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A Langenachtfest without a date was said to be an ill omen for the year to come. Nobody but old wives believed that, really, but still, it meant that being single was severely out of fashion in December. In spite of that, for the whole month, you yourself had been single. Not as rare a problem as one might think, but not one expected of somebody like yourself. Reich women loved soldiers, they loved airmen, and they loved war heroes.

You were all three, and a looker to boot, as you were the one and only Reinhold Roth-Vogel, commander of the Grossreich Luftwaffe’s airmobile armor formation, the Luftpanzer Battalion. The only thing quite like it in the world, and you were only twenty-five years old. A very, very young man for your rank, to say the least, and quite honestly more than you could handle right now, but nothing made a man ready for a role than being made to experience it. Or that was what the Luftwaffe high command had brushed you off with.

Apparently, it was the Kaiser’s personal request.

Not long ago you’d have exploited all your charms and achievements to wrap every woman inclined around your finger, but after your unit’s blooding (and success, by your measure, though not command’s) in Helmaggia just over a year ago, a terrible curse had befallen you. The mindset of pickiness. No longer would just any girl do…and it wasn’t a matter of pride. Some friends called it maturity, but you weren’t so sure.

Ah well. It’d be easy to dodge some bad luck if all you needed was a girl at your side for a few days. Your last break had been on amiable terms. A mutual understanding that it was worth giving each other some space, a month ago. For once, it had you that initiated it. You’d needed the space after an incredibly eventful year, especially the recent news making things in your personal life…complicated.

The days leading up to Langenachtfest would be busy for you. Currently, you were…

>Out on errands. The Falkensteins needed things that you had plenty of spare ration cards for, especially milk formula for the kid…
>Putting the Luftpanzer III prototype through its paces. Langenachtfest was off, but not the days before, and your presence and feedback were insisted upon. As it should be.
>Visiting the Graveyard. Old friends rested there, and it was good to get the gloom out of the way early in the day.
You’ll be going through all three, potentially, so this is an order of events before the Long Night’s Fest. Encounter priority and all.

For all who need a reminder of what only happened a year ago in setting, but quite a few years back questing-wise, these are the past threads, to which this is...technically a sequel to? If only a one shot one.
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Luftpanzer
Or, for some mad reason, you decide to read a whole quest to play a Christmas Drawquest Special. There's no disclaimer for not needing to have read the rest of the quest this time- if you haven't at least read Luftpanzer, you won't know what's going on.

Even so, if there's particular reminders of events and things you need, or brief explanations, or just in-character knowledge questions in general, feel free to ask them and I will answer.

>>6155385
>>Out on errands. The Falkensteins needed things that you had plenty of spare ration cards for, especially milk formula for the kid…

>>6155385
>Out on errands. The Falkensteins needed things that you had plenty of spare ration cards for, especially milk formula for the kid…

>>6155385
>Out on errands. The Falkensteins needed things that you had plenty of spare ration cards for, especially milk formula for the kid…

>>6155385
>Putting the Luftpanzer III prototype through its paces. Langenachtfest was off, but not the days before, and your presence and feedback were insisted upon. As it should be.
It's been so long since we've had a tank that wasn't held together by rivets...

>>6155385
>Putting the Luftpanzer III prototype through its paces. Langenachtfest was off, but not the days before, and your presence and feedback were insisted upon. As it should be.

>>6155385
>Putting the Luftpanzer III prototype through its paces. Langenachtfest was off, but not the days before, and your presence and feedback were insisted upon. As it should be.

>>6155384
Do I need to have read the others to understand this one ?

>>6155385
>Putting the Luftpanzer III prototype through its paces. Langenachtfest was off, but not the days before, and your presence and feedback were insisted upon. As it should be.

Tonks

>>6155389
>>6155420
>>6155446
A quiet opening. Should an officer do his own shopping? Maybe not, but it's the best way to get what you want.

>>6155455
>>6155463
>>6155511
>>6155564
The newest in airmobile armor technology, made solely for you. Curiosity alone could compel.

Updating.

>>6155524
>Do I need to have read the others to understand this one?
I have no idea how you would understand it otherwise frankly. Even if I do as normal procedure and write in context and history briefs when relevant.

>>6155524
If you are interested in the quest, I would say the broad strokes for the important parts of the background is that Reinhold went to Halmeggia with some flying tanks to rescue the Royal Family there from revolutionaries from Vitelia. His best friend Dolcherr got kill by the Revs early on, then with the help of heterochromatic spy Winnifred Von Lowenkreuz, crossdressing tomboy war criminal Eidan Wolfe, and near the end flying ace childhood friend Linda Falkenstein they managed to get the last two remaining members of the Halmeggian royal family, a petulant prince and top heavy princess, to safety.
Winnifred Von Lowenkreuz is mother to Reinhold's child, but due to being under the Ada Wong archetype of spy left pretty much immediately after completion of the mission, leaving her baby on the doorstep of the Falkenstein's nine months later.

That's my best quick and dirty retelling of it, but it was a long time ago.

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Even though your paratroopers weren’t working right now, the elite troops given a generous holiday while some other poor saps were stuck with rapid response capability, that didn’t mean you weren’t busy. After all, if the commander of the only Luftpanzer unit wasn’t going to test his own equipment, that would mean the pencil-neck researchers would have to do it. Doctor Hallevasse was a smart engineer, but he had too many ideas and not enough mind for practicality. Too many gadgets that ballooned costs, too many friends with incomplete inventions. If you didn’t exercise your small power of veto to its fullest extent, the weight limit would probably be tested by something silly like a tactical anvil.

So four days before Langenachtfest, you were putting the latest iteration of the Luftpanzer III prototype through its paces. The degree of development between the third type and the second wasn’t as drastic as between the second and first- the same innovations of lighter materials like aluminum and specialist construction to cut down on kilos were the same, but the weight limitations on aircraft, and particularly the new heavy gliders, had increased. This allowed a few more toys, and capability for augmented protection- added on after a drop, ideally.

Certain things were also made modular for potential cutting of expenses. A Luftpanzer II was substantially more expensive than any of its terrestrial-bound cousins as is, and the Luftpanzer III could easily run even higher. The patience of the Parliament in regards to funding of capabilities like this was better off not tested too far.

The other things had to wait. Your commute to the testing ground wasn’t exactly ordinary- the bus might have been less cramped, as you were shut inside the Luftpanzer III, and that tank itself was locked down within the tight confines of a glider. All that told you and your crew where you were was the rocking back and forth of the glider being towed behind a heavy lift craft, the SiMa 102’s five engines droning ahead, and the link between your tank and the cockpit of the heavy glider, where your fortunes were trusted to a test pilot.

Said pilot was the best the Reich had to offer, however.

Linda Falkenstein. Daughter of near-legendary Imperial Ace Alphonse Falkenstein, known as the Gold Vengeance, and a combat ace herself as of the Expedition to the Republic of Mittelsosalia where she had earned the moniker of Lady in Red for her crimson-hued fighter plane. Presently a test pilot, the most skilled woman in the sky that you knew of, with the mechanical know-how to maintain and modify her own aircraft. She also had a great rack. One of the most prime catches a lad could make in the Empire, were it not for the fact that she’d been head over heels for only one man since she’d hit puberty.

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That man was you, and the most you’d indulged her non-platonically, ever, was a single kiss a year back. No matter what happened, how many years had passed, she hadn’t given up. Yet you’d always wriggled away with some excuse, and these days, you had long run out of excuses. She knew it, too. It wasn’t that she was younger. It wasn’t that she lacked for positive qualities, quite the opposite. She just didn’t realize that she could aim higher than you, easily. Couldn’t and wouldn’t be turned away. Linda was certain that she’d wear you down eventually. Maybe she was right about that.

This was work right now, though. “Hey, payload to pilot,” you said on the crew intercom, which the glider hooked into, “First time in one of these. What can my crew expect for the landing?”

“Better than what they’d get from a normal pilot,” Linda replied, her focus still sharp in her voice. “These things handle like the Reichsmarine should have them, so I’d brace for it when the time comes. This isn’t my first time flying this with a tank on it, but the other times the crew wasn’t inside.”

Theoretically it should have been perfectly safe, though the tanker helmets were donned nevertheless. Even if the Luftwaffe didn’t actually provide its mechanized assets with the resin-rimmed dork caps. “The ETA?” you asked.

“One minute ten seconds until separation.” A pause. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Who’d turn down flying with a Falkenstein?” You returned good-naturedly.

Your driver, Suszter, turned and spoke up to you, not on the wire. “Should have had her in here with us. I want to know how much Dheg-girrrrl stink she sweats.” …Linda might have only been one-quarter Dhegyar, but every Dhegyar today anyways acted full-blooded whether they were a deep-country squinty or could barely claim a drop whilst bearing a blonde head.

That was a comment you’d tolerate, even cajole alongside for, were it any other woman. Linda, though, a girl who had been friends since she was small, the daughter of your role model and idol, practically a second father, and thus her, something of a little sister, even if she didn’t see it that way…

>Tell Suszter to shut it. He could yap like that about any broad. Not Linda.
>Linda was a tough girl. Share that query over the intercom. It could be funny.
>Clout Suszter over the head. Dhegyar understood force better than words, and he was wearing a helmet anyways.
>Other?

>>6155800
>Linda was a tough girl. Share that query over the intercom. It could be funny.

Let her burn him back

>>6155800
>Clout Suszter over the head. Dhegyar understood force better than words, and he was wearing a helmet anyways.

Luftpanzer APC when, then the unit can go full VeeDeeVee

>>6155800
>Clout Suszter over the head. Dhegyar understood force better than words, and he was wearing a helmet anyways.

>>6155800
>Clout Suszter over the head. Dhegyar understood force better than words, and he was wearing a helmet anyways.

>>6155802
Give the lady a shot.

>>6155804
>>6155859
>>6155862
Swift discipline.

Updating.

>>6155804
>Luftpanzer APC when
Considering that the Reich's proper panzer units already utilize armored personnel carriers, albeit very simple, unambitious bulletproof boxes with little more than a single machine gun on them, it could be in the cards. However, they'd likely be adaptations of existing platforms rather than specialist creations, with costs and all for an already experimental, if decently proven, unit...

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The Luftpanzer III was little more spacious than the old Luftpanzer II, but the compact fitting of the crew did mean that you could reply to Suszter’s comment by but clambering down to the turret floor behind him.

*WHOCK* You clouted him over the head with a half-held blow, and he snapped around in surprise.

“Agh! What the hell?”

“Shut it,” you replied curtly. “Not with this girl.”

Suszter did zip it, crossing his arms and sulking in his seat. Not your usual driver, but Lawrence wasn’t mad enough to volunteer for test runs. That, and one developed a fondness for having a substitute that let you have a memorable parting with a lady while he was in the tank at the same time. Just in case you needed a repeat, impossible as that was. The lewd inclination wouldn’t be tolerated with Linda.

“What’s going on back there?” Linda asked when you put the headset back on, “Don’t jump around, this thing’s lighter than you think.”

“Just had to fix something.”

Linda had no further inquiry. “Separation now, payload. Hold on to something.”

“Roger that.” To your men. “You heard the lady. Tighten those straps.”

A lurch as the glider was freed from its tow, and began to drift freely. It took a strong stomach to not feel ill at ease, shut inside the panzer while falling from the sky. Any other time, you could at least look out a window. Here, all you had was the dim glow of the Luftpanzer’s interior lamps.

Silence as you all waited. Nobody wanted to admit nervousness, until Linda’s voice crackled on again to announce that the ground was coming up.

“Brace,” she said, “It’ll be as soft as I can make it, but I don’t know how it’ll feel back there.” When the glider slid down, honestly, you could barely tell. Linda’s talent for aircraft maneuvering was hardly understated, to be able to touch the ground so subtly with this boat. “Landing check. All alive?”

Linda had said before that a person developed a sense for comedy when in the work of prototype testing, but any jokes from her in tests were always dry. “Affirm. Excellent landing, compliments from the crew. Free the locks. Let’s see if this rapid deployment system is as automatic as the eggheads say it is.”

*CL-CL-CLUNK* “Lock release confirmed. Check?”

“All of them did it this time. Better not count on that. Freeing cable now. Open the doors.” No more communications with the pilot- the door fell open with a clatter, a system that you thought didn’t need to be automatic, but the point was to let the tank roll out without you having to leave.

“Driver, how do the systems feel? Should be just fine, but never hurts to check.”

“Nothing overrrrly unmanageable.” Suszter said.

“That preexisting?” You questioned.

“Morrrre than likely.” Dhegyar did love to accentuate that syllable.

“Good. All other systems at the ready. Driver, take us to the range. They’ve got it set up at our…” You turned out of the cupola and looked around, “010 Degrees, four o’clock. Full right.”

…

A series of different target hulks had been set up, as well as iron-plate soldier silhouettes. They were suitable for testing most any weapon, but what this Luftpanzer III prototype was currently equipped with had been your own personal selection of primary weapon, in addition to secondary machine gun armament. Said primary weapon, about to be tested, was the…

>An automatic cannon, a 3-centimeter lightweight type derived from a new sort of ground-attack aircraft armament. It wouldn’t do much to the front of medium armored vehicles, but it could certainly tear up anything vulnerable in a hurry.
>The 7.7-centimeter short barreled low-velocity cannon. Not overly imposing on paper, but its variety of shot was second to none, especially the new Hollow Charge Anti-Tank shells. Reliable, and flexible.
>A 4.5-centimeter tank cannon, derived from a foreign, overseas type. Rather ordinary, but more powerful than the old 3.7-centimeter that was on the Fuchs variant of the Luftpanzer II, while not being particularly heavy.
>Fresh from weapons research and development, a type of “recoilless” 10-centimeter gun that was the basis of new Fallschirmjager support weaponry. It would give the power of the old Ein’s mortar-cannon, while being substantially lighter…though it was very new on top of requiring a special, partially externalized way of mounting it due to its system of venting pressure out the back.
>Other? (Extremely limited, don’t count on getting anything more advanced than what’s listed)

>>6156094
>>Fresh from weapons research and development, a type of “recoilless” 10-centimeter gun that was the basis of new Fallschirmjager support weaponry. It would give the power of the old Ein’s mortar-cannon, while being substantially lighter…though it was very new on top of requiring a special, partially externalized way of mounting it due to its system of venting pressure out the back.

>>6156094
>Fresh from weapons research and development, a type of “recoilless” 10-centimeter gun that was the basis of new Fallschirmjager support weaponry. It would give the power of the old Ein’s mortar-cannon, while being substantially lighter…though it was very new on top of requiring a special, partially externalized way of mounting it due to its system of venting pressure out the back.
Test Tank. Test Weapons.
Reinhold Roth-Vogel is the cutting edge!

>>6156094
>A 4.5-centimeter tank cannon, derived from a foreign, overseas type. Rather ordinary, but more powerful than the old 3.7-centimeter that was on the Fuchs variant of the Luftpanzer II, while not being particularly heavy.
A light, airdropped tank meant to operate on it's lonesome without guaranteed a logistical tail should have an appropriately scaled gun that can carry a decent store of ammo and won't eat through all of it in a firefight or two.
Strossvald's 4.7s were still cutting it against the bulk of contemporary armour last year, so my money's going on the 4.5.

>>6156094
>Fresh from weapons research and development, a type of “recoilless” 10-centimeter gun that was the basis of new Fallschirmjager support weaponry. It would give the power of the old Ein’s mortar-cannon, while being substantially lighter…though it was very new on top of requiring a special, partially externalized way of mounting it due to its system of venting pressure out the back.

The 45 is decent (it's a T-16 gun after all) but lacking in shell selection for my taste, my mental list would probably be 100mm/77mm>45mm>30mm. A RR seems like a good fit for an airmobile platform even if the range will suffer a bit, maybe it can even cannibalise ammo from the infantry as well.

Also gotta love Reich paratroopers running around with recoilless rifles when most people are still using oversized MG rounds for AT work, the perks of being top dog on the continent.

>>6156094
>>A 4.5-centimeter tank cannon, derived from a foreign, overseas type. Rather ordinary, but more powerful than the old 3.7-centimeter that was on the Fuchs variant of the Luftpanzer II, while not being particularly heavy.
I think we have enough experimental technology to worry about already without the gun itself being suspect. Besides, how can a gun be "recoilless"? You can't beat physics. Clearly a dead end design.

>>6156094
>The 7.7-centimeter short barreled low-velocity cannon. Not overly imposing on paper, but its variety of shot was second to none, especially the new Hollow Charge Anti-Tank shells. Reliable, and flexible.

>>6156094
>>An automatic cannon, a 3-centimeter lightweight type derived from a new sort of ground-attack aircraft armament. It wouldn’t do much to the front of medium armored vehicles, but it could certainly tear up anything vulnerable in a hurry.

>>6156094
>Fresh from weapons research and development, a type of “recoilless” 10-centimeter gun that was the basis of new Fallschirmjager support weaponry. It would give the power of the old Ein’s mortar-cannon, while being substantially lighter…though it was very new on top of requiring a special, partially externalized way of mounting it due to its system of venting pressure out the back.
WoT instilled me with an undue love of these stupid things. 10.5cm howitzers chew through soft targets and should severely damage most tanks of this period.

>>6156099
>>6156102
>>6156171
>>6156326
The latest- and hopefully greatest- in weapons technology.

>>6156129
>>6156196
Something tried and true- there's enough risks falling out of the sky.

>>6156206
Smaller, but more versatile.

>>6156320
Spits like nothing else.

Updating.

>>6156380
HCAT is just HEAT right?

>>6156396
A different name for it, but yes. It's just more specific on what the high explosive is actually doing in the process.

>>6156380
Thanks for posting on Xitter tanq, i missed the thread.

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Your own choice of mount when Luftpanzers had first taken the field had equipped with relatively conventional armament consisting of a coaxial machine gun and a 3.7-centimeter tank cannon, suitable for modest support application and perforation of enemy armor. Yet this was a test platform, and what choice for the daring was appropriate besides the latest invention to come out of weapons research and development? At least, one that had practicality, and apparently, a bright future.

The 10-centimer “recoilless rifle” was thus mounted to the tank, a curious weapon that utilized venting a great deal of force out of its back end while also propelling its shell forwards, in order to create a high-caliber weapon that could be made particularly lightweight, due to a solid receiver block and recoil mechanism being made far less necessary. The man in charge of its development, one Doctor Bazilhof, insisted that it was the future of warfare. You’d have to see about that, because the weapon, while intriguing, certainly wasn’t perfect.

Primarily, the problem lay not with the weapon itself, but how it was mounted on your vehicle. The recoilless rifle had to vent out of the back, in a very dangerous and forceful fashion, so the gun had to run through the length of the turret. Impossible to do without compromising protection in some way, but the Luftpanzer was ever only lightly armored. The pivot point for the gun was at the rear of the turret while the turret mantlet had an open spot so that the elevation degree was respectable. The setup was awkward, and there was definitely a better solution somewhere for the problem of vertical traversal, but for now, this was the state of the prototype. With the gun being so large and needing its own space, maybe it was such a diva that it needed its own turret within your turret…

If it was like anything from R&D it would be a couple more iterations at least before it hit the field. Time to do your part.

“Load Hollow Charge,” you told Zolldom, another Dhegyar crewman, “Let’s make a lovely triangle of testing here and see if that works, or if the engineers made it too twitchy again so it bursts too soon.” A proper standoff necessary for the shaped-charge’s titular mode of armor piercing to work to its best extent.

The breach opened, and the ring of a shell climbed up and alongside before a closing and a latch shut, along with the rear hatch being opened. The engineers had made sure that in order to load the cannon, said opening had to be wide. A safety measure against blasting yourselves with the venting propellant and recoil mass.

“Targeting the two-hundred-meter hulk. You have it on your periscope?”

“Obserrrrved.”

“Firing.” *BOOOMM* Recoilless was a misnomer, though the tank had no trouble absorbing the recoil. This gun was loud as hell, though. Considering it was two guns counterfiring, it was unsurprising.

You got out the top cupola to observe the hit more clearly with binoculars. “Direct hit. As expected, eh?”

Zolldom snorted. “Trrrry the five hundrrred meterrrr next time, hotshot. Like brrragging to a Dheg woman that you can piss down yourrr pantleg.”

Speaking of, you turned your head to the glider. Linda was looking back, having climbed atop the glider to spectate- your gazes met. She tilted her head, expectantly, waved. Not like she had more to check, the heavy glider was already in its production phase.

>Alright. Take your loader on. Show off for the girl and make the five-hundred-meter shot. No, the thousand-meter.
>Invite Linda over to try this out. How often did people get this sort of chance to stand in your shoes?
>Who did you have to impress? Get the gunnery tests out of the way, you had to find a way to break this thing so the engineers wouldn’t assume they were finished too early.
>Other?

>>6156668
>Invite Linda over to try this out. How often did people get this sort of chance to stand in your shoes?

>>6156668
>Alright. Take your loader on. Show off for the girl and make the five-hundred-meter shot. No, the thousand-meter.

>>6156668
>Who did you have to impress? Get the gunnery tests out of the way, you had to find a way to break this thing so the engineers wouldn’t assume they were finished too early.

>>6156668
>Invite Linda over to try this out. How often did people get this sort of chance to stand in your shoes?

>>6156668
>Who did you have to impress? Get the gunnery tests out of the way, you had to find a way to break this thing so the engineers wouldn’t assume they were finished too early.
Reject woman, retvrn to tank.

>>6156668
>Invite Linda over to try this out. How often did people get this sort of chance to stand in your shoes?

>>6156668
>>Alright. Take your loader on. Show off for the girl and make the five-hundred-meter shot. No, the thousand-meter.

>>6156668
>Alright. Take your loader on. Show off for the girl and make the five-hundred-meter shot. No, the thousand-meter.

Can't wait for this noble agent of the Grossreich to battle the Punished Panzer Ace Von Tracht as a sub-boss before the Witch of the Blumlands in order to save the world.

>>6156792
>"Hans, are we the baddies?"

>>6156668
>Invite Linda over to try this out. How often did people get this sort of chance to stand in your shoes?

>>6156668
>>Who did you have to impress? Get the gunnery tests out of the way, you had to find a way to break this thing so the engineers wouldn’t assume they were finished too early.

>>6156668
>Alright. Take your loader on. Show off for the girl and make the five-hundred-meter shot. No, the thousand-meter.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6156670
>6156710
>6156721
>6156824
Let Linda have a try. She's shot at distance plenty before, albeit in a different craft.

>6156672
>6156740
>6156760
>6156827
You hadn't won a gamble in a while. Time to change that.

>>6156706
>6156714
>6156827
Those nerds in R&D deserve to be tortured. Nobody will fuck them if you don't.

More divisive than I thought it'd be. I'll flip a coin, 1 is first, 2 is second.

Updating after.

>>6156792
It's funny to think of who the "hero" or "villain" might be of anything in this, I feel like now I've got all sorts of perspectives into this part of the setting. You could always say that nobody's the good or bad guy here, but when everything comes down, there's no choice but to pick a side, isn't there?

>>6157101
Are the Luftpanzer IIIs continuing with the mixed armament arrangement, or is the brass seeking to settle on a standard gun for the whole fleet?

>>6157252
>Are the Luftpanzer IIIs continuing with the mixed armament arrangement, or is the brass seeking to settle on a standard gun for the whole fleet?
There's still going to be a mix of heavy infantry support and more flexible anti-tank, but there won't be further specialization than two weapons. The intent by the project, after all, is to have a multipurpose platform rather than a universal tank.

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What the hell, it wasn’t like this weapon was particularly complicated. “Oi! Linda!” You shouted over to Linda and waved back, beckoning. “Get yer butt over here!”

Your eyes were somewhat weak and you didn’t know what sort of face she might be making, but she got down from her seat and jogged over, looking puzzled but curious when she came over. “What?” She asked, “I can see just fine from over there. Don’t know if covering my ears’ll be enough this close.”

“I’ve flown in the same plane as you before, Linda,” you said, “Don’t you want to see how things feel in my seat?” You opened the side turret hatch and climbed out, offering your hand to her. “Come up and give this a try. It’s sure as hell not as complicated as flying a fighter plane.” Not even as much as flying a glider, even if being a commander in this sort of tank got busy when you had to command and shoot at the same time.

Linda took your hand without even thinking, and you hauled the stocky girl up alongside on the track guards, near the stow boxes atop them. Not much space to stand on the side besides there, but the lids of those things still needed reinforcement.

"It's a tight fit..." Linda observed, putting her leg in somewhat funny as she tried to puzzle out beforehand how her miniskirt might sway.

“In there,” you pointed, “The big gun’s blocking him, but my loader’s on the other side. Put this on-“ you handed her the headset with the long cable, “Plug it in to the socket over there, and that’s our intercom. The seats right down there.”

“Hm,” Linda took your place, and did as you said, before looking down the gunsight. If you hadn’t given your driver a whack, that miniskirt she was wearing gave plenty of potential for an eyeful from his position. “What are the triangles near the range indicator?”

“Indicators for a two-meter height target at one hundred meters and five hundred,” you explained, “The number ladders are for high explosive and the anti-tank hollow charge shells, their mass is different so they fly different. You turn the dial on the right to line up the range with the center crosshair, and the priming is done electrically, so you press the trigger on this gadget to your right,” you guided her hand, “To fire. Elevation is this crank on the gun, and lateral traverse are this crank for small manual adjustment, and the stick with the trigger controls power traverse for swinging the turret fast.”

“Interesting,” Linda said, testing the manual interfaces, “With my fighter it only had an image sight, but the guns were still electric.” She brushed a hand against the big recoilless rifle tube. “This thing’s huge, huh?”

“It’s a new variant of a type of support gun the Fallschirmjager drop with,” you said, “This is the first time putting it on a vehicle.”

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“And the high explosive and hollow charge,” Linda probed further as she squinted, focused, into the gunsight again, “They’re both explosive?”

“The hollow charge has a metal sheet inside it, and a trigger that extends past into the nose. Zolldom, show her. See? That goes to an explosive charge inside, which blows up in a way that forces the metal sheet into a very-fast moving explosively formed projectile that has enough power behind it to pierce armor. All the explosive force is concentrated forward, instead of all around like a normal explosive charge.”

Linda nodded again. She might have put herself forward as a tomboy, but she was actually very technically minded, gifted in multiple ways. For some reason, she was hesitant to actually be that way a lot of the time- but she also never wore plunging necklines and bare-thighed skirts and stockings like she did now, save for when you were present.

“Tell me when you’re about to fire so I don’t go deaf,” you said, “Go for the hundred meter, start off easy. Not like you’ve shot this before.”
Linda scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaning back and giving you a pout. “Rein, I’ve shot guns plenty. One hundred meters is practically touching up in the air. I’m dialing in the five hundred.”

You raised an intrigued eyebrow. “Let’s see it then, freckles.”

“Ten seconds.” You stayed silent, hands over your ears, and lodged yourself half-in the tank. You’d be safe beside the turret, but it’d be really damn loud out here. “Firing!” Linda cried.

BOOOOMMMH!!

“Judge above,” you swore, tucking your head down as the blast wave washed over, a gust of wind blowing up powder snow all around. You hurriedly watched with your binoculars- expecting an explosion, but you saw the shape of the shell bounce off the top edge of the target hulk’s turret. As expected of the HCAT shell. A square hit was necessary for proper ignition, let alone penetration.

“Tch,” Linda grimaced with irritation, her eyes still set in the gun scope, “Barely missed it. I’ll nail it with the second shot.”

No doubt. Yet she glanced out of the scope at you, expecting comment.

>“Sorry, I wasn’t looking. I was staring down your shirt the whole time. Try again, I’ll watch this time.”
>Still an impressive shot, considering the weapon and her own experience. Lavish proper praise.
>Alright, she had her chance. Now she can budge over. You’ll show everybody how it’s done.
>Other?

>>6157567
>Alright, she had her chance. Now she can budge over. You’ll show everybody how it’s done.

>>6157567
>>“Sorry, I wasn’t looking. I was staring down your shirt the whole time. Here let me give you a hand.”

>>6157567
>Alright, she had her chance. Now she can budge over. You’ll show everybody how it’s done.

>>6157567
>Alright, she had her chance. Now she can budge over. You’ll show everybody how it’s done.

>>6157567
>Still an impressive shot, considering the weapon and her own experience. Lavish proper praise.

>>6157567
>Alright, she had her chance. Now she can budge over. You’ll show everybody how it’s done.

>>6157580
>>6157588
>>6157591
>>6157617
Alright, playtime's over, let the war hero take the reigns.

>>6157585
boobs lmao

>>6157599
Pretty good for somebody who doesn't shoot with their feet on the ground.

Updating.

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“Second shot?” You repeated, “Nah, it’s my turn now. You had your chance, now budge over. I’ve got my pride to consider.”

Linda gave you puppy-dog eyes. “That’s no fair, Rein. Your loader already had the second shot ready for me. You’re stealing food off my plate again, during rationing too.”

You waved a finger. “You’ve got reserves to spare, from the looks of your neckline. Besides, we’re all taking off the Kaiser’s plate this holiday.”

Rationing had been mandated for the past few months. The Empire couldn’t help but be nervous, yet for the latter half of December, there had been a special effort to triple everybody’s rations. Praise the Kaiser. Langenachfest would not be an Eintopfsonntag. The cause had been, for the second year in a row, a severe grain blight. Nobody seemed to know exactly how widespread or what scale it was…just that, for some time, the difference had been made up with foreign trade to those in the world without unjustified impotent spite for the Grossreich.

Linda puffed up her cheeks at you. “That’s just ‘cause I’m trying to feed the baby, y’know.” Your baby. You had to wonder if she knew...even if the kid’s name made it obvious to you.

“Quit your stalling,” you beckoned sharply twice with a hand, “Don’t you want to watch me perform?”

Linda paused, and climbed out of the turret, a sharp Dhegyar whistle chasing her bottom out. She glanced back sharply, but voice no condemnation. That was the risk she took in her fashion. “Fine. Go on, show me a trick shot. I’ll watch. I’ve got high expectations, you know.”

“As you should, scruffy,” you poked Linda’s nose, “I’ll signal out the turret when I’m about to shoot.”

“Can’t I just watch from here?” Linda pointed to the stowage you’d perched on before. “This seems just fine.”

“Trust me,” you shook your head, “It ain’t a pleasant observation post when that thing goes off. I’d watch from that glider again, or anywhere far that’s not behind the turret.” The distance the backblast was dangerous, even deadly, was quite distant. A complaint you already had considering the necessity of Luftpanzers to work in close conjunction with infantry. “Here,” you passed your binoculars to Linda, “Watch the far one get it.”

Once you’d got back in and put your headset back on, you had the Luftpanzer moved. It wouldn’t be any fair if you just corrected off Linda’s last shot, after all, so you pivoted over and moved back- the angle on the target hulk was even less ideal now, but easy shots weren’t so simple to set up on the field.

>Roll 3 sets of 1d100, Best of 3, DC roll under 25

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>6157781
>Rationing had been mandated for the past few months. The Empire couldn’t help but be nervous, yet for the latter half of December, there had been a special effort to triple everybody’s rations. Praise the Kaiser. Langenachfest would not be an Eintopfsonntag. The cause had been, for the second year in a row, a severe grain blight. Nobody seemed to know exactly how widespread or what scale it was…just that, for some time, the difference had been made up with foreign trade to those in the world without unjustified impotent spite for the Grossreich.

Those Caelussian food shipments are being blocked by the Nauk navies now correct, or is it just imports to Twaryi/occupied Vynmark?

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>6157781
Can you dig it Rheinhold?

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>6157781
rollan'

>>6157786
>>6157790
>>6157794
This set of rolls is incomprehensible.
The 99 and 100 for this of all things.

>>6157786
>Those Caelussian food shipments are being blocked by the Nauk navies now correct, or is it just imports to Twaryi/occupied Vynmark?
The former, technically, because any Caelussian Federation flagged ships are being barred from passage, including and especially the merchants. The Imperial Navy hasn't become involved, since the Reich haven't been the ones sending out ships back and forth...
...But it's not a happy subject for them either, especially since, if they were, their ships would be getting interfered with too.

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>6157786
>>6157790
>>6157794
>>>roll under
Thanks for the timer hiromoot, I could've pulled off the hat trick.

>>6157786
>>6157794
>>6157801
truly that was a set of rolls

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With the signal waved out, you made your adjustments, and pushed the button for the electric trigger for the recoilless rifle. As before, the shot went out, not so forcefully as one would expect from the caliber but certainly as loud. The shell sailed out, and with a burst of flame and smoke, the turret of the target hulk was knocked away. It was hollow pot metal, of course, but you could still be quite proud of that shot.

“Yeah, eat that. Turret perforation, unseating, potential weapon damage, crew definitely disrupted. What do you think, Zolldom, Suszter? I think we’d have a kill ring for that, off the range.”

“The field doesn’t have girrrrls watching,” Suszter said.

“Lucky shot,” Zolldom, who’d challenged you to make that shot, sighed with resignation.

“Right you are on one count, the other, I’ve learned to appreciate when it’s the case.” Speaking of, you saw Linda jogging up as you poked yourself out of your side of the turret, and you gave her a thumbs up. “How’s that then, Lady in Red? That a performance that’s worthy?”

“Phew,” Linda said, beaming, “I know it’s just a hulk with wheels, but it really looked like you slugged that son of a bitch as hard as you could. What would have happened if it was a real enemy?”

“I’d be real thankful I hit them before they could shoot at me for one,” you had to mention, “But they’d be done for, for sure. That HCAT shell penetrates over ten centimeters of armor with its shaped charge, anything that I know of would be hurting for sure.”

“Victory’s what I’ve come to expect of Reinhold Roth-Vogel,” Linda said approvingly, nodding to herself. “Lucky me that I’m the only one who gets to watch here.”

Praise came to you readily from Linda. She had a fiery passion that was more inclined towards flattering you. For reasons long obvious, though she never seemed to be pretending, either.

“Now let me have another turn!” Linda shouted, “I'm not gonna let anybody outpace me when the machine’s brand new as this one is!

-----

Into the afternoon, after rigorous testing, the research team had scheduled a shift change to pick you up and accept the notes you made, while also transferring a new crew to do further testing.

“Luftpanzer Mk. III Prototype C test complete. All deployment marks outside of weaponry exemplary,” you went down the checklist to the researcher attending you, “See my notes for the things I knew would be a problem, and turned out to be.”

The researcher at base took your clipboard, and sniffed. “I need not relay the smart-aleck comments.”

“Aw, don’t be touchy,” you said, poking the weedy man in the nose between his spectacles, “Be proud I don’t have so much to complain about.”

“Hmph. Am I dismissed, Roth-Vogel?”

“Lieutenant Colonel, Roth-Vogel,” you corrected, “And yes, you are. Run along.”

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The researched skulked away, grumbling. Linda approached from behind and stood by you, cocking her head.

“What’s his problem?” She asked.

“Didn’t eat all his vegetable ration, I reckon. Indigestion.”

“Speaking of,” Linda curled her arm around yours, “I’m famished. Wanna go get something after we finish up here?”

“Acting pretty chummy with a high ranking officer, Falkenstein.”

“Oh, knock it off,” Linda poked you firmly in the cheek, “There’s this traditional place, that serves food as spicy as it used to be for Dhegyar. They’re doing something special since the rationing’s been raised for the rest of the year.”

“Must be banking on the Iceforth opening up,” you guessed darkly, “If they’re tripling the heat of the fire of the west.”

“That a yes or a no?”

>A yes, what did she think? You’d worked up an appetite for some hot stuff too- and Linda probably didn’t need more cooling off, with her blouse so open in this weather.
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…
>Wasn’t Linda in the mood for something more adventurous? The Langenachtfest Street Faires had started up, and they’d surely do something special for stars like yourselves.
>Do something else / Talk about something else?

>>6157875
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…

Let's go see our kid

>>6157875
>A yes, what did she think? You’d worked up an appetite for some hot stuff too- and Linda probably didn’t need more cooling off, with her blouse so open in this weather.

>>6157875
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…

>>6157875
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…

>>6157875
>Wasn’t Linda in the mood for something more adventurous? The Langenachtfest Street Faires had started up, and they’d surely do something special for stars like yourselves.

>>6157875
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…

>>6157875
>Wasn’t Linda in the mood for something more adventurous? The Langenachtfest Street Faires had started up, and they’d surely do something special for stars like yourselves.

>>6157875
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…

>>6157875
>>Wasn’t Linda in the mood for something more adventurous? The Langenachtfest Street Faires had started up, and they’d surely do something special for stars like yourselves.

>>6157880
>>6157886
>>6157896
>>6157937
>>6157990
Damn, you're a father now, aren't you.
With all that paternal responsibility shit.
You definitely aren't telling your father he's a grand dad yet.

>>6157883
Why yes I do like having enough paprika to kill a shark.

>>6157910
>>6157965
>>6158052
The streets are lit up like trees, hit up this new forest.

Updating.

>>6157875
>You’d had enough high heat for the day, starting it with experimental drops and weapons testing. You’d rather you both head to her place and get a bite there- and you ought to see your infant son sometime today, even if you rather hoped others didn’t realize whose he was…

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Spending the rest of the day out and getting a good hot and spicy meal to wash down this airdrop would normally have been an easy choice for you- but there was a new weight of responsibility these days.

“I’ve had enough heat today,” you said with a stretch, “Let’s head to your place. I’ll say hi to Herr Falkenstein, and you’ve got to help take care of Eike, don’t you?”

Linda sniffed questioningly at you. “Dad's out right now. Mom takes care of Eike just fine without me, but okay. You never cared much for babies before, did you?”

The Falkensteins hadn’t kept going at it without cease like your folks did. You’d done plenty your share of help child-rearing, but it didn’t have the same magic that Linda seemed to see in it. “I do feel a bit bad for him. Doesn’t get the best part of being a baby.”

Linda glanced up into the sky at the implication. “…You are right, though. A baby should have something besides substitute milk and mash. I got a friend to find me some mother’s joy root.”

You choked at that. Mother’s Joy was a medicinal herb root that encouraged the body to produce milk, but it being imbibed by anybody but a mother with difficulties producing was…questionable. “Surely you don’t have to do that.”

Linda blinked at you. “Why not? Food’s not so easy to come by, Reinhold, for babies, either. There’s already a demand for more mother’s milk than wet nurses can provide. It’s a good example anyways.”

“Yes, but,” you couldn’t actually think of a good reason. If it was anybody else’s kid, if he was an actual orphan, then… “You know, forget about it.”

“Hmph.” Linda squeezed her eyes tight in indignance, “Well, it’s too late anyways. I spend a pretty pfenning for it, and it’s already getting to work. You could have a little more good cheer about giving, Rein. 'Tis the season.” She pulled you along, “Let’s hurry, then. It’ll be time for his nap in an hour and a half.”

-----

Eike Douran Von Lowenkreuz, though for now, his true name was secret, embraced within the house of the Falkensteins. Plenty knew of the household of Von Lowenkreuz, or rather, that it was defunct. Broken up and purged when they and other nobility plotted a conspiracy against the Kaiser, early in his reign. There was no legacy to claim in that name, and as far as any of the Falkensteins or people they knew were concerned, the baby had been left on their doorstep out of a hope to capitalize off of their celebrity- and lack of more than one child. None would even have believed Von Lowenkreuz had official continuation, were it not for the silver seal that the baby had been left with.

You knew the truth of why he had been left there, though. The boy had much of his mother in him. The odd-colored eyes, the speckles that showed in the sun- and he had his father’s traits as well, if you knew to look for them. He was your son, with Winnifred Von Lowenkreuz.

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In Halmeggia where you’d met her, in the fateful first operation of the Luftpanzers during the Halmeggian Civil Uprising last year, the short lived civil war spurred on by Revolutionaries and disgruntled nobility both, she had been called operationally as Owl 3. In the worst night of your life, she had given you comfort. While you were in the field, evading the enemy while you escaped with the Royal Family, you’d fallen for her. Slept with her. Then she, as she said, promised, had vanished from your life.

She hadn’t left from your mind, though. Your dreams. Ever since she’d departed, you’d wished for her to cross her own expectations and plans to see you again. In a way, she had returned, when you first held Eike. Not what you’d have named him- but you didn’t know that you had gotten Winnifred pregnant, either. You’d only slept with her once. Practically a one-night stand, and she acted as though it were such a casual thing. Yet she’d carried your child, declared him the heir of her name. Named him in part for your dearly departed best friend. Given the calculating frigidity of the Imperial spy, it puzzled you that she’d act with such sentiment after all this time.

Maybe, she’d come back to you after all.

What then, though? Nothing would have changed about either of your situations, as far as the Reich was concerned. Yet she haunted you nevertheless.

“At least your daddy was a looker, huh, kid?” You prodded Eike’s cheek with a finger, and he grabbed at it. Man, you weren’t ready for this… The baby blew a raspberry and gurgled a little giggle. He definitely got the sense of humor from you. He was probably only a few months old, born sometime in September. He’d been left at the Falkensteins around November, and they weren’t given any information on how old the boy was- but you had a good idea.

Linda came from the kitchen, her jacket tossed off, a bottle of freshly made formula in hand. “Eiikee,” she called out, “It’s time for supper~” She brushed passed you and scooped the baby up and held him close against her. “Do you want to try, Rein?” Linda asked as she proffered the bottle to Eike’s mouth.

“…The formula?” You joked. "No thanks."

Linda furrowed her brows for a moment, then sighed when she realized a moment later, “It was only an offer.” She gazed at Eike’s face wistfully after he’d been fed. “You had a very handsome father, didn’t you? Those eyes, too…why wouldn’t your mother want you? You’re such a pretty boy…” She glanced at you, then followed on with an odd, skeptical stare. There was another question hidden within the next. “What do you think, Rein? Why’d he be left with us? I can’t believe that he was unwanted…”

>Maybe his mother didn’t have a choice. Maybe he was a kid she wanted but wasn’t allowed to keep. Who could say? He had a home now, and that was for the best.
>Wasn’t his true name Von Lowenkreuz? Better to be a Falkenstein adoptee than the scion of a disowned house of bluebloods. He’d be come back for- why else would his mother leave him her seal and her name?
>What did it matter? Some people think anything but gold is worthless. Better off not to look for answers here, in your opinion. These sorts of stories weren’t usually happy ones. At least this one would end well.
>Other?

>>6158597
>What did it matter? Some people think anything but gold is worthless. Better off not to look for answers here, in your opinion. These sorts of stories weren’t usually happy ones. At least this one would end well.
Though really, it's probably that second one.

>>6158597
>>Maybe his mother didn’t have a choice. Maybe he was a kid she wanted but wasn’t allowed to keep. Who could say? He had a home now, and that was for the best.

>>6158597
>What did it matter? Some people think anything but gold is worthless. Better off not to look for answers here, in your opinion. These sorts of stories weren’t usually happy ones. At least this one would end well.

>>6158597
>Maybe his mother didn’t have a choice. Maybe he was a kid she wanted but wasn’t allowed to keep. Who could say? He had a home now, and that was for the best.

>>6158597
>>Wasn’t his true name Von Lowenkreuz? Better to be a Falkenstein adoptee than the scion of a disowned house of bluebloods. He’d be come back for- why else would his mother leave him her seal and her name?

>>6158597
>Maybe his mother didn’t have a choice. Maybe he was a kid she wanted but wasn’t allowed to keep. Who could say? He had a home now, and that was for the best.

>>6158597
>Maybe his mother didn’t have a choice. Maybe he was a kid she wanted but wasn’t allowed to keep. Who could say? He had a home now, and that was for the best.

Kind of surprised Reinholds managed to smoke everyone so far, I guess Eike really got his mother's looks besides the eyes ofc

>>6158597
>What did it matter? Some people think anything but gold is worthless. Better off not to look for answers here, in your opinion. These sorts of stories weren’t usually happy ones. At least this one would end well.

I think Reinhold will be a great father desu.

>>6158597
>Wasn’t his true name Von Lowenkreuz? Better to be a Falkenstein adoptee than the scion of a disowned house of bluebloods. He’d be come back for- why else would his mother leave him her seal and her name?

>>6158603
>>6158621
>>6158870
Going digging might not yield treasure, you know.

>>6158614
>>6158636
>>6158690
>>6158712
It must be tragic- a case of cruel fate. That would have romance in it.

>>6158639
>>6158909
Nice name, odd-eyes.

Updating.

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As far as you knew, nobody knew the truth of the matter. You hadn’t told anybody, and you knew for sure that the mother wouldn’t have said anything beyond the note she left. Though you’d been sure that somebody would have been able to tell. Linda was a nice girl, but her mother, Panni, Frau Falkenstein, had said Linda had decided she’d take care of the little boy practically on the spot, precluding any investigations…

It wasn’t like Winnifred had told you either, you hadn’t so much as heard of her existing ever since you’d parted ways. Yet you knew her story, her circumstances, well enough to tell a story.

“Maybe his mother didn’t have a choice,” you brushed your son’s cheek with your fingers, and he stared inquisitively at you. Like even he knew. Was he a bastard? Winnifred had just as well declared him her legitimate son, that being something nobility were always able to do, affirm autonomy over their bloodline. The real question was if you would recognize him… “Maybe she wanted the kid, but for some reason, she couldn’t keep him. Who knows? He’s got a home now, doesn’t he? For the best, I think.”

Linda glared for a moment. Something was intensely disappointing about what you’d said. What part?

“Something about that piss you off?” You asked.

“No,” Linda bit her lip and clicked her tongue, “Just expected something more.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing.” Linda held out Eike to you. “Go on, he likes you, y’know. Don’t need to ask to hold him.” You took him, and he clutched up to you in wonderment. “Rein?”

“Yeah?”

“Langenachtfest is coming up,” she said carefully, even if there was every reminder already present not only in the home, but on the streets, in the very songs sung. “You’re not…accounted for?”

You shook your head. “Nah. You?”

Linda frowned. “You already know, Rein. It’s the same as every other year I’ve lived.” She didn’t find it something to joke about. “I know you’re…how you are, Rein. Just…think about it, okay?”

This again. “I’ve told you, Linda,, you can do better. You should go after the best man you can. They’d probably come to you if you gave ‘em a chance.”

“I am chasing the best man,” Linda insisted firmly, “I don’t care if you think otherwise. All I’ve done for you, everything I’m doing for you, if it were anybody else, I’d say I deserve more. But I’ve always admired how free your spirit is, Rein. How you just throw yourself forward, and the world makes way. For better or worse. When I was little, it made me want to be great like that. Today, it makes you my only equal.” She walked up and rested her hands on your shoulders, Eike between you. “I won’t bother you about it anymore. But when the long night comes, I want my answer. I’m not too good for you, Rein. It’s you who’s too good to be digging through trash.”

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She seemed so terribly convinced. Well, yes, you were quite good. The top, practically. Yet your greatest award, in your mind, was still recognition for a failure.

-----

December 22, 1933

The last thing that the Kaiser’s Luftwaffe wanted out of you this year had been done. A Lieutenant-Colonel was usually a rather busy man, but you were a special case, in a special command, but this was also a special Langenachtfest, even if the reason for that was an ominous one.

The next day came, and you woke up refreshingly late in the morning in your apartment. Despite the increase in pay and prestige, you still lingered in the same sparsely furnished old three-room that you’d been staying in for years. It served its purpose, it wasn’t a bad place, even if the rent was high and you hardly ever stayed in it besides to sleep. Though it was a lot quieter and emptier, with your last girlfriend’s sense of décor still hanging up, whatever surfaces, wall or table or counter top, fully populated. Eidan hadn’t lived with you anyways, but she couldn’t stand how the utilitarian the place had been.

She was still here in this city, but you weren’t in a relationship presently. Mutually agreed upon time apart to consider the future, even if you still had lewd photos of her stashed in your nightstand.

Eidan wasn’t on your mind when you went out today though. You had things to do that there’d be no space for yesterday, or for a day besides their own…

>…The Graveyard required your presence. Above ground, of course, but the dead needed some cheer shared with them. Even if the only ghosts to quiet, hopefully, were your own.
>You’d still not done your Langenachtfest gift shopping. Best to have that done sooner rather than later now, especially since the Falkensteins needed the aid of your officer’s ration allowances to get what they wanted together for the Longest Night’s Feast.
>…A private gala hosted at the Imperial Consulate near here. Who invited you, who could say, as it was kept purposefully secret…
>Something Else?

>>6159513
>…A private gala hosted at the Imperial Consulate near here. Who invited you, who could say, as it was kept purposefully secret…

I sense plot

>>6159513
>You’d still not done your Langenachtfest gift shopping. Best to have that done sooner rather than later now, especially since the Falkensteins needed the aid of your officer’s ration allowances to get what they wanted together for the Longest Night’s Feast.

>>6159513
>You’d still not done your Langenachtfest gift shopping. Best to have that done sooner rather than later now, especially since the Falkensteins needed the aid of your officer’s ration allowances to get what they wanted together for the Longest Night’s Feast.
we can stop by the gala later, right?

>>6159513
>You’d still not done your Langenachtfest gift shopping. Best to have that done sooner rather than later now, especially since the Falkensteins needed the aid of your officer’s ration allowances to get what they wanted together for the Longest Night’s Feast.

>>6159544
>we can stop by the gala later, right?
No. While this might sound arbitrary, the reason is twofold- because each thing is meant to cover a day's worth of time, and also, part of my master plan to not have a monthly special extend into a three-month double thread. Combing over every thread would have that become a guarantee.

>>6159513
>You’d still not done your Langenachtfest gift shopping. Best to have that done sooner rather than later now, especially since the Falkensteins needed the aid of your officer’s ration allowances to get what they wanted together for the Longest Night’s Feast.

>>6159554
alright, then I'll change my vote to
>…A private gala hosted at the Imperial Consulate near here. Who invited you, who could say, as it was kept purposefully secret…

>>6159513
>>…A private gala hosted at the Imperial Consulate near here. Who invited you, who could say, as it was kept purposefully secret…

>>6159513
>…A private gala hosted at the Imperial Consulate near here. Who invited you, who could say, as it was kept purposefully secret…

>>6159554
What's an Imperial Consulate in this context, I assume we're not talking about an embassy here since we're in the Reich proper(?)

>>6159518
>>6159565
>>6159620
>>6159657
Surprise Party

>>6159519
>>6159549
>>6159564
Not running things down to the edge.

I've got a dentist appointment, so I'll hold off calling and updating until that's done in a few hours.

>>6159666
>What's an Imperial Consulate in this context, I assume we're not talking about an embassy here since we're in the Reich proper
It isn't an embassy, no, at least not for a foreign country. Since the Grossreich is made up of Protectorates, though, which have had more autonomy since the Emrean War to the chagrin of the Core Reich, an Imperial Consulate is a meeting point for basically whoever's in that region for whatever diplomatic processes might need to be addressed between local protectorates. Considering the present status of protectorates, however, foreign countries in the region usually have representatives in the local Imperial Consulate too, despite the place not being made for them, since one of the few things protectorates still weren't allowed is their own embassies and thus foreign diplomatic operations.
TL;DR it's a little embassy for other Imperial states.

Alright, I have returned.
Updating.

Sorry for the delays everybody, just haven't slept right and it affected my productivity something fierce.
It'll be out soon though.

File: lpln_scene15_protectorare(...).jpg (433 KB, 1182x946)

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A curious, on-the-spot invitation had arrived in your apartment mail just that morning, with the seal of the Kaiser- not a missive from him, of course, but from the government of the Reich. From the Imperial Consulate in the city, informing you of an invitation to the gala being hosted today, though the name of your patron was, oddly, left blank.

The Imperial Consulate was a relic of the last century, a time when the Grossreich was closer together, when the protectorates were all under the umbrella of the Kaiser’s reign. These days, the protectorates were practically independent states in allegiance with the central “Reich Proper,” and though the big fancy building was no longer an administrative hub between territories, it still served some of its former function in coordinating diplomacy between the Reich and the protectorates nearby, which here in the northwest of the heart of the Reich, was Staubentroch, Emerrach, and Westbuchtr, as well as the Gepte. While Halmeggia was its own country, they also had a presence at the Consulate. Being a close associate of the Reich, the business of the protectorates often intersected with their own.

It certainly had during the Halmeggia Civil War, the uprising last year. The reason your airborne battalion had been the ones to intervene had been to circumvent the protectorates’ restrictions on the Reich when it came to military movements.

The Imperial Consulate was across the city, so you had a fellow apartment man, Imperial officer, and your second in command for the Luftpanzer Demi-Battalion drive you, rather than borrowing Herr Falkenstein’s car (You were saving for a panty-dropper hot rod). Even if your subordinate wasn’t happy about it.

“Here we are,” Captain Covacs said, a dreary Dhegyar fellow with a bitter sarcasm to his character that never failed to come out, thin of face and body both with the sort of eyes that managed to be empty and full at the same time. “I woke up today thinking, how do I want to spend my end of the year holiday? If only my superior officer would require me to drive him around. The only way it could be better is if he had me take us to an underground fighting ring to get pummeled into a paste by some Dustlands mutant thug.”

You got out of Covac’s (shitty) car, as did he. “Sounds like somebody’s all fussy because he’s hungry,” you teased, “The rationing ain’t that bad, not even before the Langenachtfest raise. Paratroopers shouldn’t have extra bulk anyways. Tell you what, to make it up to you, I’ll push you in for long enough to sample every tray on every table. I’ll walk back.”

“I want to know who in the world invited you here,” Covacs said as he shut the door behind him, “No name on the letter, to this place? It’s not even suspicious. Just odd.”

“I’m a good person to be friendly with around here, recently. Same for you?”

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“Perhaps,” Covacs eyed you as you walked around his car to him, “The Luftpanzer Demi-Battalion is the premier rapid-action unit in this side of the Grossreich, some might say the whole of it. Though I think any authority of the Protectorates would rather chew their own arm off rather than ask the Kaiser to lend them his strength in a crisis.”

“But in case they do,” you cracked your knuckles, then your neck, “Nobody better to drop in.”

Covacs stared with half lidded eyes. “In case any of them do ask for favors, you wouldn’t mind refusing, would you.”

“You’ve used up your holiday favor already, Covacs.”

Both of you were in as fine a uniform as you’d cared to put on- which was but Luftwaffe armored units’ black dress trousers, black caps, and the leather pilot’s jacket of the Luftpanzers on top, it little mattered what was under that, because nobody could make you dress in the uniform of the other members of the Luftwaffe. Nobody would mistake you for anybody else, anywhere.

The guards to the Imperial Consulate gave you trouble at first, with your name being present on the invitation but not who it came from- then, you were allowed in, but not Covacs, but ten minutes of cajoling and pestering later, you managed to get the gatehouse to overlook that Lieutenant Reinhold Roth-Vogel was not technically allowed guests accompanied with himself, as he was an officer in need of an attendant himself. Finally, you both could stride coolly, yet pridefully, through the front door.

Once inside, you were struck across the face with the melody of brass, the preferred sound of the middle class over the strings and wind of the old money, as well as the scent of a hundred things that surely were using up a very large portion of rationing, barely edged out by the Reich’s native herbs that would never be so devastated as the late harvests apparently had been- and even within the first set of doors, there were already guests who gawked at you and murmured. Your presence was unexpected, but not unwelcome- and in this city, in this circle, you were a celebrity.

In Kaiser Henrik’s Grossreich, these upper crust folk were not merely nobility. There were the lords from the protectorates, yes, and they ensured they stood out, but most of the guests were diplomats and civilian dignitaries, of a new sort that were not old landed blood nor quite ordinary common folk themselves. People who, in the new Reich, could claw their way up from nothing so long as they stood out enough. The new-minded touch of the Kaiser and his cabinet, as well as the ascendant Parliament, did not disseminate too much into the Protectorates, but it was still to a much larger degree than had ever been before.

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Amongst the suits and vests and jackets, uniform in shape if not color and style, and the gorgets and flowers and sashes, those who wore differently stood out. The wives of dignitaries were not dressed particularly flashily, so when there was the splash of vivid color and the glint of gold and glitter of gems, there was assuredly a noble- yet none of them could hope to compare to who must have been the young star of this gala, even if her garb was more modest than her high house brethren.

Pale, fair, and tall- taller than most women, or men for that matter, perhaps a little taller than you even. She was a woman who couldn’t help but stand out in several ways, from her height to her red hair, to a quality that would be immensely rude to point out, but immense was the proper word for them. Most of all, it was her eyes, though. Glinting gold in a way no human eye could have been imagined to, the mark of the Halmeggian Royal Family, undoubtedly Edelina Von Halm-Auric- Her Majesty, the Queen, though when you met her she was Crown-Princess.

It seemed, somehow, she had noticed you before you her- something you believed should be impossible, yet she walked forward with delicate clicking of small heels, as her prodigious height make more than the minimum unnecessary- and another prodigious size meant that even a wintry coat that would not flatter any other figure struggled to contain her, even though you were familiar enough with her to know she was a modest young prude.

“Honorable Lieutenant-Colonel,” Edelina addressed you. There was a shiver in her shoulders- like she had to remind herself that a Queen did not bow, nor even make the implication of such a thing. “I am glad to see you attend. Pardon my anonymity in my summons, but I had thought that you may not come here were it known I wished it be so.”

…Yet. In her innocence, her optimistic, generous and soft naïveté, she had informed the Revolutionaries whom would ruin her country of the plans to counteract them, thinking that bloodshed might be minimized in the case of a battle presumed, that would not need to happen. She had not accounted that her presumption would be taken advantage of. She had underestimated the bitterness of the Revolution, and the cruelty of a sore victor. That action and its consequences were unknown to any but you two.

It had been a difficult lesson for her to learn. Yet then, she had been princess, and now, she was Queen.

>Surely she was tired of formality. Greet her in a casual fashion- ungentlemanly, even, just to be funny.
>Give a stern salute. You were not friends, you would suppose. Professionalism was expected- though not your cup of tea, to be frank.
>Bow and scrape, perhaps kneel. You spoke with a Queen- and you should treat her near as though you spoke with the Kaiser.
>Other?

>>6160989
>>Surely she was tired of formality. Greet her in a casual fashion- ungentlemanly, even, just to be funny.

>>6160989
>Surely she was tired of formality. Greet her in a casual fashion- ungentlemanly, even, just to be funny.

>>6160989
>Surely she was tired of formality. Greet her in a casual fashion- ungentlemanly, even, just to be funny.

>>6160989
>Surely she was tired of formality. Greet her in a casual fashion- ungentlemanly, even, just to be funny.
lets throw her a curveball

>>6160989
>>Give a stern salute. You were not friends, you would suppose. Professionalism was expected- though not your cup of tea, to be frank.

>>6160989
>Salute her loosely; give her the becoming respect but do not be too stiff and stand-offish.

>>6160991
>>6160994
>>6161077
>>6161078
An ungentlemanly ice breaker.

>>6161105
The obligation.

>>6161111
The former, but less icy.

I'll leave things up for an hour and a half more, just because the ungentlemanly greeting is rather vague in what it is, whether it involves any action or just being rogue in language. To be honest, I should have added a write-in prompt for it, since such is sort of what was expected anyways...

>>6161132
>>6160994
Just be a bit irreverent.
Perhaps being all causal like 'Nice to see you again Edelina' as if we were close friends or something along those line.

>>6160986
damn boys, it hurts seeing our dear Vitelia in this state, i forgot how fucked it ends up

>>6160989
>Surely she was tired of formality. Greet her in a casual fashion- ungentlemanly, even, just to be funny.

>>6161132
>I should have added a write-in prompt for it, since such is sort of what was expected anyways...
Greet her like you'd greet Linda. However that would be.

>>6161132
>offer her a fistbump

>>6161136
>>6161184
>>6161188
Variations.

Updating, I'll see if I can get it done before work, and if I can't, I'll just go one picture less.

>>6161155
It won't be long before you can try to deal with it.

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“How’s it going, beautiful?” You said with a goofy grin and a wave, “I see the girls are doing fantastic as usual, eh?”

Queen Edelina blinked at you, wide eyed and completely confused, utterly unused to being addressed with…any of that. Finally, after a solid ten seconds of staring strangely with those glittering, luminescent gold eyes while murmurs came softly from behind her, she finally sputtered out, “Er. What? Whom? Who do you mean?”

She really didn’t know, or was she just good at playing pretend? “Don’t worry about it. Here.” You proffered a fist. “Knuckle up.”
Edelina stared at your hand, then at you, before grabbing your hand and shaking it awkwardly. “In any case. I appreciate it, but there is no need to flatter me, Herr Lieutenant Colonel.”

“I was just returning your own flattery, Edelina.” You put on a slightly more serious set of manners. “So. Good to see you again, but I take it that there was a reason you wanted me here. Besides just to be in my good company. Why would I turn down an invitation from the Queen of Halmeggia?”

Edelina looked relieved, yet still apprehensive. “I did want to meet with you, but I thought to at least reward you for obliging me, whether you knew so or not.”

It hardly needed to be said that Edelina had plenty to bait any proverbial hook with, even if she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Come,” Edelina nodded to her guards, and they kept a new distance. “We’ve a matter that should be discussed in private.” When you raised an eyebrow, she added hastily, “It is very serious, Herr Lieutenant Colonel. I do not mean to offend, but I did not invite you here solely as an honor to you.”

“I’m hardly offended.” How could you be? Though what would she ask for? She spoke as you both went to a back hallway, eyes all upon you as you departed with such an important figure.

“You must be aware of recent developments, I assume,” Edelina said, not waiting to be alone for her initial words. “In the west. My new role, as well as what is happening near my charges.”

“I’ll admit, I only learned of your coronation too late to send any congratulation. Though I figure you didn’t need that from little old me.”

“You and your men did save my life, Herr Roth-Vogel,” Edelina said gently with a turn of her head, “As well as that of my brother. That elevates you and yours beyond societal considerations.” There was a twinge of guilt in her voice for another thing left unsaid. “Alexander still searches the mountains, persistent in his search for…other means of ascent. Which brings me to why I have asked for you in private.” She turned around and put her back to the wall, none others nearby. “The Grimoire of Relqa. You have it still?”

The old dusty tome that Edelina had absconded from her country with. An artifact of her family, centuries old. What it did was a mystery. All she had deigned to share about it was that she had sought to see it safely removed of the land- and hidden away, perhaps for good. Supposedly, it held great power within it, but all you’d ever seen it be was a big, heavy, dusty old book. It had gone from being stored at the Falkenstein’s, to your own parents’ attic, and a cousin of yours had actually found it, but when forced to confess what he witnessed, he said that the pages had been completely blank…and after you’d made sure of that, the thing remained locked in a chest and forgotten ever since. Perhaps not too different from what it had been doing since after Relqa Von Auric had defeated the Dhegyars in the foundation of the Kingdom of Halmeggia.

“I took it with me,” you said vaguely, “Didn’t you say you wanted it buried and forgotten?” That hadn’t quite happened, but it may as well have, as far as anybody trying to find it was concerned.

“I would wish that it be returned to me,” Edelina said suddenly, resolutely. “I wanted to be rid of the weight of its obligation. I…never wished to be queen. Yet now I am, and to make up for my failures to my people, I must be more than I was. More than I am.” She grasped the ruby below her throat, “I’ve no choice any longer to flee and hide. If I am to keep my crown, to deny it to any other, I cannot lay down and do nothing. I soon return to Halmeggia, and even if the current compromise has no plans for Parliament, I will not be a puppet of the Army nor the Aristocracy. The Kaiser would grant me whatever aid I wish, but the Reich can be both so close and so distant, in the right unfortunate event.”

You hooked your thumbs in your pockets. “The Crown Prince feels the same way, doesn’t he?”

“He would, yes,” Edelina allowed, “I entrusted the Grimoire into your care, Lieutenant Colonel. I did not do so lightly. If you believe my own past words, that it is better off having faded into legend permanently, then I will not begrudge you for acting in accordance. I will simply have to account for the lack of it in the days to come. However…” She closed her eyes and bowed her head, “Know that it is so precious now, that you could name any price, any favor whatsoever, and I would grant it in exchange for the Grimoire.”
Her eyes remained closed as she waited for a response, something you had to think on.

...Was there anything you even wanted that would have such a high price? That you wouldn't rather win yourself?

>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.
>Still sounded like it was better off lost. Even with the high offer of any price, you’d still have to turn down this offer. Or even allow the implication that you knew where the old tome was.
>Other?

>>6161260
>>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.
>+Other: "Even if that meant becoming solely mine to love? You were pretty broad after all."

>>6161260
>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.
1) Have her tell us exactly what the book does, how it works, and what she'll do with it, no secrets.
2) Let us honk her breasts, more for the novelty than anything else.
That's all I want from her. Tits and knowledge.
Reinhold got better girls at home waiting for him.

>>6161260
>>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.
Let's just say that she owes us one. Well, not that she didn't already. We'll cash in that favor when we need it.

>>6161260
>Still sounded like it was better off lost. Even with the high offer of any price, you’d still have to turn down this offer. Or even allow the implication that you knew where the old tome was.
Yeah, this seems like a bad move. If she's not outright demanding/begging to give it back, we should just keep it. Would be safest for everyone.
I want to promise we'd come to her aid if she needs it, but it's not Reinhold's choice.

>>6161260
>Still sounded like it was better off lost. Even with the high offer of any price, you’d still have to turn down this offer. Or even allow the implication that you knew where the old tome was.

>>6161373
This

>>6161260
>>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.

Cash it in for later

>>6161260
>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.

We can't really deny her what's hers, but make her tell us everything about it, no more elusive answers, how can some blank book nobody knows about help her political situation.

>>6161260
>Still sounded like it was better off lost. Even with the high offer of any price, you’d still have to turn down this offer. Or even allow the implication that you knew where the old tome was.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8npqOD_XKY

>>6161260
>Still sounded like it was better off lost. Even with the high offer of any price, you’d still have to turn down this offer. Or even allow the implication that you knew where the old tome was.

>>6161260
>Still sounded like it was better off lost. Even with the high offer of any price, you’d still have to turn down this offer. Or even allow the implication that you knew where the old tome was.

>>6161260
>Well, you did know where it was. If she wanted to have it so bad…you could hand it back over. “Any price, any favor” was fascinatingly broad.

>>6161267
>>6161270
>6161373
>6161406
>6161442
>6161446
>6161681
That offer will be taken...
...Even if it's uncertain what you want. Besides the burden of knowledge.
Both of ancient books and what a queen's breasts feel like.
I won't actually go along with requesting honks as more than a joke if people are against it

>>6161392
>6161403
>6161471
>6161619
>6161622
Better off for some things to remain buried. The dead, the unknown, and whatever specter of old times this tome might dredge up alongside it, for whatever price.

I'll leave things up for another hour and a half before calling and updating, though I think most everybody has voted now, more to let myself wake up more.

>>6161742
I'd rather not have the breast groping, feels like high school boy shit

>>6161755
This

>>6161742
We can leave the groping for the sheets. This is not the time. She will be ours in a possible future

>>6161755
>>6161756
>>6161775
Duly noted.
Updating!

>>6161790
Besides the Luftpanzers, how big is the Reich airborne corps?

>>6161871
>Besides the Luftpanzers, how big is the Reich airborne corps?
Five divisions, organized into two Corps, the 10th and 15th (or X and XV if you like being fancy) Fliegerkorps, being subordinate to the Luftwaffe rather than the Imperial Army. The Luftpanzer Demi-Battalion, as the unit was before being reorganized, is under the 15th Fliegerkorps, though not attached to either of the two paratrooper divisions.
Reinhold and his pals were part of the 1st Fallschirmjager Division's Airlanding Regiment until they got into the Luftpanzer project.
The Luftwaffe is said to be the favorite son of the Kaiser, though to be true, that has helped to make it the most feared branch of the Imperial Armed Forces by the Grossreich's rivals.

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There was something ominous about this, but it did belong to her, and her family. Though remaining so ignorant about something so basic as what it even was felt off.

“Sure,” you decided, “If you want it back, and you want it bad, then I’ll hand it over. But, any price, any favor? That’s fascinatingly broad, you know. What if I said I wanted your hand in marriage?”

Edelina was taken aback, but made her upper lip stiff. “I-I am of the Royal Family, Herr Reinhold. I was the Crown Princess, and now am Queen. The matter of my marriage will always have been a question of expediency, especially now. Even if…not so long ago…I had dearly wished it not to be so.”

“Relax,” you said, “I was just saying.” If you really wanted to give her a heart attack you’d ask to feel her up, but that seemed mean to say. “I’ll just keep whatever favor it is in the bank until I need it, if that’s alright. But there’s a few things I want to know, giving this thing back.” Edelina raised an eyebrow, as you spoke your question. “That big book- what is it really? What does it even do? It can’t be just a big wad of old blank paper if you’ll trade whatever you can for it.”

Edelina pursed her lips, and looked to the side. “It is not blank, it only appears so…”

Somehow, Edelina seemed more hesitant to tell you about the Grimoire than she’d be about anything else. You nodded, and whirled a hand to try and tell her to keep going.

“I cannot tell you here,” Edelina said with a firmness you hadn’t heard from her before, “You ask for knowledge that is only shared from one to a singular person. My father from his mother, from her, her father. From me to but one of my children, whenever that day comes. That is how it has been for centuries. If I am to break this law out of necessity, to make up for my own failures, I will at least have no other people have the slightest chance of overhearing.”

You looked around- nobody seemed to be listening, but then, the walls and corridors could hide much. “Fine. Formal parties are too stuffy for me, anyways. I’ll stay long enough to look polite, then we can mosey.”

Edelina let out a relieved breath. “That would be good. My guards should be satisfied, your fame is from protecting my person, after all.”

“Really?” You feigned disappointment, “I thought it would be from my dashing charm and my handsome countenance.”

The Queen frowned, golden eyes staring spotlights into you. “I thought that was kinder than what I have actually heard of your character before I came here…”

“Heh. Maybe. Too bad there’s no dancing going on right now, else we might test what you’ve been told.” Covacs would want to be rid of this place as soon as you would be, but his cheap car only had room for two- and a lady of Edelina’s size wouldn’t be crammed into the little extra space there was. So, he’d be lending you that transport...

-----

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A short drive away, and you had taken the Queen of Halmeggia to a hilltop park. A disused and gloomy one where a monument to a hero of the Emrean War stood, it might have been a nice place, but the scuffed stone statue was to a man who had turned on Kaiser Henrik early in his reign, and thus, languished in prison. The people were no more magnanimous- thus, this otherwise scenic location was reliably empty.

Edelina stared morosely at the dismally kempt statue of black stone, dusty and snowed over, no name visible beneath the frost. “Will history always treat this man so, I wonder.”

“He made his choice, rolled the dice. When you gamble, you can’t complain when you lose your bet.” You brushed off a bench with your hands, and motioned to Edelina, who sat down lightly, doubtful of the bench, before settling into it heavily with a deep sigh.

“Ah…” She turned her head to the sky, “I mean no offense, but it has been too long since I have had space to myself like this.”

“The walk uphill tucker you out that much?” You asked.

“No. Perhaps.” Edelina admitted, closing her eyes, “I would rather lie down, if I could.”

“Shoulders hurt?”

“You’ve not an idea,” Edelina let slip out, as her chin fell again, eyes kept closed. “Had I the choice, I would do something to ease them, for once in my life, but when I complain, all urge me to bear the weight as I would shoulder the responsibility of the throne, for the people of my kingdom…I’ve no idea what is wrong with me, my mother was not burdened like this, and father’s, of Halm-Auric, was not…” Her eyes flicked open and she grimaced. “Pray forget that I spoke so. That was inappropriate to share.”She paused. “At least I am not held in contempt for it, like other facts of my birth, of being alive. What say you? If you were given freely something that must seem a blessing, what the love and hate of others has made a gilded weight, is it so wrong to consider cutting oneself free? At least bracing the weight, if it cannot be broken away?”

…Was she talking about rulership, crowns, or of the prior subject? Frankly, you could answer both at once.

>If her shoulders hurt, then you could massage them, if she liked. You were good at that, you were told- you were both alone, weren’t you? No need to comment on why it’d be needed.
>Her admirers were right, though. Didn’t it feel at least a little good, worth it, to be so blessed? To the point that she was unique? Such paired well with the golden eyes. Worth the weight in gold, as they say.
>If you were being honest, people ill appreciated the weight of a heavy chest…crown rather, anyways. It was inconsiderate to the rest of her. Her Majesty could probably lessen the weight by half and still be a bright star for her people, after all.
>Other?

>>6162196
>Other
That's why she needs to gather people she can trust to share the weight with her, every good leader requires competent and loyal subordinates.

>>6162196
>If her shoulders hurt, then you could massage them, if she liked. You were good at that, you were told- you were both alone, weren’t you? No need to comment on why it’d be needed.
>+Other: Regardless of whether she accepts or not give her the advice: It never is wrong to consider it, however there are weights worth bearing. If she cannot break away from the weight then it'll become necessary to share it with those who are willing help.

(I just think saying this with a shoulder massage would look nice as a scene)

>>6162227
+1

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>>6162196
>If her shoulders hurt, then you could massage them, if she liked. You were good at that, you were told- you were both alone, weren’t you? No need to comment on why it’d be needed.
>Other: Regardless of whether she accepts or not give her the advice: It never is wrong to consider it, however there are weights worth bearing. If she cannot break away from the weight then it'll become necessary to share it with those who are willing help.

Sometimes, true strength is not finding the ability to do it all on one's own, but having the wisdom to determine who can be trusted to be strong with you and help carry the load.
However, working on yourself and determining what you truly want in life is a big part of that too. Can't even start asking for help if you don't really know what you want help doing.

>>6162309
Wise words anon, i second this.

Have they figured out breast reduction surgery in this setting yet? Because this goes beyond mommy milkers into macromastia territory.

>>6162437
>Because this goes beyond mommy milkers into macromastia territory.
They're nowhere near that huge. Biggest in the quest for sure, but not medically troubling.

>>6162196
>Her admirers were right, though. Didn’t it feel at least a little good, worth it, to be so blessed? To the point that she was unique? Such paired well with the golden eyes. Worth the weight in gold, as they say.
Hell why not double down and gaslight her into getting /more/ breast?

>>6162437
>Have they figured out breast reduction surgery in this setting yet?
It's the 30s so, yes. Most modern surgeries were figured out by the interwar period, they were just less reliable.

>>6162488
Perhaps not medically but they are certainly morally troubling. In my opinion breast reduction surgery should be mandatory for everyone over a C cup. Reasonably sized breasts are the only thing separating us from those utopian savages.

>>6162196
>Her admirers were right, though. Didn’t it feel at least a little good, worth it, to be so blessed? To the point that she was unique? Such paired well with the golden eyes. Worth the weight in gold, as they say.

It is known that proper sleep gives more energy towards tasks that require thought. Yet I still neglect it and wonder why my energy is sapped until I even out the difference.

>>6162201
Share the load- have other people hold it.

>>6162227
>>6162240
>>6162309
>>6162431
Firstly, we start with a shoulder rub so I can cut down shitty little trees.
Balking at a heavy burden is natural, but if it is worth it, yet beyond one's own strength, what sense is there in doing it alone?

>>6162542
>>6162646
Some burdens are so because they are more valuable even than gold, a value well understood, not to be underestimated.

Updating.

>>6162437
>Have they figured out breast reduction surgery in this setting yet? Because this goes beyond mommy milkers into macromastia territory.
They have, as have most modern places as >>6162542 observed, though the Grossreich is considered particularly medically advanced- supposedly, much in the way of experimentation and development was accelerated by the unique demands of the Emrean War and certain key minds that had an uncertain level of significant effect combined with extremely utilitarian ethics, but there's no room to go into detail here and now. Just that certain fields are aided by particular flora, while others have particular genius aiding them.
I don't like to make 1-1 comparisons to the real world, just so that presumptions aren't a certainty, but to be more clear cut, the Reich is an early and eager investor in the field of microsurgery and all that springs from it, so they are notably advanced and have been for long enough for the world to know it.

>>6162553
This implies that there is the equivalent of a political alignment chart based off of figure preference to separate revolutionary from reactionary, or autocracy from anarchy. A Politital Alignment perhaps.
Perhaps the split of Vitelia should have been seen coming were this technique devised earlier.

>>6162732
You know if we weren't actually personally involved in it what would be the chances of Vitelia ending up divided like Valsten, or is one faction supposed to triumph?

>>6162734
It is something for you all to decide in the future through action, but frankly, with the upset to the continent caused by what's going on in the east with the Caelussians and Naukland, there's more room for opportunism than ever, and things are set to happen and past things elaborated on that makes answering that an incredibly unclear question to answer.
However, as far as outward appearances to the rest of the world go, and statements made on diplomatic channels go, neither Vitelia will accept being divided like Valsten accepted.

>>6162739
To add onto this, it's at the point where I wouldn't necessarily call the map beyond the Reich's western borders in the earlier pictures accurate- who knows what you might get up to concerning messing with that.

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First things first. A lady ought to be made comfortable in the presence of a man- your father disapproved of the character you’d developed in manhood, had developed when you left the household earlier than most youths, but he had taught you a few things useful to both gentlemen and rakes alike.

“Before I talk about that? If your shoulders hurt,” you offered, standing behind Edelina, “I’m told I’m pretty good as a masseuse. If you’d like, just ask, and I’ll push the strain out of them.”

“Would you?” Edelina asked quickly, then caught herself. “…It would be unseemly. It is inappropriate for me to be touched so…intimately.”

“It’s nothing like that, is it?” You returned, “Besides, it isn’t like anybody’s around to see.”

Edelina was still hesitant, but one need overpowered the other in the absence of reinforcement. “Do so, then.”

“As her majesty requests,” you took off your gloves, cracked your knuckles, and loosened the Queen’s capelet, to get under to her neck and shoulders. “Sheesh. You’re tensed like you’ve been scared stiff.”

“I have been frightened a long time.” Edelina offered an explanation that wasn’t I have huge tits, as she shifted her arms under her bosom, perhaps to offset some mass. “…Your hands are very warm.”

“They’ve got enough blood on them.”

“…Do you think yourself so?”

“Bad joke, sorry.” You pinched and rubbed around the bones, the tendons in need of relief. Edelina was right, this was usually more a matter of intimacy for you rather than something casual, but when you felt for the pain, you could tell that it was left for long. “You know,” you finally addressed her initial question, “Sometimes, we get a deal put on us that’s real heavy. It could be something really good, really important, but there’s no shame in wondering if we can really bear the weight. Hell, I’m at a rank where most people would be a lot more certain they earned it, but I’m both a man plenty grown but not near old enough to be a Oberst-Leutnant."

You gave a clench that made Edelina squeak, but sigh right after. "But even back when I was only in command of a company, I didn’t have to shoulder that weight alone. Not in leading, not in even crewing a tank. You’ve got more to shoulder than most people can think of. If you’re not strong enough for what’s been put on you, maybe the answer isn’t to try and become strong enough to keep trying yourself. If you can’t break away from that weight, for whatever reason? No shame in sharing it with people who trust in you. Who you trust. If it's something you can’t set aside, what choice do you have? Sometimes you need a shoulder rub.” You paused, having rambled on long enough to think yourself mostly done. “Or to let somebody else take some of the weight off, hold them for a while. Only if you ask nicely, though.”

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“Hmm…” Edelina sighed a long breath, held in relief. “I appreciate it, Herr Roth-Vogel. That you are so willing to help share the weight, in your own way.” She stammered out an addition. “N-not like the other way. The metaphorical way.” You wouldn’t turn her down if she actually considered it, to be fair. “Perhaps my father felt as I do now,” she continued to muse wistfully. “…If you could continue with my shoulders?”

“I think all the knots are out, but alright.” Maybe she really wanted or needed a hug, but this was more acceptable.

“Father was a kind king, but that gentleness made him allow all manner of enemies to take root,” Edelina went on from before, “Like Lucius to the west, I suppose. All throughout when I grew up, I had no reason to believe that most people of Halmeggia felt anything but respect and admiration for us, their Royal Family. Yet when the country broke, when the people rose in revolt alongside whomever offered them the future they thought best, the house of Halm-Auric found itself standing by themselves. Father thought his gentleness would engender love, but it did the opposite. The corruption of the Aristocrats, the festering of the Revolution, the opportunism and frustration of the Military, when everything broke down, none of them would be coming to save us. Only, perhaps, to use us, at best. We turned out to be so shockingly alone, save for those sworn to us in the duty of life guards. My family could hardly believe it. No matter what others may claim, the truth is that the only ones who hurried to save us turned out to be the Reich.”

You could have been faster. Yet, in truth, when you went over how to do that in your head after the fact, combined with the timeline as it had been revealed in the months after, you might have lacked the sheer strength to stop what had ended up happening. At least you’d managed to do what part you had.

That question wasn’t what was in your mind now, though.

“You had the Grimoire, though.” You pointed out, “If it’s so pricelessly powerful as you say, would it have helped you hold out? It couldn’t help you?”

Edelina thought a moment. “It is time to reveal that then, is it. The relic of my most honored ancestor...Not all of it. Some now, the rest, after you return the Grimoire.”

“Deal.”

“To start with…no, using it in the moment would not have been possible. I will say why, but you must understand before anything else that it makes the use of forces that are beyond the perception or understanding of most. Calling it magic is crude, and incorrect, but I will not waste time trying to explain the specifics. They are unimportant anyways, compared to the function of the Grimoire.”

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“Duly noted. Magic.” A hard pill to swallow, but she wasn’t lying. Whether you’d believe what she said was still up for debate. “So what does it do?”

“The Grimoire allows, in the briefest terms,” Edelina said, “A power of Empathy. To form a link between oneself and another being, another presence, and to influence it. Steadily and slowly, but without any barrier save for the passage of time, not like a gun to simply point and shoot. It is of little use in a sudden emergency, because of that.”

“Alright. Empathy.” You tried to wrap up that mess in your head, “It doesn’t sound very useful, y’know.”

“It may not seem so,” Edelina said, “But it was the secret that so utterly destroyed the Dheg Khante. You think of Empathy as an individual act. The Grimoire of Relqa does not.”

…From your knowledge of history, the Iceforth Gale’s descent cutting the Dhegyar Khanate in twain was the final nail in the coffin in their defeat, but that seemed more inevitable poor fortune than anything. Besides, they had been getting kicked around before then too. “Sounds like something you could have used to help keep your power though, doesn’t it? How would you ever have the entire country rise up against you with it if it's really powerful, even if the Grimoire was a secret legend?”

Edelina shook her head. “The Grimoire cannot be used so. We are bound by blood-oath to never use the Grimoire, which was the instrument of salvation for our people, against those whom we are meant to protect.” She paused. “That is enough for now. I apologize, but even with what little I spoke of, the lust for power may corrupt even the finest man.”

You thought you understood, even if you had no idea how you could. Something made sense. Something you couldn’t explain. “Alright. The rest for later then. So we’ve got a second date?”

“…If you wish to phrase it so.”

“So pushy.” You went around the bench and offered a hand, “Come on, then. Let’s get you back before rumors start flying about, and before my poor captain busts a blood vessel thinking I stole his shitty car.”

“…Lieutenant Colonel?”

“Call me Reinhold.” You let people much less familiar than the two of you do such.

“Thank you, again…” Edelina’s eyes became cold metal, “But do not be too eager to look into certain matters. Your curiosity may not bring happiness. There are those who would do anything just for what I have told you now. Speak of this to nobody, nobody at all.”

-----
December 23, 1933

Two days before Langenachtfest this year. Ysenhof had become busier than ever, as preparations for the holiday became last-minute. So too would yours be- you still hadn’t done your gift shopping, and fashionably late or belated gifts were frowned upon for this holiday, even if it was slightly different in date each year. The morning after the Darkest Day was meant to be the height of the year, after all.

Today was the last responsible day to get gifts. Anything on the eve of the Darkest Night would be well sold out, and the shopkeepers irritable at being made busy just before a holiday where more people stayed at home, or went to parties hosted by friends or, in the case of the poor or the social servants such as the military, state-hosted events. Kaiser Henrik’s republican influences had ever made him sympathetic towards the common folk, especially in trying times of rationing.

…Yet, you were also as of yet unaccounted for when it came to getting a Langenachtfest Date. It’d be easy for you, of course, but you weren’t interested in easy, not anymore. Traditionally, too, you were supposed to be hitched the day before, to spend the whole next day with said sweetheart. So that realistically meant you needed to pick out somebody tomorrow…but let that bridge be crossed when you got to it. For now, you had to…

>…Get that gift shopping done. Not like you had a long list anyways, but few people considered your presence alone to be the pinnacle of the season.
>…To hell with it, you could join the last-minute rush the day of. Go to the Graveyard, spend a relaxing day with old comrades. Get the gloom out of the way, at minimum.
>Other?
The other activity can be taken for the 24th to meet the last encounter, but you’ll have had to pick a date by then, so they’ll be out of the running.

>>6163003
>…Get that gift shopping done. Not like you had a long list anyways, but few people considered your presence alone to be the pinnacle of the season.

>>6163003
>…Get that gift shopping done. Not like you had a long list anyways, but few people considered your presence alone to be the pinnacle of the season.

>>6163003
>…Get that gift shopping done. Not like you had a long list anyways, but few people considered your presence alone to be the pinnacle of the season.

>>6163003
>…Get that gift shopping done. Not like you had a long list anyways, but few people considered your presence alone to be the pinnacle of the season.

>>6163005
>>6163012
>>6163019
>>6163020
Get that shopping done.
I'm calling this vote earlier than other times, but frankly, I think this is an easy early majority.
Updating.

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“Responsible” wasn’t a word most used to describe you. Before the Halmeggia operation, it’d be easy to criticize you of alcoholism getting in the way of officerial duties, but ever since you’d been largely sober. So you had that going for you. You were just being lazy, rather than a drunk, though you’d always thought of yourself as a functional one.

Frau Falkenstein had wanted you to use your ration card to nab up the dwindling stocks of certain rationed goods, to make the Langenachtfest feast special, but you were having trouble securing cinnamon and sugar, much of the spare sweetening having been scrounged up already.

“Psh,” you grumbled to yourself as you exited a store in search of another, hoping for better fortune this time, “I don’t recall the sugarcane going through a blight…” Who knew. With the lack of grain, breweries had lacked for stuff to brew with. Maybe all the sugar was being made into spirits.

The next place at least had butter, but you were starting to give up hope on the foodstuffs, unless you ventured to another country. Get the Luftwaffe High Command to invade somewhere for their Langenachtfest feast. You pondered your bad luck on a bench in the space called Reserve’s Square, a park where reservists once trained for the Emrean War, now long since disused and made into a public plaza, military operations moved out of the city. What to get as gifts, you wondered…a set of new knives for Frau Falkenstein, perhaps. A goblet for her father, to match with the commemoration he had from the Luftwaffe. For Linda…usually she only added testing statements as sleight of hand to what you’d actually get her, but this year, she seemed insistent. Perfume, maybe?

Like that scent you caught, just a hint of it from afar, that seemed so…familiar.

Wait.

It couldn’t be.

Yet you were already on your feet and walking towards something you glimpsed at in the corner of your eye, before you even thought about why. There were no obstructions between you. There was no city, no people, nothing. A normal man might have called out, but you wanted to close, in case she slipped away again. Even as you came closer, you didn’t shout- your jaw was set, with an emotion you weren’t sure of. The closest thing you knew was hunger, despair, despondent need.

You didn’t even see her face yet, but you knew. The black, wavy hair. The way she walked, her slender figure, her elegant legs, her taut behind. That subtle scent she had on those nights, even that same jacket you’d given her, the same sort you wore now.

Her. The mother of your son. The woman who haunted your dreams ever since, who’d told you to never expect to see her again, that you hoped desperately and in vain might appear again. Yet here she was, and you didn’t know what to do next…

…Maybe, you shouldn’t do anything…

>?
You are forbidden from using your vocal cords. Speak with action.

>>6163170
Throw a snowball at her!

>>6163170
>Hand on her shoulder. (We can't do the "Hey." part but you know.)
>Then snowball

>>6163170
Seconding >>6163172

>>6163170
Swing her around!

>>6163170
I agree with snowballing her.

>>6163172
+1

>>6163172
>>6163197
>>6163382
Unleash the inner delinquent.
Like you unleashed a delinquent from inside of her, perhaps.

>>6163249
Phrasing.

>>6163243
Do the Mario

>>6163173
Close Range.

Not what I expected, but eh.
To speed things up for when I get home, let me know where you want to aim.

>>6163401
Get two ready.
One to the ass.
One aimed to the back of her head. If she turns around it'll hit her face. If she doesn't it'll hit the back of her head which is also funny.

>>6163401
Centre of mass (back)

>>6163401
One assball with another one ready to go if she looks like she's pulling out her gun.

>"Calling it magic is crude, and incorrect,"
I beg to differ, magic is BULLSHIT.

We should burn the book.

>>6163401
>>6163415
I meant what I said.
Anyway, I agree on center mass. Going for the head is way too aggressive.

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Winnifred Von Lowenkreuz hadn’t been some swooning romantic. She came across as cold, blunt, and razor-tongued. Yet she had compelled you because of that, rather in spite of that. The back and forth of flirt and jab, of trying to figure her out, and prodding her to try and find cracks in the ice- said cracks not coming out as some shy lady, but a confident, calculating woman that challenged you in every way. When you had slept with each other, it hadn’t been precluded by a confession, but by basically daring each other to get to bed. Owl 3, as she had been called as her code name then, was like no woman you’d ever been with, and she had insisted, from your coupling to your parting, that you were best off considering your time with her a brief fling, at best.

Yet you had spent so, so long thinking back that it was not possible. Now on top of that, this supposedly little, insignificant thing had resulted in the birth of your son. Of the declared heir to the name and house of a noble family.

You had been undeniably fixated on her, but did she ever feel the same? She had said her heart and soul were too dead and cold to feel such a thing. And yet. The thing she had said would be best for you would be to forget her. An impossibility.

She wouldn’t appreciate being embraced, being tilted over and kissed like in a romantic moving picture, where there’d be a music swell and a cut to Das Ende. In your heart, you knew you shouldn’t do something like that. Just letting her go was no option either.

So you went to the snow on the ground of the park. Wet, clumpy stuff, ideal for forming a projectile. Two were made ready. No matter what she had thought, you would be getting her attention now. Surprise, Winnie, it’s time for the reunion you thought wouldn’t happen.

…Her ass was rounder than you remembered it. Some stuffing had gotten into the slender thing.

*Paff*

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A hefty snowball sped into Von Lowenkreuz’s behind and blew apart, scattering snow all over her backside and thigh. Another was ready, but her head had already snapped around when your arm was raised- and slinging the ball for her face wasn’t something you could do.

“Brazen delinquents…” She said scornfully to herself, quietly, but a deep blue eye fixated on you, and stared. “Oh.” A completely blank and unbothered greeting that would have taken you aback if you weren’t distracted by seeing Winnifred Von Lowenkreuz’s face once more. Oh, like you had only seen each other a day ago. Like she hadn’t carried your son, gave birth to him. “Your method of flirtation has hardly changed, has it.”

Winnifred stared still, as she turned the rest of her body to face you. She’d exited motherhood very intact, it seemed. Slender as ever, even if the Luftpanzer jacket hung loose on her, being sized for you and not this skinny lady. She showed little emotion as ever, no happiness, no annoyance, but you saw just a hint of something, so small yet so much, when she looked you up and down, analytically, and let out a small sigh, a puff of warm air into the chilly winter- an involuntary admission of nostalgia.

She was waiting. Naught to say, until you broke your own silence.

>Hit on her. If she was going to talk like it’d been only a few days, you’d shoot back with the same. Why she was here wasn’t important, you were just happy for it without need for explanation.
>No reason not to be direct. Why was she here? She could hardly pretend this was an accident…and you were in a mind for answers these days, rather than just letting things pass.
>She forgot something at the Falkensteins. Point that out right off. Little else mattered at this point.
>Other?

>>6163737
>Other
Wrap her into a hug

>>6163737
>Other: "I'm happy to see you."
>No reason not to be direct. Why was she here? She could hardly pretend this was an accident…and you were in a mind for answers these days, rather than just letting things pass.

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>>6163737
>Gif related
>Merry Langenachtfest

>>6163738
+1

>>6163737
>Brush her hair back, I want to see those peepers
>No reason not to be direct. Why was she here? She could hardly pretend this was an accident…and you were in a mind for answers these days, rather than just letting things pass.
Thought we had seen the last of you Winnie. When you said you were leaving for good I believed it, but here you are.

>>6163737
>No reason not to be direct. Why was she here? She could hardly pretend this was an accident…and you were in a mind for answers these days, rather than just letting things pass.

>>6163738
But this first.

>>6163738
>>6163744
>>6163801
Take hold of her, so she can't slip away again.

>>6163743
sonic06guard.wav

>>6163795
Establish vital fashion statement.

>>6163742
>>6163801
>>6163795
Now why are you here.

Updating!

>>6163743
For as much as I dislike Owl3, I would still never call her a coalburning tranny, wow.

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The first thing spoken was still not quite words, as you spread your arms and threw them around Winnifred, drawing her in tight against your chest. She didn’t return the embrace- but she didn’t try to avoid or escape it either. One thing did have to be fixed about her look- you pushed her bangs aside with a hand, revealing her odd eye, a warm and deep umber rather than its sister’s ocean-glow. Much better.

“I thought I’d seen the last of you,” you said, admiring your handiwork, as well as that of Von Lowenkreuz’s blood, “When you said I wouldn’t see you again, I believed it, but here you are.”

“Happenstance has made a liar of me.” Winnifred admitted in a resigned lamentation, “It would’ve been better if it hadn’t. Little has changed from before.”

Everything had changed, though. “Then why are you here? This surely isn’t an accident, I’m smart enough to know that.” Your hand went in a circle between her shoulder blades. “This jacket. This city. This day, to just find you on the street.” She’d made some modifications to the jacket you’d given her off your back, but it was still the same one. “I’ve learned to seek more answers, honey. I can’t let things pass by without a care so easily no more.”

“Sentiment.” A single word explanation.

“Not all for one thing, yeah?”

“The idea of my son’s first Langenachtfest passing without a gift from his mother felt…wrong.”

“Our son,” you corrected, stroking Winnifred’s cheek, other arm still taut round her.

The odd-eyed lady’s stare turned pitying. “I did not ask if you wanted to sire my heir,” she said, voice still level, its familiar dry countenance enduring. “You need not claim him and bind yourself to me. As I said. Little has changed. I’m not going to linger here. My leave of absence expires in days, and the Reich expects me to resume my services. Not as a mother.”

“So then you’ll disappear again, and I’ll never see you again, until the next year?” You teased, “You know that’s not how it works now, babe. Either you or the Judge have got different plans.”

The resigned look began to sink with the slight annoyance of somebody who remembered just what she was working with. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“You’ll at least spend today with me, won’t you?” You let her go, carefully, as though she might scurry off like a squirrel despite you knowing better, a finger tucking her bangs behind her ear. “If we both have to buy gifts?”

“…I can’t think of a reason why not,” Winnifred allowed, “It would be a good change of pace from the last time we went out. Much fewer enemy soldiers of utopia, no western machinations to weave through.”

Too bad that she was of a disgraced house. You were for certain much more wealthy than her, but if she asked you to open your wallet for her wish, you doubted you could turn her down.

>Ask/Talk about anything?
Also-
>What Langenachtfest presents do you want to get? (Only have to write in for who you feel like)
>Do other things?

>>6164235
>Ask/Talk about anything?
Ask how she's doing. Has work taken her anywhere fun recently? Ask if she's seen the boy yet. Ask if she'd want to.

>What Langenachtfest presents do you want to get? (Only have to write in for who you feel like)
Linda and the other Falkensteins of course. Something for the boy, and Winnifred too while we're at it. Something for Covacs and the rest of Rein's Crew. And maybe something for Edelina too.

>>6164236
>Ask/Talk about anything?
Why does she have to go? I can guess at the basics but a more whole explanation would be nice. If she wants to write Eike some kind of letter too just to explain things for the kid when he is older we could keep that for him as well.
>What Langenachtfest presents do you want to get?
Get a toy plane for Eike, kids love aviation right?

>>6164235
>Ask/Talk about anything?

Ask her if she's heard any scuttlebutt about Edelina's return to Halmeggia. I'm sure she's heard about our Mittlesosalian adventure but we can regale her a bit about it.

Couple of serious matters regarding the kid:
Also any requests for the boy as he grows up, custody wise? She may not be able to be around but as the mother she should still have a say in his major life decisions.
If he asks when he's older why he was left behind/where's mother is there anything you want to say to him indirectly through Reinhold?

>What Langenachtfest presents do you want to get? (Only have to write in for who you feel like)
>>6164257, with the addendum that the kid's gift should be from both parents. IIRC we needed to get more milk formula and whatnot, so two people's ration cards should be able to stretch things out even further.

>>6164263
Supporting.

>>6164257
>>6164262
>>6164263
>>6164277
The subjects of work and travel for both of you. Your kid's future. Light subjects.
I'm updating, but in the meantime, it's time for the most important vote of the thread.

Christmas Special Art:

>Maddy
>Not Maddy

No need to write in who, we decide that next update anyways.

>>6164404
>Maddy
It's a tradition at this point, why change it now?

>>6164404
>>Not Maddy

>>6164404
>Maddy
It's always Maddy. I like the cuter, non-Maddy supplementary Christmas art too but it is tradition.

>>6164404
>Maddy

>>6164404
>Maddy
If she had a hat what would it be?

>>6164404
Mother Maddy

>>6164404
>Maddy

>>6164404
>>Not Maddy
Sorry but Poltergeist is the only girl for me

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The two of you spoke as you headed towards the markets on the north side of the city- less food, more trinkets and keepsakes, souvenirs for any visitors, a place to find some mossheads if you felt like it. Ysenhof was pretty close to a big clump of them in the mountains that separated the west and east of the Reich.

“So how’ve you been doing?” You asked, not expecting a deep answer, given that Winnifred was a spook, a spy, the sort of person who would normally not actually say they had the job they did unless you knew well enough what they did anyways. “Work take you someplace fun again?”

Winnifred knew it was a joke, but she didn’t respect it enough to react. “The Imperial Intelligence Network may be callous, but not completely senseless. I was placed in analysis and recording in Zeissenburg for the duration of my pregnancy. Now that I’ve been given my recovery period, they’ll send me back out. There’s more need for field agents than ever now, especially ones considered disposable.”

“Sounds dull.”

“Office work is unexciting,” Winnifred agreed, “That combined with the trials of pregnancy were not fun, but I refused to terminate the pregnancy, so I was given no relief. I would do it ten times over for my son, regardless.”

While the two of you weren’t surrounded by people yet, you could bring up the other question. “Can you say where you’re heading out?”

“No. Nor why.” Despite you both being alone, even though you wouldn’t dare blab. “It is west, however, and the west will become very, very important soon. For several reasons, both for the Kaiser, the Reich, as well as perhaps even my own ambitions, should I find that I can advance them like I believe I can…but either way, I do have no choice.”

“That’s a shame.”

Winnifred gave you a weary look, but didn’t respond to that comment.

The first place you hit up was a toy store, somehow still stocked, perhaps because in spite of rationing, the materials to make toys with were in no small supply. The Reich was nothing if not resource rich, and you couldn’t think of what it didn’t have buried in the ground be it metals, coal, or oil.

“What do you think?” You showed Winnifred a blocky wooden plane toy, suitable for a baby with a turning propeller, bright red like his foster mother flew. “Or is it a little too direct?”

“Roth-Vogel,” Winnifred thought about your sentiment, as she took the toy plane from your hands, “You’ve a fixation on aircraft, don’t you.”

“Both his parents have bird names. You were an Owl when he was conceived. But do you think it might look like a clue?”

“Clue?” Winnifred glanced at you with a glint of humor, “Reinhold, they know. Trust me.”

“Sheesh,” you scratched the back of your head and grimaced, “You sure? They haven’t said anything.”

“Absolutely sure.”

“Shoot.” Winnifred picked up a stuffed lion toy, turned it over, and put it back. “Come on now, they know the other side of his lineage just as well. I didn’t leave any notes.” That convinced her enough to pick it up again. “Should be from both his parents though, don’t you think?”

“So long as you want to be recognized as such,” Winnifred said, looking into the lion’s inset glass eyes, “I have made my feelings on that clear already, but I can't control a paratrooper’s spirit.”

>Maybe she was right. What good would it do if you acted as his father, rather than letting the Falkensteins handle it? They were better role models anyways.
>You helped to make him, like it or not. You wouldn’t flee from this responsibility. No more of this game- Eike would know who his father was, and so would everybody else.
>Other?

If you want to get something specific for anybody else you gotta at least tell me what the idea behind it is even if it's not specific

>>6164405
>>6164419
>>6164430
>>6164435
>>6164479
Maddy

>>6164407
>>6164558
Not Maddy.

So it goes.
As a follow up, give me a rating for how saucy you want her outfit to be for it from 1-5, from least to most scandalous.

>>6164435
>If she had a hat what would it be?
Paper Crown

>>6164620

You helped to make him, like it or not. You wouldn’t flee from this responsibility. No more of this game- Eike would know who his father was, and so would everybody else.

He might have been an unplanned surprise but there's no shame in him being brought into the world.

>>6164622
Let the dice decide

Rolled 5 (1d5)

>>6164635

>>6164639
Dear god

>>6164620
>You helped to make him, like it or not. You wouldn’t flee from this responsibility. No more of this game- Eike would know who his father was, and so would everybody else.
We'll make it up to the Falkensteins by putting a baby in Linda next.

>>6164620
>You helped to make him, like it or not. You wouldn’t flee from this responsibility. No more of this game- Eike would know who his father was, and so would everybody else.

Merry Christmas everybody, to be xlear, I won't be updating today. Spend Christmas however you do-today's going to be as busy as it is celebratory for me, most likely.

>>6164620
>You helped to make him, like it or not. You wouldn’t flee from this responsibility. No more of this game- Eike would know who his father was, and so would everybody else.
"I am your father" type shit.

>>6164622
>Rating 5

>>6164620
>You helped to make him, like it or not. You wouldn’t flee from this responsibility. No more of this game- Eike would know who his father was, and so would everybody else
We are not some deadbeat loser, we are THE Reinhold Voth-Rogel. Ask Winnifred to stay with us for the day.

Get Linda some cozy winter sweater alongside whatever other anons suggest.

>>6164639
Judge above.

>>6158595
>Linda blinked at you. “Why not? Food’s not so easy to come by, Reinhold, for babies, either. There’s already a demand for more mother’s milk than wet nurses can provide. It’s a good example anyways.”
We better suck on her tits someday

File: maddychristmas2024.png (3.28 MB, 1359x1800)

3.28 MB PNG

>>6164635
>>6164658
>>6164674
>>6164717
>>6164746
You're gonna carry that weight.

In the meantime, order's up- Langenachtfest Maddy, sauciness rating maximum.
Or at least as much as a blue board can go.

>>6165050
WE'RE HEADING TO BANTOWN WITH THIS ONE LADS

>>6165050
Great job, Tanq.
Seems like 1934 is going to be one hell of a year. Her stomach really snapped back after the pregnancy.

I'll have to delay another day, sorry people. Post Christmas seems to have wiped me out enough that I've managed to sleep the entire day except for the part where I have time to get ready for work and little else.

Sorry for the delay, it's almost out, hang tight.

Happy holidays everyone
>>6165050
Oh god I haven't finished reading the main quest yet but I still wanted to open this thread and wish you guys happy holidays, and this is the first thing I see.
10/10 best christmas gift ever
>>6165154
So Richter finally gets her pregnant? Time to get out of here before I encounter more spoilers.
Best quests ever keep it up tanq.

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“I do want to be called his father,” you said to Winnifred, “Whether or like it or not, I helped make him. Maybe I didn’t intend for him to come around, but I’m not ashamed of it, and he won’t be either. Everybody will know that Eike, whatever name he chooses, is Reinhold Roth-Vogel’s son.”

That was a pretty macho declaration, you thought, but Von Lowenkreuz just stared, half-lidded, and breathed a small sigh, naught but a lowering of her shoulders. “We’ll see if that’s wise.”

You had more to ask the mother of your firstborn son. “If you want me to keep a letter for him, anything more than the one you left already, I’ll hold onto it. The one you left with the medallion is pretty brief.”

“I have given him everything that I have of worth as is.” She said flatly, “My name, and the best family that will take him in. Eike lives because I wished to defy the fate decided for myself and my family. If he wishes to take his name and build our house anew, then it would make me…glad. But I didn’t birth him to be bound. A mother who cannot take care of her only child has no place deciding his life. That’d be the antithesis of why he was even brought into the world.”

Hold on a second. “Hey, so I don’t want to presume, but I sort of figured he was an…accident?”

Winnifred blinked at you. “I don’t see what part of his creation was accidental. Did you think I didn’t consider the possibility that you would get me pregnant?”

Well, you hadn’t intended to knock her up, but you did blow your load inside of her without hesitation, not considering it when she didn’t insist on protection, and it was a mind eraser of a nut to be sure. That implied that she had chosen you, though…should you be flattered? It was a confusing feeling.

You went on to other gift shops, though you were the one doing most of the picking. You wanted to get something for Edelina, but couldn’t think of what you could possibly get a queen that wouldn’t be outshone by the obligatory gifts of state that were sure to come. Probably nothing you could buy from a store though. Maybe the Grimoire counted enough as a present.

Her on the mind, you brought up that news to Winnifred while on a quieter path. “I hear that the Queen of Halmeggia is finally returning to her country. Already been crowned, but she’ll need a second coronation once she returns. You know anything about that?”

“Nothing secret,” Winnifred said disinterestedly, “You may know already. My section has not been working on Halmeggian affairs. I do know that the Kaiser is taking her majesty Halm-Auric’s security extremely seriously. A new royal guard assigned to her, the 2nd Panzer Division, the 1st Kaisermarine Division, the IV Fliegerkorps and their land guard component, as well as the ZbV 134 Armor Battalion. The Halmeggian Expeditionary Corps as it’s called.”

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“The 2nd Panzer, huh,” you raised an eyebrow. They were an elite, experienced unit, famous for their key participation in the Battle of Tillhu Pass during the Felbach War, their commanders then veterans of the same unit’s battle of Karadenstohn in the Emrean War. The same opponents too, a “volunteer” Emrean tank unit that got its clock cleaned. The whole deal was something of a legend amongst Reich tankers, even if the best of best of 2nd Panzer had now been redistributed to training and teaching units rather than being kept on the front lines. “Doesn’t get much better. Those guys have the new, top of the line stuff. Guess the protectorates can’t keep it all from coming now that there’s plenty of time for it to sail round.”

“Indeed. Though I did do quite a lot of work concerning another past expedition from the ZbV 134,” Winnifred gave you a coy, knowing look, “The same backstory as now. A group of mercenaries hailing from the Reich, but then calling themselves the Griffon Battalion?”

You shrugged. “It was supposed to only be Griffon Company, but I guess I can’t help a reputation for exceeding what’s asked of me. You want to hear about it from my point of view?”

“Do tell,” Winnifred said, still looking cutely confident, “I’ll see where you exaggerate and check you.”

Truth be told, the Griffon Battalion command had been a headache, and not much of a glorious job. Besides your core officers that had been picked up from the then-defunct Luftpanzer Company, practically all of the Griffon Battalion’s tankers and troopers were new, barely out of training, picked out for their adventurous spirit and lack of self-preservation. The tanks were the opposite, exclusively older model mediums and lights of the Kpz-24D and Lpz-24 varieties that were merely equivalent at best to the enemy you were fighting, with the Netillians’ brigand-mercenary allies being made up of the better ones, the less well-equipped ones being the Mittelsosalians’ inheritance.

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Much of your command was spent keeping your fresh young troops out of meat grinders, yanking on their reigns when they felt too bold, and making absolutely no friends amongst your allies as you refused to waste your mens’ lives in whatever scheme they had to try and wrest advantages or cause distraction. It was considered meritorious by the Grossreich, though- the service had given you your Bronze Crest medal in recognition of competent and valiant leadership.

“Funny,” Winnifred said drily when you trailed off at the end, “I thought you might exaggerate at least one thing. Are you not proud of the unit you forged in fire, and kept preserved? Its casualty rates were notably low. All those reading the analyses were extremely impressed by that.”

Hah. Did you have a good word being put in by an analyst for you there, you wondered. “I’m a Luftwaffe man. The Imperial Army just isn’t my style.”

Did Winnifred have a hint of a prideful smile there? It faded before you could be sure. “You did leave your mark, though. Come now. I know the name it earned as well as you do. Speak it. Just as much of Griffon Battalion is still under your command as did remain in their capacity as a special purpose expedition capability. Your influence is spread over two units now.”

>Your mark was the tactical style of hit and run and harassment, like burglars smashing up a place and running off, rather than what one might expect of a Panzer Battalion. The Panzer Bandits, your unit was referred to derisively.
>The operation in Halmeggia had influenced your conduct in Mittelsosalia. You were never where you were wanted, but also never expected, by your allies or enemies. Only taking battles where you could appear without warning, you were referred to as, either out of dread or disrespect, the Kaiser’s Crows.
>Focusing on being as big a pain in the neck as possible while using your speed and firepower to keep from getting trapped, the Griffon Battalion under you pushed itself in the way of attacks that were not too well supported and would conduct fighting retreats that exhausted and frustrated the enemy, as well as your allies who expected you to hold the line. This gave your unit the moniker of “Dust Ghosts.”
>Other? (You were not commanding elites nor directing them in ways that would be called heroic rather than keeping them alive and intact- keep in mind that few would sing songs of your unit in its theming)

>>6166259
>The operation in Halmeggia had influenced your conduct in Mittelsosalia. You were never where you were wanted, but also never expected, by your allies or enemies. Only taking battles where you could appear without warning, you were referred to as, either out of dread or disrespect, the Kaiser’s Crows.

>>6166259
>The operation in Halmeggia had influenced your conduct in Mittelsosalia. You were never where you were wanted, but also never expected, by your allies or enemies. Only taking battles where you could appear without warning, you were referred to as, either out of dread or disrespect, the Kaiser’s Crows.

>>6166259
>>The operation in Halmeggia had influenced your conduct in Mittelsosalia. You were never where you were wanted, but also never expected, by your allies or enemies. Only taking battles where you could appear without warning, you were referred to as, either out of dread or disrespect, the Kaiser’s Crows.

>>6166255
>>6166258
>>6166259
Also nice act tanq, I especially like the unit profiles.

>>6166259
>The operation in Halmeggia had influenced your conduct in Mittelsosalia. You were never where you were wanted, but also never expected, by your allies or enemies. Only taking battles where you could appear without warning, you were referred to as, either out of dread or disrespect, the Kaiser’s Crows.

>>6166259
>The operation in Halmeggia had influenced your conduct in Mittelsosalia. You were never where you were wanted, but also never expected, by your allies or enemies. Only taking battles where you could appear without warning, you were referred to as, either out of dread or disrespect, the Kaiser’s Crows.

>>6166259
>Focusing on being as big a pain in the neck as possible while using your speed and firepower to keep from getting trapped, the Griffon Battalion under you pushed itself in the way of attacks that were not too well supported and would conduct fighting retreats that exhausted and frustrated the enemy, as well as your allies who expected you to hold the line. This gave your unit the moniker of “Dust Ghosts.”
>Von Lowenkreuz just stared, half-lidded, and breathed a small sigh, naught but a lowering of her shoulders. “We’ll see if that’s wise.”
I get where Winifred is coming from I think. It's not a great look to have a bastard out of wedlock no matter which way you cut it, but it feels cruel to basically orphan the kid especially when both of his parents are still alive. She must think there is some benefit too of naming him as a Von Lowenkreuz, or at least some sentiment there, so its not like she is keeping her head down compeltely either.

>>6166478
Can fix that by heading over to the church right now

>>6166267
>>6166268
>>6166279
>>6166299
>>6166321
Call yourself a party crasher, but that's just what people call somebody who's always the star of the show.

>>6166478
Nothing quite angers an enemy like being made to wade through marbles and lego.

Updating.

>>6166241
>I still wanted to open this thread and wish you guys happy holidays, and this is the first thing I see.
It turned out there was an oddly specific spoiler huh.
Good luck on your thankless journey to read my work.

>>6166287
Thanks- even if it's not the focus, I figure that extra context isn't usually unwelcome. Useful for the future too.

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Nobody appreciated your tactics in Mittelsosalia. Not the common trooper in the Griffon Battalion, not the Republic, nor their Ellowian allies, but neither did the enemy you fought. If your enemy dreaded you, it didn’t matter if your allies sneered in disrespect. After all, the Kaiser’s Crows, like it or not, didn’t lose, and were never surprised. The Armored Recon company was put through the wringer, and oftentimes one of the Panzer companies found themselves playing scout as well. Your own higher command didn’t argue with the results.

“I’m sure that neither my old boys or the Luftpanzer Demi-Battalion want to be called the Kaiser’s Crows, though,” you commented to Winnifred with a shrug and a splaying of palms, “I’ll take credit for never losing though. Just not a name to boast about to the ladies.”

Winnifred raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. “You share company with ladies?”

“Aw, don’t sell yourself short.” You weren’t going to tell your kid that she was anything but. “…Y’know, Eike’s gonna know everything there is to know about his dad. You sure you don’t want me to tell him anything more? Guide him some way. A mother deserves that.”

Winnifred didn’t need to think about it. “You know how to be a proper role model to a boy, Reinhold. A pure heart will serve him best.”

Pure heart. Ha. Well, you’d become less fun this past year, according to the worst influences. Maybe she had a point. “You can come see him. I’ll bring him over. Would you like that?”

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A small chip appeared in the stone façade of Winnifred’s vague expression. “I would…however, it would not be for the best. I am no less confident in my choices than I was when I made them.”

No convincing a girl so set, especially not a brainy one. “You’ll stick around with me for the day at least, won’t you?”

Winnifred gave you a reprise of that pitying gaze you’d received a few times before. “I feel that I’m hurting you by doing so…but fine.”

She didn’t say what it was, but the implication that she’d rather be with you today than not was plenty enough.

-----

Exiting the markets, you’d found a good warm sweater for Linda. Much as she might try to deny it, you knew she still got cold, especially when you were around.

“It’s not that interesting,” you told Winnifred, “But she’ll like whatever I give her. Not like her tits are so easy to hide even under a sweater. Just have to convince her to put ‘em away before she catches cold.”

“Hm.” Winnifred took the sweater from your bag and examined it. “I see you took my advice on the wool knit.”

“How could I not?” You’d ask her to try it on, but Winnifred was a scrawny woman, and it’d just hang loose. Maybe not in a bad way.

“And you said she’s found herself Mother’s Joy,” she mused further, “It’s more of an investment than you might assume. Old wives don’t make much mention of the side effects.”

“Nah. But she’s insistent. Oh, reminds me,” you checked your bags again, “Shoot, forgot milk formula. Don’t mind me using your ration card for that, do you? He’s inherited his pop and grandpap’s appetites, that’s for damn sure.”

“I don’t mind. However…I have been donating,” Winnifred said hesitantly.

“Huh?” You realized what she meant after a second. “Oh, you’re still producing?”

“Mm. I had no excuse to stop early, with the present need.” She glanced at her chest, then at you. “I can give what I have over to you. It would save some of your rationing allowance.”

Her breasts didn’t seem bigger, but if they were doing their work, you wouldn’t question it. Besides, smaller ones had their own appeal. You thought the subject of tit size to be of apples and oranges and the whole farmer’s market, rather than something so basic as comparing the size of melons.

Winnifred knew you were both going to your apartment before you even brought it up.

“Funny that you know,” you teased her.

“I know many things. And when you’re in the positions I’m in, there’s a joy in knowing what you shouldn’t.”

Naughty girl.