“Oh, definitely the latter. People with influence but not the right to make the decisions officially, you know?” The Captain studied the woman’s eyes, dark, green, cold. “You know, I can’t help but feel I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“Considering the company you keep, I’m of the mind to consider that an insult.” The woman said tonelessly, “Your mission, as far as you understood it. From your superiors, or yourself?”

“Both.”

“What was it?”

“For myself, to bring the world further towards a state of unity by challenging the dominance of the Heretic. For my masters, I suppose, the same, though in less poetic terms and more ones of realpolitik.”

“And does Twaryi know of this mission, or do they merely act in concert with Caelus?” the woman pressed.

“The Twaryian picture of the world is rather small,” the Captain sighed, cocking his head slightly, “They have to be coaxed forth to think larger than the short term. They lack a certain perspective. For example, the Archduchy, that is where you must be from, yes? Strossvald is a name on a map to most Twaryians. They can scarcely fathom they’ve come as far as they have now, for all their talk.”

No direct response to that either. What a tough customer this woman was, the Captain thought. Unwilling to indulge him at all. Only the slightest put down of his character from her. She wouldn’t give him the in he wanted. He thought that keeping a loose tone, avoiding deception, would lower her guard- but she hadn’t loosened at all. What a pain.

“That’s all then.” The tall woman said with a huff, “Somebody else will come in for other things. Enjoy your cell, you’ll be moved eventually.”

“Done chatting already?” the captain feigned disappointment, “And here I was hoping we were leading up. Hey, can you call a girl here, then, if you’re going? I’ve spoiled myself, used to being able to get one whenever I’ve got the time and coin, you know.”

The woman ignored him, and left him be in the room, unacknowledged.

-----

…Was it morning, or night, you wondered as you woke again. Going to bed midday, you’d expect to be up early, but you were so tired when you had hit the hay, no result would have surprised you. The pale light trickling in through shuttered windows quickly indicated sunrise when you opened your eyes proper, and stretched. Where was the pain? You were terribly wounded, after all. Or was that merely a dream? More to the point, were you fortunate enough to have dreamed the past weeks? A look at your wounded right hand- no, the middle and pointer fingers still ended early, just past what was once but the first set of knuckles. The hand’s wound as well as the ends of the fingers were tightly bound. That you weren’t feeling the pain, you realized as you recognized the dizzy feeling in your head, must have been because of morphine, or something else, duteously given to you as you recovered.

Your unhurt hand touched your face, unconsciously. A demand from yourself unheard but still recognized, to check and see if what had happened to your face might have been a dream. No. Dressings touched your fingers back, cool to the touch- you’d be able to remove them now, whatever was left of the Flayer substance pulled out, neutralized, while whatever medicine had been applied had been given time to save what tissue could be helped. Very minor aid, at best. There was a reason Flayer Gas was so vile a weapon, but at the very least, Bertram hadn’t tried to dump it down your throat, else you would have certainly died.

Richter Von Tracht would have to get up at some point, you thought to yourself, but instead of conceding to that, you settled back into the scratchy sheets. You’d been lucky to survive- at the same time, though, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d gotten what you deserved, or if you’d escaped with less than that too.

With both Gerovic and Bertram dealt with, the direct threats to your person had dissipated. The only people left in the border zone now were either allies of convenience, or potential allies, or big players in the game going on in eastern Sosalia, whom you were beneath the notice of so long as you didn’t do anything outstanding and brazen. Not that you wanted to pick any new fights, anyways, with only two of your tanks in battle ready condition, to say nothing of available commanders. With the Fear having calmed some, for the first time in a while, you felt…at ease. Why get up at all, and deny yourself that?

Your eyes closed again…but you didn’t drift off. There was a strange, tinny whistling noise. Breathing? Eyes open again, you rubbed your face and properly sat up to look around. Oh. You looked to your left, and there was the source of the noise. Anya’s breath sounded strange when she was asleep- maybe it was because of the damage to her nose before, but since it had been broken recently, that couldn’t have done any favors for it either. The dusty-blonde haired retinue was seated in a chair, leaning sideways and into your bed off of it, a blanket draped around her shoulders. You’d neglected to see her after you came back, and she was probably annoyed by that- hence why she was now sitting here, even though her vigil had turned into a slumber. Anya couldn’t walk on her own without difficulty, last you checked, let alone drag a chair into a closed room. Presumably she had help, the same help that had covered her with a blanket after she dozed off.

Even with only her face visible, she was almost as messed up as you were. It was funny, both of you in what somebody might wander into and assume was shelter for the seriously wounded rather than merely your personal quarters. Since Gerovic’s last raid had ruined the old camp, your new camp was within and outside of the UGZ-09. The “Council” of the UGZ was grateful for your unit’s contributions, and sympathetic to the soldiers that made up half its ranks now- and had donated a small apartment building for your use. It wasn’t big enough for everybody, so it was reserved for the officers and staff- and the walking wounded. Such as yourself, in both former and latter cases.

…Ah, you did have a meeting today, at some point. Best to get up, but you had time. You’d think about how to start your day as you did your morning wash up, and finally gave your new face a look in the mirror…

>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.
>The National Liberation Front was the next big concern, even if they weren’t a danger to you. They’d be the first thing to take care of, as far as meetings today went.
>Your unit needed to be minded after, and today was the day for Requisition paperwork to be done. You ought to get that done.
>Other?

>>4320542
>>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.
Then the NLF meeting and finally the RP spending

>>4320542
>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.

>>4320542
>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.
Get this over with first

>>4320542
>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.

>>4320542
>>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.
This is one loyal creampuff.

>>4320542
>>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.

>>4320542
>Wake up Anya. She was right there waiting, after all. Best not to try and just sneak out around her.
Take our lumps early

I didn't intend to let this hang so long but oh well, good to try and fix the old sleep schedule a little.
>>4320553
>>4320561
>>4320595
>>4320764
>>4320846
>>4320962
>>4321006
Attend to the fellow scrap pile in the room.
Writing.

Without getting up from bed, you scooted forward and reached out for Anya’s head. Should you shake her shoulder? No, you might hurt her that way. She might have disliked being pet, but it was the best you could think of at the moment without making a racket. It was a rough tousle, a scratch, and Anya’s funny sleep breathing snuffled in reaction. Her eyes squeezed tight, and with a yawn, she straightened her back on the chair again, peeking groggily from side to side, before she rested her eyes on you.

“…Mornin’.” She said flatly, her eyes half closed in a sleepy stare. “How’d you do, huh.”

“…I’m here, aren’t I?” you coughed.

Her eyes remained fixed on the right side of your face. “…How bad is it?” She raised a hand from under the blanket to point.

“Bad.” No reason to lie, she’d see how bad it was in time. Flayer wounds weren’t the sort that got any prettier over time. You pulled your hand from under the covers. “He got a couple of my fingers.” You showed Anya your right hand, and you saw her jaw suddenly set and an eyebrow twitch. “Then he got some flayer gas from…judge Above knows where, and he poured it on my face, here.”

“Scum.” Anya’s lip curled, “You got him? He’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” A pause. “How? It sounds like he was about ready to dump you in a shallow grave.”

“…I had help.” You said evasively, “A couple of people from Strossvald. They helped me out a lot, but he also wasn’t ready for me to still be putting up a fight.” You glanced down again. “…Sorry. I got hurt a lot worse than I thought I would. You’re probably furious…”

Anya frowned, and took the blanket over her the rest of the way off. Her dress hadn’t changed since you’d last met, and she pushed herself to her feet, propping herself on the chair until she stood. “Yeah. You’re retarded, but, look.” She beckoned with a finger, “Move up some. No, more. Little more.” Once you were even with her, she took you by the shoulders, raised her slung arm over you, and hugged your head into her chest. “I’m mad, but I’m real, real happy that you made it back. That y’didn’t break your promise. It’s alright, okay?”

You didn’t saw anything. Just accepted the comfort you were given. Leaned into Anya’s bosom, closed your eyes, and didn’t worry about anything else for a few minutes.

“Alright, get your face outta my tits.”

…There it was. You ducked out of Anya’s suddenly ceased embrace and snapped your head to the wall sorely. “Feh. I’m not the one who put it there.”

“So, you gonna sleep all day again?” Anya rounded the chair and leaned on the backrest, “Unless you’ve got more pieces of shit coming after you.”

“I have a meeting today, with the NLF,” you put your legs off the bed, “I’m plenty rested. Just not looking so good.”

“Gonna see them with bandages all over your face?” Ironic, considering what Anya’s face looked like.

“No,” you got up, going around the chair Anya had been sleeping in, and now leaned on, “These come off today. I’m about to see what my new face looks like…probably awful.”

“The other side’s fine, at least.” Anya said, a murky spite in her tone. “Who knows. Maybe when you take the stuff off you’ll look better, huh?” A lazy wave towards her own face.

You did your best to smile ever so slightly. “…I’ve had worse, it’s true. One time, some wild animal popped my arm right out of its socket.” Anya’s stomach growled fiercely before she could respond. “…Do you want me to get you something?”

Anya’s lean on the chair had grown heavier and heavier, until she stumbled around and collapsed onto your bed, propping her back against the wall. A scowl as she looked down at her torso. “…Yeah. I’d appreciate it. One more day, I think, and I’ll be good again. I don’t want to head back out until I’ve got my boots back on and I can march all the way to Kamienisty and back.”

Some energy at least. It was enough to keep you from dipping straight back into depression as you went to the washroom to take off the bandages, and wash away the ointment applied when you’d first been treated by the Intelligence Office doctor. The UGZ having running water might have been an oddity were it not for the plain fact that it was built atop a settlement in the first place- that, and it was a far cry from having to fetch the water from a pump or water wagon.

You peeled away the bandages, and turning on the faucet, splashed water onto your face with your left hand, onto the numbness where the burns were. Black slime dripped off your face and slid down the drain, and you fervently washed your face until, finally, the stuff coming away was but some dark dusty particles rather than pure black ichor.

File: tcqscene163.png (277 KB, 607x800)

277 KB PNG

It was…not a pretty sight, you thought as you put your eyepatch back on and stared into the mirror. You held up your right hand as well, compared the injuries you’d recently received. It…could have been worse, yes. That didn’t make it any better. At least it didn’t hurt, let alone anywhere near the screaming, mindless agony that had electrified your body when the Flayer was first poured on you.

>This was a better match of a face for you anyways. It wasn’t that bad. Was a terrible scar not something better earned than a handsome face?
>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.
>Other?

>>4321638
We don't deserve Anya.
Btw. did we send a letter of complaint to the King regarding the Duchess' behavior?

>>4321641
>Other: decide what combination of hairstyle, headwear and maybe a mask will make us look like an anime character the coolest

>>4321641
>>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.

>>4321641
>>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.
Should probably discuss with Metzeler finding prosthetics as well for the fingers.

>>4321652
>Btw. did we send a letter of complaint to the King regarding the Duchess' behavior?
Not yet. Its intent has been declared- the nature of complaint, however, is one of the things necessary to construct once the letter is being made. You certainly have cleared up any other priorities!

>>4321641
>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.

>>4321641
>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.
Time to be A CHAR

>>4321641
>>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.
Initially I wanted to show off our new face as a badge of combat or w/e, but
>>4321754
convinced me that we need to be Char now.

>>4321641
Is Richter left or right handed tanq?

God even with half his face melted off he's pretty enough to be in a boy band.
Probably with a mask he'd be the mysterious one.

>>4321641
>>You needed a mask, or half of one. This was something that you needed to hide- it was hideous. This couldn’t be how you showed yourself to the world.
While I personally would like to wear the burns as a badge of honor, the mask seems like the way the wind is blowing right now. I would want to know what style of mask we would be going for would be though. An idea I had would be a compromise of wearing the mask but not having it try to be a recreation of a normal face, but instead feature stylized versions or Richter’s scars and burns. Sure the burns are severe and it could be disadvantageous to walk around with them in polite company, but I don’t think they so horrific as to worry about no one ever even being allowed to see them. The didn’t turn Richter into some freak abomination, they just might be better off being presented in a less overt manner.

>>4321652
Combo it up.

>>4321658
>>4321663
>>4321745
>>4321844
Get a mask to hide that cruddy face.

>>4321754
>>4321760
Then paint your tank red.

Writing.

>>4321842
>Is Richter left or right handed tanq?
His right hand was his preferred hand. Guess it's time to practice with the left, isn't it?
>Probably with a mask he'd be the mysterious one.
You're strapped for potential guitarists/bassists at the moment.

>>4321908
I wonder how much the gas burns will fuck with Richter's eye flesh healing.
We went on a whole sidequest to get that shit fixed.

This wouldn’t do, you thought with a deep and silent sigh, shoulders slacking as you stared into the ragged leather that made up half your face. It’d have to be covered, at least, in polite company. A mask would work, but what sort? Fully over the face? Half open? Over the eyes? Would a full mask be too suspicious looking? You’d have time to think about it, but you certainly wouldn’t be able to find anything ideal in the short term anyways. Maybe you could squeeze the Intelligence Office to provide something exactly to specification. Maybe you could ask for the same from just about any of the powerful figures you presently knew.

…It’d be rather awkward to visit the High Protector like this. The NLF, too, as you were suddenly quite a bit harder to disguise with such a distinct wound on your face. It’d be for the best, until you found a more permanent solution, to keep things hidden for now. It never hurt to have bandages on you again, did it? It might not actually help anymore with Flayer wounds, but nobody needed to know the exact nature of what had been done to you.

The fingers were much easier to hide. Much less easy to reconcile. Did that bastard have to take away two of the most important fingers on your good hand, you thought as you let your hand by your side again. The IO doctor had said to look into prosthetics, and daunting as that seemed, it was far preferable to having to learn to be ambidextrous where you were now. You and Von Metzeler both needed spare parts, after all.

…So did Yva, whenever she popped back up again. It’d be nice if she was understanding about that, Poltergeist pulling the cheap shot on her while you tried to defuse the situation hadn’t been something you wanted, but there was no doubt that she’d be angry about that.

A realization, as you gave yourself one last look in the mirror- which eye was it again, that got stuck through with a needle? You’d thought you’d have remembered better, but the train of thought led you to realize…you weren’t as anxious, in general, now. It had been easy to assume you were just relieved, that the most significant sources of stress had been lifted away, but there was a little more than that.

>Dueling for your life and evading death is rather harrowing of a task, but you’ve made it through with your life intact. You gain a Valor point.

A stop by the clinic while you were out getting food would be a good chance to give yourself a temporary solution. Anya didn’t have to see this, and she’d definitely not like it- hell, she’d probably ask where the food you said you’d get was. She was still recovering, wasn’t she? You were fine. After wounds like this there really was nothing but an upward swing, and with the new very slight spring to your step, you’d scarcely noticed that a full day and night of rest had done wonders for your limp. Still there, of course, but the reduced drag in your step combined with the slight morphine hit was giving you the steady realization that despite waking up a much less pretty man, in some ways, you were doing better despite everything.

You’d take what you could get, really.

-----

Nobody cared that you were out of uniform as you wandered towards the UGZ administration clinic, least of all you in the present circumstances, but wearing your tanker cap without the rest of its partners would have been obscene. For lack of anything to tilt to try and hide your face with, you stayed hunched over and tried to face away from people until, thankfully with very little in the way of questions from the medic, you received new dressings on your burns. That they were clearly more for concealment than treatment didn’t bother the man, who was clearly too tired in the morning to care, and could be thankful that you weren’t coming in to bleed all over him.

Close to the medical facilities was the new kitchen complex that your unit served themselves from, rather than having the battalion field kitchens moving about to you. Most of the UGZ was sustained off of packaged rations and provided raw ingredients fixed into proper meals by the various kitchens about the place, and in a way, the Administration headquarters kitchens were no different, albeit probably much better supplied, unless Maenesko skimmed supplies off of it to redistribute to the people kept there rather than the troops. Such a practice wouldn’t have been popular with the Penal troops, now made a semi-permanent exemption to the UGZ, but you couldn’t help still hoping a little that for what you’d done for the place your share of food would be proportionally larger.

With Anya’s helping safely ensconced in a ration can, you didn’t wait to have your own share. A pleasant surprise as either somebody informed the Netillians that they didn’t need so much damned black pepper in their food, or the cooking staff was made up of more local manpower. If somebody could have come out and brought you tea you might have thought it was quite a fortuitous start to this day.

You didn’t think you’d taken long at all, but when you got back to your room, you heard the funny breathing again as you passed through the door once more. Somewhere in the pile of sheets, Anya had collapsed into a slumbering pile. What a mess, you thought as you nestled the hot steel can full of egg, sausage, potatoes and cheese into the crook of her slung arm just under her shoulder, leaving her be for now. She prided herself on being up early and ready to go, and here she was sleeping in. Not that you were in any position whatsoever to talk.

-----

The circumstances of meeting with Drachen and the NLF weren’t properly hashed out when you last left, and you had the feeling that such was unavoidable, so you were thankful when you were intercepted on your way to where you’d last met one of their number, in the forest where the Ashes hid. You were even more thankful when the individual that found you didn’t include the unappealing character you’d met last time.

What you didn’t expect at all was for the person that found you in the woods to be Drachen himself.

“Hey there,” the blonde middle aged rogue flashed a haughty, toothy grin and waved, a dark cloak about his shoulders shuffling in the breeze, a slim fitted white wool coat underneath. His shaggy hair had grown out some now- he looked more vagabond than fighter, though perhaps such was more appropriate. “You’ve certainly changed since we last met, eh, killer?”

Drachen hadn’t changed, naturally. Though you didn’t hesitate to express the obvious. “You’re just up and around here? By yourself? That isn’t very safe.” Your eyes snapped about for potential watchers- guards.

The NLF commander laughed at that. “Come on now, Kommandant, you and I both know that men who hop in and out of Sosaldt don’t care about what’s safe. I’m just out here on my lonesome so that we don’t have anybody else trying to butt in or force their way on saying what’s what. So much easier to get back and say, this is what we’re doing, and have as little room for the idea fairies to wave their dicks about, eh?” He walked up next to a Kalamarz, looked it up and down, and sat on the ground by it, waving you over. “Well, you wanted to talk, right? Let’s talk. Can’t say I brought anything for a picnic, though.”

Still a little wary, you lumbered over and sat next to the man, still oddly familiar in a way you couldn’t place. That was insignificant, though, compared to what you intended to discuss…

>What to discuss/plan with the NLF now? Concerns about the ERA and the High Protector and his ilk are certainly important, as well as Alpha Two, perhaps some other things?

>>4322882
Maybe don't lead with this one, but I want to pitch my plan from the end of the last thread. Ask Drachen if he would be willing to work with the ERA when the big push to liberate Ellowie kicks off. I think we both know something big is coming, but I'm not sure he knows King Weasel is actively supporting the ERA. Basically I want to know if he is willing to compromise with the monarchists after the liberation if we can convince the monarchists to throw their weight in when the time comes.

>>4323004
Oddly similar characters now that I think of it. Now if only Maddie had the libido of Kotoko.

>>4322882
Let's see, the current state of the NLF right now in the sector would be great to know. Also what's the main plan for Alpha Two, are they going to wait for the army to show up first to kick things off? Or are they trying to drive the Netillians out of the sector first? Anything they particularly need?

Mention we're probably leaving just before the big thing kicks off and may or may not be back so in order to coordinate more he might want to sound out our Ellowian commanders particularly Wielzci and 4th so they know what's coming.

Ask about the Manaesko; obviously he dislikes the current Netillian government and has Ellowian sympathies but how much does he actually know?

As for the ERA I assume that if Alpha Two succeeds there'll be an actual Ellowian government again so it'll probably be them and not the NLF that'll have to deal with them.

>>4323018
Soon.

>>4322882
If they've received any news from out west on the exact schedule for Alpha Two that would be nice.

>>4322882
>>4323096
This sounds good

>>4323096
+1.
Also ask about those Revolutionaries that came across the border, how much can they be trusted?

>>4323096
This works, definitely bring up that the Revolutionaries they brought in are state sanctioned by Twaryi.

Bring up that we have the 6th currently that's eventually going back to the High Protector if he wants to try and infiltrate/persuade them.

Tell him about the ERA planning a large incursion against Twaryi and if he wants to participate.
>Other?
One thing we didn't figure out is the evidence on the Netilland Biological Warfare plans.

Do we want to bring that up here? Show Maenesko? Or save for the IO?
Depending if the NLF would be willing to work with the High Protector giving the Weasel the plans might sway him towards cooperation. Or maybe not but every ally we can get would be good. I don't wanna fight Magnus.

>>4323303
I don't really want to fight the Monarchists either but really I can't see them and the Republicans cooperating considering how unpopular the High Protector is among most Ellowians.

The ERA's thing most likely won't interest the NLF at all though at least it should distract the Twaryians from anything during Alpha Two.

>>4322882
What does he think of constitutional monarchies?

>>4322882
Okay, tanq, I know you drew the current /qtg/ OP pic. What is pictured there?

>>4322959
Consideration of the old guard.

>>4323096
>>4323159
>>4323160
Status of the people, Alfatoo, priorities, requests. Mention you're gonna dip before it goes loud, ideally. Say where to send out feelers for your people, ask about fish breath. The Revolutionary League's trustworthiness.

>>4323143
Gib time table

>>4323455
Hey monarchs are neat right, no bias here.

>>4323303
Bring up the 6th alongside the others, mention the Grandmaster's plans.

The papers concerning N32 and Plan 12 remain undecided upon, perhaps until a stance on who they'll work with is better known.

Writing.

>>4323540
Perfidious thots.
Though really, nothing in particular whatsoever. I've done a few of those, where it's not meant to be anything specific and more of an idea of a setting, like something that might be the OP of an actual quest, just to stir the imagination a little. In this case it's like a Trigun-esque tech western sort of deal, sort of. They're girls because I like drawing girls.

>>4323004
I love colored eyelashes.

>>4323004
I forgot to acknowledge this.
While cute, I can only hope it is from a good and wholesome thing, as I don't recognize the source.

>>4323662
I don't actually know the source either, I just saw it on /a/ and thought it looked cute. I'm pretty sure it's SFW though.

The ultimate uncertainty on your mind with Drachen across from you, a slight but broad smile on his face as he waited for your piece, was what the NLF would think of working with your other Ellowian ally- the protectorate, the Netillian sponsored regime, King Wladysaw Von Katski XI. He had no shortage of less the honorable titles from the populace he was meant to lord over- but the High Protector was a shrewder and more cunning man than he showed from his shell of mere indulgence. He knew far more than he let on, perhaps to defend himself against his masters. He admitted himself that he preferred comfort and security to any misguided ambition. The value of him as an ally was undeniable, but the NLF had sent an assassin after him in the first place. An assassination you thwarted, or rather, that your Retinue thwarted. The question wasn’t if it would be a powerful alliance, but rather, if the two sides would consider working together.

How to test such a proposal, though? Perhaps simple political philosophy would be a good lead in. You were far from an expert- for much of your life, as far as you were concerned, the Archduke ruled because he was the Archduke, and the Lords ruled their lands for the same reason. It was only in the past several months that any nuance of thought had been applied, but there was never a shortage of people willing to talk about it, was there? Maddalyn had some things to say on the subject, not that you pressed much, and Signy had definitely been enthusiastic on the Republican side of things. What was Drachen’s angle, you wondered.

“I’ve seen some divisiveness on politics here…” you started with a gross understatement, “When all of this is past, is there to be any compromise? What would you think of such compromises? Constitutional monarchy? Whatever the Utopianists might have in mind?”

That prompted a short, barked laugh from Drachen. “I could give an ant’s fart who’s in charge if they’re doing a good job, far as I can say myself. I spent plenty of time in that armpit called Sosaldt, after all. The others definitely just want the Republic back. How much do you know about Ellowian history?”

…Definitely less than you did at one point. “I know that the Monarchy was peacefully replaced by the Republic some decades after the downfall of Alexander’s eastern empire.”

“Peacefully, sure. On the surface. After strings of assassination attempts, and right after, they fled the country. I’d say it was less a transfer of power and more an ever so slightly more dignified running away, eh?” He shook his head, “Of course they want a return to what was before, but wasn’t what they had before what fell to the invaders? That’s the definitely what the reactionists and utopianists think, ain’t it? Either have to go to what led them through bigger threats than today, or try something completely new. Big dreamin’ ‘s not what they need now, though. They might not agree with the Revolutionary League on a lot of things, but we’ve taken their help for a reason. ‘Cause we need all the help we can get.”

“You’re aware that the Revolutionary League is directly sponsored by Twaryi, yes?”

“Yep.” Drachen said, oddly bright in expression, “But we don’t have much a choice, see. In the first place, Ellowie lost because they had to fight two on one, and if we have to pick opponents, well, would you rather have Netilland, or Twaryi and, by extension, Caelus?”

It wasn’t a hard choice on the face of it, no.

“Though you know what they say of Utopianists,” Drachen weighed another hand in gesture, “Depending on the sort, they’ve got more loyalty to a new world order than blood and home. Not that I’ve got any room to talk with my history!” A slap on the thigh- it was far funnier to him than it should have been, but who were you to judge. “Now, I’m certainly not going to turn down the help of the Leech King if he’s had a change of heart, and if he don’t mind us having tried to kill him. Theoretically. I’d think he’s got a lot to lose and not much to gain from that, though, and even though I don’t care, the National Liberation Front sure as hell don’t want to be sat on by a king again. At least, not how they used to.”

“How was that?”

“Absolute monarchy,” Drachen rolled his tongue, “What the king says goes. He was insured by the Reich, after all, both a servant and a protector against them. Once the King wasn’t needed to guard against the Reich, you can bet people stopped approving of him having so much control. More’n a few preferred to die rather than concede a pinch ‘a power, though. Could say the same with some of these nutty Republicans, though.”

“You said you need everything you can get, though,” you brought up again, “They’d surely appreciate even Monarchist manpower, especially if they’re willing to accept Utopianist help. Socialist help. Speaking of, what’s the state of things beyond needing all you can get?”

“Aye, that’s just manpower, though.” Drachen’s tone turned grim, “Which is really the least of our issues. See, we were never going to win the numbers game. Not as far as a conventional fighting force goes, at least. That’s one of the nice things the Revolutionaries bring along. Plenty of potential materiel. Anti-tank guns, machine guns, mortars…artillery is something we’d need to ever be more than annoying. You ever been under artillery fire, kid?”

“…Not really.” Funny, wasn’t it. “I’ve been shot at by an artillery caliber gun. Mortared. Both in a tank.”

“Nah, doesn’t count. You don’t know it until you’ve really been under it. Imagine if the Judge was an angry, wrathful deity that wanted nothing but to smash the world to pieces, not you, you just happen to be living on it. That’s how artillery bombardment is. God just laying into the ground like a drunk father. So, you see why we want just a little of that on our side.”

“Anything larger than light artillery guns are banned in the Border Zone, though.”

“Yeah, but how long will that last with an uprising? With what’s coming up?” A curious glint in Drachen’s eye, “Just going to assume, with how chummy you are with the young lady down in Mittelsosalia, that you know about that.”

“Alpha Two,” you recited, relieved that you didn’t have to bring it up. “I do, though I’ve not been told of how it will play out. What’s your role in it?”

“Simple, compared to the mess they’ve got to deal with to the south. Though if they mess up we’re just as dead. Don’t know how they’re gonna do it, but what we have to do is tie down as much as we can, just before they get started. Which means, maybe, right after you leave, things’ll get real messy here. We’ll have to do enough to draw a whole lot of attention, then try and stick it out while the real work’s done elsewhere. We’ll have to pull out all the stops, and if it doesn’t work, we won’t have anything left- but at that point the last hope’s gone, so hey.” Drachen gave a shrug. “That’s why we need everything, of course. Because we’re throwing absolutely all of it in. If Alpha Two doesn’t work, that’s it.” Drachen went on. “I don’t know how the actual army and Mittelsosalia’s gonna do it for sure, but if I were them, I’d go right for the throat. See, Netillians aren’t really too fond of their current people. If they got hit hard enough, I bet they’d just as soon be tossed out of power, and that’s all that’s really needed, I’d say. It’s a gamble, sure, but it’s the quickest way to do things before the Twaryians realize what’s going on. Coincidentally it’s the plan that’s most likely to end in me being alive to see it, ha ha.”

“Speaking of,” that note of where the Netillian people’s sympathies lay caught your attention, “You don’t happen to have any connections with the administrator of UGZ-09? Sublieutenant Maenesko?”

Drachen’s odd jolliness vanished. “Nah. There’s people in the UGZs, ‘course, and I know about the people you’re shuffling in with their arms through there, but direct association with Netillians? I certainly haven’t heard of such.”

Odd. Maybe Maenesko was too careful to get caught on that by even those he was helping? “Well, if you haven’t already, reach out to the Ellowian units stationed in UGZ-09. I’ve put them all there. One of them is a platoon provided by the protectorate, so they’re monarchists, but I think it may be worth a shot to convince them.”

“Hm,” Drachen raised an eyebrow, “Be straight with me, Kommandant. You saved the King, you’ve visited him, I think, you’re from the Archduchy, are you soft on the Monarchists? I mean, the King’s cousin or whatever’s got a great rack. Nobody’s around to hear but me.”

A shrug from you, as you felt your way forth carefully. “They’re help. Are you fond of utopianism?”

“Does Wladysaw suspect anything?” Drachen asked suddenly.

No reason for anything but the truth. “He’s suspicious. He doesn’t know, though.”

Drachen relaxed. “Alright. Good.” He leaned back, and stretched his arms behind his head. “Alright, alright. Sell me on him.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll sling it before the others. I want you to tell me what the good points are so I can spit them out. I might be the trusted voice on tactics and strategy, but I ain’t a politician. You’ll need to clear it up with the King, too, see if he’s really up for it. Next we meet, we can report what we’ve got. Good?”

>Give Drachen the points for working with the monarchists against what very well could be a common foe.
Also, concerning the Plan 12 files-
>Present them to the NLF. They could certainly abuse it among the common population.
>Save it to present to King Wladysaw. He couldn’t accept such an abuse of his people, could he?
>Give it over to the Intelligence Office. They’ll use it best for the Archduchy, and it should raise your clout with them.
>Other?

>>4324012
>>Give Drachen the points for working with the monarchists against what very well could be a common foe.
Still not sure how well this will work but I'll give it a shot.
Admit as a Strossvalder we could be biased towards monarchies but there's several pragmatic reasons:
-Manpower,manpower,manpower. Ellowie has already been depleted from so many conflicts. If there's another potential civil war or Monarchist insurgency once the Netillians are driven out the Twayrians might decide to fill in the vacuum especially if its a bloody victory for the Republic.
Having the Gendarmes on their side would also improve the odds for Alpha Two, also whatever intelligence the King might have on the Netillians.
- Assuming this succeeds the Monarchists are way more reliable against the Twaryians considering how much they hate the slone and the loyalty of the ERA is secured.
-We believe from interacting with Wladyslaw he's pragmatic enough to be willing to accept constitutional limitations considering as a Netillian puppet his actual powers would be limited anyway. After so long in exile I'd doubt he wants to be sent packing so soon.

Also, concerning the Plan 12 files
>Save it to present to King Wladysaw. He couldn’t accept such an abuse of his people, could he?
If we're going to actually attempt this then bringing this to the King would be critical and also improve his bargaining power with the Republic. Also maybe we can get him to take action against his cousin as well as a bonus.

>>4324071
Support but with related instead.
>Give it over to the Intelligence Office. They’ll use it best for the Archduchy, and it should raise your clout with them.
However, when we turn it in, assumably to boss lady, we should pitch the idea of handing it to King Wladysaw for the reasons mentioned in >>4324071 . I figure we can kill two birds with one stone and if the IO refuse giving it to Wladysaw, than no big deal considering I trust their judgement for Strossvalder state interests.

>>4324012
>>Give Drachen the points for working with the monarchists against what very well could be a common foe.
Most importantly of all, the King isn't some power-hungry delusional dictator. The guy likes living in comfort and luxury but he seems open-minded and willing to compromise where advantageous. From what we know of him he would probably be perfectly willing to accept a constitutional monarchy, so his interests aren't substantially in conflict with those of the NLF. He just needs to be convinced that they have a good enough chance to win to be worth supporting over sticking with Netilland. But if they can do that he isn't the sort of guy who's going to stab them all in the back in some foolish grab for absolute power after they've regained independence.
Seconding >>4324136 as for the files

>>4324012
Supporting >>4324071 on both counts.

>>4324012
>Give Drachen the points for working with the monarchists against what very well could be a common foe.
-Wladyslaw isn't a crazy person. He just wants to live a quiet comfy life. Limits to his power and royal influence can easily be put into place when all is said and done.
-Getting more people with better access to valuable equipment.
-Better chances against Twaryians in the future.
-A chance to see how your political rivals operate.

>Give it over to the Intelligence Office. They’ll use it best for the Archduchy, and it should raise your clout with them.
Taking the risk that gaining more clout with the IO isn't actually a horrible thing.

>>4324012
>>Give it over to the Intelligence Office. They’ll use it best for the Archduchy, and it should raise your clout with them.

>>4324012
>Give Drachen the points for working with the monarchists against what very well could be a common foe.
The people hate him so they'll never accept him as a true ruler. The Netillians hold him tightly by the leash so he doesn't particularly like them. And once Alpha Two starts if the people hear that even their Puppet King is fighting the Netillians that should really show them that this is Ellowians one for all.

But maybe most importantly is that he might actually have a capable Espionage network they could use, plus he's basically running the ERA.

>Save it to present to King Wladysaw. He couldn’t accept such an abuse of his people, could he?
I'm actually very worried that Wladybird actually knows or even endorsed the Kommissars plans, so we'd present it to him that one way or the other Plan 12 is going to be revealed against the Netillians, and being associated with them will probably run his name even further into the ground. And if he doesn't then even he can understand the ramifications of how little his overlords value him.

It is PARAMOUNT though that we do not tell the King about Alpha Two. Just having him sign a 'truce' with the NLF might be enough to keep him alive and when the invasion does start at least he should see which way the winds blowing.

>Argument against giving to the IO:
Anyone remember that time in Valsten where there was a fake Flayer gas attack on that town near the border? Do we really want to give the IO information regarding the value/use of Biological weapons? There may still be a day when they are the enemy depending on what Richter's dads investigation turns up.

>>4324957
One last point to add to Drachen:
There genuinely are a sizable proportion of Monarchists in Ellowie, from Magnus the tank commander to 6th Platoon just to name examples. If he needs everything for this fight then he's going to need EVERYTHING for this fight.

>>4324957
Supporting this on all points

>>4324957
I disagree with that assessment regarding the IO. I believe we'd be safer to gain more clout with them rather than remaining a potential liability. If our father's investigation turns up evidence that the IO is ALREADY using chemical weapons, than it doesn't really change anything if we give them this information. I believe that the usefullness of this intel lies in its absolutely scandalous implications and the secondary takeaways from the usage of chemical weapons is nothing beyond what the IO is already prepared to do. In which case, we'd be safer from further inside.

>>4324012
>Give it over to the Intelligence Office. They’ll use it best for the Archduchy, and it should raise your clout with them

Hey guys, was our eye saved from the gas or are we a cyclops for good now ?

>>4325061
That eyepatch keep the eye itself from getting fucked, but I'm not sure if it'll be fictional any time soon considering the work we had on it is probably undone.

>>4325061
>>4325071
We still have vision in both eyes

>>4325078
By Fictional I mean functional
And by functional, I mean able to turn properly without problem, which is why we had to get surgery to start with.

Defenses to be neatly compiled. As for info leakage-

>>4324071
>>4324192
>>4324957
>>4324964
Save it for Wladysaw.

>>4324136
>>4324158
>>4324234
>>4324498
>>4325032
Turn it in to Mommy.

Writing.

>>4325061
You would have been pretty aware that your eye got scorched out of its socket; it evaded the sort of the attack, but it's still not in a state of having healed yet.

>>4325071
As a fictional character, Richter's eyes by default are also fictional.

“…Well,” you murmured after a minute to collect your thoughts, “The High Protector, from what I’ve gauged of him, is hardly an ambitious man. He’d be perfectly willing to compromise on power, perhaps heavily. He wants to live in peaceful luxury and comfort.” When you had talked about it, Wladysaw himself had described his ascent to power as having been selected, rather than coming forward to take the throne. In fact, his line apparently had no shortage of violence within the bloodline fighting over a throne none of them really held. “I doubt he’d be against an independent Ellowie once more, and I believe he could be convinced to support you and Alpha Two- so long as he believes it has a solid chance of succeeding. After all, to live as he wants to, he needs to be on the winning side.”

“Being that pragmatic’s risky, for us,” Drachen said, “No easier way to get on the winning side than to know what one side’s doing and feed it to the other, and be ready to stick a knife in the other’s back.”

“I agree. Which is why he won’t, or shouldn’t, know about Alpha Two, or the most sensitive information.” At the moment he suspected it; that was all you knew for sure, but by the same token, just because he might know something didn’t mean he could just be told. “You have a whole lot to gain from at least trying, though. How much has Ellowie lost through years of constant, alternating war? Like you said, you can’t afford to be too picky, and once the Netillians are gone, you can count on the Monarchists being just as much against Twaryi as you afterwards- the same couldn’t be expected of the Revolutionary League, could it? If this works, and the Netillians are driven out, would it have been prudent to have spent yourselves fighting your own people, in the face of Twaryi, backed by Caelus now more than ever? Each gun of the Eastern Resistance Army and the King’s own gendarmes, the arms of the monarchists, is one less pointed at you and one more pointing at the Netillians.” The mathematical aspect was quite compelling. “They have that equipment too, perhaps more. There’s much to gain.”

Drachen scratched his chin, and hummed. “Certainly sounds good to me, but I know the folks will gawk over the gamble rather than the payoff. You’ll see what you can do to make the odds more reassuring, yeah?”

“I’ll do what I can,” you nodded, “He is no fool, though, and not driven by lust for power, so when the most important hour comes, so long as the tides aren’t heavily against you, I don’t doubt what his decision would be. After all, it isn’t as though the Netillians were the ones who defended him from assassination.”

“Hah. Alright.” Drachen rose to his feet and brushed himself off, “That should about take it, I s’pose.”

“Mm.” You got up much more carefully and slowly. “We won’t have to meet in the woods like this every time, will we?”

“Nah. I’ll get something to you next time.” Drachen made a finger gun at you, ”Good luck out there, Kommandant, though we won’t be doing anything but getting ready for a while, if we have stuff coming in that we don’t have to steal. Bet you’re motivated to have a quiet couple of weeks with how you’re looking right now, eh?”

“…That’d be really nice.” You sighed, touching at the dressings at your face…a blink of realization when you wondered why you couldn’t feel your fingers. They felt…as though they’d been right there. Ugh. You thrust your hand back down. “Good luck to you too.”

A quick visit to the Ashes later- they didn’t come out for some time, as you had undergone a few changes since last time. Less recognizable. Yet they still eventually figured it out. This would be their last day here, you wagered, or you intended it to be. Even if the insurgencies would cool down and Gerovic had been taken care of, thwarting the biggest motivator of Twaryian raids, especially after the numerous casualties taken by them, the more aggressive Netillian patrols wouldn’t stop. The Ashes had done a splendid job of hiding, but it was time for them to not have to hide anymore. You told them that they’d be continuing their fight from a safer place- in a UGZ minded over by a friend. They didn’t seem too sure of that, but all it took to rebuke any naysayers was to state that Anya was there- “Big Sis” as it were.

Hopefully, it would remain a shelter in the coming days.

-----

Back in Kamienisty again, you made for the hotel the Major was staying in, only to be stopped at the perimeter by an Intelligence Office man. No matter. You didn’t need to see her to deliver what you found regardless.

“Get this to her,” you said to the man, surreptitiously handing him the folder full of sensitive documents you’d recovered from the fight with the Penal deserters and the rogue mercenaries. “It’s…interesting things, concerning the Kommissariat.”

“Whatever.” The man roughly snapped the folder from your hand. “Get lost.”

“…” Fine, then. You didn’t need to be appreciated by whoever this nobody was. The quicker you were there and back the better anyways. You had official business to get to here, after all, in town. You weren’t just here to make a suspect delivery. It was the end of the week- time for requisitions, and you’d done the paperwork to be handed in to the logistics office here.

A slew of wounded had recovered enough to return to their units, from the depleted Netillian units. They’d largely been wounded before the most recent battles, and they came back to find their units greatly changed- not just in the shift in location, but the makeup of their units. You wondered if Kelwin would come back eventually- or if he had left completely, disheartened. On the Ellowian side of things, 5th platoon had been completely refilled by volunteers provided by the UGZ Council of Representatives. Very convenient for you, considering that mixing normal replacements in with that particular unit could prove extremely problematic.
>1st, 2nd, and 3rd platoons have received some replenishment. 5th platoon has been completely replenished.

Gerovic’s attacks upon you had certainly not gone unnoticed, nor had the risk of what could have happened had your unit not been in his way gone unnoticed. The destruction wrought upon you had been significant, but High Command had hardly indicated that they weren’t terribly appreciative. The casualties inflicted upon such aggressive movements would certainly dissuade similar assaults. They might have been even more pleased had they been handed Gerovic himself, but as far as they were concerned, he might still be out there. They might find out that he had gone missing, eventually, but not necessarily from you.
>You have been awarded 30 Requisition Points for stubborn defense of the territory and infliction of heavy casualties upon trespassers.

There was also the matter of what you’d seized over time from the enemy. It was an impressive amount, and not all of it, acceptable for you to hold for yourself. The train had been seized; and you, compensated for it. Somewhat.
>You’ve had 5 Requisition points forcefully exchanged for the small train.

File: 5th1stcompanyweek6_1.jpg (540 KB, 1500x1500)

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That left you with the Twaryian combat cars, a pair of armored cars with no wheels or engines, which you were left…unsure what to do with, but you’d think of something. It was easier to think of uses for the equipment you’d seized from your last operation. Much harder to think of what to do with what you’d retrieved with your crew in an ill-advised adventure over the border to find mythical salt bog brew- you ended up coming back with a Twaryian redheaded female prisoner who spoke no New Nauk, Kryz (whom had been returned to his mother), and a pair of cases of ladies’ undergarments, presumably owned by the female garrison troops like the one you’d apparently seized in a hallucinogenic trance claiming that she was Maddalyn.

>Current Loot-
>3 Combat Cars
>2 Armored Cars (Engines+Wheels removed)
>x1 Platoon’s worth of Netillian Infantry Equipment
>x1 Platoon’s worth of Netillian Elite Infantry Equipment
>x2 Cases of Women’s Underwear

Requisitions had opened up somewhat, as well. A side effect of Gerovic’s raids and the anxiety the man caused, you supposed, though all the normal things were there too.

>You have a whopping 46 RP. Go ahead and spend it. Remember to allocate where the elite gear you captured will go! Consisting of self-loading rifles and body armor for an entire platoon, it’s sure to make any unit much deadlier. Also, you need to figure out what you want to do with the various other junk you have.

I’ll be posting the stuff you can get with it after this post. Bear in mind that you can ask for things off the list, but depending on what they are, they might be quite expensive. Also, you can get equipment without crew, as well, for slightly cheaper. It may not be advisable to get a bunch of arms only for them to vanish, though.

>Infantry Platoon Upgrades:
New Model Machine Guns (3RP per platoon)- Replaces the W.dB 29 Neue-Machinengewehr equipment of the platoon with the newer and improved W.dB-Grunsen 30 Light Machine Gun- improving combat efficiency to a tune of +5 to general combat rolls.

Stormtrooper Spec Squad (6 RP per platoon)- Upgrades one squad in the platoon to be Stormtrooper spec- equipped with body armor and a greater proportion of submachineguns. This combination improves close quarters combat rolls by +10, and reduces damage taken in close quarters by 1.

Platoon Munitions Caster Team (3 RP per platoon)- Adds a munitions caster to the platoon command element, which reduces the defense bonus from fortifications to enemies the platoon fights, as well as improving its combat roll by +5.

Self-Loading Rifle Armament (8 RP per platoon)- Replaces the basic bolt action rifle armament with self-loading Grunsen Model 1930 Automatic rifles. Improves all combat rolls by +10.

Basic Equipment (8 RP)- Makes a unit combat capable. Unlocks access to other upgrades.

>Company Additions-
Anti-tank Section (7 RP)- Adds a section of Anti-tank rifleman and their supporting elements

Munitions Caster Section (7 RP)- Adds a section of 4 munitions casters spread across two teams to the company’s roster.

File: 5th1starmordetachment.jpg (212 KB, 1500x691)

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>Other Upgrades- Other things not listed may be requested, of course, but note that things that a light infantry company isn’t meant to have will likely cost quite a bit more.
Cavalry Scout Section (8 RP)- A section of mounted soldiers. Relatively archaic, but nevertheless useful.

Motorcycle Scout Section (10 RP)- A light motorized element commonly used in motorized units, but that has been spreading in prevalence with the new importance placed upon patrol of territory.

2-ton General Transport Trucks (12 RP)- Light Infantry are not meant to use motor transport, but Netilland has made trucks a priority production for its army. Perhaps you could obtain some, though at a premium…(Grants five trucks, able to transport a full platoon- as well as other things)

Recreation Unit Priority (3 RP)- Nothing helps a young man’s state of mind like a warm bed and somebody to share it with. And sharing a few more things besides the bed. Not venereal diseases, the whole point of it being regulated is hygiene!(Improves morale of the company’s units. Magically.)

Extra Fuel (1 RP per additional unit- increase Fuel Weekly Allotment by 1 per 3 RP)- Fuel is in relatively short supply beyond what is allocated, though perhaps you can convince some people to part with more…

Tank Reinforcement (Variable cost- minimum 12 RP for a singular vehicle)- Command has noted the loss of materiel to your Armor, as well as its invaluable contributions to your operations. They’ve offered to deliver replacements- should your wish them. You’ll have to be specific with what you want, however.

Armor Repair (4 RP per vehicle, per damage)- The Workshops have a lot on their plates, but with enough dealing, they can advance their schedule some. Any repairs needed will be done immediately, in the day. Alternatively, small modifications may be made, should a tank be intact but work desired anyways.

Autogyro Assignment (18 RP)- Assigns a permanent Autogyro flight pair to you. These versatile light aircraft can take off and land almost anywhere, and with the lack of hostile armed aircraft over the border zone, can fly with relative impunity, most of the time.

Anti-tank Gun Detachment (14 RP)- Adds a platoon of light 2.5cm anti-tank cannon, able to be man transported or hitched to utility cars (cars not included).

Extra Armaments (8 RP per platoon’s worth of equipment)- Spare equipment to rearm a platoon completely, or arm a new platoon, or mercenaries. Netillian commanders utilizing private troops is an uncommon but not unheard of privilege, and this requisition does not raise eyebrows in and of itself…

I am of the mind to largely equip our men who are Ellowian and only them for when Alpha Two starts.

>>4325851
I don't quite know what to Requisition yet and will wait for other anons ideas. I'd only suggest repairing the tanks fully, more permanent fuel, getting another tank and filling out our tank crews.
I don't think we should do Anti-Tank just in case we come back and find that turned against us.

But one radical idea I had was split 2nd platoon and merge them into 1st and 3rd. That way we won't get anymore automatic Netilliand reinforcements while also replenishing 1st and 3rd. They won't like being split apart but if it ever comes down to a fight then 3 Ellowian platoons vs. 2 Netilland ones sounds better.

>Junk?
Use the cases of büstenhalters for trade at the Spout Market if we ever head over there. Maybe for customized armaments or mercenaries. Depending on how much they cost per week it'd be handy to have men "loyal" only to us when we return with Alpha Two.

Give the Self-Loading rifles to 4th Platoon and the Body Armor to 1st. Ostensibly to keep their remaining members safe and prevent grumbling.

tanq is there a way to cannibalize the combat cars to repair the Armored cars? And if not then what are the cars weapons? Can they be easily used by infantry?

If the answer to these is no then maybe we can scheme with the Twaryian cars + T-16 for secret raids into Twaryi instead.

>>4325858
True, but if we arm only them too soon then that will raise suspicions with Net command and grumbling among the soldiers. So we have to arrange it that any equipment we have is stored centrally, and on the night that the attack begins only the Ellowians get access to it.
Maybe we should only buy enough in total to fully arm the three Ellowian platoons, that way the Netillians can't squirrel any away.

>>4325945
What if we use the women's underwear as rags for homemade Molotov cocktails? We have that war chest. What if we bought a ton of booze and gave that and the underwear to the NLF?

>>4325945
>tanq is there a way to cannibalize the combat cars to repair the Armored cars? And if not then what are the cars weapons? Can they be easily used by infantry?

They're entirely different machines as far as the wheels go. The workshops can repurpose the engines, though. They're roughly the same size of vehicle. The car weapons are short 3.7 cm guns and machine guns, not much use against targets more armored than themselves but useful support guns.

Aside from repairing our damaged tanks which is a given I think we should use some RP to get those two armored cars running, then if we can requisition crews for all 5 cars (preferably Ellowian crews if possible?). That would give us an entire platoon of light armored vehicles to supplement our tank platoon.
Could we get a count of how much RP it would cost to crew those vehicles, and also a list of what tanks would be available were we to requisition replacements?

>>4325851
First Priority
FIX TANKS
>Armor Repair (8 RP to fix the X-52 and T-16)

Second Priority
FUEL UNITS FOR TANKS
>3 extra Fuel Units for 3 RP

Other than that I can't think of anything.
Might wanna get those Armored Cars staffed and running. Save the Equipment for whoever asks for it first. Maybe see if we can get ourselves a translater for that Twaryian Woman we got. See if any of the boys would get a kick out of giving out a case of the Underwear or see if the ladies in the UGZ need em?

>>4325977
If the NLF need the cloth then sure I suppose, but I have a feeling they have plenty of other sources for free cloth, there's probably plenty leftover from abandoned homes. The part they probably need more is the fuel for cocktails which we might be able to donate a few barrels as well.

I think there is more value in trading it. When Richter needed help for his eye he was able to get full surgery from that Ellowian Army surgeon for 1 thong and a song. It's gotta have more worth as wearable clothing/ good bandaging in Sosaldt which we could trade up for.

>>4326001
Okay cool, could we get a discount for breaking down the cars in paying for rebuilding the armored ones? Maybe the 3rd car can be left with the UGZ or donated to the NLF.

More cars is good but I think the 2 armored ones alone are better, we have to consider the fuel costs.
I also support >>4326040
for a short list of available tanks and fully fixing the damage. If possible something heavier like Magnus' custom tank. His probably is not on the market but anything is better than garbage Nfks. Oh shit maybe the Spout market might have some of those brown T-15/16s again.

>>4325851
For now:
Elite Equipment to 4th
8RP 2x Armour Repair
3RP for 6th Platoon- maybe the replacements won't be as strong Monarchists?
3RPs worth of fuel
1x NMGs (3RP)
1x Platoon Munition Casters (3RP)
List of tanks availbile for reinforcement would be nice as >>4326040 says.
As for equipment allocation we can just leave most of the equipment with the Ellowians for now on the basis that we're going to making them conduct most of the operations until the Netillians get back to full strength.
>>4325945
It's supposed to be 3 Netillian Platoons to 2 Ellowian so no it wouldn't work.

>>4326731
Oh yeah as for the underwear either donate it to the UGZ or save it for trading if we decide to go to the Market.

>>4326731
Supporting this for now;also as others have said having a list of Armour Replacements would be helpful for most people to allocate points

>>4325851
>Equip the 4th with self-loading rifles
>Store the stormtrooper gear for now. Say we're thinking whether to fully equip one platoon or have a stormtrooper squad in each one. Actually I just don't want to give the gear to the Netillians, and giving it to the Ellowians is too suspicious. Once AlphaTwo rolls in, we'll either use it ourselves or give it to the NLF
>Did we buy a nice gun for Anya already? If not, use the underwear for the trade.
>See if engines and wheels from Netillian trucks could be installed into the armored cars

The requisitions are geared towards getting more equipment and less new Netillians
>Repair the tanks - 8 RP
>Anti-tank Section - 7 RP
>Munitions Caster Section - 7 RP
>Anti-tank Gun Detachment - 14 RP, use the combat cars for transport
>Self-loaders for the 1st Platoon - 8 RP
>2 extra fuel - 2 RP
>Store the old equipment of the 4th and 1st as well, ostensibly for spare parts, actually to arm the NLF once the time comes

Should have answered these sooner, but it is how it be.

>>4326040
>Could we get a count of how much RP it would cost to crew those vehicles, and also a list of what tanks would be available were we to requisition replacements?
The crews are included with RP costs of the vehicles, like with weapons teams, but they'd be Netillians. The only fighting units that contain Ellowian units are the Combined Infantry. Mechanized assets in a rapidly expanding army like Netilland's are reserved for much more trustworthy sorts as far as ethnicity goes. Edelschwert is against type in that, but his family's lived in Netilland a couple generations anyways.

>>4326062
>Maybe see if we can get ourselves a translator for that Twaryian Woman we got.
Those are awfully hard to come by legitimately at least without having a particularly good friend high up with the resources to cast out a good net. Too bad you lost a very fluent one, huh. Though it's not like you don't have potential acquaintances in the Kommissariat for example, right?

>>4326128
>Okay cool, could we get a discount for breaking down the cars in paying for rebuilding the armored ones? Maybe the 3rd car can be left with the UGZ or donated to the NLF.
The Combat Cars are more than mere trucks, mind you- they have automatic cannons on their rears and twin machine guns up front. They're open topped and barely armored around the most vital mechanical sections, but they're actually more heavily armed than the armored cars and have better off road capabilities, which are similar the PAE-5 cars you've seen with Edelschwert. If that's something you're fine with trading for for more armor protection, though, then that sort of discount deal can certainly be arranged.

>I also support >>4326040 for a short list of available tanks and fully fixing the damage. If possible something heavier like Magnus' custom tank. His probably is not on the market but anything is better than garbage Nfks. Oh shit maybe the Spout market might have some of those brown T-15/16s again.
NKE-1s, or by their Ellowian designation, El.Pz-5s, are indeed very valuable, but not unattainable, per se. The factories that made them have been kept going, though they were never very numerous for a reason.
Enough stalling though. The list! next post.

NfK-4(12 RP): An obsolete tankette armed with either a machine gun or a 2cm cannon; production of armed variants rather than utility hulls has ceased entirely, but many of these light vehicles were made, and plenty are left over, though are mostly used for training or patrols. Crew of 2.

NfK-7SK(16 RP): Low hulled “turretless tank.” Armed with a 3.7 cm cannon, and resists its own weaponry well enough on its sloped front. Gradually being up-gunned to use larger ordinance. Crew of 4.

NfK-7SKF(20 RP): An up-gunned variant of the NfK-7, that uses a 5 cm cannon in response to heavier Ellowian armor; significantly more powerful, but just as vulnerable to the ordinance it was before without any change in armor protection. Crew of 4.

NfK-7t(18 RP): The hull of the NfK-7, built up and lengthened, with a turret mounted atop. Decried as obsolete before it began production by its critics, but hasn’t stopped it from being made. Crew of 4.

m/28(14 RP): The old 2.8cm cannon and machine gun armed variant well familiar to you, though quite aged at this point. The old turret is unable to mount much heavier weaponry than the small cannon or heavy machine guns, but importation of conversion kits to the 1931 turret have been slow. Crew of 4.

m/28-31(18 RP): A conversion of the m/28 that uses a larger turret that mounts a 3.7 cm cannon. Naukland designs are widely used in Sosalia, but unlike Strossvald, Netilland imports their stock directly rather than manufacturing it locally. Crew of 5.

NfK-SK6(25 RP): Anti-fortification self-propelled gun that mounts a 10.5 cm direct fire howitzer along with a machine gun turret for protection. A lumbering beast of a vehicle that is crewed by 5.

NKE-1(28 RP): A well armored Ellowian tank, rather slow and armed with a 4 cm cannon. Its protection has held up quite well, though. Crew of 5.

NKE-2(36 RP): Extremely rare and prized capture. An open topped, turreted tank destroyer with frontal armor thick enough to resist most guns of 4cm and below, though extremely light on all other angles to keep it fast, its most significant trait is its long barreled, extremely powerful 7.5cm gun designed to skewer both the T-15 and potentially better protected tanks than even that. Crew of 5.

NKE-3(12 RP): A cheap, light design made by Ellowie in an attempt to even the numbers of mechanized troops on the ground between it and its enemies. Quick and proof against its own level of armament of a 2cm cannon, but certainly not the ideal. Better than nothing in their eyes, though. Crew of 3.

The armored car hulls you have, emptied of engines, will cost the same to fix as tank repair- 4 RP.

Hopefully that's enough info for those who requested it, if there's anything else I'll be much more timely with answers. To allow time for consideration, I'll hold off on calling votes for a couple hours or so.

>>4327708
Is it possible to take a tank without the crew? I was thinking we get something with more armour for our short time remaining here to complement the T-16.

Also as a side note I'd rather stick with the Combat cars rather than the armoured ones for the utility- they both won't do anything against proper armour but at least they can transport people.

>>4327748
>Is it possible to take a tank without the crew?
It is, yes.

>>4327760
What would the reduction in RP be for that, specifically the NKE-1 since >>4326128
mentioned it?

>>4327777
It's less that not taking the crew saves RP as much as the operators are complimentary. Replacing them, on the other hand, wouldn't be, is how it works.

>>4327785
Alright then my amended list:
Elite Equipment to 4th
28 RP for the NKE-1 less crew
8 RP for Tank Repairs
3 RP for 6th Platoon
4 RP for Fuel
3 RP for Munition Casters

Pretty sad we're only getting all the nice stuff after the major threat is over though.

>>4325841
We also seized a bunch of cargo trucks from the Penals right?

>>4327888
You did, yes. I neglected to list them in the recent collection of stuff, but there was a fuel truck acquired and three medium cargo trucks.

Circumstances have led to time to call being more than expected, and will probably be longer. Will call once raids are done, though!

>>4327706
>The crews are included with RP costs of the vehicles
I meant if we wanted just crews for the armored and combat cars after repairing them, assuming we don't just get them for free.

>>4328285
Well tanq already said that any replacement crew is going to be Netillian anyway so I don't think we want any of them.

>>4328270
Is this the last round of RP spending before we leave?

Aight, from what I can see, tallying up what is at the halfway mark for total votes, not counting changes-

Full Repairs to Tanks- 8RP I-I-I-I
Three Fuel- 3 RP l-l-l
Replenish 6th Platoon- 3RP l-l
Platoon Munitions Casters- 3RP I-I

Elite Equipment to be given to the Ellowian units, because the Netillians are going on vacation.

That'll leave you with 29 Requisition Points.

>>4328711
>Is this the last round of RP spending before we leave?
Nah. You can spend RP at any time, technically, but end of the week is when normal replenishment comes in and it's when paperwork is expected anyways. Because not letting you spend all this crap would be cruel.

>>4328285
Ah, yes, those wouldn't be free if you just wanted the people for different vehicles, but it'd be pretty cheap, I'd say. Replenishment cost cheap.

Sorry about the delay, writing.

I think we should've requested AT guns or at least rifles, so that the NLF has some AT firepower in the future.

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The T-16 and the X-52 were given priority in the Kamienisty tank workshop for the new clout you had, and with luck, that would mean they’d be back out by tomorrow, rather than having to wait who knew how long with the typical maintenance delay. The standard practice with equipment was to send it back out of the Border Zone and get a new piece of gear rather than having it fixed on the spot for damage like had been inflicted on your tanks, but none of your current roster had replacements. The Netillian command had offered replacements to be true, but most of their roster of armor was…subpar compared to what you already had. Ellowian surplus tempted you, but…you held off on demanding anything just yet.

>The next day, the X-52 and captured T-16 will be repaired. The T-16 will be repainted out of Twaryian colors, however.

Besides the request of standard replenishment and some additional weaponry, you asked for little else, as the fancy equipment you captured was put in the hands of the reliable 4th platoon, the equipment that it displaced set aside to be lost at a later date along with the other set you’d captured.

You didn’t really know what would happen with the tanks once it was time to go. Had the Archduchy planned on extracting the X Series, or donating them? Or scuttling them? Those tanks in particular ending up in rebel hands would be extremely suspect to be true, but if the Silver Lances were to be involved later, the cat would be out of the bag anyways. Then again, the Silver Lances did ostensibly function as swords for hire, though for prices only nation states could afford, and often to those friendly with Strossvald anyways. That they worked as such was both a nod to their original mercenary heritage, but also as a sort of shrug when anybody asked what military personnel were doing utterly outside of their country. You wondered if they would be technically bought on by the Ellowian government in exile, or by Mittelsosalia. Probably the former, though the prestige and skill the Silver Lances brought to a conflict wasn’t one that could be purchased with credit. Curious.

Going in to Kamienisty only to leave didn’t suit you much, but since you hadn’t come with your crew or anybody from your unit, there wasn’t really much to do there. Besides popping in to see Edelschwert, or if for some awful reason you felt compelled to see a Kommissar. Would Edelschwert be interested in joining the forces of the monarchists to fight for their independence? You dwelled on that on a street corner as you watched a convoy trail through, heading south, likely to the units adjacent to yours. He had his ancestry, his heritage of Knight’s blood, but did he consider himself more Netillian now or Ellowian? You didn’t really want to have him as your enemy after he had put his own life and those of his men on the line for yours.

That would depend, too, on how Wladysaw might react to the events on the horizon. Would an early implication tempt him? Or perhaps you could tell him about the contents of the Kommissariat plans you’d found? You no longer had them, but it wasn’t like you had acted duplicitous towards him. Would he be interested in seeing you without Anya, even? No, you had some measure of familiarity now, but it wouldn’t have hurt.

Unless.

Not only was there the matter of the High Protector’s allegiances, but the matter of that horrid, contemptuous cousin of his. The Duchess, Kamilia Von Katski. She couldn’t be allowed to get away with what she’d done, and your first consideration had been to write a very strongly worded letter of complaint. Would that be the best way to do it, though? After all, Wladysaw did care for his relatives, at least, for that particular nasty one. Yet if you brought Anya before him and demanded action, could he do aught but listen, and honorably act? Even if he took it as a purely political decision free of any passion, it would look awful for him to do nothing for the person who’d saved his life.

Anya was resting, though. Recuperating and healing, and it’d be as unseemly as it was potentially necessary to force her to go anywhere. That, and she had been insistent on you not getting involved. Would she have preferred you to do nothing? Was that acceptable at all?

>Write a strongly worded letter as planned. It would be the best option for making him aware whilst not pressuring him. (What sort of contents?)
>Don’t take up the issue of the Duchess, as to leave that where it lay, but still visit Wladysaw in person. There was more you wished to discuss with him than his cousin. (What to discuss?)
>Get Anya out of bed to take her to Perlowieza and the High Protector. Pictures spoke a thousand words and this picture was a particularly cruel one.
>Other?

Sorry about how sparse this is for how much time's gone. Running on fumes today.

>>4329505
>>Visit Wladysaw in person. There was more you wished to discuss with him. (Partnership with the Drachen mostly, but also fuck letters just talk shit about his cousin.)

>>4329585
I agree with this. Always go mano-a-mano

>>4329505
>>Other
We should visit the King in person, but is it possible to get some pictures of Anya's current condition first? Don't want to drag her there but we do still kind of need the shock factor.

>>4329616
>mano-a-mano
Too soon

>>4329505
These are good >>4329585 >>4329797
Also, btw tanq, does Richter still have his missing digits handy or did the IO doctor throw them in the trash?

>>4329505
>Get Anya out of bed to take her to Perlowieza and the High Protector. Pictures spoke a thousand words and this picture was a particularly cruel one.

I hate doing this to Anya but I think bringing her will have the most leverage in both the Kamilia and NLF matters. I imagine the King can be pretty cold if we simply make our case to him alone, it'll be a helluva lot harder if Anya is staring at him dead in the face if he tries to make excuses for Bitchtits.

As for the NLF we need all the help we can get convincing him if we don't wanna fight the Monarchists, and I truly do believe the NLF will need their added numbers.

Plus it makes Anya feel helpful after we tell her the plan, and get some good food and fresh air. I imagine she's bored as hell simply left by herself.

>>4329505
>Get Anya out of bed to take her to Perlowieza and the High Protector. Pictures spoke a thousand words and this picture was a particularly cruel one.

>>4329585
support, dont take Anya

>>4329797
>is it possible to get some pictures of Anya's current condition first?
If you had a camera, film, spent time to have the pictures developed in a dark room, et cetera, yes. However, you lack most of these things. Maybe if you went to a bigger city with enough money you'd find a camera and film in the first place, but you've spent most of your liquid cash on jewelry, so you don't really have the funds as it stands now to buy a camera anyways.
Also considering how many bruises are on her torso telling her to take off her shirt so you can take pictures of her may not end well :^)

>>4329894
>does Richter still have his missing digits handy or did the IO doctor throw them in the trash?
You still have them. You might want to figure out what you want to do with them before they get too nasty.

Anyhow,

>>4329585
>>4329616
>>4329894
>>4330749
Go see the High Protector in person for this.

>>4330161
>>4330725
Drag Anya out of bed and out to the city.

Writing!

>>4331071
Should say, while you don't have the camera, you do have the hospital work. It's text, though.

>>4331073
Alright bring it with us then.

Anya could continue to rest, but that didn’t mean you weren’t about to venture off to Perlowieza again. There was nothing in the sector that demanded your attention at the moment, and if something suddenly came up at this point, you’d be the fool, but you’d be the most shocked fool on the globe. It was time to tend to the future now, not the present, as well as attending to a wrong that needed righting in some way.

You had to wait a little bit for the next train out, but there wasn’t any trouble getting out. Some of the train station guards had become familiar with you at this point, with all your traveling, and that you were the local Coordinator, and one decided to approach you as you waited at the platform.

“Hey,” the black haired, clean shaven fellow’s accent sounded like Maenesko’s. Presumably a Netinauk, then? “You’ve seen better days, huh? Where’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s not-“ you cut yourself off and cleared your throat. Patience, Richter, eventually you’d explain this to the entire Netillian army and that’d be the end of it. “My retinue was wounded, and is recovering.” Then once you were done with that explanation you’d have some reason to have your fiancée over, and people would ask about your little sister or something similarly stupid.

“Not as bad as you’re looking, hopefully.”

“Thankfully not.” Your hand clenched, and the absence of a few fingers was…more unsettling than you’d thought it would be.

“Heard you showed that Gerovic what for.” The first battle, presumably, not the second.

Finally, something that couldn’t be scowled at, before you realized he referred to the open battles and not the man himself no longer being a problem. “The Twaryians are welcome to try again, if they have anybody left.” You really, really hoped they wouldn’t, even if they did.

“…So what d’ya have there, if you don’t mind,” the guard looked down at the papers in your hand that you were reviewing, before he came up to chat.

“Ah, hospital records, from when my Retinue was discharged.” Far earlier than the doctors had advised, of course. “She was…attacked.” Best not to mention the politics of it.

“Oh, sorry,” the guard straightened up, “None of my business, and all.”

“No, it’s fine to be curious…” you sighed as you folded up the papers. Without actually having Wladysaw see Anya, it wouldn’t be so simple to accuse his cousin, but it was the best you could do at short notice. “Say, what do you think of the High Protector?”

The Netillian guard scoffed heartily. “What about him? Whatever keeps the friggin’ Kaiser’s bootlickers cool, though I think plenty of them don’t like him either. Maybe I’d like him better if I was a Kommissariat rat or somebody else living a party life in the army of all things.” A pause. “Hey, you’re not friends with any Kommissariat, right?”

“Far from it,” you grumbled.

“Phew.” The Guard wiped his brow, “Uh, I’ll quit mouthing off ‘round you. Later, Coordinator.”

“Hm.” You grunted at him as he turned and left. Nobody else approached as you waited, and as noon passed, the passenger train that had pulled in was turned around, and ready to accept you and a scant few others going up. Decently familiar with the trip by now, you did your best to nap on the way to the city on the hill, and when that didn’t work, you did a little more precious reading of Chevaliers du Nouveau Siècle. You were in the home stretch of it by the time Perlowieza was pulled into- you’d need new study material again. There was so much to replace…

-----

Despite your delayed concern that not having Anya along might make getting a meeting with Wladysaw more difficult, the gates were practically thrown wide for you when you arrived. The new enthusiasm was refreshing. If only you could be so welcome back in your home country, hm?

“Is Mabel around?” you asked the servants who escorted you through halls that surely had new décor since last time.

“Ah, the head maid, yes,” one of the servants coughed, “Yes, but she is often quite occupied. Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity.” You left it at that, glancing at a new painting of some strange scene that had the appearance of a rocky landscape at first, but then a crowd of gaunt faced people the next, either lit by a sunset, or by a fire, depending on how you looked at it. Unsettling.

Wladysaw waited for you at a squat tea table in what seemed a relatively simplistic conservatory, though when you looked more closely, beyond the exterior of the glass walls was merely painted walls, lit cleverly to appear as a cloudy day. Coincidentally, it had matched the weather outside, though not precisely. That and the placing of it in the castle was what had tipped you off, but the combination of the painted landscape and sky with the false plants in pots and boxes all about made a very good illusion.

“So Av Helgoshallos returns!” Wladysaw spread his arms with a smile, dressed in a shining blue velvet three piece suit with a pale yellow ruff at his neck, his hair oiled back as usual. “Did the Twaryians’ champion wound you?” he cocked his head with a frown at your face.

“…No, this was another matter.” You approached, and stood until the High Protector motioned for you to sit. “This is an interesting room.”

“A fun bit of trickery,” Wladysaw agreed, “It needed restoration, after so long. It was originally made by the last king of Ellowie…before me, of course, if I may indulge myself.”

The door opened soon after you had sat down, and a familiar face strode in with a silver tray, though she froze just after entering. It was Mabel again, looking like how you’d initially seen her, in black maid’s attire and her thick lensed spectacles, no less severe.

“Come along, Mabel,” Wladysaw waved her forward.

“Your majesty. I did not think you would have guests,” Mabel said quietly as she bent in a bow. Was that a hint of bitterness?

“Not planned, but not unwelcome either. Is that the wine and tarts?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“A shame you didn’t bring three glasses,” Wladysaw stood to take the tray, but Mabel strode forward and put it on the table instead. The High Protector clicked his tongue. “Busy, I suppose?”

“Yes. Your majesty.”

“What happened to the days where you would call me Young Master, Mabel? It’d be fun to say that for a day, wouldn’t it?”

Mabel merely curtsied. “Your majesty. I must be going.”

Wladysaw sat again and watched her with a frown as the blonde maid left the room and closed the door behind her. “Ah, well.” He turned back to you with a smile. “In any case, I know you never send ahead, but I am fond of some surprises. Not of your wounds, good heavens no, but I’ve been informed that the foul Gerovic will trouble us no longer. I simply can’t wait to be the one to announce it.” The High Protector put his hands together on the table, before laying one out, gesturing to the bottle of wine. “Honeyed White, the pride of Vynmark’s vineries. It is never too early for just a couple of glasses of wine, especially when it’s as delicate as this.”

“Yes, Gerovic certainly won’t be causing anybody any trouble again,” you reached for the bottle, and Wladysaw looked taken aback.

“Ah, your hand, as well! How terrible,” he shook his head, and took the bottle for you, “If Gerovic was not the one to do that, who was?”

“…I’d rather not say, but they’re very dead.” Some comfort in that. “Did Mabel tell you about what happened to Gerovic?”

“That you abducted him, and that now he’s vanished, indeed,” Wladysaw measured out a glass of wine, then put it before you with a soft clink on the tray. “The northerners haven’t spoken a word of it to me, nor announced it, so you’ve certainly not given him over to them. I can presume you aren’t saving him for me either. I wonder, what on earth the Archduchy wants with him?” He began to pour his own wine, “Oh well, I shan’t pry into all of your matters.”

You weren’t very fond of how much he had figured out, narrowing your eyes as you sipped at the wine with your left hand rather than your right- something you’d need to get used to. However, you were both alone, and the High Protector certainly wasn’t about to have you locked up for taking care of a problem your own way.

“So then, why are you here?” Wladysaw asked, “I’m afraid that you’re not supposed to come about just for entertainment, so I’m forced to presume you’re here for business, else I’d ask you to come to a party instead. There are ones I can put you on the list for that are not so public as the Langenachtfest one, after all. There was one recently even that your other officer, I believe his name was Von Metzeler, deigned to arrive at as a performer.”

Huh?...No matter. You unfolded the hospital report from your pocket, and slid it in front of Wladysaw, who took out a glasses case and placed a small pair of spectacles on his nose to read the small print.

“…Hm, the poor dear,” Wladysaw said mournfully, “How was Lady Nowicki so terribly hurt?”

“Ask your cousin,” you said venomously, “The Duchess of Diameniglica.”

Wladysaw’s frown deepened, and he sighed, closing the paper again and taking his glasses off. “She has been brighter than usual recently. What of this, though? She is nobility, and while I am sympathetic to Lady Nowicki’s health, my dear cousin is royalty. In older times, Lady Nowicki could have been imprisoned for a long time, or perhaps lost a hand for striking Kamilia so. I did my best to dissuade her from taking spiteful action, but now that it is done, her interest in pursuing it further has vanished. I’m afraid that, with that in mind, it would be a poor idea to revive it all again. I’m quite willing to provide condolences, and recompense to an appropriate degree, but if you believe that Kamilia would be punished, you are mistaken. Such is not how that works, and you should know, being from the Archduchy.”

>So be it. It was true that Anya was of a lower class- hell, people from Sosaldt were rarely even considered more than bandits. She’d be happier with recompense anyways. (Of what sort?)
>Refuse to back down. Could he deny such satisfaction to Anya’s face? She deserved respect, you demanded such. (Of what sort?)
>Acknowledge that, but warn that you’ll be forced to find some other way of getting even if Wladysaw won’t at least condemn his cousin’s actions, if not excoriate her for them.
>Other?
Also-
>Bring up the subject of the NLF and Alpha Two flat out. You expected his allegiance- why be coy about it?
>Hint at something going on with the NLF- that you heard from prisoners or such that they’re interested in a truce. Maybe, considering his contacts with the ERA, the High Protector could make contact and perhaps peace?
>Speak naught of the NLF or Alpha Two. It was too dangerous to let this man know, in his position. Only float the possibility of what he’d want should Netilland fall and he remain.
>Other?
As well as
>Any other things to discuss?

>>4331412
>>So be it. It was true that Anya was of a lower class- hell, people from Sosaldt were rarely even considered more than bandits. She’d be happier with recompense anyways. (Of what sort?)
Monetary compensation seems fine, maybe we can drop by the Spout Market with the crew and get something nice for Anya. Richter isn't going to be able to do shit with his dominant hand like this.

Probe him with this first and see his reaction:
>Hint at something going on with the NLF- that you heard from prisoners or such that they’re interested in a truce. Maybe, considering his contacts with the ERA, the High Protector could make contact and perhaps peace?

>Any other things to discuss?
Before the hint about Alpha Two inform him about Plan 12 and N32. It's alright if he's dubious about it but I'm sure he has his own spies that can dig around.

>>4331412
>So be it. It was true that Anya was of a lower class- hell, people from Sosaldt were rarely even considered more than bandits. She’d be happier with recompense anyways. (Of what sort?)
A rare gun. Or money otherwise.

>Any other things to discuss?
Plan 12 and N32

If he shows indignancy,
>Hint at something going on with the NLF- that you heard from prisoners or such that they’re interested in a truce. Maybe, considering his contacts with the ERA, the High Protector could make contact and perhaps peace?
Serve it as him and the NLF allying to prevent Plan 12. Don't say anything about Alpha Two.

>>4331412
>>Refuse to back down. Could he deny such satisfaction to Anya’s face? She deserved respect, you demanded such. (Of what sort?)
The way the nobility acted in the past is what paved the road to where we are now. Ellowie is in flux, people are worried about losing their republic permanently to the old monarchy. Wladysaw can make things different, he can ensure the new monarchy will not end up the same as the old. Have the Duchess write a letter of apology to Anya herself, show that he is willing to push back against the nobility for the sake of equity, just a little bit.

Based on how this goes, if he agrees to these demands then I say,
>Hint at something going on with the NLF- that you heard from prisoners or such that they’re interested in a truce. Maybe, considering his contacts with the ERA, the High Protector could make contact and perhaps peace?
If he is working with the ERA, ask if he would work with the NLF if he could be sure that they were willing to work with him. If he is open to the idea admit we know a guy in the NLF who could get the ball rolling.

If Wladysaw cannot or will not police the nobility on his own, then
>Speak naught of the NLF or Alpha Two. It was too dangerous to let this man know, in his position. Only float the possibility of what he’d want should Netilland fall and he remain.
Talk to him about how he plans on handling most of his supporters being in the south while he is in the north. He has almost no public support where he is now and without Netilland he would be hard pressed to say the least. Whatever his plans are for that eventuality, if he has any, still offer to help him, just not with any incriminating specifics.

>>4331556
Supporting this

>>4331412
>>4331890
This.
It's messy, but it's based and I love it.

>>4331412
>>4331890
Supporting, especially the bit about what he plans to do with no support up here.

This is a neat little personality test for Wladysaw to see if he believes the bullshit he spouts or if it's all a public persona he's trying to cultivate. It probably isn't indicative of how well he'd rule in a constitutional monarchy but if he's willing to bend a little here against his actual holier than thou sentiments then he'd probably be willing to compromise in the future.

If he thinks his shit don't stink then the NLF definitely won't wanna work with him.
>Other?
NO
MATTER
WHAT - Do not mention Alpha Two, not even a fucking hint.

The most we offer is floating the idea of a truce with the NLF.

>Any other things to discuss?
If Twaryi were to invade tomorrow, what forces does he directly command for defense?
Has he been trying to raise his popularity among the people?
How many Ellowians are strong supporters of his?

I think if we frame all of this as building up his protection it might get him in a better mindset with working with the rebels.

He might immediately demand to know what is going on and why we are so insistent on this, in that case maybe bring up N32 and Plan 12 and that if Ellowie hears about it the popular opinion of is going to turn even harder against Netilland. And he might wanna prepare for it.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Well, this is an interesting tie, isn't it. Time to flip a coin.

>>4331444
>>4331556
>>4332062
1-Dump money into the issue.

>>4331890
>>4332171
>>4332510
2-The times require compromise- especially when you aren't as powerful as the monarchs of old thought themselves.

Besides this, generally being shady about the NLF and Alpha Two- only breadcrumbs laid. As well as Plan 12 and the N32 pathogen, among other topics.

I suppose if accepting monetary compensation goes through you might want to go to the Spout Market and see what's for sale from the lawless frontier of sorts.

Writing.

>>4333148
Hm, though really, what's brought up really isn't incompatible with what's said about the philosophy of compromise, is it?
I'll work that in, though the Duchess definitely won't be being compelled to write letters.

You weren’t happy about that at all. Fobbing off an affront of honor with money was considered mockery by some (admittedly radical and hot blooded) nobles, but Wladysaw’s intentions were clearly not meant to be that. You wanted to press him on that- to demand that your Retinue be delivered proper respect and satisfaction for being attacked and the humiliation, the indignity of being wounded so badly, but the more you sat there smoldering, the more you thought if Anya would prefer a letter of personal apology, or if she’d prefer it to be buried- and to be given a pile of money instead. Perhaps a gift.

Righteous indignation cooling, you settled back into the wooden back of the chair, a creaking accompanying a quiet sigh, but you still had the principle of the matter in mind, even if you’d accept material recompense for this affront.

“Monetary recompense would be fine, but Anya likes guns, so if you’ve anything in the vein of those earrings you gave her, she’d be happy with that.” You still had to buy her one too, to be fair.

“Ah ha, I cannot part with artifacts of the Royal family so often, I’m afraid,” Wladysaw relaxed some, but you weren’t quite finished.

“Though, such behavior is what paved the road to your ancestor giving up the throne in the first place, isn’t it?” You said warningly as you sipped at the wine, sweet and light as a high up cloud. “Some contrition for the lower classes is a necessity. Don’t your new subjects have the Republic to think back to?”

“I am well aware,” Wladysaw remained relaxed, but raised his eyebrows, “Of course, Strossvald went under a similar realization, you should know. It was, however, not by the will of the people under the rule of the petty kings and princes, but the necessity of having an advantage in force. Kaiser Alexander conquered and subjugated the disparate and scattered peoples, and unified under the gauntlet of the Reich, said nobility had to make concessions to those whom they no longer had power over, in order to gain it again. The end of serfdom and slavery in exchange for aid in throwing off the shackles of Czeiss. Yes.” Wladysaw drained his glass in one tremendous pull, “However. Look at what we have here in Ellowie, yes? Do the Ellowian people have the force to overwhelm Netilland and Twaryi both? Their army did not. The Netillian neo-nobility, their Defense Party, are far more abusive than I or my family, what is left of it. Yet they may only dream of being free of it when they can muster sufficient force. Until then, practically speaking, it is for the best to not antagonize my allies…and family.”

A glance to the door. Maybe you could edge something in here? “…What if it were Netilland alone whose force had to be exceeded? So that there was hope for something more?”

Wladysaw picked up a poppyseed biscuit from the platter of midday snacks and drink, pondered its speckled surface. “You think it wise to bite the hand that feeds me, Von Tracht?”

“More the scenario if the hand ceased to feed. You’re a man who plans well ahead, aren’t you?”

Wladysaw paused, then slowly put the biscuit back on the tray. “I would think my interest down south answer that, yes?”

“Partially.”

“What an interest in futures you have,” Wladysaw stroked his chin, “May I ask what spurred curiosity in such?”

“I’ve found out something recently.” Bait laid. Obviously placed, but Wladysaw’s own curiosity was obviously prompted when the words reached his ears.

“Oh?” Wladysaw pondered just a moment, “Interesting. Of course, I did consider the possibility of fleeing back whence I came again, and groveling before Vynmarks’ grafs, but I’ve established myself to a reasonable degree since then. I don’t care much for such petty things as absolute power, of course. They age a man quickly, and I am fond of my luxury, my castle, my gatherings, much more than demanding any bend the knee. If the Defense Party were to suddenly leave for one reason or another, or…they became unfriendly or lost their ability to ensure my security…”

He crossed a leg over another and put his hands together on the table. “Supposing that I was left with all I have now, I have under my administration approximately twenty five thousand in the Gendarmes, not counting their support, nor police whom are locally administered. A petty force, to be true, far dwarfed by the Netillian Army, as is their design, and only truly trusted to garrison rather safe places hardly in need of the use of active force…such as this fair city. They are equipped for war, however. Such is the benefit of politicking in parties. Ah, I say to this general, would a few women’s brigades not look good to the populace? What about a few regal sets of cannon to parade around? Old pieces, yet when one puts it a certain way they invite generosity, you see. Motorized assets are all seized, or surrendered to the Netillians, but horses are an acceptable allowance, and also look grand in regalia. There are also, of course, friends in Vynmark to consider, besides being merely a refuge.”

Twenty five thousand. You couldn’t help but blink. It was true that compared to either army, and presumably spread over occupied Ellowie, it was a feeble force. If it was gathered in one place, however, it was the equivalent of two divisions, and included artillery, something Drachen bemoaned lacking, as well as presumably cavalry. Who knew what other toys Wladysaw had inexplicably managed to schmooze to his private scarlet-clad guard? There was also the matter that it might grow, even.

“They do little more than drill, march, and look pretty, but such is any army before it is blooded,” Wladysaw picked up a glass and sipped, ”Even Netilland’s ever bloating forces. Besides those in the Border Zone, including those Combined Infantry troops ostensibly trained to integrate into my Gendarmes, so many of them are merely for show until a war comes along which the northerners are certainly not ready to prosecute, but then, neither are the Twaryians…for now.”

“What of those not in the Gendarmes?” you asked, still holding a wine glass but not having taken a drop out of it since your last sip, “The ERA is in the south, and you are in the north. I haven’t heard the kindest things about you from Ellowians hereabouts, to be frank. Are you making any attempt to win them over?”

“To what end?” Wladysaw asked blithely, “There are benefits to joining the Gendarmes, attending the events, but besides that, I am not given control of public funds. It is of far greater value to use my resources to consort with those higher in the social strata, you see. I am well apprised of my other titles. Weasel, Leech, though my favorite is probably the High Bootlicker.”

A wry smile on his face. “Imperial Bootlickers, that is the public perception of my family in its gradual twilight. They licked the boots of the Kaisers, and when political marriage to an Imperial lady was made, came the accusations that the Kings kissed the feet of the Imperial noblewomen they married, to whom they were mere puppets. So I am a puppet to the Netillians, and such is all I can be, as it is now. I do, however, try my best to be kind and generous to my Gendarmes, my servants. They do suffer for their support of me, it is all I can do to make them look dignified and professional, steadfast, in opposition to the picture of a traitor, or whatever they may be criticized as.”

For all Wladysaw tread carefully and evasively implied, that last statement, as well as his willingness to pay recompense at all rather than say that Anya got what she deserved, told you that he wasn’t satisfied with merely sitting on a throne and partying like he implied.

“I suppose, though, should I suddenly be left alone…I would like to reach an agreement with what force I have, to allow a position of shared power with whom came after, ideally. To be true, I’d be satisfied merely doing what the people wished me to do, and no more. So,” Wladysaw leaned closer, “I’ve certainly spoke much. What was this interesting thing you found out..?”

Of course, Wladysaw couldn’t know about Alpha Two. Not a word. However, there were other controversial happenings, or rather plans for potential happenings, and though you’d given the hard evidence to the Intelligence Office…you could still point him and his intelligence assets in a suspect direction. Provided he didn’t know about it already, but you were willing to take that risk.

“Have you ever heard about Plan Twelve, by the Netillians?” you asked.

Wladysaw shook his head. “I presume you refer to emergency plans. I know of a few, but not all of them, nor their number. Twelve, you say?”

“Sections of it are the concern,” you said, “I found captured Kommissariat documents in the possession of Penal soldiers and rogue Mercenaries I chased down the other day. They described Plan 12, which deals with containment of a potential outbreak of disease in a UGZ. However, the important, interesting thing,” you leaned forth as well, “Is the concern over a particular disease. Something called N32. Are you familiar with it?” Another wary shake of the head. “To put it bluntly, Plan 12 concerned potentially containing an artificial outbreak, caused by purposeful infection of a settlement with N32. Ostensibly for the purpose of reducing a UGZ’s willingness to violently resist by causing all of its inhabitants to become ill…with a disease infectious and debilitating enough they were concerned about limiting its spread. Of course, it would spread through occupied Ellowie before it reached Netilland proper…”

Wladysaw was silent, narrowed his eyes at you, before finally opening his mouth and saying, “I cannot think of why you’d tell me this, if you wanted to keep me close to Netilland. This, and your relation with the Mittelsosalian Minister…hmmm…” That look on his face didn’t grow any more trusting, and you felt nervous- was the Fear acting up over this foppish king, of all things? No- he was certainly threatening, your body had simply perceived it before your mind. “I pay my debts, Von Tracht. I have the honor for that. Yet, tell me. Do you have any evidence? These papers you found?”

“…I do not have them on me, no.”

“And you do not have Gerovic.” Wladysaw’s blue eyes pierced through you like icicles spearing into your head. “Interesting. Tell me on the honor of your ancestors. You are not trying to deceive me, are you?”

“…Absolutely not.” You felt your voice grow thin, despite you telling the truth.

“I will look into this, have some people see what they can find,” Wladysaw’s voice lightened and he straightened up, grabbing the wine glass and bottle again, “I should hope they find something, and that my trust is not misplaced.”

“You are the only one I have let know of this,” your voice turned firm again as you found steady ground once more, “You are the only Ellowian who knows.”

Wladysaw frowned, as he topped off his wine. “And why is that?”

“You say the people hate you, but also, that they really hate the Netillians. I’ve poked about the insurgencies, as part of my duties- they know that they’re weak, and that they seek a peace, a resolution, of some sort. You are a king who said that you would do as your people wish, if you were given power…such information, pressed by yourself to the Netillians…could your enemies amongst the Ellowians criticize you for being the one to shed light on this? And afterwards, if you reached a hand out to those who despised you before, wouldn’t they take it?”

Wladysaw closed his eyes, and sipped quietly at his wine. He said nothing.

“I am trying to help you, High Protector,” you insisted.

“You are a very interesting fellow, Von Tracht.” Wladysaw finally said, “You know more than you are letting on, but that brazen spouting of a secret, and the hint of something afterwards…you’ve confidence in something, but also, confidence in I…” Another drink of the honeyed wine. “I will consider it. Not a word of this leaves this room. Do you understand?”

“Yes, High Protector.”

“No,” Wladysaw stood, “That is my style of address from the Netillians. If what you say is true, then I must be a king, not a High Protector.” A sudden nervousness on Wladysaw’s face, as he put his knuckle to his teeth, “…Damn, of all the things I expected, even along these lines…” He fixed his collar, his sleeves, and cleared his throat. “Ahem. In any case.” As though the heavy atmosphere before vanished without a trace, “Are you and Lady Nowicki interested in attending a party at the end of this week? I would ask you her measurements, if you would be so kind. I’m of the mind to dress her in something grand, if she would attend.”

Now it was your turn to ask. “Why?”

“To honor her with a dance with a king, of course,” Wladysaw smiled broadly, “Even if she refuses to be decorated in a public event, I still have yet to reward her sufficiently for her deeds. I had hoped to ask her in person, but,” his smile lessened in breadth, “You did not bring her this time.”

“We discussed why.” You weren’t sure if Anya would be fit to dance in a week, or if she wanted to come. If she did, then she’d certainly try.

“Yes. Well.” Wladysaw downed the rest of his wine, “I’ll have a missive sent to you. Send me her measurements when you can, it would not do for anything to fit improperly…especially with the sort of fashion she seems to favor. Quite racey. I must be off, however. Linger here however much you like. A servant outside the door will escort you out when you wish, and I will inform them to present you your monetary recompense- in your choice of currency. Netillian Marks are less valued than, say, Union Marks, in places…”

With that, Wladysaw made his way, slowly, out the door, as though he had to walk slower to give himself more time to think.

>Another party? Why not? You supposed you could take Anya along.
>Parties weren’t your style, and Anya needed rest, not excitement. You’d have to decline.
>This wasn’t really an invitation for you, was it? You were perceptive enough of that. Tell Anya about it and let her decide- you wouldn’t need to accompany her.
>Other?
Also-
>Plan to go to the Spout Market tomorrow. You had money, and a need to spend it. (On what, precisely? If you’re looking for a gun, for example, you might want to be specific.)
>See if you can prepare arrangements to talk to the ERA about the potential attack they had planned. You had a break from fighting, but that didn’t mean it could hurt to give them a win, considering what they might be asked to do in the future.
>Other?

>>4333510
>Another party? Why not? You supposed you could take Anya along.

>Plan to go to the Spout Market tomorrow. You had money, and a need to spend it. (On what, precisely? If you’re looking for a gun, for example, you might want to be specific.)
SMG or pistol I guess, something that can be stored in a tank or carried on her the next time we get jumped. Though I'm also interested in what other stuff there may be.

>>4333524
Oh also keep an eye out for any masks or prosthetics as well I guess.
Though I'm not expecting us to get anything good until we get out of the Border Zone

>>4333510
>>Another party? Why not? You supposed you could take Anya along.
>Plan to bring Anya to the Sprout Market when she's feeling up to it. It's really her money so she should get to pick out what she wants.

I think this party is actually the best chance Anya could hope for to get revenge on the Duchess, way better than the compensation. Imagine how much the Duchess will seethe when she sees Anya being honored by dancing with the king. Plus when everyone there sees Anya's wounds they'll assume she got them fighting against some dastardly Twaryians and feel bad for her. Imagine how embarrassing it would be for people to find out it was actually the Duchess who hurt her that way...

>>4333510
>>4333671
This works
Oh he is tempted alright. But goddammit we should have kept the evidence to give him. Maybe we can ask the Major for the originals after she's made copies of them? I see no reason why she wouldn't give them back unless she didn't want anyone else but the IO to know.
In which case the cat is out of the bag anyway.

(On what, precisely? If you’re looking for a gun, for example, you might want to be specific.)
Anya probably would want a big gun, or something that causes explosions. Maybe custom fitted armor?

As for us, either supplies for the NLF/ERA or if they have any exotic tanks/kits/upgrades or even Grey Gunner specialists or Merc support.

It'd also be nice to see if there are any Ellowian Army contacts in the region.
>Other?
Bring those cases of underwear for barter. Maybe we can sell some of those excess Combat cars? Having them all is good but we really don't have the fuel to spare to field them all, especially if we have to consider a week of expenses. Maybe keep one either to use or refit an Armored Car?

tanq this might be a better question for the Major but has there been anything about our extraction and the tanks we have coming back with us? Or just the Strossvalder personnel?

>>4333796
>tanq this might be a better question for the Major but has there been anything about our extraction and the tanks we have coming back with us? Or just the Strossvalder personnel?
Concerning the tanks, no; they were sent along in the first place because anything useful design-wise about the tanks themselves had been extracted already, rendering them disposable. The priority, of course, is you and your men- you've been given no responsibility nor obligation to scuttle or sabotage your equipment, nor prepare it for transport.

>>4333510
>Another party? Why not? You supposed you could take Anya along.
>Plan to go to the Spout Market tomorrow. You had money, and a need to spend it. (On what, precisely? If you’re looking for a gun, for example, you might want to be specific.)
Call me old fashioned, but the classic holdout derringer in the boot seems like an interesting option to try and have for the future.

>>4333510
>>4333524
>>4334186
This list of weapons sounds good. Bring the underwear along as well to barter as well.

>>4333510
>Another party? Why not? You supposed you could take Anya along.
>Plan to go to the Spout Market tomorrow. You had money, and a need to spend it. (Something with fire power, but that's easy to hide. She seemed to get a real kick out of concealed weapons.)

>>4333524
>>4333671
>>4333796
>>4334186
>>4334267
>>4334341
Well this is rather unanimous isn't it. Party, Spout market, drag along Anya with what's really her money.
Writing.

Another party? You couldn’t complain, the levity was a nice break from what you’d done recently, at least. Anya would certainly be taken along there- there was the prestige of what was planned for her, as well as the simple fact that any wounds that remained on her would be clearly on display- and the curious would have their answer. Perhaps Wladysaw was, again, more clever than you gave him credit for. In any case- the money. You had a trip to take to the Spout Market tomorrow, and you intended to bring Anya along to spend her newly acquired compensation, if what she said about being certain of walking on her own feet the next day turned out to be true.

The Servant wasn’t right out of the door, but the young man did approach you, and led you to another room much deeper in the castle, going below.
“His Majesty has instructed that I give you one thousand Union Marks in coin form,” the young man said as he was leading you downstairs, efficient and businesslike in tone, “Bills are in more common usage, but coins are better respected for their silver content, especially in Vynmark.”

Why Vynmark used East Valsten’s currency was something that escaped your current knowledge, but you supposed it might have something to do with the Union of Valstener States being spread over the southern regions as well as in Vinstraga, the bloc of colonial states called Zeeland. You were motioned to wait outside of a small, heavy door that had to be opened by two guards, and held open, for the servant to enter with a cloth handbag, and exit once more, presenting it to you. It didn’t seem like there was very much in there, but a brief inspection inside the bag revealed why. In half-closed binders that held stacks of coins, there were various sizes of currency; rather than, say, two hundred ten mark coins, there were also stacks of fifty mark coins mixed in, for example. Some of these decorated silver discs were an enlisted man’s entire monthly salary that could be held in the hand.

“I can carry that for you, sir,” the servant coughed, “If you want.”

“I’m fine.” You said back quickly. You weren’t a cripple yet, damn it. A couple fingers short and plenty jaded, but that was all. “I’ll just be led back up, if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, sir.”

An idle wondering as you went back up, whether you’d have the misfortune to run into Kamilia Von Katski again. You didn’t know what she’d want now, but being unpleasantly surprised was something you didn’t want to be caught off guard by again- especially by somebody you couldn’t deal with by blasting them. Was that why Heller Von Tracht exiled himself so totally, never to return? In the wild wastes, all that mattered was how well armed you were, how well you fought, when it really came down to it. There was society and structure, but none so ironclad as that of noble society, nothing that one such as Hell couldn’t smash apart.

Careful there, Richter, you’re sounding like some sort of revolutionary Utopian.

Oh well, there were places other than this, anyways. You’d have your chance to get back- and in a way that could hurt her in her own environment. When the time came. For now, you thought as you felt the winter air kiss your face again upon going out the main doors, you had better things to take care of.

-----

The rest of yesterday had been spent on simple inventory, checking that the repairs were going, boring busybody stuff. With you having to take up normal secretarial duties once more (another hurdle to stumble over not having two familiar fingers for), the rest of the day after getting back from Perlowieza filled up neatly, and you hadn’t even eaten when it was time for you to go to sleep, something you fell into refreshingly easily. You hadn’t seen your officers during that time, but for once, that was absolutely fine. Was it proper for a career soldier to not lament having no enemy to fight?

There’d be an enemy soon enough, whether you liked it or not, was what you reminded yourself.

When you got up, you caught Anya staggering about, leaning on the walls, but she was at the very least properly dressed. Her uniform was back on her, boots on her feet, and the black leather jacket you’d bought her hung on her shoulders, though her shirt hadn’t changed, still, tucked into her trousers. Could she even take it off?

“Good morning,” you strolled up next to where she was leaning on a wall.

“Told you,” she said, attempting to be smug, but the grimace on her face told you that this wasn’t exactly an enjoyable activity. “What’s up.”

“I talked to the High Protector yesterday,” you said, propping yourself against the other wall, “He wants to invite you to another party.”

Anya made a face at that. “Yeah, I dunno, much as I wanna break that whore’s face again, I’m thinking that’s not really my style to just go to.”

“You’ve been requested personally. It’s a great honor,” you insisted, “It’s better than breaking the Duchess’s face.”

“Eh.” Anya sighed, “I guess there’s the food.”

“Oh, the King wanted your measurements.” Anya stared at you. “For a dress. Made and fitted for you, presumably.”

“I can’t remember ‘em,” Anya said blankly, “Gonna need some broad to help with that, because fuck getting you or some other guy to do it. Borsch Cunt bit the dust, where’s that glasses girl? Probably need her help for my hair, too, huh.”

You didn’t know where Yva was, actually, though you presumed Von Metzeler did. It had been a day, and you hadn’t been attacked, at least. She still certainly wouldn’t be happy to see you. “I talked to Wladysaw about his cousin, too. What she did to you.”

Anya gave you a sharp glare. “Told you to keep out of that shit, retard.”

Her tune would change, you thought as you hefted the bag you were bringing out. “I didn’t start anything. Wladysaw felt terrible about it, though. Enough that he sent along a present. One thousand Union Marks.”

“A…” Anya slumped against the wall, eyes wide, and slipped down it to her rear on the floor. “A…A thousand?” She practically croaked, “What…what the fuck?”

“You did save his life,” you pointed out dully.

“It’s a thousand marks, what the fuck, do you know how much that is?”

“A thousand. He gave you gold earrings before, you didn’t seem as impressed then.”

“That’s not-“ Anya choked, and tried to crawl back up the wall again to her feet. “Whatever. Should I really be getting paid to get the shit kicked out of me?”

“Knock it off and take the money,” you chided Anya, “We’re going to the Spout Market today to spend this.”

Anya stared again, but there wasn’t the shock of last time. “We’re?”

“Yes.”

“Going to want more people for that place,” Anya grumbled, “Especially if I’m gonna be literally Miss Moneybags carting around a purse snatcher’s wet fuckin’ dream.”

“It didn’t seem that unsafe.”

“It’s still Sosaldt, and you were moving with Hogs, yeah? Nobody’s gonna mess with you then. You’ll wanna be able to swagger a little when we get there. Might even get better deals.”

“I found a couple of cases of women’s underwear too. Those sell decently, don’t they?”

Anya squinted at you. “You got a problem we need to talk about?”

“Shut up. It was enemy materiel, captured in the field.”

Anya shrugged. “Whatever. Let me look through it first though, there might be things in my size. Where are they?”

“I’ll let you look through them while I get the other stuff ready,” you said, “You’ve been there before?”

“A while ago.” Anya said, “It’s not like you go there alone and get mugged or kidnapped or whatever, but it’s where mercs and gun runners hang out. It’s good to look tough. You know, not like you.”

“Yes, I’m sure the mercenaries and criminals will tremble at the sight of the fluffy headed creampuff.”

“Shut up,” Anya snapped at you.

As you guided Anya to where the misappropriated underclothing was being stored, you thought about the other potential things to sell too. The armored cars? Potentially, but those lacked wheels- they couldn’t even be towed. The combat cars, perhaps, if you brought them. You did have three, after all.

>Who and what to bring to the Spout Market? Remember that taking vehicles will require fuel.

>>4334983
>>Who and what to bring to the Spout Market? Remember that taking vehicles will require fuel.
Bring our crew and the surviving Hogs at the very least; if Metzeler/Krause and their crews want to come it's fine as well.
As for vehicles bring a couple of cargo trucks and all the combat trucks; we still have plenty of unspent RP for fuel and we probably need some form of armoured escort for the journey.
Tanq how far is the Market from here again?

>>4334983
Bring the whole Archduchy crew!
Group shopping trip!
Go in a car big enough to fit every.

>>4335004
>>4335018
Supporting. Also maybe consider taking off the bandages for this one, around mercs displaying our wounds may make people reconsider fucking around with us.

>>4334983
>>4335018
Oh and invite Yva too.
We really can't put off talking to her anymore. Somebody needs to take Anya's measurements.

>>4334983
>>Who and what to bring to the Spout Market? Remember that taking vehicles will require fuel.
All of our tankers and the necessary transport, don't forget to go armed as well even with a ruined hand.

>>4335004
>Tanq how far is the Market from here again?
A good 70 kilometers out, so a bit of a drive. Thankfully the fuel consumption is more for the tanks as gas guzzlers, since trucks consume significantly less- I want to say a third of the cost.
>we probably need some form of armoured escort for the journey.
Perhaps, but the advantages of long range driving are that you can cut out of the border zone to better secured roads. Not that insurgents necessarily care about what's meant to be, of course.

>>4335206
How many vehicles would we need to carry our Strossvalders and the Hogs plus cargo?

>>4335212
All of them, counting officers and retinue?
Well, there's twenty crew, three officers including you, and one retinue. So that's twenty four. The Combat Cars each seat five, and the trucks can cram about a dozen people in the back of them, more if they get good and close, with the cabin giving another two or three seats. So minimum, two of the medium cargo trucks, I'd say.

>>4335236
Alright then I'll change it to bringing all three of the cargo trucks as well then, considering we might have to haul stuff/people back

>>4334983
I say we leave at least one officer and tank crew behind, just in case they are needed. Otherwise bringing the remaining tank crews and officer sounds good. I think bringing one combat car and two cargo trucks should be plenty, any space left that is not occupied in the vehicles should have a Ellowian in it, just for some extra security for watching the vehicles or watching peoples backs.
I am kinda afraid that the remnants of those mercs we scattered might be held up at the Sprout Market, but maybe we can smooth over any troubles with our charm and wit. And maybe some of the money.

>>4335018
>>4335023
>>4335035
>>4335246
Haul out everybody for a vacation, then. The infantry lieutenants can take care of themselves.

>>4335344
Draw out of a hat to pick a bunch to stay home.

Writing.

In the end, you didn’t plan for a fight- not one that couldn’t be won with a fair minimum of relative force, at least. A single combat car would do, as an escort, a pair of the medium cargo trucks. That would fit the roughly twenty four people you planned to bring along, which consisted of all your crew and officers, should they volunteer, though it was doubtful that they’d want to sit about here anyways. There wasn’t very much to do besides drill the troops, and the lieutenants and NCOs could handle that well enough on their own. Your crews, as well as the mercenaries attached to you, had better places you could be while work was finished on the tanks that you earned your pay with.

Save one person in particular.

As you left Anya with the briefcases and only lingered long enough to watch her click one open and practically toss everything inside about looking for what she could pick out of it, shooting a snide remark about one set “looking good on your girlfriend’s fat ass,” you realized that you couldn’t put off talking to Yva anymore, not if you planned on dragging Von Metzeler along, at least. She could be taken too, if it came to that, even if as far as most were concerned she was an odd civilian find among revolutionary insurgents rather than a very powerful and dangerous sorceress. Not more powerful and dangerous than Poltergeist, as had been proven before your eyes, but the latter did consider her a threat to his being, which was unique among any soulbinder the mysterious Poltergeist had regarded.

Last you’d seen her, she had been a bloody, shredded corpse, but Soulbinders didn’t actually stay dead, from what you’d heard. Not that there was any reason to doubt it, but damn if Yva didn’t seem more mulch than person when you had laid her to rest. Von Metzeler hadn’t been told about that, of course- no less because it was your own obstruction of her that allowed Poltergeist to start a fight with the upper hand, despite your earnest request to show leniency. A lesson; soulbinder leniency was still brutal indeed.

“Krause,” you addressed your subordinate officer as you approached him at the makeshift headquarters that had been set up in the tenement building’s former lounge, no salutes or address of rank needed between you now. Who was there to be offended by the lack of decorum? He turned, and waved with an uneasy look at your wounded face.

“Morning, Richter. Getting better?”

“I’m about as much better as I’m going to get,” you said, with resignation, “Do you know where Von Metzeler is?”

Krause snickered at that.

“…Not this early in the morning?”

“No, she’s not in the cottage anymore, but he took her food just a little bit ago.” Krause’s smirk disappeared as quickly as it came, “I don’t know what happened, but Rondo’s pretty bent out of shape. Said she came back with one arm the other day.”

“One arm?” you echoed, wondering if you should feign ignorance for the better of everyone.

“Well, one arm, again.” Krause shook his head, “She’s something weird, I knew that, Rondo’s too honest a sort to not say if something strange is up, but he really needed a smoke, I can say that.”

“I’ll have to go and give my condolences. Did she get taken to the clinic, or a hospital?”

Krause shook his head quickly, “Nah, nah, didn’t need it, apparently.”

“Mm.” You already knew, of course, but the wrong impression would have been easy to give off. “I planned to take all the crew and mercenaries, officers too, over the border today. The western one. There’s a town called the Spout Market I want to visit. Are you interested? It’s…well, a market. Smuggling, apparently, in the old days, and it’s ballooned with the establishment of the Border Zone. I want to take all of us, but if anybody doesn’t want to go, I won’t force them.”

“Leaving it all up to the lower officers? You’re really fixing for a promotion soon, huh?”

“Well,” you grimaced and coughed, “It’d be nice, at least.”

“You want me to drag Grumpus out of bed?”

“You’re calling him…” a pause, “No, I’ll do it. I need to talk to Yva anyways, I need somebody to take Anya’s measurements, and she refuses to let a man do it, of course. She’s going to have a new dress made for her for a party at the end of the week.”

Krause gave you a look that was some alchemical mixture of incredulity and smugness, his mouth contorting into a bizarre wavy line. “Richter, come on. You spoil her like this and wonder why the rumors fly. Even Rondo isn’t as bad as you, with his predilection for bookish dorky girls and him spending all his free time with one.”

“It’s the King spoiling her this time, actually,” you corrected, “The High Protector. This is rather a secret, so keep tight lipped, but he’s to honor her with a dance.”
“How scandalous, royalty taking a mercenary for a round on the floor. What will become of civilization?” Krause laying it on thick, as a lowborn. “Good for her, though.”

“…Predilection, though?” You asked Krause.

“Yeah. His past two girlfriends were both mousy, nearsighted sorts. His parents didn’t like either of them though. Made him break it off. You ever have a girlfriend, Von Tracht? Not that the academy people said anything good about that.”

“…Uh,” No. “That doesn’t matter. I have a fiancée now, and she has no competition for her place.”

“Fine, fine,” Krause raised his hands, looking down and smiling slightly again, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get everybody ready, go yank Rondo and Yva off the roof. That’s where she likes to sit now, he says.”

“Thanks.” Shame about the cottage, really. It was nice to visit, no matter who was in it. The view of the UGZ couldn’t have exactly been a pretty one.

-----

When you went up to the roof, Yva was sitting on a chair, set up for her, looking out as Von Metzeler stood next to her. The latter noticed you as you came up, and turned about to salute stiffly.

“Von Tracht.” Von Metzeler had a grave look on his face. “Greetings. Are you recovering well?”

“Well enough.” You glanced at the back of Yva’s head, then moved around her- she stared out into the distance, her spectacles conspicuously missing. She looked…defeated. Her eyes were dull, her sleeve hung empty, blowing in the wind. Poltergeist had taken her wooden arm- messily, and there was nothing to replace it.

“…Hello?”

Yva’s eyes snapped to you before she turned her head slowly, a tired, weary look on her face. “…Why..?”

“Why?”

Von Metzeler frowned at you, but remained silent.

“Why were you there?” Yva demanded, voice thin and quiet, “Qhy did you get in the way,” Yva settled into herself, looking down into her lap, her arm limp at her side, “Why didn’t he kill me?”

>You asked him not to, and she ought to be thankful. You didn’t claim to be on any sides in whatever this was.
>Do you have to say anything? She was always completely secretive. You could keep your secrets.
>Demand that if you’re going to talk, she’d best talk first. (About what?)
>Other?

>>4335837
>You asked him not to, and she ought to be thankful. We were there dealing with that thing we had asked for her help with; when she refused, we were left with no choice but to ask for help from him instead. She should have just stayed out of it entirely if she wasn't going to help.

>>4335837
>You asked him not to, and she ought to be thankful. You didn’t claim to be on any sides in whatever this was.
>Other? "You seem disappointed. Don't tell me whatever brand of wizard nonsense you favor has some sort of rule against living after a defeat."

>>4335885
Support

>>4335883
This

>>4335883
>>4335837
Supporting this mostly, just axe the part about she ought to be thankful for it.

She did just lose an arm and likely that weapon was her entire purpose for being. I think earlier she mentioned she paid a very high price for her arm that she came to regret.

>>4335837
>>You asked him not to, and she ought to be thankful. You didn’t claim to be on any sides in whatever this was.

>>4335883
+1.
Also this quest seems to have a predilection for missing arms and mutilated faces.

>>4335837
This >>4335883 plus this >>4336038
Also, is Richter still able to grasp a pen well enough to handwrite letters? We should make a point of pickling those fingers soon, just in case there's any spooky juju Maddy or anybody else concerned might want them intact for.

>>4336112
tanq has no eyes or arms, it's why it takes him so long to write between updates ;P

>>4336330
Hell, bring them with us. There might be some Glockenblume diehards down at the market interested in buying a pair of slightly used fingers

>>4336330
>Also, is Richter still able to grasp a pen well enough to handwrite letters?
Oh yeah. You can write just fine without your pointer or middle finger. It's one of the limited things he can still do without them.
His handwriting will take a dip, however.

>>4335883
>>4335885
>>4335931
>>4335948
>>4336038
>>4336091
>>4336112
>>4336330
Up front with it for once, it seems.
Writing.

>>4336112
>Also this quest seems to have a predilection for missing arms and mutilated faces.
Viska was just a sign of what was to come. And now she's a corpse, watch out.

>>4336330
His left hand is fine, though one could also adjust their grip to hold a pen different. Speaking of, the way I write, I don't use my index or middle finger either because I am some extant breed of goblin that refused to learn to hold a writing utensil correctly even when specifically instructed.
Drawing never ever

>>4336382
I knew the pics in the quest were too good for you to draw them. Release the drawslaves from your basement immediately!

You were undeserving of that bitterness in her voice, but you held your tongue on how grateful this perfidious wench should be to you. “I asked him not to,” you said flatly.

“You asked him,” Yva half spat, half laughed, “You asked The Specter of Time to do something, and he listened. Then you got on a boat and sailed through the Maelstroms to Zhantao to capture a dragon, I take it.”

“Believe me or don’t,” you rolled your eyes, “You wouldn’t help me with my duel so I turned to him. You could have stayed out of it entirely if you didn’t come to help me.”

Yva stared at you with wide, shocked eyes, like you had suddenly burst into flames. “What…you have no idea, you truly do not. I didn’t come for you, I came for that abomination. He and his ilk cannot be allowed to walk the earth. The implication that you have command over such a thing is as ludicrous as it is inexplicable that you actually might.”

“I don’t command him,” you said impatiently, “I don’t give a damn about what he is, and what you are, or any of this nonsense. I’m happy to be as ignorant as I am. I don’t have some ulterior unknowable motive like all of your lot have for some god damned reason, he owes me a favor, and I demanded he let you live because you’re Von Metzeler’s friend.”

“…” Yva fell silent for a mysterious moment on that last comment, but muttered soon after, “Owes you a favor. What could that creature possibly want that you have?”

Actually telling her would be dangerous, of course. “You’ve not told me anything in a similar vein. Do you expect me to give you what you think is an uneducated guess anyways?”

Von Metzeler cleared his throat. “…As much as I enjoy watching you two bicker…I must stand between you now…Yva,” he put his hand on the mousey woman’s shoulder, and her defensively raised shoulders fell right away, “…You never spoke of that arm as though it was anything you wanted…Do you truly miss it..?”
Yva was quiet again, before she settled back, a nasty scowl still on her face. “It was not mine to lose.”

“Anyways,” best to get out of this damned circle of shooting back and forth about what you were supposed to know. Even without her sword-arm or whatever the hell it was, you had no doubt that Yva was still an incredibly deadly soulbinder- that she had maybe lost the ability to defeat one such as Poltergeist meant about as much to the common person as a tiger missing a tooth, when asked to wrestle one unarmed. “I’m taking everybody, the people from the Archduchy and the mercenaries, to the Spout Market. If you don’t want to come along, I won’t make you. She can come, too, if she wants.”

That nasty scowl on Yva’s face didn’t leave, and without her spectacles, it was like a completely different woman had replaced her. Von Metzeler noticed this too, and his eyes flicked to her, then back to you. “…I am uncertain as to what she would want that is there, to be frank...”

“I myself am going to be looking for prosthetics,” you glanced mournfully at your fingers, closed them into half a fist, “It’s Sosaldt. You never know what you could find.”

Von Metzeler’s expression did not change. “…The most advanced prosthetics come from Grossreich, and they are not the sort of luxury to come as far as this…though I admit…” he looked at his own stump, “I cannot help but be curious myself…"

“I will remain here,” Yva said flatly.

“That’s fine,” you said readily, a hint of relief trickling in to your head, “Anya wanted to see you, before we went. She needs help having her measurements taken, her hair done, eventually…”

“That is more difficult to do with one hand than you think,” Yva glared at you, darkly.

“I’m sure you have some sort of sleight of hand trick. You’re so angry at me, for saving you,’ you added in irritation, “Don’t tell me whatever flavor of wizard nonsense you’re a part of has some rule against living after a defeat?”

“My life would have been a fair trade for eliminating that creature from this planet. I had a singular chance, and now it is gone. Because you got in the way.” Yva grew no less hostile, and Von Metzeler put a hand on her shoulder again. “I’m alright.”

“…Will you be alright if I leave..?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“…That is not what I meant…”

Yva’s scowl slipped of her face, replaced by something approaching shame. “…I’ve already demanded much of you. I won’t demand more.”

Von Metzeler nodded, and stepped beside you next, “…Let’s go, then…”

As you went down the stairs off the roof, you couldn’t help but ask, “Demanded?”
“…My time and attention, of course.” Von Metzeler said, “I will not ask what happened, but she was very upset…she is better now…”

Fair enough. He was being evasive, but you couldn’t ask that he tell you everything. You had plenty you didn’t say to everyone, yourself.

-----

“The men’ve been given the situation,” Krause said as you returned with Von Metzeler and Anya, who had thrown the underwear she was searching through all over, necessitating a hasty reorganization of the materiel. “No going in groups of less than three. No prostitutes. No drinking or buying drugs. I’m surprised the mercenaries acquiesced so easily.”

“They have a level of professionality,” you said.

“A level? More like, they’re the best in the damn continent,” Anya said haughtily, “Reputation’s everything when you’re a merc. You think anybody wants to hire the Itchy Dick Dopeheads? Guess again.”

“…Perhaps some would, depending on what they want done…” Von Metzeler said, frowning at something. “…The place is at the western border, yes? We ought to be going now. This will be an all day trip, certainly. Have we the fuel? What vehicles are we taking..?”

“One of the combat cars, two of the medium trucks,” you said, “My crew has experience with the combat car. We’ll take that.” You had experience as well, though it was an incomprehensible nightmare of things that didn’t exist while the car drove over lands that didn’t exist. “You have the money, Sergeant?”

“’Course I do,” Anya scoffed, “I don’t know what the hell I’d blow a thousand marks on.”

“…A thousand marks..?” Von Metzeler echoed in wonderment.

“Medical expenses paid by the High Protector,” you supplied, “Von Metzeler made a good point. Let’s be off sooner rather than later. We’ll double back into occupied territory proper. The troop limitations don’t apply outside the Border Zone, we’ll be much less likely to run into insurgents or infiltrators the deeper in we are…

-----

Hours of driving and what idle conversation was shouted over the wind rushing over the open topped car later, you encountered the watch posts keeping an ostensible eye over the Spout Market…though when you investigated them, prepared to supply an investigation, they were empty. Abandoned. There hadn’t been an indication of a fight. You were concerned…until you asked the mercenaries their opinion.

“They’ve been paid off,” an Iron Hog said with a smile and a shrug, “Same as whenever we came up here to see what there was from the midlands. Even Ellowians can be corrupt with enough motivation, you think Twaryians and Netillians are going to be different? They’ve got other things to worry about that keeping a close eye on what’s coming in and out of there. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the guards were having a holiday over there, why risk your ass when you could profit, instead? Look around, they left and took all their things, in neat and tidy order. There’s nothing to worry about. Here, at least.”

Reassuring enough, and the mercenaries’ confidence was infectious. Without any further thought to it, you led them on towards that broad mountain pass, embraced between was the Spout Market. It hadn’t been so long since you passed through…yet as you approached, you could swear it had gotten larger. You recognized the tent and wagon districts that were indicative of temporary merchants, wandering traders, but there was new construction as well. The town had outgrown yet another palisade, and its defenses had increased proportionally as well. More merchants, more defenses, more people, more people to be fed and housed, clothed and entertained. The natural upward arc of economic growth, but how long would this be tolerated here? After all, the Ellowians surely only let it be because of its relatively small size. Already, this place had grown to be larger than New Jorgenstohn, and was surely much more densely populated.

Interestingly, there was one small section walled off from the rest, with an unfamiliar red and blue flag flying above it. Deep crimson below and azure above, with a four pointed white star in the upper half. Sosaldt wasn’t a place for flags- was it the Republic, or some other nation whom you didn’t recognize, with plenty of knowledge of vexillogy having floated out of your head. Judging by how some outward sections seemed to be separated, you further deduced, looking at them as you approached through binoculars, there must have been different bands of mercenaries here. Did they smell business? There was something in escorting traders, at least, though the Kommissariat, you knew, didn’t shy away from being a gainful employer either.

When you stopped a fair distance away from the town, a pair of plainly clothed people approached, one with a rifle slung on his back, the other carrying a clipboard. Your men, for their part, were all heavily armed. There weren’t about to be any chances taken, but thankfully, the common populace here apparently didn’t think differently.

“Ey, you,” the man with the clipboard, shaved bald, gestured to the car and the trucks, and the lot of you, “Are you all new here? Looks like Netillian gear, and all. You know the score, yeah?”

“They know the score,” one of the Iron Hogs called out for you, “Just get on with the survey or whatever!”

“Makes this easy then,” the man with the clipboard scribbled something down, “Ground rules, for a bunch your size. We do it simple, and we gotta review a lot now, because there’s been plenty ‘a new folks. So here’s the skinny. No funny business with the guns. You wanna shoot each other, take it the hell outside. If you want to start a fight, take it to the dueling square if you’re not playing around. If you fuck up the peace, we’ll keep you bonded here until you pay your fine. If somebody’s giving you trouble, don’t matter if you didn’t start it, don’t shoot up the place, the walls are thin. Find one of the guys in brown uniforms if you need to, but really, anybody else around ought to pressure the stupid people into not starting shit. All your money’s good here, but nobody here operates on credit except the Republic. Got it?”

“I understand.” You didn’t anticipate that you’d be the one to cause any trouble. “That flag,” you pointed off, “Who does that belong to?”

“The Republic of Mittelsosalia,” the clipboard man said, “They set up an outpost here a few days back. Apparently they’re buying up plenty of stuff and contracts. If you’re turning coat and selling your sword, see, they might be interested in taking you on.”

“Uh huh.” You didn’t really need to do that. “What if I’m looking for guns? Tanks? I have things I want to sell, too…”

“What do I look like, a tour guide? Look around your damn self.” The clipboard man gestured to his escort, and they both turned around to leave without another word. So much for a warm welcome.

“Ey, boss,” one of the Iron Hogs clapped you on the back as he passed with the rest of the lot, “No whores, but strip bar’s alright, yeah? Even a bum joint has some broads taking their clothes off. We’ll get back whenever.”

Apparently you were being told this, not asked, as the mercenaries sauntered off, chatting between themselves. Well, you sighed, as you took the bandages off your face to cut a more intimidating figure in this place where a nasty scar carried more clout than a crown, time to get searching.

>Take up to four rolls of 2d10 to look around for…well, whatever you want, whether it’s buyers or sellers. The first d10 indicates how good of a match you get, while the second is how rare or high quality the goods are. You probably won’t find, say, the Kaiser’s Crown Jewels, for example, but you might be surprised by what one can dig up in a place such as this with enough effort and luck. Make sure you say what you’re generally looking for with your roll vote. Anything too specific will be generalized for you. You can get a small bonus to rolls if you specify well enough where you're looking for whatever you want to do.

Rolled 10, 10 = 20 (2d10)

>>4336885

>>4336889
Nigga are you kidding me?

>>4336889
>>4336890
It's fine, just specify what you were looking for. It's not like you can fish for rolls with a limited number anyways.

>>4336909
Not gonna lie, I was just looking for a gun for Anya.
Might have gone a bit over kill here.

wew

Rolled 1, 9 = 10 (2d10)

>>4336885
I don’t know if Anya’s gift gun is sitting in a regular gun store, but in case it isn’t I would roll to look for a small holdout gun. Something like the derringer or kolibri or that single shot liberator thing they dropped into France. If the all the guns we would want to buy are all together, then can the roll be for some prosthetics?

Rolled 3, 8 = 11 (2d10)

>>4336885
Interesting prosthetics and face masks. Would be satisfied with the basics so our hand is more useful in grasping but more exotic options including magical ones would be fun to look at.
I guess the best place to look for this would be either the temporary merchant tents trying to pawn off junk or a local surgeon with outstandingly expensive bodyguards in the front.

>>4337076
Also if the guns get found together from what anon >>4337042 was saying
and instead becomes the prosthetics roll then my backup would be mercenaries specializing in raiding.
We never did burgle that Twaryian motor pool now did we?

>Richter funds a bunch of rare items that he doesn't need.
>Or that aren't for him.
Struggles.

Rolled 1, 6 = 7 (2d10)

>>4336885
Looking at tanks for sale, cheap.
Time to do some treadkicking, and to ignore anyone who "knows what they got"

>>4337285
>cannon has extra smooth rifling for easy cleaning! equipped with custom climate control system consisting of multiple 37mm ventilation holes in the turret. interior painted dark red by original owner. ran great when parked! no lowballers.

>>4336885
Just want to add besides searching for stuff we should probably drop by the outpost while we're at it

>>4336885
I know there's bee n4 rolls already, just want to remind that we want to find a buyer for the underwear.

So:
>>4336889
>>4337042
Good guns at least
>>4337076
Good prosthetics but likely not fingers/arms
>>4337285
Good tanks but expensive ones?

File: maddyinthemorning.png (785 KB, 796x1500)

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I live. Happy Burger Independence day, though I doubt tons of places are exactly going to have large scale fireworks shows anyways.

Anyways, writing now.
Not posting uncensored because I'm not Ceg and I don't just brazenly post frontal nudity on a blue board.

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>>4338863
berry niceu

>>4338863
Based.
Maddy is Cute!
C U T E

>>4338863
We need t omarry her faster before our dick gets melted off by ghosts or something

>>4338863
Damn. Somebody has to say it.
>TIRED LOOKING
> SKINNY, NO ABS
> WEAK
> SHOORT
> NO HONKERS
> CAN'T EVEN BUTTON SHIRT RIGHT
Just disgusting and terrible. Anya is better.

>>4339888
But anon apart from the abs, Anya is all of those things too now!

>>4339888
Did you mean
>Charmingly vulnerable
>Lithe and graceful
>Refined
>Dainty
>Slim and elegant
>Sexily half-clothed
?

Sorry for the delay folks. Don't mess with your sleep schedules. It'll be out soon.

>>4339888
>TIRED LOOKING
It's morning, she's not even had ___tea yet, of course she's sleepy.

Anya’s money was carried by your men, despite her protests- she might have been able to walk, or rather, stumble and stagger, but expecting her to carry that heavy load of coinage in addition to the gun she slung over herself was intolerable, and you didn’t have to say it, as Malachi took it without a word. Most people, Anya would give no shortage of lip, but whether it was his near unintelligible speech or his mysterious look, she only snapped off one sharp objection before accepting that she would be being served today.

The first thing to look for would be something for Anya- and she was told of this, which certainly put a spring in her step as you trundled about the town, visiting the various merchants and gunsmiths for what they had to offer. Anya was a person simple enough to buy a preferred gun for, when one thought about it. She was a short and slim woman, despite the well trained muscle she was so proud of, she was still small, so she wasn’t very fond of long weapons like rifles or machine guns. Submachineguns, and recently, the stubby but powerful Munitions Caster had been her favorites. Despite launching a 3.7 centimeter shell, the handheld Munitions Caster had some curious gas mechanism that actually reduced what might otherwise be significant recoil, not that you’d ever deigned to fire one off. She also had a fondness for smaller, concealable weapons- when you first encountered her she’d been sly enough to hide a razor blade in the waistband of her underwear, and she’d apparently smuggled explosives into what was supposed to be a mere meeting and held a group in Todesfelsen hostage, so that she used said concealed means was easy enough to grasp. With such in mind, you picked through, looking for something Anya might like, with her along to judge.

What you at first thought was a dusty old hovel turned out to be a pair of trailers rebuilt into one another, though its wheels were long gone. Outside was a sign- Zadek-Gunsmith. A gunsmith? Not some reseller or smuggler? Interesting. You pushed your way through a heavy steel door that felt more durable than the walls of the place by far, and found yourself in a cluttered armory, bright lights illuminating dust in the air, which there was quite a bit of, though the products themselves had been recently brushed off.

“Ey, one ‘a you at a time in here, an’ keep ye hends off ze stuff wit’out me about, or ah’ll shoot ye,” a thick eastern accent slurred, and you heard the ring of a glass bottle being set down. “Urp.” You waited patiently while everybody else shrugged and left, a fair trade off to the man carrying out his threat, as the man hobbled over. He was in his late middle age, yet he was already leaning heavily on a cane, you noted of the deeply tanned, grey haired and full bearded man.

“…Are you Zadek?” you asked.

“Ayeh. Who’re you supposed t’ byeh?” The man hobbled up and grabbed your chin, tilting it to the side, “Nice face.”

“…Thanks?”

“Hrmf. So wha’re ye lookin’ fer, you want somethin’ made, ‘s a month out ‘fore I get started, s’ get lost if that’s it.”

“No, I mean,” you were caught off guard by this drunkard’s presumptiveness, but found your balance as you listed off what you thought Anya would prefer. “I need something short, that packs a punch. Small and handy.”

“Hmrph.” Zadek nodded, “I’er ‘ere.” His cane clunked about as he led you among the clutter to a case that, once you were close enough that the shadows beneath the stark bright lights didn’t hide it all, you saw that in these cases, was a lineup of quite short weapons. Not even carbine length, but things sawn down as short as possible. “Pick that one up,” he pointed to one as he leaned on his stick, “Self-loading shotgun, twelve bore. Y’know what that means?”

“…Vaguely.” Something to do with how many pieces of lead shot fit in a shell. Damn, you should have known.

“Means tha’ it’s a mean son of a bisch to be sho’ wit’,” Zadek said haughtily. “Three shells in th’ tube, one in th’ chambyeh. No thing stays up after that much.”

“Does it kick hard?”

“Aye, but ye’ can load lighter wid' th' lighta' bolt, aye?”

“What about that one?” you asked, pointing to a similar looking gun in the same row.

“Same thin’, but wit’ eight mill’meter. Feels diff’.”

Different would certainly be one way of putting it, you thought warily. Even in your current state you knew that a shotgun shell and a rifle bullets behaved completely differently, especially out of a barrel no longer than the span from your wrist to your elbow, if that. Maybe between that and half. “…Alright, what about something that can fit in your pocket?”

“…Eh.” Zadek was less enthusiastic about that, “Pocket? A’right, c’mon.” He led you to…a case of knives.

“I was thinking more guns, really.”

Zadek snorted at that, and you felt his cane thwack you on the back of your head. “Look clos’eyr, they’re guns, an’ kneyves too.”

A cold grumble that failed to form any words tried to escape your lips as you picked up the knife. Indeed, on either side of the blade, was a small aperture- for some sort of small bullets. Zadek guided you in partially disassembling it, a necessary procedure for loading, and pointed out the foldout trigger lever, fired by squeezing it on the handle once it was reversed. All in all, these seemed like things Anya would probably like…so you called her in, after telling Zadek about who the real customer was.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that she was hauling all three of those things out.
>Anya has acquired a ZS-4, a ZR-4, and a .22 Knife Derringer

“I thought you’d be at least a little more frugal,” Stein squinted at the sack Anya was carrying, which rattled with ammunition as well as the main purchases.

“I haggled him down!” Anya said defensively, “What he wanted at first was crazy, I’m not so stupid I’ll buy what these clowns give as the first price.”

“Haggled down how?” Hans asked suggestively, “You give him a show?”

“What, so he can pretend to be generous after I’ve pulled out the last I’ve got right off the bat?” Anya sneered, “Said who I’ve been with. That’s worth respect, y’know. Helps to let them know you know what a good deal is.”

“And how much did you spend?” You asked Anya warily.

“A hundred and twenty.”

“God damn,” Hans whistled, “How much did he want before that?”

“Three hundred. Knew I was loaded, hard not to tell, huh? Hey, give that back!” She protested as Stein took the canvas bag of guns from her.

“No.” Stein said, tiredly, “Call it payback.”

“Payback for what?” Anya complained, stumbling after all of you as you moved along.

It was a long shot to find prosthetics, but Anya insisted that plenty of mercenaries lost chunks of themselves, so anywhere they were known to gather, somebody would be around to provide. As lucky as you got with finding a gunsmith with plenty of what Anya wanted, however, the search for prosthetics was draining, and dreary. When you asked around, most assumed you were looking for legs for some reason, not hands and arms, let alone fingers. Once you had been directed to the same places twice, you grew exasperated and gave up. The best you had gotten was a couple of eye patches, that you got just to have spares of, as to not be suddenly running about with somebody’s clothing on your face again for some godforsaken reason.

“Cheer up, boss. Short stuff won’t mind you having to use something other than those, eh?”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so all you did was shake your head. You did run into Von Metzeler, looking about for the same thing you did, with just about as much luck, from his expression, but he had actually found something in an odd antiques and contraptions stand, run by somebody who had no idea what the junk they hawked actually was.

“…They think it is a model of some sort, but there is an attachment point for a prosthetic arm…” Von Metzeler said to you, his eyes darting about- was it the Fear, still stronger in him than it was in you now? “…It is of fantastic quality, and its price is far below what a genuine replacement limb would be otherwise, in such, however…it is of little use to me without an arm, and little use to you with most of your hand intact…”

It didn’t feel intact, you thought as you looked down at you right hand, but you ought to be thankful for small blessings. “I’m going to look for tanks. Can you look for something for me? I’m interested in finding some mercenaries. Ideally raiders.” Krause was set to selling off the cases of underclothing, by your assignment. He said he knew a thing or two about finding what people wanted, and you trusted that, for how he seemed to find himself in possession of what was technically contraband back at base, albeit with small luxuries.

“…There are no shortage of mercenaries, but…do you recall how much a tank costs, Von Tracht..? Even…secondhand..?”

“No.” Another thing you ought to know but didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to have a reminder.

“…New, they cost tens of thousands…even here, I doubt anything of quality would be less than multiple thousands. They are expensive machines…”

“Of course, but, well,” you glanced off to the Republic Outpost, “I’m thinking of something.”

After all, the Iron Hogs under your command, though their officers and tanks were gone, were contracted by the Republic. How far you could take that was a question left to be asked, though thousands of marks in purchases wasn’t likely to be a note that Mittelsosalia would like to receive without warning…

That said, when you looked about, while there were tanks and armored vehicles sitting about, they largely weren’t for sale, inquiries into such earning cockeyed glares from the mercenaries guarding them. You must not have looked like you could afford their services, let alone buying out their equipment, which couldn’t have been terribly easy to procure in the first place. In your memories you recalled an Arsenal South that manufactured cheap knockoffs of armor designs, and that must have been what these mercenaries were equipped with, but even a cheap tank was still a mechanically complex and intricate machine with no shortage of equally expensive subsystems beneath the tractor covered in steel armor.

Once again, the actual people with the goods weren’t where you found an option, though you weren’t sure of how much you liked the potential quality of where you’d found a tank for sale, finally. It was in the hands of a junk-trader, along with the hulls and hulks of several other vehicles, in various stages of being skeletons, or looking like crow eaten corpses, their mechanical innards practically spilling out, perhaps in advertisement. There was one thing that did stick out, however, and it was indeed a tank- or rather, half of one.

“Where’s the turret?” you asked the junk hawker who showed you it. You couldn’t tell what sort of tank it was at a glance. Blocky, large…a T-15, perhaps? Yet its turret was completely gone, and from what you could tell, so was the infrastructure that would have supported one.

“Somebody else bought it,” the merchant said dismissively, through much drapery around his face and neck, “Do you want it or not? Four thousand.”

Four bloody thousand. You certainly couldn’t just trade straight across for that.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” you muttered as you turned away. It was rather likely, you learned, that the more expensive things around here had been sitting for quite a while because of the tendency of merchants here to not haggle down in hopes of the high traffic here bringing in people who would pay a heavy price. Best to finish the business of reconnaissance before you made a costly decision.

So far, not so good, you thought as you rested with your men in the busy square, the day already having passed well into afternoon. At least Anya was happy, you thought as you saw her messing with the sawn-off automatic shotgun. It was a good size for her, but would she be able to handle it? No, you already knew that she’d adapt to it, out of sheer stubbornness alone. Von Metzeler found you after you had idled some time away, eating something that you had no idea of the contents of, but was some sort of oil-fried bread with sweetened gristle dispersed through it.

“…What is that..?” Von Metzeler asked of what you were eating.

“I have no idea.”

“…” Von Metzeler sighed and sat across from you, next to Malachi, without much consideration. “…Have you found what you were looking for..?”

“There’s a tank hull with engines and treads, but no turret or gun.”

“…So no…”

“Maybe.”

“…In any case,” Von Metzeler continued, some tiredness leaking in to the ends of his sentences, “Most of the mercenaries here are already under contract…more than a few of them to the Republic, now. I found a band that came in recently…though perhaps we’re more familiar than we’d like to be…”

Oh. “The band that we fought a few days back, then.”

Von Metzeler nodded. “…They did not recognize us, not that this town would allow a violent quarrel, anyways. Again, however, I doubt we have the money to employ them for a significant period of time…”

“Wrighsh dem ub on buh shame contracgh duh Hogs gob,” Anya piped up, mouth full of crap food.

Von Metzeler ignored her. “…Have you visited the Republic Outpost yet..?”

“Not yet,” you replied, “I’m deciding on what I might want to request help with, and what I don’t want anyways. What did those mercenaries have left after what we did to them and on their way here?”

“…Their tank, and an armored car…two dozen riflemen…They’re quite a hardened lot by now, I would suppose…”

That sounded like most of what they had before. They managed to take it all this way? Interesting.

>Vote for what to go for. If an option doesn’t get half or more of the tallies in a vote, then it won’t go through. This only applies for what to procure, however.
The list of what has been found-
>A Mechanical Hand- surprisingly intricate, and for surprisingly little money.
>A T-15 Tank Hull, with internals…but no turret, or seemingly, easy capacity to mount one.
>Sosaldtian Mercenaries, in need of employment, but perhaps not with the best history.
Besides that, you can take “Other” actions, as well. If you go for something you can’t properly afford, without perhaps trying to use your remaining money in some way, it can be assumed you’ll try and deal with the Republic on that, unless you have an alternative sponsor in mind. Krause hasn't been found with his profit, yet, but he's estimated a haul of about one hundred, depending on who he can find.

>>4340251
>A Mechanical Hand- surprisingly intricate, and for surprisingly little money.
I don't think we need funding from the Republic for anything but I'd like to get any updates from Sosaldt or Strossvald. Also to settle mail if possible (letters for home, informing the Hogs about Ilger and Eakova etc.)

>>4340251
>A Mechanical Hand- surprisingly intricate, and for surprisingly little money.
Maybe we'll find or make an arm for Metz later.

>A T-15 Tank Hull, with internals…but no turret, or seemingly, easy capacity to mount one.
If we can find a field or AT gun, we can turn it into an assault gun/tank destroyer. Maybe take an autocannon from a combat car and a turret mount from an armored car. Otherwise, we can turn it into a mortar carrier or an APC.

>>4340251
>Addendum: look for AT (or any, really) cannons on sale.

>>4340251
>A Mechanical Hand- surprisingly intricate, and for surprisingly little money.

>>4340251
>A Mechanical Hand- surprisingly intricate, and for surprisingly little money.
Seems like the only other worthwhile thing available.

>>4340251
>>A Mechanical Hand- surprisingly intricate, and for surprisingly little money.
Why not if it's cheap

>>4340269
>>4340309
>>4340320
>>4340337
Lend a hand.

>>4340300
Pay for a hull.

>>4340302
Addendum to look further.

Writing.

“…Eh,” you sighed, “I’m not interested in the mercenaries, or the tank, anymore.” If only Anya had offloaded a little luck onto everything else you had haphazardly scrounged for. “Hey, Anya,”

“Whaff?”

“…Swallow your food before speaking, how old are you that you do not know to do that…” Von Metzeler said, annunciating himself clearly.

“Schallow a dichk.” Anya snorted back. “Whaff.”

“Lend Von Metzeler some money so he can buy a fake hand.”

Von Metzeler squinted at you, “…I don’t particularly want it…”

“It’s cheap, right? So why not? Try to look around for…I don’t know, antitank guns, cannons, while I’m away.”

“Whatever,” Anya left her canvas bag with you after gulping down what was in her mouth, “C’mon, Five Fingers, we’ve got a fist to find.”
Despite Anya’s troubles with walking without stumbling all over, she still managed to surprise Von Metzeler enough to start dragging him away despite the vast difference in size between them, leaving you with your crew as Von Metzeler’s own hastily followed after him. Five Fingers…did that make you Eight Fingers? That wasn’t a name you wanted added to the expanding repertoire of things to call you besides your name or rank.

Speaking of being referred to a different name, you got up to find the people who did refer to you by a name you liked. Kommandant was about as official now as the sky was green, but it was never said with disrespect, despite the surly and rough nature of the bunch who often used the term. It’d be nice to hear it again.

-----

“What the fuck do you want sauntering in here, shit-face?”

…

“…I’m the Kommandant. You know? I worked with, and work with, the Minister of the People.”

“Got any proof?” One of the trio at the entry to the outpost gave you a look that embodied skepticism in your claim, “I ain’t never seen nor heard of what the Kommandant looks like, but I’m pretty sure he don’t look like he’s half-assing pretendin’ to be a saltwater darkie.”

Now that was one you hadn’t anticipated. “…Listen, I have hundreds of men who could attest to who I am. Do you have a wire out here to anywhere? Just say that Richter Von Tracht is at your door, and your superiors will say to let me in. I just want to talk to your leader here, or hell, I’ll talk to you if I have to.”

“Nah. Piss off.” The guard rolled his eyes, “I’m not wasting my time with that.”

“I’m so sorry that I’m making you take valuable time out of standing around doing nothing,” you quickly grew exasperated, “Would you just ask your commander to come out?”

“Who’s this supposed to be,” a new voice said, coming from behind. It was a bored, tired voice, but one with a rather distinct accent you didn’t expect to hear here. “A spy?”

You turned around and saw a dark haired man, kept a little distance away by your crew. He was thin, and had sallow eyes, and a tired look despite it being the afternoon, but the tone of black hair and a slight heaviness to the upper lids of his eyes spoke of just a touch of far western heritage, combined with the accent, he must have been…a Dhegyar? You didn’t think you’d ever seen one in person before…

“What, is there something on my face?” His tone was as curt as it was dreary, “Plenty on your face. Just what do you want here?”
He wore the dark, chocolate brown uniform of the Republic, but that voice didn’t match the uniform at all, not unless the Republic had suddenly turned into the heart of the Grossreich.

“I’m a friend of the Minister of the People. I’m here to ask the head of this outpost about a few things.”

“Really.” The man yawned, and looked around at the lot of you. “Describe her.”

Easy enough. “She smokes, has brown hair and freckles. Wears an eyepatch over an eye. Has huge eyebrows. Her name’s Signy Vang, and her father was Sigmund Vang.”

“Has a chubby butt.” Hans added, snickering. Unnecessary.

“I didn’t actually care,” the Dhegyar man muttered, “But you’re clearly from the Archduchy. There’s pretty much nobody else that would come here besides who you say you are, especially not expecting anything more than either a boot in the ass or a stint in a cell being interrogated.”

You shifted defensively, despite the air of confidence you wanted to put on. “…So can I talk to your superior, or not?”

“I am the superior.” The Dhegyar said flatly. “You can come along with me. Your men can wait somewhere else.”

“Is that a good idea?” the guard that had been accosting you wondered aloud.

“If it isn’t, if he’s by himself, I can just knock his head in.” The Dhegyar said as tonelessly as before, “Just don’t let anybody in. No matter who they say they are.”

“Uh. Alright.”

The Dhegyar waved you along, and you went away from the outpost. Once you were relatively isolated, he looked around, back and to the sides, before leaning against a wall and clearing his throat. “You know there’s information brokers here, right? Don’t show yourself off so boldly, you don’t want anybody thinking they might have something that’s worth putting a price on.”

“Sorry.” You said nonchalantly, “But it’s not like they suspect anything at the moment. Officially.” Especially not when you’d vanished after having your conditioning wiped away, since you’d passed through here then too.

“Yeah. So don’t go around changing that, huh.” The Dhegyar man said coldly. “I’m called Covacs. I work for Griffon Company, who are employed by the Republic of Mittelsosalia. I’m up here looking around for my superior.”

“Is he around?”

“No.” Covacs said, crossing his arms. What a fun person to hang around. Utterly humorless. At least the no nonsense personality might have meant he’d get right to any points. “Why are you here? Nobody said anything about you coming here.”

>What to ask this representative of the Republic, now that you have his attention?

>>4340615
>>What to ask this representative of the Republic, now that you have his attention?

I was dropping by the Market for separate business; since this outpost was here I was hoping to get an update on news out west.
Anyway if we find your superior maybe I can have a conversation with him?

It's almost a shame von Neubaum isn't here, I'd imagine a reunion with Reinhold would be...interesting

>>4340615
>>4340664
This seems fine.

>>4340615
>What to ask this representative of the Republic, now that you have his attention?
So this outpost is fully manned by you Griffon Company guys? No natives from the Republic I can talk to?

>>4340664
This

Oh god, it's Covacs, it's finally happening aaaaaaa

>>4340615
>What to ask this representative of the Republic, now that you have his attention?
Have the Southern Cities been up to anything?
Anymore factions joining Mittelsosalia from Sosaldt?
Do they have a trustworthy postal service? We might want to send some messages either back home or to Signy about updates in Ellowie.
This outpost looks new, is it permanent or only to support a particular *Event* that might be coming up in two weeks or so?
Just how many mercenary companies have been hired by the Republic?

Lastly: Does the Republic need any help in this area?

>>4340615
>“Why are you here? Nobody said anything about you coming here.”
Who doesn’t love a surprise inspection from the Kommandant? But really the only things I can think to ask for is if there’s anything he knows about that might come up and bite us in the ass, and if he has some communication with Mittelsosalia that we can piggyback some letters home on. Maybe they even have a guy in Ellowie we can get into contact with so we don’t have to work anything out with that mayor.

>>4340664
>>4340677
>>4340721
Updates on the west.
Let me talk to your superior pls.
>>4340681
Can I talk to somebody who isn't descended from nomadic pillagers.
>>4341010
>>4341637
I need mail vitality pills.

Writing.

“I didn’t actually come here expecting you either,” you told this man called Covacs- was that his real name? Even Sosaldtians seemed to prefer nom de guerres half the time. “But this isn’t a surprise inspection from the Kommandant. I was on separate business, but since this outpost popped up here, I thought I’d come by and see how things were going. Is that outpost Griffon Company?”

“No.” Covacs replied flatly, “Only me.”

“Your superior isn’t around?”

“No.”

What a conversationalist. “So they’re Republic troops proper, then.”

“They wear the uniform for it, but they wouldn’t know much. My only task here is to collect enough information to brief my superior.” Covacs said, “They’re only here to facilitate sending things along. Equipment and contractors. Whatever can be procured from here.”

“Procurement, huh,” you echoed, “So the Republic is buying up a lot of what comes through here,” not everything, obviously, “And sending it back along? They need the materiel that much for…some particular event in two weeks or so?”

Covacs blinked at you. “I don’t know anything about that, but yes, it’s only the supply side of matters. Further would risk eastern interference, if you understand. I’m of the understanding that such is ideally to be evaded. Rallying more than one enemy against you is rather silly, after all.”

“You don’t happen to know what’s happening in Mittelsosalia, though, do you?” You veered back to the original subject, “The Southern Cities? Any other factions joining? How many mercenaries have been hired?”

“…It’s gonna be one of these, huh,” Covacs muttered to himself, “Fine. Currently, the Republic’s armies are stockpiling supplies and equipment, and assembling, planning. I don’t know much more than that, other than that they’re pointing north. The city states to the south you referred to collectively have banded into a sort of union; one that Mittelsosalia’s signed a treaty with. They’ve traded a trio of ports for their autonomy; and allowed for their mercenary bands to be hired. Of course, with all the money being thrown about, I don’t have high hopes for the place’s economy, but we’ll see what happens…if we live that long. Whatever.”

Covacs shrugged a very small rise of the shoulders, his head kept level, “That’s been the biggest news. I don’t keep up with every bit of newsprint that blows about, but it’s hard not to hear about the Treaty Ports. I have heard that there’s plenty of talks with the northern bands in Sosaldt. Some are banking on help from the Netillians, others think they can follow the Republic’s lead on their own, but they’re at each other’s throats lately as much as the Republic. Whatever mercenaries aren’t in their own gangs taking after their own interests are getting bought up by the Republic. Not as part of the Martial Conscription act or whatever, where anybody who was plying their trade as a mercenary in the Republic’s territory had to either stop and sell their materiel to the Republic Army, or join it. Pretty much everybody chose to join. They’re hiring what they can outside, too, which is what Griffon Company is.” A long sigh. “Is that about it?”

“No.”

“Mrrgh.” Something under his breath that sounded vaguely like This wasn’t worth the promotion.

“Does the Republic have a decently secure mail service? For correspondence with Sig…Cyclops…the Minister of the People, but also, I want to send things back home out of this country, and I’ve been barred from such, normally…”

Covacs stared at you, eyes dim and half closed, as though he was wondering why he existed at all. “…Considering the Kommandant has a close relationship with the Minister of the People, I guess any correspondences you want could be included with the normal things. Else I’d be thrown out for certain. I’ll be damned if you expect anybody to take anything to you, however.”

“Good enough.” You snapped up the opportunity, “I’ll have something for you right away. In exchange…is there anything I can do to help you? The Republic?”

“Don’t draw attention here. That’s all. If the Netillians decide to investigate here more thoroughly, we’ll have to pull out. I don’t think you can do anything about that, but if you hear about it, an advance warning would be nice, so we can leave instead of being thrown out with the trash.” The pessimistic officer…you were almost sure this man wasn’t a mercenary, somehow, asked for little, ultimately. Just what you’d been doing. A good trade for a renewed link to the outside.

“Another thing.” Covacs added quickly, “Don’t just…walk up to the outpost. Especially if you’re looking like that these days. Have the good sense to have somebody else take it up. So long as whoever you send says it’s from the Kommandant, I’ll have the people at the door take it.”

Thank goodness. Even if you wouldn’t be in the region much longer, another two weeks isolated again would have been intolerable. Should you send along letters this instant, you wondered…Of course you should. What a question. It wasn’t a case of would you, but how many…

>Your mail route has been restored. Who do you send off letters to (in case it's more than the two planned before), and what are their contents? You don’t have to be exact, but the general information within and mood is necessary.

Sorry again for the slow pace, just been in a creative muck in general lately. It'll get better once you're back out of here.

>>4342554
We need to send letters to Maddy, Richter's Parents, and to Hilda.
All of them should talk of some of our victories and that we're excited to see them again. All of them should also talk about how we got hurt and Rondo too.
Hilda and Maddy's letters should explain that we got hurt in the duel with Bertram but we'll be alright by the time they see Richter again.
Give extra love to Maddy in her letter. Nothing lewd just lovey dovey shit about how much we miss her.
Tease Hilda about how she better be able to read her letter by herself or it'll cause problems.

>>4342554
Don't worry about it bossman, the ebbs and flows of the pace are good to me.
>
Offer our regrets to Hilda about Bertram. The fact he is gone is a relief but we don't have to be dicks about it.

One thing we shouldn't put in these letters? Any secrets we don't want spilled. The duel and our injuries are fairly basic but we shouldn't say anything about the Silver Lances/Alpha Two/IO shenanigans/WIZARD BULLSHIT. Just because we have the mail back doesn't mean it isn't getting opened on the way.

>>4342789
>>4342797
Sounds about right

>>4342554
Besides letters to the usual people as anons have mentioned if anyone else of our guys wants to send stuff home add it to the pile as well.

>>4342554
Supporting >>4342789 >>4342797
Besides that we can leave already I think.

>>4342789
>>4342815
>>4342874
Fiancee, Mom, and...whatever the burnt thing is.
>>4342797
>>4342815
>>4342874
Sorry I gacked your brother, but it couldn't be helped. Keep mum about sensitive stuff.

>>4342837
Query about sharing the services.

Writing.

>>4342883
Damn, right as I get off work. We could have sent a letter for Signy to thank her for establishing such an upstanding mail service. And also to ask if her rich weird friend has any half face masks we could have to cosplay as the ghost of the kino with.

>>4342883
>Wife
>Mommy
>Bacon
All the important women in Richter

>>4342891
I can include this, no worries.

>>4342903
Nice, who said phoneposting doesn’t pay?

“I’ll, ah, be right back with what I need sent,” you said hastily, “…Can I send letters for other people too? My situation is shared by my officers, my crew…”

Covacs suddenly became quite annoyed. “Piss off. Do I look like a damned Kaiserkurier to you? I’m not doing this for the sake of my conscience. There’s plenty of people who miss others, but your letters are the ones I’m taking. Yours and yours alone, and no funny business. That’s final.”

At least you tried. Your crew were out here and in the dark about the true motives of the Intelligence Office, by order and necessity, so they didn’t even get an explanation as to why they couldn’t send to their families. “…Lighten up,” you muttered, “I’ll be right back.”

Procuring a paper and pen as soon as you could, as well as, surprisingly, envelopes, you found the nearest acceptable flat surface to write on and began your work. The burden of imminent death had been lifted off your shoulders like a leaden cape- perhaps not in reality, but at the very least, it wasn’t a personal affair. It was far, far easier to have confidence about your life in that.

Firstly, your parents- the Patriarch and Matriarch of Von Tracht, though such was not saying a lot at this point in time. You hadn’t sent them anything in a while, and whilst your father had sent you off to the academy with some confidence in your independence, your mother was never one to simply let you fly from the nest. Being an only child did that to one’s mother, you supposed.

Mother and Father,

I am writing to tell you that I have not left the world of the living yet, though I have been wounded, I am healthy and hale in spite of the best efforts of my foes. I intend to return home with all speed, and be treated to the meals I haven’t had in so long. If I am to request anything, I would like to have a Hunter’s Roast prepared the night I return.

A proper Hunter’s Roast required a day and a half of marinating, as well as smoking, of various ingredients including venison, red breasted pigeon and apples. It wasn’t something that could be whipped up in an evening, but you hoped that you wouldn’t just be crashing the door down when you returned. You wanted to share your victories, the things a Von Tracht would be proud of, that would bring honor to the household as the deeds of a proper champion, but…you wanted to recount heroism, not the suppression of insurgents, no matter their ideology, nor deserters and mere mercenaries. All you could think of outside of these was your capture of Gerovic, and the battle with him before, and such hadn’t been glorious…yet, with no decoration from the homeland, it was all you could claim now.