utmost to carry out her will…you found yourself thinking more, about how you had asked her to do so much. She could say her motivation was duty and obligation, yet you had not been able to give her what she wished. Her very simple desire, that you had both known for many years, now.

You put one hand around her back, and cupped one of her breasts in your other, squeezing lightly.

“Y-Y-Y-“ Mabel stammered and choked, struck utterly dumb as you ran your fingers around and into the softness beneath her dress.

“No need to put tissues into your brassiere anymore, I see,” you said as you pulled her dress down and away to grasp at her bare flesh.

“Y-you-you,” Mabel gasped for breath and went pale as you pushed her towards the bed, “Your Majesty, you cannot-”

“Mabel,” you tilted her down to lay her upon your bed, “We know each other’s names.”

“Your Majesty Wladysaw XI-“

“No. My true name, not my title.” Mabel was silent once more, though you had not ceased fondling her. She had the dense muscle of a fighter, but the smoothness of a gentle girl. She could kill a man a hundred different ways, but what you did to her now was paralyzing her. She refused to say your name aloud, in some insistence upon what she had beaten into her head for so long, to make her into a perfect tool. “I am tired of the part I have had to play, Mabel,” you said as you took your hand off her back and unbuttoned the back of her dress, “I have realized in my grand uprising, that acting upon my own desires has given me greater fulfillment in hours than any other scheme or ploy has in years. I do not want to marry into nobility, to fit as a cog into some mechanism of tradition with no regard for aught but it. How could I be, and do what I am doing now? I have already lived my obligation to a family that you protected me from. From here, my throne and my dreams are my own.”

“I…I cannot…” Mabel choked, “You…cannot…”

“If my declaration of revolution was not breaking loose from what I can and cannot do,” you touched Mabel’s lips to yours for the first time in an eternity, “Then let this be final valediction to such.”
For her voiced protests, your maidservant did not resist as you made her your woman. You were gentle, but genuine, acting with the intent of one who did not plan to have anyone else. You had crossed plenty of points of no return already, and you had no regret afterwards as you lay with an arm around your unclothed companion, her cheeks flushed, her skin clammy with sweat, as she still could not put to proper word how she had felt- even if her body had felt no such hesitation when you were as one.

“…It is not proper…” she murmured softly through deep, labored breaths, “It is not right…”

Your mind was clear- another shackle you had not even noticed had been dropped to the floor with a clattering clang. Yet, when Mabel finally fell asleep, you were still alert. You cared not a whit about whether you were found in bed with your maid, now, but there was still so, so much to do…

As the sun came up, you heard the eagles coming home to roost.

-----
Feburary 3rd, 1933

>Von Tracht Once More

The trip had been uneventful, as the Silver Lances moved into Mittelsosalia. Yet preparing for the action to come once more had taken longer than it had to come over here, and the familiar taste of dust in your breath was not something you had missed, especially with the added chill of winter proper. Most of the Silver Lances had come across their own sets of goggles, and Malachi became less of an unusual sight quite quickly. For the better- you’d tried to be a shield for him, but the man simply drew too much attention and suspicion with all his varied quirks. At least now, battle would distract from that.

You had seen rather few Ellowians thus far- those you had were in their grey uniforms, and were primarily couriers and officers. They contrasted rather starkly from the much more prevalent, at least in this area, Mittelsosalian soldiers, in their chocolate brown and black, and distinctive wide brimmed field caps. None were particularly chatty. Perhaps for the better that this batch of Mittelsosalians wasn’t of a group that recognized you. You hadn’t had the time to tell the story about how you were Kommandant to anybody besides your new crewmen, let alone the grittier details. You could only hope that Lieutenant Van Halm was only seeking nice rumors, as you saw him asking around about things out of earshot sometimes.

Only a few hours of sleep were snatched before you were called once again to the Battalion gathering point, the same tent but much more hastily erected- you would be moving once again soon, and Colonel Jagdmeister would be speaking to you further not from the head of a tent, but from the radio of his command tank.

“Gentlemen!” He announced to the assembled officers once more, “Welcome to Sosaldt! Last I was here, it was a far more unpleasant place, so be thankful for your current luxury.” It wasn’t phrased like a joke, but you tried not to smile at it regardless. “The situation has changed quite a bit in two nights. The High Protector of Ellowie has raised his flag in rebellion, and made battle against the Netillian Military Council.” He pointed with a stick to a familiar location in the northern half of Ellowie, Perlowieza. “His forces, a mixture of his Gendarmes and resistance fighters and former insurgents, have taken a pair of major airfields. An offer to use these facilities, and to aid him in seizing more, has been offered to the Ellowian Republic Air Force. Given the state of the airfields set up here,”

Jagdmeister pointed to about where you were in Mittelsosalia, or rather, a bit north of it, “They have agreed to such. Thus is the primary change in operations. Initially, it was expected that we would drive north towards the Netillian Capital of Berkesseburg, here,” he pointed, “However, plans have changed. If Ellowian territory can be retaken in quick fashion, the possibility of a sustained war is here.” He bent his stick in his hands as he looked back over the assembled officers, “Not that this changes the terms of our contract, nor the ferocity and speed with which we are expected to operate. However, we will be expected to at least aid in operations to link up with this uprising.”

The Colonel waited for some staff to put up a new map, upon which he pointed anew. “Maps of the region are not easy to come by and have a tendency to be unreliable, but nevertheless, we have obtained enough rough maps to furnish every platoon leader with at least an approximation of this here- our area of operations. This road here,” he drew his stick up a line from south to north- it was joined by several other lines on the way, and a few others spread out up north, “Is the Northway Road. It is wide, paved, and was intended to be a line of trade and supply from Netilland down south in days past. Recently, it has been repaired and even expanded by the Military Council, in treaty with their new allies. It is a vein directly into the heart of Netilland and its road networks…and thus, it is very well protected by a series of fortifications both new and old, with the old refitted into being capable of well resisting attack by even modern means. Suffice it to say, it is an extremely important landmark.”

A new line traced by the stick, across and around marked points of fortification. “Reconnaissance has confirmed that along with the fortifications, the Sosaldtian enemy has placed their most well-armed and equipped troops here, and there are reports of Netillian presence, though unconfirmed, What is confirmed is that there will be armor, of Netillian type. Our task, as a division, is to smash through the weakest points in this line and block off the road from behind, cutting off the fortifications on the road itself, and entrapping the troop concentrations there too. The weakest points are not intimidating in construction, but the foe will not simply allow us to traipse on through. Hence why we are to smash through, and onward.” He tapped his stick for emphasis, “Another formation shall be coming from the east, in a pincer movement. Such is a contingent of armor from Mittelsosalia. As part of the division, our battalion’s role is to…”

>Create the breach to be exploited by another battalion, directly supporting foot elements.
>Exploit the breach when it is made, surging out behind as other formations clear out the breach area.
>Aid the eastern pincer- they’ll need all the help they can get.

>>4565985
>Exploit the breach when it is made, surging out behind as other formations clear out the breach area.

Speed and firepower, we aren't meant to be a Battle Line.

>>4565985
>Exploit the breach when it is made, surging out behind as other formations clear out the breach area.

>>4565985
>>Exploit the breach when it is made, surging out behind as other formations clear out the breach area.

>>4565985
>>4566025
Also tanq do you mind doing just putting some arrows from the map just for visualisation purposes?

>>4565985
>Aid the eastern pincer- they’ll need all the help they can get.

>>4565985
>Exploit the breach when it is made, surging out behind as other formations clear out the breach area.

>>4565985
>>Exploit the breach when it is made, surging out behind as other formations clear out the breach area.

>>4566007
>>4566008
>>4566025
>>4566093
>>4566158
Wanting to be the star of the show, I see.

>>4566092
Doing some socializing.

Writing.

>>4566029
You'll get one with next update.

“I’ve called in a favor with Goldfolger,” Jagdmeister announced, “We’ve an important task, in spite of our moniker. Once the breach is opened by artillery and grenadiers supported by the first battalion, our task is to rush through and exploit that breach as the others clean up. There’s a decent chance we may be isolated, should plans go awry, but then it will be our responsibility to ensure that any counterattacks in our direction are turned away as to secure the envelopment. This means it will be quite likely that we will be attacked by the armored forces in the area. We’ve no fancy projector images for this, so you shall have to listen well.”

“Whilst the enemy armor is expected to be half our battalion’s number at the most pessimistic estimates, do not make the folly of underestimating them. Brigand-mercenaries are known to have an unpredictable arsenal, and it has been reported that the advancement of Caelussian-influenced territories has brought their equipment forth from their expanding access to arms markets both black and not. The T-15 type has been known to us, but in addition to newer variants appearing, there seems to no longer be a noted shortage of its armor piercing shell. Any encountered should be treated as an extremely high threat. Their cannon can pierce the armor of any of your tanks within three hundred meters, and your weapons will be ineffective against their frontal armor unless you are very, very close. They may not be effective against their fronts at all, with newer variants.”

“Outside of fortified areas, very little in the way of anti-tank guns are expected, but expect mines. A detachment of Pioneers will be accompanying us alongside an attachment of Grenadiers, however, we will have little time to clear paths. Company commanders, you are encouraged to try and find paths on your own initiative, rather than waiting for the Pioneers to clear a path. We simply do not have the time to delay upon a breach, not unless we wish to allow the enemy to slip away. A poor use of the opportunity we have. Expect no direct air support save in an emergency- the best we can expect is that air superiority will be kept for ourselves. Our self-propelled guns have attached a battery to our group that will accompany us as we go through and the last of our accompaniment will be the armored reconnaissance company. The Anti Air battery remains in the rear. Make sure you haven’t forgotten your anti-air drills, just in case.”

…Er. Hm. You absolutely didn’t remember those, but you presumed you couldn’t do much to harm an airplane anyways, even if you did recall how to do the drill.

File: initialbreachplan.png (367 KB, 1400x1260)

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“Our objective to reach is the intersection of this rough path leading from this village, to the Northway Road, where there is a town called Zinnstreik. That point will ideally be the center of our lines facing north and south, and the point where our counterparts and another of our battalions will be meeting us to complete an encirclement. I hope I do not surprise any by saying that I hope to arrive there first. The battalion will be advancing in a column two companies abreast- should the vanguard encounter a threat that stalls it, the rear companies will adjust their movement to go around. This is in reference to any obstacle- a herd of goats, a minefield, or a fortress somehow unseen. If you or any of your men wish to sit upon their hands and dig trenches, then they are free to take themselves back home where perhaps they will find more comfort with the infantry. Am I clear, commanders?”

Level compliance from up front of him.

“Then we move out in twenty minutes. As a final reminder unrelated to this operation, but apparently needed, do not allow yourselves or your men to consort with the local females. Statistical speculations put one in five of them as having a venereal disease. If any are rendered combat incapable by cock-itch, I will mandate that the battalion medics are to perform combat amputations rather than send any back to the medical company, let alone to the Archduchy to convalesce. If that is not clear as crystal, then may the Judge Above help you. Dismissed.”

Not that you were concerned with breaking such a rule, but while the self-advertised reputation you’d heard of brothels here did not seem to warrant a one in five statistic, you had no doubt whatsoever that Jagdmeister would carry out his thread on those who disobeyed. Hopefully, you could keep your more promiscuous crewmen in check.

-----

With the maps not in hand, you didn’t know exactly where you’d be going- but, Captain Vehrlors did show you on the way back. The terrain was rather flat, though there were plenty of dips and shallows, some remnant of marshes or something where the ground tipped into the earth, and when in the rainier seasons, enough water might well up to form a proper pond, though more likely they’d form sticky mud-holes from the loose swirling dust. Thankfully, a boon of the cold thus far was that if it did deign to precipitate, there would not be great mud holes forming so quickly.

“Von Tracht,” Vehrlors said to you, “I know you can take care of yourself, but keep joined at the hip to Van Halm. If he goes down, you stick to me, and if Van Halm and I go down, Big Rotehof is in charge.”

“And then me, right?” Stevan, also known as Little Von Rotehof, presupposed.

“…No.” Vehrlors shook his head in a move that surprised you, “If it’s just you two then Von Tracht is in command.”

“Bullshit,” Stevan muttered as he kicked dust in protest, but the spite wasn’t towards you at least.

“So long as we’re on march we’ll be in echelon formation,” Vehrlors continued to explain for your benefit, “As soon as we expect to run into a fight, or end up in the middle of one, we’ll switch to alternating bounds, one half of us go up, then covers as the other half advances.” You nodded. “The way things look, we’ll have armored recon in the very front of us anyways, so we shouldn’t have to worry so much about eating the first hit. Go ahead and wrangle up your crew. I have to make sure my driver didn’t bury himself in green muff the moment I left his ass unattended…”

…Indeed. Thankfully, when you returned, your Gunner and Radio Operator were still around, dozing off, as was the one you knew to have an exclusive interest in what was mentioned, but he brooded by the tank, attended to by Sieg, who had been constantly sneezing at the new introduction of dust.

That did bring up a question, though, to ask the dog’s owner. “Schafer,” you said to your gunner, who was dozing on the other side of the tank, “Where are we putting Sieg? Do you bring him into battle?”

“Hm, don’ know,” Schafer said with a stretch, “Pitches a fit if we leave him behind. Might be safe in the tank, but pro’ly best t’ keep ‘im leashed with rear line. I’d prefer the last, but he’d prefer comin’ with. Conflicted, ‘n all. If ‘s wasn’ tied down he’d run alongside.”

>Keep the dog back. What room was there for him anyways, and keeping him outside felt irresponsible.
>Take the dog along. Who could say, maybe he’d prove useful.
>Other?
Last map is vague on distance, of course, but you're not on the level where you need to mind the specifics anyways, not anymore.

>>4566912
>Keep the dog back. What room was there for him anyways, and keeping him outside felt irresponsible.
Who says he'd even like being inside the spooky tank.

>>4566912
>>Keep the dog back. What room was there for him anyways, and keeping him outside felt irresponsible.

>>4566912
>Keep the dog back. What room was there for him anyways, and keeping him outside felt irresponsible

>>4566912
>>Keep the dog back. What room was there for him anyways, and keeping him outside felt irresponsible.

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23 KB JPG

>>4566912
>Take the dog along. Who could say, maybe he’d prove useful.

>>4566931
>>4566944
>>4566952
>>4566959
No dog.

>>4567138
Dog.

Running a game right now, but I'll be writing as soon as I'm done.

Game is done. Writing now.

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Of all the tanks for Sieg to get inside, during a battle, you thought your tank might be the most unnerving, potentially. He hadn’t minded it on the way here, but perhaps it was only a matter of time before he noticed something off. You had a feeling that animals would be more sensitive to such energies as the thing inside the m/32B, just based off of how they could sense things like the weather, but who could say? Best to be careful. Not as though there was a lot of room for the shepherd dog inside anyways.

How was Maddalyn around animals, anyways? You didn’t recall her having pets or anything of the like. The only animal you did recall her being around was the Devourer, and that was an exceptional circumstance to say the least.

“Alright then. If you would take him to whomever you trust in the rear lines, then…” You were careful with Schafer. You had wondered if he had special spite for nobles, but hadn’t asked after it. You could risk provoking him some other time. If you kept your interactions short, he was only ever gruff at best.

“Mm.” Schafer grunted and got up with a sigh, before whistling. “Phweet. Sieg, c’mere.”

The dog came bounding over with no hesitation, and your gunner led the beast off south, as you roused the rest of the crew.

“We’re going in fifteen,” you said, “Let’s get that engine warmed up!” For your part, you got into the tank, beckoning Hausen after you, and retrieved your headset from its rack in the turret. The m/32 had gotten a good shakedown ride the other day, but it was time for it to experience battle once again. The radio was already set to proper frequency- though you gave it a test nevertheless. “Four-Five, checking in.”

“Four-One Actual, loud and clear, Four-Five,” Vehrlors responded promptly, “All other callsigns!”

Four-Four, Four Two, and Four Three responded- Van Halm, Elder Von Rotehof and Younger Von Rotehof. This more stringent use of operational names was necessary to avoid drawing particular attention to life outside of the unit, or in case of notable nobles potentially being targeted. In other places, it was an ideal not strictly adhered to, but here, it was necessary most if not all of the time. You would have to get well used to your numerical designation.

“I’ll be point on the echelon,” Vehrlors continued, “Four-Five, you and I have the bigger guns of the platoon. If something big comes up, I want your gunner’s trigger finger itchy and your loader’s hands hot. Got it?”

“Acknowledged, sir,” you felt some heart, in that somebody that wasn’t you was taking charge. The Fear did not deign to prod you often, but now…you could feel it waking up. No, so long as you could have confidence in your platoon, you couldn’t screw things up for everybody, not here, not now.

It was true that you were the heaviest firepower in your platoon- Vehrlors’s tank was a newer sort of m/32 that carried the same 5-centimeter gun your X-series tanks had in Ellowie, but the other members of the platoon were armed with 3.7-centimeter guns. The m/32B was armed with a 4.7cm gun, narrower in bore than the five, but a fair bit higher in velocity and somewhat more powerful for it, and it paid for it with how much room the gun’s larger rear took up. For all intents and purposes, it was an infantry anti-tank gun jammed into the turret of the m/32.

Right on schedule, the entire battalion moved out in a storm of frosted dust. Hell, it was like you’d never left, you thought as you leaned back on the Cupola, squinting through the red cloud just in case the seventy five meter spacing between platoons suddenly became ten without warning.

Your battalion stopped before the others, and the dust settled as distant sounds of battle a few kilometers away were joined by the advance elements of the division. Your contingent of the breakthrough force, however, sat still and idle. There was no doubt that you’d be moving again- what passed for modern fortifications here couldn’t compare to what was already on the border between Strossvald and Netilland, or Netilland and Baou. It was a matter of when rather than if. Until then, you weren’t to do anything but wait.

It wasn’t a relaxing wait. Your nerves were afire the whole time, as the crashing of artillery guns nearby to support the breakthrough attack shook the earth and air. If your own artillery was getting you nervous, you really hoped that you wouldn’t be shelled by guns any time soon. A vain hope. You buried your nose in Maddalyn’s scarf, and took her picture out to stare at it, to distract yourself from this, just for a moment…Judge Above, yes, it was her, but shouldn’t you have tried to get a picture of her where she was smiling? She looked so stern…

“Hey.” Your gunner spoke up, “What’s the deal, you cherry?”

“Huh?” you blinked down and across to him, “Cherry?”

“Whaet I esked yae abaet, boss,” Jorgen snickered. Was he mad, to be laughing in this setting? “Gaeve yaer raed medget a sausegge enner arse?”

“No, that’s not what I’m talkin’ about,” Schafer said harshly, “Battle-cherry.”

“Oh. No.” You sagged in your seat, “Why do you ask?”

“You’re actin’ like this is the first time you’ve ever been in somethin’ like this before,” Schafer said bluntly.

>React irritably. Of course it wasn’t your first time in battle. Wasn’t a man allowed to be a little scared for his life?
>Admit that you might be more fearful than you once were. You can’t really say how or why, you’re just…in recovery.
>It’s the artillery. Put it like that. This many big guns going off this close wasn’t familiar to you. Maybe that wasn’t it entirely, but it was a good enough excuse.
>Other?

>>4568696
>Admit that you might be more fearful than you once were. You can’t really say how or why, you’re just…in recovery.

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>>4568694
Pretend that I didn't switch Four-Four and Four Five, lol

>>4568696
>>Admit that you might be more fearful than you once were. You can’t really say how or why, you’re just…in recovery.

>>4568696
NO TANK ART? Strossvald really are the baddies.

>It’s the artillery. Put it like that. This many big guns going off this close wasn’t familiar to you. Maybe that wasn’t it entirely, but it was a good enough excuse.
Well we did get almost killed by friendly artillery the last time we were in Sosaldt. Tends to bring back bad memories.

"Medium+", uh huh it should say :Armor - GODLIKE

>>4568696
>4th company

>numeral 5 on the tanks
what is the truth

>React irritably. Of course it wasn’t your first time in battle. Wasn’t a man allowed to be a little scared for his life?

>>4568868
>4th company
>numeral 5 on the tanks
>what is the truth
...I can only assume it's early onset dementia. I have it right in the OP, I can't even explain it.

>>4568696
>Admit that you might be more fearful than you once were. You can’t really say how or why, you’re just…in recovery.
The brainwashing seems to be an open secret so I don't see why we can't hint towards it.

>>4568696
>Admit that you might be more fearful than you once were. You can’t really say how or why, you’re just…in recovery.

>>4568696
>>Admit that you might be more fearful than you once were. You can’t really say how or why, you’re just…in recovery.