It was a common dream by now, a better one than the ones that had once disturbed you relentlessly. If you had known before that going to Emre would change the setting the dead found themselves in, you would have gone immediately, but you knew it wasn’t the location, but the time that had passed. Ten years, ten long years since the end of the Auratus War, of the Emrean Liberation. Years away from Vitelia, years with new people, new family, away from much of what was before. The memories of war and blood had faded, the sting of loss had receded to numbness. Instead of the mud and ash, the snow and the flames, you found yourself back at the Angel’s Dawn Coffee House, in the twin capes of the north of Emre. It was always bustling in your dreams, not solemn like it had been in truth. All those you had lost were there and doing what had once been done back in Lapizlazulli, or Sella Castella. Everybody had survived the trials of the war in these dreams, mingling with those you would meet later, and the coffee was as bright and pungent as it had been in the good old days. Visions of better times that you woke from with a smile upon your face.This time was subtly different in a way you didn’t notice, until the subtlety melted away.As ever, you found yourself outside the place. The surroundings were a blur- they were insignificant. There was no temptation to go anywhere else. A different mix seemed to be in the coffee house each time, though they were ever all familiar faces. The first change. Figures that you didn’t recognize, not even as a facsimile made by your mind of people you didn’t know like the friends and comrades of Jean-Phillipe Debon, whom you had managed to keep in touch with through odd mails. The first person you sat beside with a small cup of espresso was Chiara to your right, the noble daughter who had taken you with her to tankery. She always looked different each time you came here, since you couldn’t be sure how ten years might have changed her. This time, she was dressed as boyishly as she had been in life, her hair tied in a neat ponytail, though she didn’t bind her chest as she once did, so she was unmistakably a lady.“Good morning, Colonello Bonaventura,” she said, “I can’t help but be envious from what I’ve heard of you. You have been up to what I’d have liked to do, had I been more fortunate.” These specters were also discomfortingly aware of their own passing. “I’ve done plenty I regret. Wouldn’t you also have liked to take your place at Leo’s side?”
Chiara sighed, and sipped rom her espresso, piled high with whipped cream and a syrup laden cherry. “I wonder. I’m envious of that, too. Marriage. Twins. But I know not if I would have traded that away for what I sought originally.”You had not touched your own serving of drink. “Either would be more what you deserved than what happened to you.”“Deserve?” Chiara echoed, “The Saints tell us we all get what we deserve, in the end. Maybe I was saved from sin, in a way. I left behind my conflict, my squabbles, everything went to the people I loved. Beyond, I await a kind judgment. You all have much more to worry about than I.”Suddenly, you became aware of a chill to your other side. A strange coldness from the left snapped your head to see what happened, and a figure in a dark cloak like that of Gilician irregulars was beside you. Under its hood was a face like an iron mask, still and cool. When the phantom looked at you, its mouth did not move from its rigid set mask. Instead, it seemed as though a chorus of voices came from above, from beyond the material. ”If only your faith and goodness were greater, then you would not have suffered so justly.“Who…” You got up from your seat and left in a panic, but when you regained your senses and looked back, both Chiara and the hooded creature had been replaced by other shades.Unnerved but still eager to spend time in this mystical café, you went to the second floor and found a dear lost one looking over the glittering seas.“Cesare,” you announced yourself to him and spread your arms for an embrace, which was readily accepted in turn. He wore the same garb as most of your friends who had been in the army, the familiar old dark green and red trim. “But you are not dead, I hope.”“I hope so too,” Cesare said, “After all, you aren’t, are you?”“I’ve done my best not to be.”A moment of silence as you let one another go and looked over the sea.“Not as lovely as home, is it?” Cesare asked, “Though I can see where the talk of Emrean haughtiness comes from. Perhaps we lack enough of it ourselves.”“I’m sorry, you know,” you said, “That I couldn’t save you. Especially when you never seemed the type for…the war. But you came along anyways.”
“I fought anyways, didn’t I?” Cesare replied, “What was that you told your daughter? Sometimes, people need to be hit, and there’s no other way to deal with the problem? Sometimes, there isn’t a choice but to fight. Not if you want something more than somebody else doesn’t want it. Whether or not it’s in your nature, Bonetto. If you give up just because you have a limp…well, I haven’t yet, don’t you think?You opened your mouth to voice agreement, when suddenly, a hand gripped your shoulder and whirled you about. A terrifying, figure whose face was wrapped in tattered red stared at you with wrathful eyes, broad shouldered and towering. This phantom shouted, it raged in a furious cry above all other noise, though none seemed to hear but yourself. ”Purge from yourself your feeble fear of blood, and the future can finally be grasped!”It shoved you backwards, and as you bent back over the railing, you assumed a posture to fight, but when you sprang back up, it was, like the other strange figure from before, gone. Vanished into the air, as was Cesare.Well and truly perturbed, you went downstairs, where you found Yena, garbed in her sundress and a light coat, smiling broadly, though your children were not here with her.“Dearest,” you wrapped your arms around her, “What are you doing here? This isn’t a place for you…you are beside me in my bed, at my side for truth and not in imagining.”“Where did I shy away from being with your friends?” She asked, “They were my friends too.” This Yena was a construct. A convincing fabrication, but false nevertheless, made by your mind like every other reassurance and comforting sight and sound here. “I have lost as much as you, but gained so much as well. As much as you have.”“I have few blessings the like of you,” you said to her, tracing a hand across her shoulders, her neck.“Then why come here and think I don’t belong?” Yena asked, her mood turning dim, and you drew back to see her frowning. “It’s hard, Palmiro. To always have to follow and never know where you venture until you stop.”You searched for what to say in response, but a figure faded from smoke in front of you, beyond your wife. It was masked like an actor of an old theatre- or rather, an approximation of one, gold and silver and still of face, draped in robes of swirling black and white. From this phantom came a voice like a whisper, that should not have been heard in the noise but was perfectly clear anyways, like the drip of rain off a stone into a clear pool. ”Imagine if you were more free of spirit…you would not be so lost.”Yena vanished from your arms, as did the phantom- and the scene you now found yourself in was one of faceless strangers. There was nothing to do now but leave…and hope for the waking world.
Your wife was once again material when you awoke, of course, held tightly against you. Vague advice from those formless shades. Why they appeared so in a dream where everything felt so clear and real otherwise, you could not say.-----The world had changed much as of late, in the year of 1920. The turn of a new decade, and with it, a world not yet satisfied with the turmoil it had already endured. There was much to speak of. Much to recognize in proper order. But on June the Eleventh of the previous year, 1919, a very important event occurred to close out the eventful decade. The result of mischief on the beach, earlier than you intended to resume the growth of your family…but hardly unwelcome.>Roll 3 sets of 1d100. Again, if any are 100, roll another set.
Rolled 60 (1d100)>>5944966>FinaleBold move, cotton.
Previous Threads-Prologue Part 1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5687489/Prologue Part 2: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5771752/Prologue Part 3: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5810248/Prologue Part 4: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5879252/Twitter for announcements and shitposts is @scheissfunkerEasy one to get out of the way first. Unsure if you want to name the new spawn yet or leave it to your wife again; I guess we'll see depending on how the rolls go.Speaking of your wife- the back aspect of the Atom Suit, Small- or, I suppose in Emrean, the rather repetitive "L'Atome Petit."
Rolled 78 (1d100)>>5944966Prologue? Oh no.
Rolled 55 (1d100)>>5944966Let's go for another nat 100!
Rolled 64 (1d100)>>5944966>FinaleOk yeah sure for real. snrk
>>5944967>>5944972>>5944973Alas, no hundreds.Yena is thirty one years old in 1919. Tick Tock.Mosshead Daughter>>5944974If nothing else I will find a way to make more numbers before one.This was way too late for Valentines Day, but it was at least a request, was it not?
>>5944976>Mosshead DaughterCan you give us a quick list of all Palmiro and Yena's kids and their ages right about now? There's a lot to keep track of now.
>>5944981Sure.Vittoria Antonia Bonaventura - g. Saint EmelidaBirthday- May 18, 1910Lorenzo Cesare Bonaventura- g. Saint AugustusBirthday- June 4, 1912Luigi Stefano Bonaventura- g. Saint MorginnBirthday- May 10, 1915Ydela Yena Bonaventura- g. Saint NevosaBirthday- July 18, 1917Yet to be Named- June 11, 1919As it will be August 1st of 1920 coming up in this update and vote, Vittoria will be ten years old, Lorenzo will be eight, Luigi will be five, and Ydela will be three.Picture unrelated but posting it for those who haven't seen it where it'd have been posted before.
>>5944997Is Vittoria still Palmiro's only blonde child?
>>5945001Ydela is blonde, though not in a normal, healthy way. Far whiter and paler than you or Vittoria's straw hue.
>>5944997When do they get conscripted
>>5944997How old are Leo's twins again?
I have no more spare pictures.>>5945005>When do they get conscripted?Don't worry about that.>>5945015>How old are Leo's twins again?They were born on November 12 of 1913, so, six going on seven.
Another daughter- a green haired girl, the picture of her mother. A first for you and Yena, as all your other children seemed to be split evenly between any resemblance to you as far as mirror images went. If this little girl was named Yena, then matters would be truly confusing…but thankfully, Ydela already carried that mantle, ignorant of its importance being just less than two years of age at the time.>Name her yourself?>Let Yena at this name, once again.>Other?Forward, though, to the turn of the decade. August of Nineteen and Twenty.Little mind was paid to what happened beyond the Reich, but Emre and Naukland had decided to officially seal their alliance with the resolution of long-disputed territorial rights. A strip of land between two rivers right on the border of the two nations, occupied by Naukland since the rise of Alexander and beyond, was finally returned to the Emreans. A gesture not only of goodwill but also a recognition of the Liberation’s success. The specter of Alexander no longer haunted the north.The Grossreich failed to crumble as all had anticipated with bated breath, but the Crown Prince Henrik was only thirteen years old, and the Regency Council refused to place him on the throne yet. Still far more focused with keeping what was left of the Reich together, this year, the Reich had officially withdrawn from the shared occupation meant to transition the Gepte, the Auratus, towards a future division never quite decided. Instead, the territory was given over to Vitelia- only to immediately enter a new form of dispute as Fealinn occupied the northern reaches, and Halmeggia occupied the southern portions near its borders. There was little satisfaction to be gained from this state of affairs- and the nation looked all the more impotent for being defied by two smaller countries rather than the weakened yet still mighty Grossreich. To Vitelia’s other flank, further defiance of its place as the dominant power of the west had already taken place. Kallec had felt bold and provocative, and had forcefully occupied the peninsula that made up the border region between Paelli and Vitelia. While not a direct aggression upon Vitelia itself and no proper declaration of war, they imposed themselves upon the land and its people, and had squatted there for a year now without any major action being made to force them out, beyond threats that had failed to manifest into consequences. King Lucius and his counsel were simply too averse to risk. Made sick with the wasting disease of failure in faith of the self- faith in the nation and its people.
Normally, the state of your home would be the thing of greatest concern, but not presently. You were still exiled, as Leo told you, enemies still lurked in wait for the chance to seize you should you ever return, and he was still not in a position where he could protect you. Instead, what you heard the most about was the seemingly insignificant conflict that had become known by the innocuous name of the Westwind War. The back-and-forth border skirmishes between Fealinn and Holherezh, between Wezkatinbach and Felbach, as well as between the two larger Pohja nations themselves, had been inconclusive for years following the end of the Emrean War that had prompted such squabbling. The Pohja countries had done their best to seize what territory they could, and had initially been successful, but the vast swathes they had grabbed were not simply allowed to be absconded with once Fealinn and Felbach had stabilized after their initial messy separation from the Reich. Bolstered by the support of their much larger and more powerful, though just as recently liberated northern neighbor, Felbach had defeated Wezkatinbach and pushed its borders west to the natural boundary of a river, and had struck fear into the western coast’s countries as Wezkatinbach and Holherezh ceased their territorial war, agreed upon an even border, and teamed up to try and fight off the Fealinnease offensive that had pressed to the gates of the Holherezhi capital, the source of their own support broader and not as well known, but effective nevertheless.The state of affairs in the north was at a crossroads thusly. Who would hold power in the region now, if the Reich no longer could try to claim the west? Many spoke in hushed tones about the possibility of the protectorate successors reigning anew. Perhaps, in more uneasy talk, the Pohja would set aside their differences and unite, as there had been talk before of the possibility of. Yet there was another option. A much prouder and bolder option.Having freshly made their army anew, a large portion of the Trelan Republic’s government was quite eager to find a use for it. Border skirmishes against irregulars served little purpose in the grander scheme, and while before it was the most that could be sensibly achieved, recent events had drawn many to think more was possible. Particularly, the Union party, which was both the largest represented part- though its opposition, the Welfare Party, headed a coalition that meant the Lands Assembly was not dominated readily by the largest representation.
The Twentieth Century Commission had been formed on compromise and collaboration both, but the Union Party had been gaining in the recent elections, and with the Welfare Party finding it more difficult to block legislation it opposed, with a larger share of wayward parties needed to sway things their way, your line of business had been quite lucrative. With the recent tumult especially, the minor parties had been swaying further towards hawkishness. The military these days could get whatever it wanted.With such investment came expectations, and the time had come to show just what the fruits of the labor could be. Holherezh might be in dire straits, but it was expected they would try for Trelan at some point, and if not, then somebody else would take advantage of extended inaction. At least, such was what Union Party loudmouths proclaimed to all who would listen. A truer motivation was that, if this Twentieth Century Army could go toe to toe with the Kalleans, surely the northwest of the continent could finally be brought to heel, considering their recent squabbling, wasteful fighting, and especially the lack of Reich funding for Wezkatinbach as of late. A chance to finally settle land disputes once and for all- perhaps, in this new world where the Reich was on the decline, a chance to carve out power…there wasn’t any interest in occupying territory, too many Pohja already, as some said, but putting at least the most tenacious neighbor to heel, and perhaps extracting some of their Nief’yem from their mountains, would be worth the price of an easy war for sure.There was an important matter too that the Twentieth Century Commission recognized even before all the recent commotion. That, without a real conflict, even the most well developed and equipped army was immature, and unready in a way that was hard to tell the depth of without a test of its capabilities. Not an army to be caught off guard with- it had to fight at some point, and a controlled environment against a less threatening opponent was the ideal place to be bled.
For your part, you had suddenly become quite popular with politicians you had never cared to get to know. Your word was greatly respected on the Twentieth Century Commission, and if you thought a war was not wise…then there might very well be no war, with your sway. It meant that more people than you expected had decided to try and cozy up, to offer gifts, opportunities, to drop sly hints and invitations about. The intent was ever clear. The Union Party and their affiliates were quite interested in your opinion being towards war, whilst their opposition, their power growing lesser and lesser, were rather direct in trying to set you against such a thing. It was a curious situation to be a lynchpin in, truly. The Unionists were in a place where the Lands Assembly could decide upon a declaration of war, a three fourths majority, but they could not guarantee it themselves. The smaller parties were still susceptible to a lack of confidence presented by the armed forces and its advisement. It certainly reinforced your opinions of what needed to be done for the Dawn, someday. Democracy had its vulnerabilities- its division and indecisiveness.No decisions had been made or promised yet, of course. Nothing major had been accepted, no small gifts or favors taken without grace. After all, Vittoria had had to be transferred to a new school again, and Lorenzo wanted to go to his elder sister’s new school with her, the situation much better accounted for when a Welfare Party member whose pet project was education and integration of foreigners could give proper recommendations over wine and hors d’oeuvres. It wasn’t that matters were openly corrupt. No outright bribery attempts had been made, but the waters were being tested, and who knew? If things got close enough, maybe something so daring would be seen as a necessity. Bribery of officials was hardly unknown in more relevant parts of the world, certainly not unknown in Vitelia, where wheels were often greased with the vast silver reserves of nobility, as well as titles and estates at times. It made you think of if you should take advantage…>Why not take full advantage if the time came? Money and gifts didn’t need to be accepted for your greed, after all. The Vitelian Future Leagues were ever hungry for donations…>Perhaps it was best to keep things subtle. To shift favor towards your own direct benefactors, the military. The Republican Army could only do better the more was heaped upon it, after all.>Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>Other?
The talk of war on the horizon, the news of conflicts all about, made Yena wary and despondent however. She would grow visibly nervous and uncomfortable whenever the subject came up, and recently, she had made a declaration.“Palmiro,” she urged you once as you were both getting ready for bed, “I am afraid. If war comes to this place…”“The Holherezhi weren’t strong enough to threaten this deeply into the country even before what’s going on now,” you comforted her with confidence, “We are in no danger.”“That’s not…” Yena hesitated, bit her lip. “If there is a war, they will surely want you to help them. To fight in their war, to lead them. I don’t want you to do that. I want you to be with us, with the family…”“I’d hardly be a low-ranking soldier in the trenches in that case, Yena.” In fact, given your experience, you doubted you’d see battle personally at all at the level you anticipated.Yena shook her head. “I don’t care. I don’t want you to be stolen again by war, Palmiro. I don’t want the children and I to be without their father, without my husband, for who knows how long. No battles, no leaving without warning, no…” She took a breath to settle herself. “Promise me, Palmiro…”>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…>A promise you could keep. You had little interest in sacrificing your time with your family for a country you cared little about staying forever in. You could do what you were already doing, and keep at that.>Other?
>>5945024>>Name her yourself?Yes. But what I do not know. Perhaps Chiara? That sounds like a nice name.>>5945028>Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>>5945030>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…I forget if there was any conflict in this area.
>>5945030>Name her Chiara>Perhaps it was best to keep things subtle. To shift favor towards your own direct benefactors, the military. The Republican Army could only do better the more was heaped upon it, after all.>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…
>>5945024>Name her yourself?Yecilia>>5945028>Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>>5945030>A promise you could keep. You had little interest in sacrificing your time with your family for a country you cared little about staying forever in. You could do what you were already doing, and keep at that.Keep Pure and Keep Palmiro's ass with his family. We'll eventually be off to war again, but there is a time and place to break Yena's heart by going off again. This is not that time or place.
>>5945028>NameChiara, Yena can decide the middle name>Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>OtherSee if we can swing for a role that leaves us in the capital. Maybe a liason between the general staff and politicians or another training school post, I dunno. Probably won't be an operational command but that's alright.
>>5945024>Let Yena at this name, once again.>>5945028>Perhaps it was best to keep things subtle. To shift favor towards your own direct benefactors, the military. The Republican Army could only do better the more was heaped upon it, after all.>>5945030>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…
>>5945024>Let Yena at this name, once again.>>5945028>Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>>5945030>A promise you could keep. You had little interest in sacrificing your time with your family for a country you cared little about staying forever in. You could do what you were already doing, and keep at that.We promised to always put them first
>>5945030>>5945044+1
>>5945030>A promise you could keep. You had little interest in sacrificing your time with your family for a country you cared little about staying forever in. You could do what you were already doing, and keep at that.I heard good things about this quest
>>5945028>Name her yourself?>Yre>Perhaps it was best to keep things subtle. To shift favor towards your own direct benefactors, the military. The Republican Army could only do better the more was heaped upon it, after all.Red Napoleon. Funny.>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…Mossheads can't understand the bigger picture. Sad!
>>5945030Supportan >>5945071
>>5945030>Chiara Yre>Perhaps it was best to keep things subtle. To shift favor towards your own direct benefactors, the military. The Republican Army could only do better the more was heaped upon it, after all.>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…We shall keep our promise of putting them first by gaining more wealth and opportunities for them.
>>5945154Wait, seems like I already voted. Disregard this vote.
>>5945154Actually I'll change my vote to support>Let Yena at this name, once again.>Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>A promise you could keep. You had little interest in sacrificing your time with your family for a country you cared little about staying forever in. You could do what you were already doing, and keep at that
>>5945030>Chiara >Keep yourself pure. There was a principle to this matter, after all, and was even the smallest corruption not indicative of immorality, no matter what any politician claimed otherwise?>That wasn’t something you could promise. It might be incredibly important to take such an opportunity- doing so had meant you could live in relative wealth now, she had to realize…"I don't make promises cause it's meant to be broken"-Lotus Juice
>>5945026>A chance to finally settle land disputes once and for all- perhaps, in this new world where the Reich was on the decline, a chance to carve out power…there wasn’t any interest in occupying territory, too many Pohja already, as some said, but putting at least the most tenacious neighbor to heel, and perhaps extracting some of their Nief’yem from their mountains, would be worth the price of an easy war for sure.Greco-Turkish esque population swap incoming?
>>5945037>>5945044>>5945077>>5945174Leo can't be the only one with a new Chiara.>>5945042Yecilia>>5945046>>5945071>>5945150>>5945158Throw it at the woman.>>5945140Yre. I should say that mountainfolk with Y names have them pronounced like a long E at the start into a y end.>>5945037>>5945042>>5945044>>5945071>>5945077>>5945158>>5945174>>5945158No swaying for goodies.>>5945046>>5945140More metal for the mil mill.>>5945037>>5945046>>5945140>>5945174There are considerations you must not be barred from.>>5945042>>5945071>>5945105>>5945150>>5945158Anything for the green.>>5945044>>5945077Try for close business.Calling it in an hour.>>5945105>I heard good things about this questOh no.>>5945233>Greco-Turkish esque population swap incoming?That remains to be seen.Being beyond what the other side of the mountains cares about means history isn't as set in stone...
>>5945273How's the Archduchy doing during the period of the prologue? A quiet couple of decades before the 'interesting' times occuring in the present day?
No changes then, writing.>>5945289>How's the Archduchy doing during the period of the prologue? A quiet couple of decades before the 'interesting' times occuring in the present day?They're having plenty of interesting times, but outside of Sosalia they're not seen as more than a regional power, though indisputably the rising one. The Archduchy has been busy biting chunks out of its neighbors and seizing on opportunistic small grabs, the region being as ever a fluctuation of smaller wars. Since 1910 or example Strossvald has seized a large chunk of Netillian claimed territory, and there's more yet to happen before the east reaches the "modern" state of affairs. Notably though, it'd only be recently that Strossvald finally puts an end to the unrest and rebellion in the territory of Altoss, its southeast end beyond its interior mountains, which would have been consuming a lot of focus for quite a while.
A large part of you would rather not have had to promise such a thing. A chance to advance yourself was hard to pass up, when you had been unable to advance your old cause in your long exile, but you were swayed nevertheless. “Alright,” you acquiesced, “I promise I won’t be a part of the army, involved in war. At best I’ll see if I can reserve any participation to where I’m close to home. Is that alright?”Yena’s mouth was a tight line, and she sighed. “As long as you are close.” A wail came from upstairs, and Yena turned her head. “Ah, Chiara must be hungry…”Your newest daughter, named after the long deceased mutual friend. Leo and Marcella had also named their daughter after her, but when you had idly suggested it, Yena had liked it well enough. Her honored name was also left to Yena, who decided on Cycilia. You had wondered if it might be Yecilia, considering. Her patron, finally, was Chiara’s own favorite- Saint Emelida, the same that Vittoria was given over to the watch of. Though the difference in your three daughter’s hair color had led to some angst from your eldest. A new term you’d learned over the years as Vittoria had grown was bir’das, the mountain blood word for a cowl, or a cloak. Yena was unfamiliar with it, to your surprise, and it was apparently a slang term for a female Nief’yem who did not outwardly resemble her bloodline- in other words, Vittoria. The particulars of Nief’yem blood law meant that she should have been considered fully and purely mountainfolk, but there was evidently disagreement on this judgment when it came time to properly observe it. At least, amongst certain children. It wasn’t so much a controversy when it came to males, as male children of “foreigners” were only considered half no matter their appearance, and it meant Vittoria had for a long time been the sole recipient of such disdain for her. An excuse, really, since she was taller and stronger than even boys her age (ten years), perhaps in time fairer, when she grew into womanhood.It was no surprise that she had no female friends, therefore, and you doubted that her younger sister Ydela would be treated better as she went through schooling, as she would be starting next year.Thank goodness she might do better at the new school though, you thought, even if your children did have to take a trolley a long way to get there. Maybe an automobile would be a good investment?Such a thing had already been offered as a gift by a Union Party schmoozer, but you had turned down any and all offers of compensation of such a grand scale, even when they were deflected to merely be additional funding or considerations for the Twentieth Century Commission. It was hardly hungry for work these days anyways, as your pet project had expanded from one to two regiments now, and the Armor Arditi had swelled in number alongside.
The population expansion programs of the past were beginning to bear fruit, but the Welfare Party and its allies openly protested the funneling of this new manpower into something like the armed forces instead of growing an economy besides the war one.Yena had brought Chiara down and you helped her go to the kitchen to prepare some soft food- a year old, she was weaned already, and thankfully shared the tastes of Ydela from before when it came to sweet mashed roots. It also meant that Yena would be insisting on getting pregnant once more, of course. Five children were already a lot to deal with, but you had kept your word on Yena being the decider of when enough was enough…at least your older children could do proper chores now. It had, ironically, gotten easier over time.“Did I tell you?” Yena asked you as you made food for Chiara, “Elena will be bringing her son when she comes to visit.”“I didn’t hear,” you said, “It’ll be good to see him…” Elena was still unmarried, but her son was not her own- she had adopted him, you had heard. Though Elena was thirty-five years old now, like you would be soon. Had she given up on finding a husband? Wars and economic hardship had certainly reduced the number of available bachelors in Vitelia…Trelan was far hungrier for foreign women than for foreign men, but at the same time, would she be so desperate as that? “Has Marcella told you any…womanly secrets?”“Hm?” Yena blinked at you, then giggled, “No, Palmiro, she isn’t pregnant. She still has her two.”Funny to think that you had more children than two families (of a sort) combined. Marcella, Leo, and Elena would be coming to visit next week, and that’d be good for your children as well as you. Elena’s adopted son was as old as Luigi, and only a bit more than a year younger than Marcella and Leo’s kids, so they’d surely have a good time befriending each other…Vittoria wanted to see her Padrino most of all, and Lorenzo tagged alongside his big sister, so everybody was looking to be satisfied with the coming events.Everybody, perhaps, except for the languishing cause of Futurism.-----
The days before the visit, a flurry of activity had consumed the Twentieth Century Commission, a new report being demanded by the Republic government concerning the Republic Armed Forces’ readiness and their strength relative to the various degrees of most likely opposition. All around the country there were inspections, exercises and drills, and your own workplace was utterly swamped with reports and analysis that had to be done, conclusions to draft, and what things could be addressed in the short term and what would have to be accepted to be delayed for the long term. Intelligence reports ranging from dubious to the absurd to leaked intelligence from abroad that gave wildly varying estimates of strength all around the northwest, reports and rumors of battles that had gone on and why they had ended up the way they did. It was a time as exciting as it was exhausting, and even more eyes were on you now. All were headily anticipating what the judgment of the top minds and characters of the commission would be…whether the war that the Union Party proclaimed as so certain, and so rational, was backed up by the word of the experts and those who would be fighting it. The politicians dared not announce a decision ahead of time, but pressure came from all sides regarding every single doubt that could be levelled, every boon that could be imagined, and what the best and most proper course of action would undoubtedly be the one taken. The actual situation was foggy and complicated, and all the gushing news about guaranteed success gave you uneasy memories of the talk in Vitelia before the Auratus War and its failure. You could talk over the details with Leo when he came around, but besides the general uncertain air around the validity of various strokes of optimism, it was without debate true that the Republic of Trelan could trounce Holherezh while they were being so badly beaten up by Fealinn, and perhaps, Wezkatinbach too, as Ohtiz was out of the way, and not guaranteed to aid their Pohja neighbors, as they preferred to keep to themselves in their mountain-cradled squat peninsula. How would the other parties react, however? Would Fealinn and Felbach intervene? Would it be worth the investment? Could the Army of the Republic maintain momentum through territory that would have to be occupied, at least to the point where supplies could pass through? That was less certain. The most that could be said was, when a large-scale battle came, Trelan’s army quality was quite a bit ahead of its competition, and not ground down by the conflicts still going on.
The hope was for a fast and easy bulldozing, and indeed, the fortifications facing Trelan were minimal at best, the garrisons limited to the same irregulars who would normally entertain themselves with infiltrations and harassments, though those had decreased in scale since the TCC’s reforms and procurements had taken effect. Meanwhile, the once intimidating irregulars had managed to change only but a little, as the focus of Pohja ambitions had turned to their east.It wasn’t that the hawks were wrong to sense easy victory. Just that their ambitions might grow too great. It was all a headache, really, and you were quite looking forward to not being around Trelani for a bit, at home, with old friends.-----August the eleventh of nineteen twenty in Pietrecirchio. This afternoon, your friends, practically extended family at this point, would be coming in. Through Paelli rather than your route, considering recent times, but a railway going north up from Kallec’s southern reaches now linked up to Trelan, so travel was far easier than it had been before, even though aircraft had grown more sophisticated quickly, and less expensive as well. Today was the first day of a special holiday festival in Trelan, one that took place every couple of years in the lower end of summer, but which had been deemed to be worthy of particular elevation as of late. The Gran Idolo Emck, rooted in the same quaint ritual that Yena always insisted you upkeep, but scaled to the level of the offering of a city. A great sculpture of flower petals and papers scribed with wishes formed the shape of the typical offering flower. The gathering of wishes would end on the third night, and on the fourth day of the festival the Emck Flower would be painted over with scented oils, and set alight to slowly smolder throughout the fifth day. It was apparently inspired by a tradition amongst the Pohja, the Festival of Idols…which while it sounded like some witchcraft heresy from the days of eld, was far from an act of worship. Instead, the images and forms of devils and trespasses alike were formed and then destroyed in a fit of violence and self-purification. This form of it was far less barbaric of an expression, most mountainfolk agreed, even if they were loath to admit where the Gran Idolo Emck evolved from, especially these days.It did counteract the general confliction regarding war, especially with conscription notices going out to bolster the numbers of reservists. Pohja and Nief’yem alike could be found mingling in the city, and the festival’s infectious goodwill made few willing to think about wars or ethnic tensions. A ploy by the Welfare Party’s coalition, you had heard from a looser lipped representative over lunch once. So they were even bringing holidays into this political game, were they…
The last preparations were made in the house only an hour before the lot of your friends were due to arrive at the Pietrecirchio Gran Centro. It had seemed like a plenty big house when you had bought it, but now, you had two more children, and would be having three people over, with three more children. All of a sudden, it seemed not quite enough. Already the children were sharing rooms, and as Vittoria got older, Yena warned, she would want to insist on her own space. You had the money to sell this house and buy a new one, but…still.You arrived at the Gran Centro from the city trolley only a minute before the train arrived- itself late. There had rarely been an excuse for you to come here, but it was of a style a self-respecting Vitelian could appreciate, replete with pillars and white stone and bronze like a Second Empire palace, with floral romantic curves to everything in the concourse, though no other part of the station was so garishly decorated, and the white stone became blocky and grey again where the soot of train smoke stank. Coming off the train cars, Marcella, Elena, and especially Leo stuck out like a sore thumb. Judging from how quickly Leo’s searching eyes landed upon you and brightened, you stuck out too.“Paaadiiii!” Vittoria called out when she thought Leo could hear her, and she ran down the stairs to get to her godfather first, whereupon he seized her about the waist and lifted her high into the air.“You’ve grown so gigantic, Vittoria!” he said approvingly as he set her on an immense shoulder and brought her over to you- both of you embraced with one arm each. “Bonetto, it’s been too long. Only a few years, but I remember far back enough when that felt like an eternity.”“It still does, Leo,” you said morosely as the women caught up with you, trailing the rest of the children. Yena was covered with enough to look like she was a tree with a flock of squirrels around it, compared to the plenty motile children belonging to your visitors. Despite being only six and a half or so, Leo’s twins looked as appropriately large for their age as their father, though they were not so dark as he, and had ruddy hair like their mother. Marcella, for her part, still had her hair kept short and scruffy, and besides a new pair of spectacles on her nose she hadn’t aged too much…neither had her fashion, which she knew well drew eyes as her blouse sloped down to a deep canyon that was impossible not to let the eyes fall into at least once, for most.
Not you, though. You next greeted Elena, who had stepped forward with her arms stretched out and her hips forward, expectant. “Hey, Bonetto,” she said wearily with a closed smile.You reached out and took her, held her against you, patted her on the back.“It’s good to see you, Elena,” you said to her, and then you stepped back and knelt down to look at the boy by her side. “And who are you? I didn’t know about you until recently.”Elena tapped her boy’s shoulder. “Go on, then, introduce y’self.” He was a healthy-looking youngster, around Luigi’s age, five, with straw hair like a typical Hill Vitelian and a speckling of freckles.He eyed you up. The boy had some confidence. “My name’s Beni.”“Benito Giarno,” Elena finished for him, “Dang, Bonetto, I knew y’were havin’ a lot, but…yeesh. More’n double last I saw.”Ah, right. You went back and took Luigi’s small hand and brought him forward. “This is Auntie Elena, Lui,” you told your second son, “And this is Beni, your cousin.” Well, not by blood, but still, if Elena was to be auntie, that meant certain relations extended. “Hi!” he said excitedly, “I’m Luigi! My big sis is the marble queen!” …Well, that had been a secret, apparently, from how his eldest sister heard that outburst and started muttering to herself. “Do you like marbles? I’ll play with you!”“Save the marbles for later,” you canceled Luigi’s haphazardly planned game, “You have other people to meet. Go and get mommy, Luigi. Lolo! Come over here, not by your sister…”Beni had gone with Luigi towards the family’s green crowned matriarch, leaving Elena to watch Lorenzo come over uncertainly, and she knelt down with her hands on her knees.“Ain’t you a sweetie,” she cooed at your son, “Last I saw y’, y’didn’t even talk. Now yer…eight, right? You still quiet, Lolo?”Lorenzo shook his head. “I don’t have to be loud. Saint Augustus said once that a quiet voice can be heard around the world if it’s spoken by the right man.”Elena reached her hand out and pet your son’s head. “Raisin’ a little scholar, huh, Bonetto?”“He’s quite fond of books,” you said with some pride, “He reads several levels above where he should, and I think he knows the local tongue better than I do. I’m going to start teaching him New Nauk if he gets top grades in school this year.”Elena sighed, “Gonna send yer kids off t’ a good school, then? Old Pietro’d throw a fit, knowin’ his stock’s gone forever from the farm…”You frowned at the mention of your family. Your father. “I’ve not been visited by anybody from home except you, Elena. He can think what he likes.”
Going to the festival for the night was a given, of course, but first, everybody would take a rest at the house and have a light supper and coffee. The children loudly yipped with the trolley as they rode on it. Apparently, such things weren’t well experienced where they had lived. You could have sworn there were trolleys in Donom Dei, in Lapizlazulli, but when you asked Leo about them, he morosely shook his head and said that they had gone out of business for lack of support. What a shame…but they could be revived once again, surely. “I can ride the trolley by myself,” Vittoria bragged, “Me and Lolo are going to take it to school when we start going again.”“Really?” Marcella gave you and Yena a skeptical look, “That doesn’t sound safe.”“Pietrecirchio is a safe city,” Yena said with a smile, “There’s plenty of guards about, and the trolleys don’t go anywhere unsavory. Plenty of children ride on them. As long as they’re back before sunset…” she glanced at Vittoria, “Right, Vittoria? Not like those times?”Vittoria put out an annoyed pout and crossed her arms. “I’d never be late if I had a pocket watch.”“Or if you looked at the clock tower,” you said to her.“Oh, don’t be such fusses,” Marcella said, “If it’s really safe, then I was out plenty after dark when I was young, and look how I turned out!”Vittoria stared, then whispered to you, “Mommy doesn’t have things like that, so does that mean…”“No,” you cut her off. Not that now. That would be a conversation to have with her mother, anyways. It would be about time soon. “So you play marbles, huh?” Marcella asked.Vittoria’s cheeks flushed. “I’m too old for marbles.”“No you’re not,” Marcella said flatly. “What, you think you want to play Sweep? Poker?”“Are those adult games?” Vittoria asked, “I want to learn those.”“Ask your Padrino,” you said, “Leo played a lot of card games when he was in the Arditi.”“Still does, y’know,” Marcella said, poking Leo beside her, “Wouldn’t think such a bruiser would be a card shark, huh?”It wasn’t a long ride to your house, and as soon as you arrived and all the bags were set down, the younger children started making a ruckus all about the place. You and Leo were thus conscripted to watch over the kids (save for Chiara of course)(Your Chiara, not theirs) and watch them as they played on the street with the variety of toys you’d all accumulated, even though Vittoria and Lorenzo were more interested in being taught cards by Leo. As they first tried out a game against one another, Leo stretched his back and went over by you. “Precocious kids you have, Bonetto.”
“If only they were so open with their father,” you sighed, “What were the ladies talking about that they wanted to keep secret?”“Guess.”You lowered your voice so the children wouldn’t pick it up with their curious ears. “Sex?”“Yeah,” Leo said, lowering his voice to, “You know, Bonetto, there’s this neat thing you can do called pulling out, it’s pretty easy, you just do what you were doing, but backwards…”“I know that,” you punched Leo’s arm, “Judge Above. Blame Yena.”“Just saying, you’ve got a lot of kids. Must take up a lot of time.”You shrugged. “I hire help when I need it. Yena’s happy to do housework, and I’m happy to help her. Vittoria and Lorenzo do chores and it’s easier now.”“Is it just Yena who wants so many kids?” Leo asked, “Doesn’t seem like you’re saying no to more.”You turned the question on Leo. “Doesn’t Marcella want more?”“Not right now,” Leo said, “I can’t blame her, I’m away too much. I can actually stick around on trips like these, for once, and I don’t want to stress her out more than I already do. I don’t know what El’s thinking, though. Adopted a kid, no husband. She works delivery and courier service, Bonetto, not exactly high paying. A lot of going around place to place.”“She seems alright,” you said. “But I was saying before,” Leo said, “I think a lot, you know, about what might have happened, how things could be different. Those tanks weren’t so big. Hit in a different place, maybe the other crew is gone. Maybe both. Do you think the same sorts of things, Bonetto? If things were…different?”You bit the corner of your lip in regretful memory. “I’ve thought plenty about that, but I don’t like to.”“Not about the failures, Bonetto, just how you’d live after,” Leo said, “You’re here because Yena moved here. She’s here because you sent her off after you did all that stuff in Gilicia. Let’s say things were done over a different way. Say that…I don’t know, say that Yena was smitten with me instead of you, like you originally thought she was way back when. What’s different? Where do you see yourself having gone, where’d you be right now? Because, funny as hell, I don’t think I’d be in too different a place, come the present day…”>?You told your story, of how your life would have gone. Perhaps who you’d have married instead, what would happen, but you weren’t quite done when you were suddenly interrupted by Marcella coming out.“Hey, Leo,” she said, “You've gotta ome and see this. Bonetto, you can stay out by your onesies a bit, right?”
“Sure.” As they both went into the house and you wondered what it might be about, you watched Leo’s twins, as well as Luigi and Ydela and Benito, all chase a bunch of hide bound balls about in some children’s game about hoarding them all to oneself. Very difficult to accomplish, but the point was to run around playing keep away. You’d played that yourself, once. “What?” Vittoria complained from her card game, “Oh, come on. Shit.”“Vi,” you snapped, “Don’t say bad words.”“Sorry, Papa,” Vittoria said sullenly, “How come Lolo keeps winning this, Papa?”“Let me see,” you knelt down and looked at the cards, “Lolo, how about you tell your big sister?”“Vi’s in a hurry to play her cards,” Lorenzo said plainly, “She plays too fast and her hands aren’t as good.”“There you go,” you said, rubbing Vittoria’s head, “Be more patient and you’ll win.” She was the Marble Queen, it wasn’t like she was a fool when it came to games. Leo came out of your house and shut the door behind him, gestured to you.“Yeah?” you said, sidling up beside him. “What did they want?”“Your wife was showing the girls that swimming suit you got her in Emre,” Leo said, “…Really something, isn’t it.”“It is,” you agreed, “There’s a more modest kind.”“How much more? It’s hard not to be.”“The back covers the buttocks more,” you said, “That’s about all. The top looks different, I suppose.”“Emreans,” Leo said with a chuckle, “Never wanting to be outdone no matter what it is. Don’t mind me saying, Bonetto, after she’s had five kids, I’m surprised. Yena’s body is dynamite. I’d have never guessed.”That made you laugh in agreement. “Yena spends plenty of time maintaining her beauty. Her efforts haven’t gone for naught. But let’s be fair now, imagine Marcella in that suit.”Leo snorted. “I don’t think it’d hold her, Bonetto. That sort of suit…Chiara had the right body for it.” He paused and reflected. “Not that she’d ever wear it.”“Certainly not.” Though you couldn’t be so sure. Chiara had been prone to certain brashness at times, after all, in spite of herself. “Maybe in a sauna.”“Bonetto, come on.”“I’m only saying,” you said, “Mountainfolk here don’t wear clothing to their springs. Maybe they’d appreciate something that’s barely there, like in a sauna.”“Maybe so.” Leo allowed.You watched the children change games from ball to war to monsters, while your older daughter and son were put through the paces of various card games by Leo, until finally, the ladies came out and offered to give you a break.“Yeah,” Leo accepted for you, “Hey, Bonetto. Show me around the neighborhood a bit, I feel like taking a walk.”
Hm. “Alright,” you said, having known him too long to not know that he didn’t want a tour, but rather, time away, without prying listeners. “I know a coffee shop. We’ll be right back, Yena. Come get us if you need us sooner than that.”You went down the stone brick streets, looking up to the sun as the shadows lengthened. Scraps of powdery flowers floated through the air from the elevated platform where the festival’s centerpiece was still being assembled, and normal Emck was still being undertaken, a ritual between affectionate youths in this time like a second, longer Vardigsday. You told Leo about it, and he asked if Vittoria was hiding somebody from you. No, you answered, as your eldest daughter didn’t like mountainfolk customs much, and instead, did the socially acceptable alternative and did Emck with Lorenzo should it be demanded of her.You led Leo to a quieter street, with no trolley rails, a bit of a slower way to the café. “So, Leo,” you said, stopping your steps, “What did you want to talk about?”“Bonetto,” Leo said, “After all this time. Ten years about, I finally found him. It took too damn long, but finally, I’m sure of it, Bonetto. I know where Cesare is. He’s alive.”You just about fell over in shock and relief mixed together in a torrent of emotion. “What?” There wasn’t anything else to say but demands. “Where?”“Fealinn, in the prisoner of war camps they’re still keeping.” Leo said, “They don’t normally let anybody who I hired near, but with the Gilicians moving up through their south, they had to move some camps. That’s when a couple of my guys managed to see for themselves, to hear about them while trailing them. They moved him and the others to a new camp, over near their western border. Have them doing new work, war things I’d bet. But that’s not the point. That close, on the border…of course, Vitelia can’t and won’t do anything these days. But if Trelan decides to move through and take out everything in the way…”“Leo, I,” you hesitated, “I know what you’re saying, but I don’t have that power.”“You do,” Leo said in defiance, “I’ve had people asking around all over, trying to figure out how I can do this. Cesare’s right there, Bonetto. He’s been waiting. He’s been surviving. We have to get him. All you need to do is give the Trelani a reason. Let them do what they want to do anyways. Then, we can get people in close enough. My own group. We can get him out, Bonetto. But we need your help. When we get the opening, we’ll have a place for you to join in, too. It’ll be like the best of our old times. For a good cause. For the Future.”
You had to pause, and think, not answer before you could think. He was right, though. You could do it. You did have that influence, despite not even being forty yet. It wasn’t just about whether you should rescue one of your dearest friends or not, though. It wasn’t a question of whether or not to defy what you thought had been fate’s bad hand to you all and to take back what had been stolen from you. War for the goals of a small few. If you leaned your weight towards war, and that was the tipping point, how many people would suffer and die for your own desires, that had little to do with their own wants and needs? That would make you little better than the greedy schemers who had pushed Vitelia into its own disastrous war, and had managed to make it out with everything intact, perhaps even wealthier than before, in exchange for blood, pain, orphans and widows. This was no decision to make with a callous or hasty mind. Trelan may not have been your country, but it had welcomed you into it, its people were still human…and even if you were to help, you had promised Yena you wouldn’t put yourself into a war, and only weaseling out of the maze of your own words would work as any justification for going along.>There would be a war anyways. No fault in pushing it along. But you couldn’t help beyond that.>This was different. This was Cesare. You had to do everything you could to help- then be among the first to see him again, yourself…>It wasn’t right to do this out of personal interest, no matter how precious. You wouldn’t be the one to make thousands of young men deal with the same things you had to. You would be pressing against war- sorry, Leo.>Other?
>>5945649>Elena probably wouldn't be a spinster. Even if the feeling had been buried with separation, they were still there, smoldering. Geilicia probably would have still happened for better or worse but the following exile probably would have been spent somewhere else as the move here was done to make Yena more comfortable. Not sure how Elena's own proclivities and the environment would effect how many kids Palmiro and her would have, but that's a consideration.>Other (Is there any way this could be made into a solo operation? Clandestine in nature. Throwing a whole country into war was one thing, but greasing the right palms to get a small strike force to go in and out while more dangerous was worth if it meant Cesare could be brought home without the deaths of thousands of young men like him on our hands)
>>5945652>>This was different. This was Cesare. You had to do everything you could to help- then be among the first to see him again, yourself…We shouldn't have made that promise. Now she'll use it against us when we inevitably go to war for Utopianism.
>>5945652>?I don't think much about the hypotheticals, they can't really change the reality of today. Judge knows Chiara and our university friends appear well enough in my dreams already>This was different. This was Cesare. You had to do everything you could to help- then be among the first to see him again, yourself…Being stuck there for over a decade, damn. These guys deserve to smacked down by the Reich again
>>5945652>>This was different. This was Cesare. You had to do everything you could to help- then be among the first to see him again, yourself…This is why don't make a girl a promise if you know you can't keep it.
>>5945652>>There would be a war anyways. No fault in pushing it along. But you couldn’t help beyond that.
>>5945671An attempt at subtlety.The answer is that it is possible to try, but also, Trelan and Fealinn are neutral towards one another and Trelan has you as an intermediary for any independent actions (which this would still be even then), while Holherezh is currently having the stuffing beaten out of it and isn't a place of charity at the best of times. Theoretically possible. Even more risky.>>5945709>>5945712>>5945861Bring about war, and commit yourself to it.>>5945889Stay at home. Let there be war.I'll call the vote when I get home from work.
>>5945652>This was different. This was Cesare. You had to do everything you could to help- then be among the first to see him again, yourself…No clue what to do for the first one.
>>5946019Could we contact di Zucchampo and the Gilicians/Continuation Command, maybe they can launch a new offensive in the south as well? The more chaos and distraction the better.
>>5945652>There would be a war anyways. No fault in pushing it along. But you couldn’t help beyond that.I really don't want to go galvanizing around while we have a shit ton of kids and a wife. We will help however we can, but we must stay with the family, because one day, we will truly leave to fight for Utopianism...
>>5945671Oh, and supporting that we would've probably ended up with Elena.
>>5946019Is Beni from Bonetto's home village or something, or is he just a random war orphan Elena adopted?
I shouldn't say I'll resolve things when I close at midnight.>>5946203Go for the salad.>>5946368Hold back for one thing.Writing.>>5946258>Could we contact di Zucchampo and the Gilicians/Continuation Command, maybe they can launch a new offensive in the south as well? The more chaos and distraction the better.You can try that, sure, though di Zucchampo (and your) faction weren't the ones at the top when it all ended.>>5946387>Is Beni from Bonetto's home village or something, or is he just a random war orphan Elena adopted?It's been too long for him to be a war orphan, considering he's Luigi's age (the kid, not the namesake), and he's not from their home village, no. Though fair haired hill Vitelians are hardly uncommon.
>>5946583Right, right, my brain kind of derped there.
Sorry about the delay, I was just not in any mood to cook for the whole day. It'll be out tonight though.
There’d be war one way or the other, you’d already decided now, and if the Trelani wanted one they’d get it. Let them see for themselves how much they liked it. This was motivation atop, though, for you to tip your hand. A chance to not stew in impotence as the part of the world you cared most for passed right on by, leaving you stranded where you were. A chance to repay debts long left, unable to be repaid in any way. A chance to make failures past right once more. You had to help wholeheartedly.“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” you said, “Tell me when it’s time, too. I want to be one of the first to see him again.”Leo’s tension went out of his shoulders. “Great. That’s great, Bonetto. That gives me a lot more confidence.” He put a hand on your shoulder and pushed you gently along as he walked beside, “The plan’s still half baked, to be honest, but we’ve got a lot more going for us with your help…””Yes, that’s it,” a mirthful sneer said from nowhere, ”Do whatever it takes. Whoever bleeds does it because they must. Whatever burns was an obstacle. Let nothing stand before the might of furious purpose…”“Hm?” You blinked and glanced at Leo, “Did you hear that?”“Hear what?” Leo frowned at you.“Nothing,” you shook your head. Devil’s trickery. “Let’s go to that coffee house, then. It’s not as good as the cliff’s best cups, but there’s something unique to it, still.”The Stone Tables, where you went, wasn’t always a coffee house. It had been the meeting place for a clan of Pohja tribesmen once, who had gone to the place’s carved boulders for feasting and weddings. They were still around, after a fashion, but their younger and less martial descendants had elected to turn the place into something that followed newer trends. It might have been the place Trelani youth like you might have gone to, if the Republic’s rise had not significantly chilled Revolutionary fervor. For now, the flat-top cut boulders hosted calm parties, and no chieftains celebrating conquest or dreamers plotting the future. You and Leo leaned on one that had been levelled off into a wall, forming a shelf of sorts, with your pot and cups. “Finish what you were telling me earlier,” Leo said, “About how you thought things would go. You were saying you’d have shacked up with Elena, and everything else’d be about the same?”
“More or less,” you said, swirling about the herb bundle which mountainfolk inexplicably shoved in their coffee like a stirring stick. “For better or worse. I probably wouldn’t be here, since I’d have to consider her feelings on the matter for where to live, but she’d have followed me, so maybe, I’d be in Gilicia right now. I’d probably be there for the same reason. Maybe less children.” Though farming families back at home tended to have a bunch solely to run operations, albeit spaced further apart. You had three siblings yourself, though Elena only had one. Though she also had a bunch of cousins. “Funny,” Leo said, “I don’t think that’s how it’d be at all.” He turned his cup over his mouth to get the last drops from it. “Okay.”“Really, Bonetto,” Leo gestured to you with his cup as he took hold of the copper pot with his other hand to pour himself another coffee, “For the whole war, right until the very end, you were hanging around Chiara. You were in her unit. You don’t think you wouldn’t have the slightest bit of fondness? She thought pretty highly of you, y’know.”“…” You squinted at Leo, “I suppose it’s hard to think of it that way, what with…you know.”“Funny thing about that,” Leo said, “Marcella told me, way afterwards. Chiara made her move because your lady told her to. The girls talked to each other a lot more than you might think.”“Made her move?” You didn’t quite get it at first. “Ah.”“What, Bonetto,” Leo said, “You don’t appreciate brown girls? They’re Vitelian too.”“What’s done is done,” you said, ignoring the question of preferences. “I’d like to keep focused on the future now, instead of thinking about what could have been.” They already haunted your dreams enough. At least the shades had become friendlier and more peaceful now.“…Yeah,” Leo said solemnly, “I agree. Especially, since we’ve got something, we can finally make right. Speaking of, since you’re on board, I’ll tell you what we’ve got together right now. It hasn’t been all that long since the guys I’ve got snooping around found out…”“Who are they, anyways?” You asked, “Future League people?”“Sort of, but not really. Old buddies from the war. People who are sick of how long it’s taken some of us to come back home. Makes some strange allies. Some people were on the Gilician side of things.”“If Gilicians are involved I can try and see what favors I can ask,” you offered, “People still remember me, I’d hope.”“A lot of people remember the Black Knight, Bonetto,” Leo said to you with a knowing smirk.“I never claimed that name,” you said with a point, “But if it benefits us, then I’ll suffer it.”
Leo reached a hand out- you passed a portion of honey. A mountainfolk favorite, though it wasn’t cheap, and a small jar of it was about as costly as the pot of coffee you bought. “That name might be more useful than you think, considering the people we’ll have to take along for this. The camp garrison isn’t feeble. We won’t be able to take them on with sheer numbers, not the way we’ll have to do it.”“No Futurist mob to storm the gates, then,” you said, your mental image of what was to come shifting. “The Northwest War’s drawn a lot of mercenaries to it already,” Leo said, “I’m not trying to cause an international incident here. If we can pass off as a mercenary raid, though, everybody can wash their hands of it once we’re gone. Holherezh would have tried to keep us, I’d bet, but if Trelan’s on the border, well, you can make us vanish, I’m sure.”“I’m not a worker of miracles, but a lot of people are looking for a reason to owe me, lately.”“It’ll work,” Leo said, “There’s skilled people with the Future Leagues, for sure, but a lot of them are plenty busy already, and not too up for going on an expedition over the mountains. That’s fine. A bunch of Vitelians storming a Vitelian prisoner of war camp could be blamed too easily on Vitelia, and there’s plenty of powers that would like to use the Future Leagues as a scapegoat, with how popular we are.”“So who does that leave you with?” You asked, “If the mercenaries are already flocking north.”“There’s other places to find them, but we want bravos, Bonetto. Adventurers. People who aren’t necessarily in it for the money. People who’ve got skill, so that we only need a couple hundred of people and a prison break for this to work well. I’m already poking around, I sent a few guys on business trips, far away as the other side of Vinstraga. If you know anybody, or if anybody owes you one, bring them in. We’ll need everything we can get.”You could think of some people. Not necessarily that owed you, but who couldn’t lack eagerness to fight together with you again. “We won’t be storming a Fealinnese work camp with nothing but our bare hands, will we?”
“I won’t lie, Bonetto, we don’t have a lot of spare capital. Even if we pooled together what we’ve individually got, I don’t think we can make our own private army from scratch, Bonetto. It’s why we’ll have to be a bit clever. But a lot of people inclined for this will be able to bring their own gear anyways.”Much as you would have liked to think about showing the Fealinnese the wrath a singular tank platoon could wreak, while you could probably buy a bunch of heroes weapons, a singular tank would cost…quite a bit. Those who sold them tended to be unexcited about making individual sales to eccentrics, as well. That and they were still weapons new enough that nobody wanted to be rid of them that badly. As Leo said, you would have to resort to cleverness. Or perhaps cleverness in procurement, if you were to give this your all.“How long are you planning to prepare?” You asked, “The way things are now, I doubt that the Lands Assembly will want to put off action. If it comes down to dividing up territory, the way they see it, if there’s going to be a change like that, they want to capture as much as they can, instead of having Fealinn suddenly on their borders, looking for the next place to expand.”“I’ll need a few months at least,” Leo said, “How much do you know about the Fealinnese Army?”You did have some knowledge on that, actually, even if you weren’t an expert. “They’re not to be underestimated. The Gilician Continuation Command, back during the Gilician Conflict, were making successful attacks against them, but they were less successful over time. The better it got for us down south, the better prepared the Fealinnese seemed to get. These days, they’re probably as good as they were back when they were a Protectorate of the Reich. Their army still looks the part.”“That lines up with what I know.” Leo nodded, “That they’re not to be underestimated. The people who led their independence movement were all generals and officers from their lands, and they’re ambitious as hell. They’re occupying part of the Auratus, I’m sure you’ve heard, while they’re still fighting the Gilicians and the Holherezhi both. Though from what I’ve heard they’re just playing the long game south. Trading ground for time. With how they’re rolling west, it might be a good gamble they’re taking. They’re doing really well for themselves.”“What I’ve heard is that they have benefactors from people in the Reich,” you said, “Felbach is the Emrean Republic’s pet, so they get the majority of their help. Fealinn’s buildup is more pastiche, but it’s true, they’re more than talk, recently.” Though they were also matching themselves against countries their size. Vitelia, for example, you could anticipate defeating them if the matter of Auratus came to blows, as some fully expected it should, considering the slap in the face it was.
“We’ll have our work cut out for us.” Leo said, examining his cup’s contents while judging what was left in the pot with a testing lift. “But even if Holherezh doesn’t last a week and we come in when there’s no war any longer, just being able to get right to the border will be enough. I’ve had to fight with worse odds before.” As he was here, and had never suffered a major wound, it was unsaid that he had managed to win nevertheless. “I’ll find somebody to keep us in touch in the meantime, Bonetto. This isn’t something we can just plan over plain mail services.”“We have a courier, don’t we? One that doesn’t extort the likes of us.”Leo realized, and snapped his fingers. “You’re right, Bonetto, we do. Speaking of, our families are probably waiting for us, now. Let’s chug the rest of this and get back to them. They’re looking forward to a festival.”“Let’s not scald ourselves so badly that we’ll need a cooling beer too early,” you said. “Or whatever the hell the mossheads drink around here, eh?” Leo held his cup out for yours to clink against, “For the Future.”Though admittedly, indeed, what you were thinking of now was less the festival of the near, and more what was to come beyond.Namely, just what you should spend your energies on trying to get in the time available. Could you try to bring everybody you had come to know together for this? Maybe, but you were going to be a very busy man in the times to come, and you couldn’t afford to spread yourself too thinly…>Find and appeal to the members of your old platoon, to your oldest comrades. They were wealthier in general, and perhaps your assets pooled could give the greatest value…though they were admittedly fewest in number, and also quite Vitelian.>Perhaps the Black Coats might be interested in a good cause. You were the Black Knight for a reason, after all, and perhaps they were still loyal to an old name and face, that had a part in keeping them in a world that had forsaken them…>Seek new friends and allies amongst the units and institutions you’ve cultivated closer to home. The Republic Army Armored Arditi were the sorts hungry for glory, and surely, some could be found that might be willing to do something a bit more secret, though you’d surely need to call for favors from local authority for this.>Other?
>>5947221>Perhaps the Black Coats might be interested in a good cause. You were the Black Knight for a reason, after all, and perhaps they were still loyal to an old name and face, that had a part in keeping them in a world that had forsaken them…>Other? Dreamy revolutionairy youths?Just an idea. These type of boys are at any university.
>>5947221>Other?Partially Combine>Find and appeal to the members of your old platoon, to your oldest comrades. They were wealthier in general, and perhaps your assets pooled could give the greatest value…though they were admittedly fewest in number, and also quite Vitelian.and>Seek new friends and allies amongst the units and institutions you’ve cultivated closer to home. The Republic Army Armored Arditi were the sorts hungry for glory, and surely, some could be found that might be willing to do something a bit more secret, though you’d surely need to call for favors from local authority for this.Look for officer buddies that could command our "borrowed" troops, we could pitch it as an "exercise".
>>5947221>Other?Partially Combine>Find and appeal to the members of your old platoon, to your oldest comrades. They were wealthier in general, and perhaps your assets pooled could give the greatest value…though they were admittedly fewest in number, and also quite Vitelian.and>Seek new friends and allies amongst the units and institutions you’ve cultivated closer to home. The Republic Army Armored Arditi were the sorts hungry for glory, and surely, some could be found that might be willing to do something a bit more secret, though you’d surely need to call for favors from local authority for this.They say no new friends. I say get the new friends
>>5947221>Seek new friends and allies amongst the units and institutions you’ve cultivated closer to home. The Republic Army Armored Arditi were the sorts hungry for glory, and surely, some could be found that might be willing to do something a bit more secret, though you’d surely need to call for favors from local authority for this.
>>5947221>>Find and appeal to the members of your old platoon, to your oldest comrades. They were wealthier in general, and perhaps your assets pooled could give the greatest value…though they were admittedly fewest in number, and also quite Vitelian.
>>5947221>Perhaps the Black Coats might be interested in a good cause. You were the Black Knight for a reason, after all, and perhaps they were still loyal to an old name and face, that had a part in keeping them in a world that had forsaken them…Hopefully they're rich from those Southern City contracts.
>>5947221>Perhaps the Black Coats might be interested in a good cause. You were the Black Knight for a reason, after all, and perhaps they were still loyal to an old name and face, that had a part in keeping them in a world that had forsaken them…Remember, no Vitelian.
>>5947221>>Perhaps the Black Coats might be interested in a good cause. You were the Black Knight for a reason, after all, and perhaps they were still loyal to an old name and face, that had a part in keeping them in a world that had forsaken them…
>>5947221>>Seek new friends and allies amongst the units and institutions you’ve cultivated closer to home. The Republic Army Armored Arditi were the sorts hungry for glory, and surely, some could be found that might be willing to do something a bit more secret, though you’d surely need to call for favors from local authority for this.
>>5947221>“Sort of, but not really. Old buddies from the war. People who are sick of how long it’s taken some of us to come back home. Makes some strange allies. Some people were on the Gilician side of things.”I don't think having Gilicians and mossheads having to operate together will go well.
>>5947221>Perhaps the Black Coats might be interested in a good cause. You were the Black Knight for a reason, after all, and perhaps they were still loyal to an old name and face, that had a part in keeping them in a world that had forsaken them…
>>5947223Black Coats and Like Minds.>>5947224>>5947225Old friends, new blood.>>5947270>>5947365>>5947595The local ambitions.>>5947285Bring the boys back together.>>5947367>>5947401>>5947431>>5947689>>5947709Darksiders.I'll mesh these together where appropriate, calling things in an hour.
>>5947741Can't recall when exactly but there's still a bit until the Reich reabsorbs Fealinn right?
>>5947796That happens in 1928. Not that anybody's expecting it right now, since the new Kaiser hasn't even been crowned yet and a regency full of Republicans is still running the show.Until then, there's some time for the northwest to be completely messed up because of the lack of the Reich looming over it all.
Alright, no changes.What I expected considering the time passed, but still. Writing.
Allies could come from many places, with where you’d been and what you had done, but when the criteria was concealing (direct) Vitelian involvement and the motivation was mercenary, there was a particular group that fit the bill. People you’d done right by, perhaps given more than deserved. They could live in peace and prosperity if they wished because you had seen fit not to sacrifice them, and they had earned renown under your command. Ironic that the people who would have been you and Cesare’s greatest enemies once might now prove to be your friend’s chance at being saved. It was no guarantee of a force ready to join you, and you could offer no reward save for what there had been before, and the draw of amiability. Yet there had been hundreds of the Imperial Exiles, and if only one in five, only one in ten were to join you, it would be enough for the limited scope of the scheme. More could be counted if you extended the offer to those who had joined to chase after the repute of the original Black Battalion’s members. How many still lingered in Gilicia? It might not matter, if Leo was reaching as far as the eastern edge of the continent. Some would assuredly come no matter the distance.What might Leo bring to supplement such, you wondered. He had been free to roam, and Vitelia still welcomed trade from all over. Its ships still reached far, unlike the north’s isolation. He himself couldn’t be sure of what might present itself yet, and that meant the imagination had no boundaries.None of what you talked about would be shared with your families when you returned, but in time, they’d either have to be told, or it would have to be concealed. Neither settled well with you, given your promise to Yena…but what could be done? You would be fighting solely for yourself and your friends, not for any callous minded nation, and it was for a friend. A friend to Yena at that, even if he was not as close, he had still been scarred for her honor. Either she would understand…or it would be more an ease on her mind and that of your children to simply remain ignorant of what was going to happen, or that it had happened at all. The house was left as the sun began to set, a cloud of children followed by their parents, headed and herded by your eldest daughter. Now was the prime hour for all the vendors and entertainers to be doing their business, and even though the capital would have been throwing a bigger party, the less bombastic affair here would be a better visit by your measure, especially if you were letting your kids off on a long leash. Allowance had been given out, but you expected there to be begging afterwards. The Mystics from mountains the world over knew well their biggest buyers, and they would be making a pretty profit from their trinket hawking tonight, even if Trelani trade was made with paper and enameled iron rather than silver or gold.
The color of the cloth to wear, as was eagerly sold, was lily white scarves and shawls and ribbons, the cheaper ones simply bars of snow-white but embellished and embroidered with cloth flowers or designs of them, the same kind that were smoldered away in the lesser Emck than the one taking place over this week. Paper facsimiles and hand-picked bundles of more common white flowers were being offered for small change by children who seemed little put out by the fact that they had to work during a celebration, considering the ease with which their offerings were sold.“What do those weirdos do?” Marcella asked as your entire flock of children gathered around a heavily cloaked figure that seemed strangely familiar. “I’ve heard of mystics, but I didn’t think they’d look like that.”“Parlor magic, mostly,” you said, “They write spells and seals and make charms and other nonsense. Card and palm readings. They’re harmless.”“You’re eyein’ him kinda hard, El,” Marcella said to Elena. “You don’t agree?”“Mountainfolk say they’re not to be trusted,” Elena said, her eyes narrowed, “If you can’t see their face, they’re a tricky sort from who knows where that calls nowhere home.”The mystic either was comfortable with the suspicion or didn’t care, as he deftly made a little doll that was a miniature of himself on strings dance about with a skill you’d never seen demonstrated. Looking closer, the doll itself seemed to have its own doll, though you would have to be very close to see if it was handling its own performance as well as its master. “Bonetto,” Leo said in your ear, “I think we’ve seen that guy before. It’s been ten years, but don’t you think..?”“It is,” Yena said, listening in, and not nearly as cautious. “This is not so far from where he was, with how they wander.”The children were entranced for about ten minutes, before the poppet took a mock bow and the puppeteer waved his hand to shoo them off. “Let some others watch close, now,” he said in accented Vitelian, “I will be dancing all night, but there is plenty more to see, heh heh.”The kids went off, but Leo stayed, and you followed by as he walked up to the cloaked mystic.“Heh heh,” the big thing chortled strangely, “Have I seen you before?”“If you think it, yeah,” Leo said, “Are you selling anything?”
“Heh heh. My wares are too much for you, seaborne one. I didn’t come here to sell anything. I’ve merely come for fun.”Leo didn’t give up so easily for some reason. “I’ve got silver, if you prefer.”“No, no,” the mystic said, “I’ve nothing to offer tonight, though if you would like a reading of the cards, I will trade that for an autograph.” He glanced to you, “The same offer for you, if you wish, heh heh.”“…Maybe later,” Leo said, whispering to you, “Let’s go get back to the others, I have a feeling this guy’s not going anywhere.”Just as soon as Leo had stopped speaking with him, a new audience had formed and the doll was twirling and skipping again, so you had to agree.A curious thing you saw for sale at some of the higher end carts, representatives of workshops and other such potential toymakers, were toy soldiers of all sorts, tin facsimiles of tanks and little wood fur capped troops. Toy soldiers hadn’t been particularly popular toys in Trelan last you knew. Was this some not so subtle move by Union Party members? They were certainly being sold cheaply for things that seemed rather well made. “Must you?” Yena sighed when every child was bought a selection of soldiers and miniature materiel, the collective gathering forming quite a formidable troop.“They’re not cork guns, dearest,” you said to Yena, “You won’t be having volleys aimed at your butt.” Luigi was not the inheritor of that particular toy, Vittoria and Lorenzo having progressed to mischief with hand catapults. “I would prefer they play with goats and animals again,” Yena said forlornly, “The army is a poor example for children so young.”“Not necessarily,” Leo objected, “If they’re delinquent, a martial upbringing can be good for children. Especially ones lacking a structure at home.”“Well,” Yena sniffed, “That’s not a problem for ours.”
Your wife’s petty annoyance was soothed over with the turning over of coin for the accoutrement of the days to come, a uniform not of fighting men but of plain white lengths of wispy cloth with hanging tassels at their ends. As the month was still of summer, they weren’t substantial, even if Trelan was not so hot as Vitelia would be in these times. Streams of festival goers trailed up the roads towards the center where the Emck flower sculpture would be, steadily being assembled from the layered-on wish talismans brought to it, mostly from youths and children whose whimsy was being stoked. Along the way there were various centers of activity to “earn” these simple papers with space for dreams upon them with little wax seals and white threads at their peaks with a tassel. Games for the children like tossing stones or sheep-rolling (fake sheep, not real ones, which might disappoint some at home) or tug of war, or painting sticks and murals covered in childish doodling. The kids were all having good fun with such things, but that didn’t mean this was merely an event for the enjoyment of the young.The things meant for adults weren’t the sort that children couldn’t look at, like a tavern or something such, but they definitely couldn’t be participated in by anybody but those grown for good reason. Some competitive spirit compelled you to try for at least one, in the spirit of things…>Plenty of hotheads were getting into a boxing tournament. You wouldn’t be a slouch here, though you would have to keep Leo from participating if you had any hope of winning…>An arena was set up for a contest against a living stone the size of an automobile- and a cash prize was available for any willing to put up their ante for a game of keep away. The land crab wouldn’t really hurt anybody- at least, such was what was insisted.>It’d be as flattering to your ego as much as one of your party’s to enter a lady into a beauty contest. Especially knowing she’d win, considering…right?>Look for something else?Also->Anything else to do or talk about here, while you have this group around?
>>5947999>“Mountainfolk say they’re not to be trusted,” Elena said, her eyes narrowed, “If you can’t see their face, they’re a tricky sort from who knows where that calls nowhere home.Would this apply to Mal, or it just applies to mystics and soulbinders?>It’d be as flattering to your ego as much as one of your party’s to enter a lady into a beauty contest. Especially knowing she’d win, considering…right?Our wife, obviously>Anything else to do or talk about here, while you have this group around?.Fuck it, bring everyone round for Signore Poltergeist's Tarot.
>>5947999>>5948005+1
>>5948005>Would this apply to Mal, or it just applies to mystics and soulbinders?You may have noticed that certain mountainfolk, not all of them but a notable amount of them, like putting markings or tattoos on their faces. Not having such a marking doesn't really mean anything, but the idea of hiding your face brings up the possibility of hiding something you'd rather not people see, not just the general mistrust of strange masked wanderers. Especially when some things are brands rather than paint, or a permanent sort of tattoo.Malachi in story had abjectly refused to let anybody see his face, and this would rightly be interpreted as very suspect.
>>5947999>It’d be as flattering to your ego as much as one of your party’s to enter a lady into a beauty contest. Especially knowing she’d win, considering…right?
>>5947999>>An arena was set up for a contest against a living stone the size of an automobile- and a cash prize was available for any willing to put up their ante for a game of keep away. The land crab wouldn’t really hurt anybody- at least, such was what was insisted.>Anything else to do Get a card reading from that mystic. I'm curious as to why he would want our autograph. Surely we aren't famous enough for such a thing to be valuable, even if he knows who we are?
>>5947999>An arena was set up for a contest against a living stone the size of an automobile- and a cash prize was available for any willing to put up their ante for a game of keep away. The land crab wouldn’t really hurt anybody- at least, such was what was insisted.We gots to play the crab game. Also, supporting >>5948519 because there is no such thing as too much Polty.
Alright, I'm up. Enough abuse has finally knocked my sleep schedule back into line, even if it was the equivalent of smashing a track in several places and putting them back together backwards before actually fixing it.>>5948005>>5948020>>5948081>>5948180The proclamation that Vitelian mossheads are just better.>>5948519>>5948546Crabbing time.Also getting card readings done by a weirdo.Writing.
As tempting as facing off against a living stone might be, the other option would be just as flattering to your ego, if not more so. A beauty contest was finalizing its entrance process, well supported by outside funds from the look of things. One cause that the Lands Assembly could always agree on was getting more of its people out there getting to business. Though the culture had to be respected, as you noticed that while Pohja and other minorities were just about everywhere else, their dull colors could not be seen waiting to show off their charms here. An outsider might have thought that the brown of certain strands of Nief’yem and the brown of most Pohja was similar, but when one was more familiar with the spectrum of northwestern peoples, they’d see where the brown tended towards a stoney hue, their fairer shades a steely silver like Ydela’s, in a way. Neither hue was seen as attractive compared to the blessing of Yjens, which your wife and most of your children could claim to display.Yena’s thirty second birthday had been just ten days ago, so she wouldn’t have the advantage of youth like many hopefuls did, but age and the toil of five children had failed to mar her features in the long term, and a year between Chiara’s birth and now had restored Yena to her relative peak. It was impossible not to be biased, but Yena had wide hips, an appreciably grown chest, a thin waist and beauteous long tresses of verdant jade hair that reached down to her thighs, a length of hair that by itself was difficult to cultivate and maintain for any woman who hadn’t been doing so for many years.“Signore Bonaventura,” a recently familiar face greeted you after you had signed up Yena and loosed her upon the place for preparations, “You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”“Assemblyman Saulius,” you recognized the politician with a small nod of your head and approached him, clasped his hand. Nathan Saulius was an important cog in the political machine of the Union Party, a stout man with a clean, round chin and a mane of brown hair edged with entrances of gray, clad in a pressed chocolate colored three-piece suit and small brimmed hat. He was a carouser and a gentleman at first glance, but it hid a rather unorthodox side of him where Trelani politics had a limit to how cutthroat they could get. Anybody who pushed the boundaries too far risked Saulius leaning upon his extremely wide set of connections and becoming completely politically isolated. His sub-faction within the Union Party could be held responsible for its rise- as well as the fall of anybody who dared to rock the boat too much. “You’ve seen my wife. How could I not be bold?”
“This contest was more envisioned for bachelorettes, you know,” the representative said, a capital man of capital interests, “Would it be more sporting to let the younger ladies have a chance on the podium? They’re the ones the young men should wish to chase, after all.”“They’ll become complacent if they’re simply allowed it,” you said. “The Republic of Trelan’s ambition is better served by stoking such fires, don’t you think?”“Perhaps so, signore,” Saulius smiled, “But you shouldn’t count your eggs too early. Not every judge or voter might appreciate the symbol scribed upon her cheek.”“All the wise ones would see the value in there being no deception, atop everything else.” You countered, “Would you be against Yena’s triumph?”“Not at all, not at all,” the assemblyman said, “I merely make the offer of consulting for any doubts, if you wish it.”“That won’t be necessary,” you waved a hand, “I think the Union Party will be very pleased with the conclusions that are being made without any fingers pushing the scales.”“Oh?” A glint in his eye, “New information, I take it? But if you are confident about that as much as you are of winning this lady’s match, then so be it, there won’t be any advice needed on the part of people with eyes to see.” Saulius set his hands behind his back, “You know, the entrance of your claimed woman into a spectacle, it reminds me of a practice on the other side of the Sho’reshmiz.” The Eastern Root, as the mountainfolk referred to the Imperial Gate, unconcerned with its new name or the name before that. “The Archduchy of Strossvald.”“Quite far from here.”“But a reliable gauge on what is happening on the southeast edge of the continent, for those interested,” Saulius continued, “They publish a collection of their most attractive noblewomen in exclusive periodicals, extremely provocative images of them, in fact. I’m reminded of this by you.” “I doubt this will be provocative, Assemblyman.” Though Yena had a piece of foreign fashion that would doubtless be the top of such an attempt. “They probably try towards excess to counter their lack of notability, I expect.” Strossvald’s peak was when they defeated the Reich. Afterwards, they were merely another Sosalian squabbler, less important in the greater scheme, Vitelian analysts had decided, than Valsten. Perhaps that might change with the latter’s breakup, though. “I expect you to be congratulating me when the hour comes.”“We shall see, Signore. But for the future, I am most giddy for your commission’s report on our martial readiness.”“Until then.”Back to your friends and your children you went, Chiara passed off to Elena to care for while Vittoria held Ydela by a small hand. “You won’t enter, Marcella?” you asked, half in jest.
“Nah,” Marcella tipped her chin up, “They won’t appreciate what I’ve got to bring to the table, anyways. Where’re all the cars here, Bonetto? Even back home the streets’ve been getting’ noisey. Thinking of starting up a proper garage, since the kids ain’t so little.”While Marcella had grown no less careless about showing such off, her loose white sleeveless blouse unable to be buttoned above any line that catered to decency, that aided her little more than drawing astounded eyes- mountainfolk did tend to not have such a buxom shape, and it was true enough that Marcella’s hair was too short and scruffy and her arms too muscular to be seen as charming by most of the locals. So too was the depth of rare mechanical skill unappreciated. “The trolleys are enough for most, and imports have to go through Kallec.” Suffice it to say, the apparently rising Vitelian automobile industry didn’t have a good vector here, with the current crisis on the border in Paellan territory. “Unless a path is carved through the mountains, I don’t think it’ll change.”“This country isn’t poor,” Leo said, “They could make them here, if they wanted them, I’ll bet.”That would make procurement of your pet unit’s equipment a hell of a lot easier for certain. “Maybe once I’m wealthier.” And if you were forced to stay for longer than you wished. “Or maybe you can stay a bit longer?”Leo gave you a sad look. “Too much to do at home, Bonetto. I’m not a globetrotting blue-blooded venture capitalist.” Neither should you be, and yet.The contest was prepared for over the next hour, and when the time came, the showing of ladies was quite public, though an elimination process had clearly already taken place. All contestants were redressed in simple white dresses, loose and flowing though clearly cinched tight over the waist to flare the all-important hips. Mountainfolk women were naturally blessed as a rule in this regard, but Yena had had five children, and the difference was stark as the length of hair. It was no surprise to you whatsoever therefore that she was adorned with the crown of leaves and little red and orange flowers, and a white fringed sash that symbolized being the most beauteous of a mountain, though you could have sworn you’d seen such a thing before on her…“You have,” Yena said, a small, melancholy smile on her face in remembrance, “I thought it was overbearing. My father gave me the right to wear it.”“What did you do with it?” you asked, stroking Yena’s hair behind her ears, “You clearly still deserve it.”
“When I was…” she hesitated, “I…threw it away. I was so ashamed, and everyone was ashamed of me.” Yena laughed hollowly, “These are supposed to be given to virgins, Palmiro. I suppose they do things differently here.”“The state here demands far less in taxes because you have five children, love,” you said to her, “A virgin would have no children.”Though you wouldn’t doubt that the perception of a woman in a faithful and bountiful marriage was much, much more easy to sell as a good thing than how Yena had left Monte Nocca- as a soiled and pitiful girl, the measures taken to avenge the wrong against her not cleansing her in the eyes of her tribe. Yet she hadn’t returned to them for a long time…and Yena reminisced still, in her belief that the children should know their ancestors.“Great job, yeny!” Marcella came up and held Yena’s hands, “Bonetto must be sailin’ on clouds, huh?”You were certainly happy about it, smug even, but you remembered how you’d told Saulius of what you would be deciding, and couldn’t help but wonder if he had decided to flatter your family as a favor. He hadn’t appeared to confirm that, but you couldn’t help but wonder still. You wouldn’t think that Yena would need the help, her lead in popular voting had been substantial enough, but for certain, outside influence could have led to a decision against her by other judges. There were certain Nief’yem, after all, who saw the marriage of green haired girls to people not of the mountains as an insult to them, even if it wasn’t like you plucked Yena from this place.Maybe you were overthinking things. Let Yena have her win, you decided. You were hardly going to second guess her being the beauty queen of the city, perhaps even of the country.Afterwards, the night dragged on, but at the very end of festivities, the streets were cleared out for a special occasion. Each night, you learned, a different unit of the military would be parading through the streets. A rather recent decision, with the surprise many people expressed, but the children were excited nevertheless. Tonight, lit by the gaudy displays of colored lamps and fiery spouts of braziers, broad chested Republican Guardsmen marches through the roads, adorned with cockades on their helmets and wreaths of flowers on the tops of their black standards, new parade rifles shining with chroming. A gentler side of the reforms going on, as they showed much of the fashion and little of the killing might that would be found added to the army over the past decade.All tired out by the night, your children were carried where possible early on, as many crowds remained out as the beer, wine and mead continued to flow. As you walked back, the mystic from before remained where you had last seen his show, standing still as he entertained no audience, staring at the sky inscrutably until he noticed you stopping in front of him, bidding everybody else to keep on going.
“Heh heh. You’re back,” the tall figure said, somehow looming even higher than before, until he squatted on his heels like he had been doing when playing with the puppets. “You’ll make the trade, I take it?”“I have no idea why you’d want my signature,” you said, “I’m hardly famous enough for that.”“But you are famous, are you not, Palmiro Bonaventura? Your humility rings hollow, heh heh.”Famous for what, you had to wonder. It could be many things, depending on how well informed this random weirdo was. “Then maybe I should ask for more than a card reading in exchange.”“Heh heh. Don’t act like a fair haired Vyemani. I am not bartering. Are you not one who would not view society in terms of the value of an individual over another?” The mystic reached into his voluminous coat and pulled out a small black stone-covered book bound with bright blue cordage, that clacked as he flipped it open, and with his other hand, he retrieved a rather expensive looking ebony and enamel fountain pen that was entirely unlike what a wandering mystic should have. “Your part, first.”“I see you don’t lack for money in spite of your occupation,” you said as you took the pen and looked down the paper of the book, divided by well lines sections. A cluster of names would precede yours, but you didn’t care to see who they belonged to. Perhaps just other people who used such their scribing as a kind of coin.“Heh heh. Just so. Though I wander enough to find plenty of things abandoned and wanting for a good home.” You drew your signature, and gave silent thanks for the practice you had gotten with it in your duties with the Twentieth Century Commission. It was no longer the messy thing you might have been satisfied with back in the Azure Halls. “Heh heh. Thank you kindly.”“Why do you laugh so much?” You asked.“Heh heh. There’s a lot to find funny in this world of ours. Why not laugh?”Maybe the influence of herbal intoxicants was to blame for such a sense of humor. “Deal your cards to me then, Mystic.” You’d already heeded the words of a colossal crustacean, or perhaps just a big rock that looked like one capping a mountain. A satisfaction of curiosity would be worth the price of this admission.The book was returned to the coat, and in its place in the mystic’s hand came a deck of cards with a sheen to them like scales peeled off a great fish, cut into soft edged playing cards, their back sides painted with an odd, swirling paint that layered black on top of sparkling metallic notes, like looking into a dark night sky illuminated with naught but the stars. The mystic shuffled the deck with a single dexterous hand, clicking strangely as his fingers moved altogether too quickly, like you were looking at a wriggling spider’s legs instead of human extremities.
His other hand then moved, sweeping low to spread the cards over an unfurling mat produced with the same motion, a luxurious thing of blue and gold geometry that was arranged in a way to fool the eye into motion. “Pick a card, then. It matters not which one, your will find you.”You did so, and turned it over. An unfamiliar design to you- an illustration of a man in blood-soaked armor and a tabard so spoiled it had no color save crimson, a bloody blade in one hand, and a crown of gold and gems grasped tightly in his other, both held high over a field of broken spears and tattered flags with storm clouds raging behind.“The Tyrant, of the Suit of Crowns, Nemesis of Order.”“I mislike this card,” you said disdainfully. “It implies evil in those who draw it by nothing but chance.”“You are the one who drew it, heh heh. But do not be so disappointed in fate’s whisper. The Crowns are like the Knights. Their domains of Order and Power are not meant to be thought of as good nor evil. The Tyrant may rise to a throne for reasons unjust to Order, but perhaps the Order is flawed, or it is broken in a way that rising to Kingship through it is in and of itself an evil. The cards are full of doubts. Though if you wish another card, you could always find one in the deck of another, heh heh.”“So what now,” you asked, “This isn’t it, right?”“No. A full reading first requires your sigil, to anchor you. Now, you ask your questions of the cards. We’ll say three. The more specific you are, the better, because if your question is too vague or grand in scale…heh heh, the cards will give you an answer as suitably empty. Combine a breath with the sky and it is nothingness from the start. Breath pushed into a horn makes a note that can be heard as music. You understand, of course. It is all nonsense unless you hear a song in the answer the cards give you, heh heh.”>You may ask three questions of the cards. (Try to keep it to one per voter)Also->You may ask things...not of the cards, if you wish. For some reason.
>>5950068>You may ask three questions of the cards.Will my children live happy lives? The Dawn is coming and surely struggle along with it, but will they be happy?
>>5950068>Will I see my family after all of this has concluded?(Aka after the war and the new dawn)
>>5950068>I have a friend who I haven't seen for about a decade, trapped in captivity. Is he relatively hale in body and spirit at least?
>>5950068>You may ask things...not of the cards, if you wish. For some reason. Can we see Leo's card?
>>5950068>>You may ask things...not of the cards, if you wish. For some reason.If you can see the future why do you live like this?
>>5950068>You may ask things...not of the cards, if you wish. For some reason.Your thoughts on Utopianism, wanderer. You seem the sort to have traveled and seen much around the continent
>>5950068Will my eldest daughter follow my footsteps?
Sorry for the delays, people, I'm trying to get stuff drawn and it just feels like trying to climb up a flat concrete slab, it's incredibly aggravating.
Yeah this just isn't happening tonight either. I'll post tomorrow.
Alright, about time to get the ball back rolling considering how much has to happen.>>5950106>>5950128>>5950136>>5950199>>5950296>>5950419Questions for this weirdo about your children and what will happen! And a few other things.Updating, finally. After I make dinner.
“I’m curious,” you said to the Mystic, “My friend earlier, Leo, who you made this offer to earlier. What’s his card?”“He’d have to choose it,” the Mystic said, “Though I imagine you already know what you’d like it to be anyways, if you are the same suite, heh heh…”“Enlighten me to what this suite is,” you said, “I wouldn’t suppose they are cups and coins, or Emrean playing cards either.”“Heh heh. These are not simple cards to play Twenty-One with, these are Suites of Fate.” He took four cards out and flipped them over in his fingers to show you. “Very well. This is the Suite of Crowns. The Prince and the Tyrant, of Order, and the Throne and the Charity, of Power. The latter tend towards those who are born with the stuff of rulership, while the former tend solely towards ambition and fortune. I would say your friend would draw from the pair of Order. Now, what do you seek of the cards for yourself?”“Alright,” you looked over to the others, who had noticed you lingering behind now, and had stopped. “My children. Will they live happy lives? Will they follow in my footsteps? After all is said and done, in the trials to come, will we be united?”“Aren’t you morose,” the mystic said, “One more. Those are rather similar.”Fine then. “I have a friend who I haven’t seen for about a decade, trapped in captivity since the Emrean War by our enemies. Is he hale?”“You ask of fate, and fate answers with its signs,” the Mystic said as he shuffled his deck again and laid it all out in a circle. “Take three and turn them on their face.”No point in not taking three from the same place and turning them over all at once. The designs that greeted you were as intricate and illuminated as before.“The Wedding, the Storm, and the Peace,” the Mystic pointed to each, “In order, perhaps as consequences of one another. A reunion, a creation, a meeting of consequence. Then, a great misfortune, conflict, or an inescapable path. Beyond…stillness.”Was this for one? No, it must have been for all. “I do not like this portent.”“They are only cards, heh heh,” the Mystic shrugged, “In times of old, when the portents were poor, those who received them would read them another way, or they would simply take them again the next day. People prefer the future to line up with their expectations, heh heh.”
“For somebody who tells the future,” You mused, “You live rather strangely. Perhaps the cards don’t read so well for you.”“Heh heh. I prefer to keep my future unknowable, and thus eminently mutable. I’ve lived like this for a very long time, and I’m quite satisfied.”A curious individual such as this led you to ask, in spite of yourself, in spite of the likelihood that some nomadic masked mystic probably had as much proper education as a Vyemani vagrant that had just tried to sell you the shirt off his back, about a particular bit of wisdom. “Tell me, wanderer,” you said, “With where you’ve ventured, you must have heard of this. What are your thoughts on the coming dawn on Utopianism? Or has everywhere you gone not known such a thing?”“Heh heh. Heh heh.” The Mystic chortled to himself, “What a question to ask me. Are you going to ask me what my birthday is, too? My favorite theatrical production?”The image of this creature in an audience made you bite your tongue to keep from smirking. “Just the Utopianism subject. I’m already happily married.”“Heh heh. Utopianism. I’ve little good to say about it. Are you still interested?”“I am unafraid of hard truths.”“Heh heh, heh. You would stand out amongst Utopians, then. They have a vision of a world that they have no idea how to create, and blame the rest of the world for not playing pretend. The Emrean Revolutionaries soaked the lands with blood after their war was as good as won, yet it is because their countrymen lacked the will to finish the Revolution, that they have fallen from favor. They did nothing wrong themselves, of course. The dreams of Utopians are appealing, for what fool wouldn’t want to live in Utopia? But reactionary and revolutionary tyrants both show their colors in their contempt for the people they claim to serve. Those are my thoughts on the general concepts of Utopianism. A sparkling curtain of sheer to be blinded by with, worth whatever it takes to glimpse past it to the shadows of beauties dancing behind.”“What ineffable wisdom you have,” you said with a cold serenity, “To know perfectly a revolution that has yet to pass. Are you sure your cards don’t see the future clear as crystal?”“Touched a nerve, have I? Heh heh. I am but a humble entertainer, dear Palmiro Augusto Bonaventura. You are the worker of your future, not I.”“Palmiro,” Yena had returned, the children of the lot of you swarmed about in a loose ring. Her face was distraught, and you reflexively put your hands to her cheeks. “Come along now, it’s no good to speak to somebody like that for too long.”You glanced back to the mystic, then to Yena again. “Alright. I’ll be right along.” You spoke one last thing to the mystic. “The Wedding, the Storm, and the Peace, you said.”
“Mere warnings, not destiny, he heh. You are the architect of your fate, not pictures on cards. The same is true, heh heh,” He squatted down again, as Vittoria had drawn close, and he got face to face with her, looming over, “Of your precious children.” He splayed his hand open oddly before Vittoria, and Vittoria stared. “What do you see, little girl?”Vittoria reached out, and grasped for nothing, then blinked and stared at her empty hand.The Mystic rose. “Your daughter has an uncommon talent,” he said vaguely, “If you wish to play the greatest part in her fate, then send her on pilgrimage when she is of age…or do not. That will speak the most for if she follows in your footsteps, whatever those may be, heh heh...” he whirled on a heavy boot, and walked away down the hill without another word.“What do you mean?” You demanded afterwards, but Yena pulled you away, and no response was forthcoming anyways.-----Leo’s family would be staying at an inn, and Elena would return to her own old room up in Travaglio, taking the last cable car ride of the day up. They’d both be around for some time longer, though you’d have to be going to work the next day.Your dreams were full of the Mystic’s cryptic words, and a future you felt powerless against in spite of his meager reassurances. Visions of remaining in exile for the rest of your life, and Lorenzo and Luigi conscripted by an ungrateful Republic and sent to die for it in a war somehow of your making. Just desserts for sins ongoing.When you woke again, it was to a familiar wet feeling.“Dearest,” you sat up slowly and stretched out your arms, then caressed Yena’s head, bobbing against your lap. “I thought you said Elena was coming over early this morning.”Yena’s mouth rose with a small gasp for breath, then a huff, and she pouted at you, holding your stiff manhood against her cheek with her lip put out, “Then you should hurry up, shouldn’t you?”You and your wife got dressed after that was done with, your appreciation shown, though the act had gone unasked for. You’d long learned to not question the whims of Yena’s libido, and the children were still all asleep when Elena knocked at the door.“Good morning,” you said to Elena, and you let her in, your childhood friend closely followed by her adopted son, who was blinking blearily. “The coffee’s about ready.”“Thanks,” she said, entering the house and looking around. “The kids not out n’ about?”
“Last night tired them out,” you said, “It’s quite early. You must have been on the first cable car ride down, to get here now.” The time being six fifteen in the morning.“I wanted t’ see ya before you went to work,” Elena said, “I wanted to pick up some make up stuff from Yena. ‘s better here, since…well, y’know,” her fingers brushed her cheek, “I’m pretty old now, Bonetto…I’ve been lonely, and I ain’t getting’ younger, so I figure that Yena knows best. She don’t even got no stretchin’ on her, y’know? Guess you would.”“I have it,” Yena said quickly as she rushed down the stairs, “Morning, El…” She panted as she pushed a small round wooden cosmetic container into Elena’s hands. You weren’t sure of which one it was. “Did it work out alright last time?”“It…might’ve been old,” Elena glanced down, “S’not yer fault.”“Well, this isn’t,” Yena said, “Nobody will be able to tell when you’re forty years old with a daub when you get up and when you go to sleep.”“Uh huh,” Elena said, “…Could y’ go over how to, again?”“Isn’t it a facial cosmetic?” You asked, “It’s rather simple, isn’t it?”“It is not,” Yena waved a finger, “Time takes its toll elsewhere than the face alone. Come on, El.”They were going upstairs. “Can’t you do that here?” You asked.“Not unless you let Elena wear my Atom Suit,” Yena said crossly, “We’ll be right down again.”…Women. Though you wondered if Marcella would have been interested in this seeming reversal of ageing, but then again, she already had a man wrangled.Perhaps Elena was right, in that she’d need every advantage, considering that she had elected to adopt Benito, who sat meekly at the kitchen table.“Do you drink coffee, Benito?” you joked with him. “No…” He yawned.“What do you drink, then, milk?”“Yeah…”What a wordy five-year-old he was. -----After some time chatting with your wife and Elena, and the kids as they got up in turn, it was time for a rather big day at the Twentieth Century Commission’s place of operation. The finishing touches were to be placed on an evaluation report on the feasibility of an armed operation in the very near future, considering what had been happening just the next country over. The problems that had to be considered, the stakes of what might happen, and the capability of the present Trelani Republican Army were to be weighed to gauge what actions should be taken when it came to any intervention in what was referred to as the Northwest War.
The Union Party, and much of the Republic’s more jingoistic population, already had an answer they wanted. The upcoming 1920 Summer Report wasn’t meant to sway them, but the members of the minority party coalitions. A rather hefty majority vote was necessary for any declarations of armed conflict, after all, and the Union Party was not so powerful as to decide that out of turn, even if they themselves were still in debate not about whether there would be a war, but what the goals of such a thing would be. Goals that would be defined by you and your office.Firstly, you read through an assessment of Holherezh- the country that any interventions would be taking place in, as it directly bordered Trelan. No matter what, if there was a war, it would go through this neighbor.Holherezh was not a rich country, or possessed of a flourishing culture or intellectual influence beyond its place in the world. Its people were farmers and ranchers, who grew beets and greens and roots. The notable outlier crop being a strange sort of plant called a Cow Poppy, an ancient bulbous-bottomed cultivar that grew more strongly than its typical cousin, though was grown for the same secretion. Its trade was in cattle and opium, in iron and coal, though most of it went elsewhere as its own industrial capabilities were small. The Holherezhi people were a culture either raised to the saddle or tied to the land, the two castes no longer legally officiated but still deeply culturally bound. The ranchers and horsefolk made up the more prestigious, martial class, and to be a grown adult amongst them meant to take from another whether one was a man or woman, so raiding and looting was common both within and on the edges of the country. Great pride was taken in multicolored alternating bands of beads and knit weavings, each material and color a separate accomplishment of pillage or triumph, the best amongst them striped like tigers. Their internal relations were fractious and competitive, but the bluster and brawling hid deeper connections amongst blood and clan, where newcomers were readily accepted, but few thought of, or were even allowed, to leave. A fierce people, that the Nief’yem looked down upon seeing them as unexceptional from other Pohja, but at least Trelan’s contempt for them was rooted in wrongs committed over centuries by their wanton culture.
The land and people were not of particular interest to Trelan, however. Nobody spoke of or desired occupation- they thought of replacing the existing government with a Republic of their own appointment. Holherezh was ostensibly already a Republic, but it was far from a democratic one, instead being made up of various regional aristocrats who rather firmly directed their people to vote on a president of their collective choosing. The ideal result for Trelan was thus to turn Holherezh’s authorities into an amenable puppet, rather than these troublesome confederates. The Nief’yem minority would also be scooped up, but in theory, the main boon was to create a buffer between Trelan and the increasingly aggressively expansionist Fealinn, as well as shutting down for good the border troubles and disputes that had gone on for decades.Opposing this result would, of course, be the Holherezh Militant, an army made up of a smattering of official armed forces that mixed a warrior class officerial and manager corps with masses of conscripts and volunteers alike. They worked together with various irregulars made up of tribal raiders and rogues of varying skill and armament based off of their own private wealth, along with a corps of mercenaries that had been brought over, mercenaries of all stripes being common on all sides of the Northwest War, but those hired by Holherezh being ones of particularly unsavory and brutish character, either from desperation or, as the Union Party would put it, a baseline affinity to barbarity in the first place.None of these forces were particularly impressively equipped. The best of their infantry and cavalry could be said to be equivalent to their potential Trelani rivals, but Holherezh lacked artillery, and most of their soldiery was on par to what Trelan had before you had arrived, with efforts to modernize their forces only having materialized after the Fealinnese had mustered their full effort to conquer them in the past year. They had no tanks, no aircraft, and even if they were not heavily involved in fighting on their eastern flank, the Holherezhi would decidedly have been defeated in a straight up conflict, the Commission had decided easily.
Besides the Holherezhi, the other Pohja-centric concern was Wezkatinbach. Ohtiz was uninvolved in the conflict, besides independent volunteers and adventurers, being safely wrapped by the mountains and the sea and content to try and trade and sustain rather than invite destruction on themselves. The northernmost Pohja nation was not so passive, and having just lost a chunk of territory to Felbach while also making peace with Holherezh to fight Fealinn, they would likely not stand by if Trelan invaded. Their armed forces had been equipped and organized by the Grossreich in the past, but they had also been defeated by Felbach. Thus, the opinion of them was that they would be on even standing with the new Trelan Republican Army, though being distracted against the Fealinnese incursion could tip the balance. A limited operation in Holherezh might even avoid coming into conflict with them whatsoever, if Trelan did not press northwards enough to become more threatening than the post-Reich protectorate states. The most ambitious plans of the Lands Assembly and their affiliated ideologues proposed, though, that Trelan should strike while the northwest was weak in general, which would require defeating the Wezkatinbacher army in the field and storming their cities. This was viewed as still plausible, though only after Holherezh was soundly defeated, and without the intervention of the third factor.The Fealinnese. Theoretically, they were only a successor state to the Reich protectorate, made up of the same people, the same military forces, yet they had found themselves flush with enough support to not only trounce Holherezh as Trelan might have done, but also to occupy part of the Auratus and fight to their south in Gilicia as well, even if they were losing ground there. It defied logic- unless they were either very good fighters, or much better equipped than one might think, for whatever reason. Analysts and hearsay hadn’t been able to conclude on why, but the Twentieth Century Commission’s sources could generally agree on one thing. That it would be better for Trelan not to fight them. Not unless, that is, Wezkatinbach could be suffered to be approached as an ally rather than an enemy. Something the Union Party thought little of as a concept. Much better to work with them in dividing the northwest, if possible, if working with them at all.However, with Leo’s plan to rescue Cesare, you would be planning to fight Fealinn no matter what happened, even if it was on a very limited scope.
So such were the three conclusions. Firstly, a quick and rapid seizure of Holherezh’s southern reaches, to get to their mountains and also to secure the border and establish a buffer. Secondly, an attempt to completely subdue the northwest by defeating Wezkatinbach as well, which it was uncertain if the Trelani Republican Army could accomplish in its current state. Finally…the last advisement. A deal with a devil, as it were. Divide Holherezh with Wezkatinbach, and propose to work with them to smash the Fealinnese incursion. That would be overreaching your station for certain, but if you made it sound possible, and a necessity…the Union Party would likely be behind it as much as the lesser parties. Though it would doubtlessly be the most difficult and extended operation, given how Wezkatinbach had already failed in the north and weren’t doing much better now that they were involved in the south.>A quick and fast war would be for the best. A certain and quick operation for a limited result…and just enough to enable your rescue of Cesare.>The people of Trelan wished for a war and a triumph. Let them have one. Their enemies were on the ropes, there was no better time to humble Holherezh and Wezkatinbach both…>If Fealinn could be distracted to the utmost, it would serve you the best- and likely their own future as well. Advocate that the true threat was Fealinn’s greed, and that they should be prioritized on top of occupation of border territories.>Another sort of plan? (Must be in the frame of an assessment of capability and risk- you are in an advisory position, not a political decision maker)
>>5952030>>A quick and fast war would be for the best. A certain and quick operation for a limited result…and just enough to enable your rescue of Cesare.Trelan's industry still isn't build enough for a long war imo, especially with Wezkatinbach ruling the local waters. A short victorious war should do nicely for Unionist support in the next election...
>>5952030>>A quick and fast war would be for the best. A certain and quick operation for a limited result…and just enough to enable your rescue of Cesare.
>>5952030>A quick and fast war would be for the best. A certain and quick operation for a limited result…and just enough to enable your rescue of Cesare.It's never quick and fast though.
>>5952030>>The people of Trelan wished for a war and a triumph. Let them have one. Their enemies were on the ropes, there was no better time to humble Holherezh and Wezkatinbach both…
>>5952030>A quick and fast war would be for the best. A certain and quick operation for a limited result…and just enough to enable your rescue of Cesare.Captcha: ARS2NV
>>5952030>A quick and fast war would be for the best. A certain and quick operation for a limited result…and just enough to enable your rescue of Cesare.Our ability to pull such off is a different question. But we better try our best to make it one.
>>5952045>>5952049>>5952117>>5952138>>5952212>>5952271Secure the Parallel and no further.>>5952140Take them both on all the way up.I'll call it and update after I get back from lunch in about a couple hours or so.>>5952212Arse to envyWhat did it mean by this
>>5952388One more for the quick shot.Reminds me of another character thirteen years from now.Writing.
All could agree on what the easiest, if least ambitious sequence of events would be. With superiority of arms and numbers, it would be child’s play to take advantage of the northeastern nations’ current predicament to force Holherezh out of its southern half (more like its bottom three quarters), taking what could be seized while the Fealinnese fought the Pohja to their northeast, trying to conquer the Holherezhi capital city. Then, Trelan could simply sit and do what had to be done until the Northwest War concluded, and it would be seen what would come of that after a swift and decisive victory. An extended occupation, once again, was not seen as desirable or even something to consider, but there was a possibility of that becoming a necessity should the Pohja prove stiffer in resistance than thought, in spite of all their misfortunes.Still, things could go wrong, but the scope being smaller meant that it was much more difficult to overreach. The unexpected trials of those the Twentieth Century Commission had given patronage to would not find themselves becoming disasters. With little risk but much gain being the thrust of the final evaluation, the report was bound up, copied by an exhausted typist, and sent to the Lands Assembly to discuss over the next two weeks, though action was advised to be taken by the next month at minimum to not lose any opportunity.Of course, you talked over the matter with Leo while your friends were still here, over the remainder of the Gran Idolo Emck’s duration. You stood alone up on the edge of the mountains at Travaglio, looking down at the city and the lands that stretched out beneath, unafraid of anybody listening in on your plans.“The limits of the operation,” you told Leo, tracing a finger over a stylized map on an illustrated postcard, “Go up this far, the same latitude as Trelan’s northern most regions. As far as the Republic is concerned, that secures Holherezh’s mountains, but if I remember correctly, the work camps you spoke of are also right across the border with Fealinn, there.”“How long do you think it’ll take?” Leo asked tentatively, “It sounds like you made it sound really easy. I still need time to set everything up, you know.”“It’s still one hundred and thirty kilometers of northward movement. A lot of territory to move over and pacify, and the Holherezhi army still has to be completely defeated no matter what happens, maybe Wezkatinbach’s too. You said you needed a few months, and it’ll probably take that long even in the best-case scenario. The Pohja aren’t expected to give up. They’re a stubborn group of nations, I hear, when it comes to territorial matters. Especially regarding mountainfolk.”“Alright.” Leo crossed his arms, and paused. “Once things get rolling, we’ll just have to deal with the hand we’re given, but I know I can trust you on this.”
“It’s all I can do,” you said, “I don’t have any field command. I’ll just have to trust that the officers and the troops are up to the job, and that when you come here with our band of filibusters, it’ll be right on time. There’s little else I can do.”“Well,” Leo said, “There is one thing. You’ve got all the access to the intelligence, so while this happens, if you map out a path so that we can stroll through Holherezh without having to fight much before we get to Fealinn, that’d really help out.”“Anything,” you said, “Most of the people I can appeal to for help are in Gilicia. Can you help them get here?”Leo nodded. “Yeah. Lately, some of the underworld’s been beaten into line. They can smuggle people if need be. Not keep them around, but nobody will bat an eye if I come around and say they’ll be gone before they know it.”“Good,” you said, with little more to say. From there on out, you would both be doing your best to enjoy the moment, with your friends and families present. The hard times were yet to come.The week after everybody left, Elena carrying your letters to Gilicia and elsewhere, events proceeded apace in Trelan.The recommended window of starting operations would have given enough time for the war to wrap up and for Leo to finalize preparations for the expedition in the future, but the Trelani were impatient, and the report was the talk of both political figures and the town all about in no time. The vote for what to do was held only two weeks after the report’s release, and with such an appealing throughline, the course of the Lands Assembly was obvious. Even most of the Welfare Party saw the way the winds were blowing, and voted for war, holding their noses and believing every word that an intervention would be so easy that not supporting this measure would be a severe blow to their political careers. In the end, only ten representatives voted nay, and an overwhelming majority passed through the resolution to intervene in Holherezh, to invade. On the morning of August the 21st of 1920, Trelan joined the Northwest War.Word came to you through political contacts that the only reason the vote wasn’t sooner was to give the army the minimum time necessary to prepare, and within hours of war being declared, the troops were already marching forth, the artillery on the border already booming and flattening the meager prepared positions to dust.
The opening engagements couldn’t be called battle rather than cleanup, as not even the enemy had thought there was any point in manning the border’s feeble defenses for more than a token display of resistance. Their best troops were up north, fighting desperately in the capital, and the advancing Army of the Republic of Trelani smashed aside what little resistance, usually local, it found. The Special Armored Division, the expanded result of your most visible reforms, seemed to do little but drive as none dared to face these new metal monsters in battle, even if the tank models were no longer so new.You saw none of this, of course. You scarcely left Pietrecirchio or Pietranello. The school season had begun, and three of your children, Luigi having recently become old enough, were now attending a new school where you hoped Vittoria wouldn’t get into more fights again. You’d never heard of any ten-year-old girl getting into so much conflict with her peers…Yena was none too happy about the outbreak of war, but she was at least reassured by your closeness to home.“Rychel’s husband has gone to war,” she said to you as you helped her do the laundry one morning, “He is in your tank force, yes?”“He is.” One of Yena’s friends, and by extension a passing acquaintance of yours, was half of a new married couple younger than the two of you by six years. Sottotenente Leva would be a fair bit older and wiser than you had been when you had been at the same place in martial service as he was now, but he was an open minded fellow curious of the Republican Army’s newest developments. Like most of the Special Armored Division’s mechanized troopers, he had practically no experience with machines or vehicles not drawn by animals prior to his service, but the Special Armored Regiment had collected a cadre of experienced instructors by now, who could teach the most cross-eyed blithering dolt of a man the necessary skills to not destroy their expensive pieces of equipment. He was amongst the most junior of leaders and still brimmed with confidence. The higher officers of the unit had had the honor of fighting the Kalleans to a draw in the now famous mock battle exercise, and they were plenty confident that the Pohja could not hope to come close to the Kallean’s cunning and daring.Thus, when you said, “He will be perfectly safe,” you merely echoed the belief of everybody, even if you knew the myriad ways an overconfident tanker could still meet their doom regardless of any beliefs of invincibility.
“Many husbands are out, either in uniform or training,” Yena said. A conscription wave had gone out on your Commission’s recommendation in anticipation of losses or need for reinforcement. It really should have happened earlier, but it wasn’t as though there weren’t already more men about to come out the pipeline with the waves of jingoism washing through the Republic. Yena set her wash down and came over to you, and wrapped her arms around your neck. “Not you, though. For once, not you.””You wouldn’t deceive your partner in matrimony, would you?” A voice that called from above and around, ”Even if she is a heretic mosshead, does a wife deserve to have her faithfulness rewarded with the deception of a sinner?”Your breath stuck in your throat. Not right now, you thought. Ever since that dream where they had appeared, these voices had been invading the real world. Whispering, creeping, shouting. Entirely unwanted.”Come now,” the more soothing of the voices intruded, ”What of her happiness? A small lie will not harm her or the children.””Just as the Judge Above knows, so too may man find out in time.””Who the hell cares? She does not understand and never will.””You never cared about her anyways.”Shut up! You thought as loudly as you could to quiet this fiction.“What’s wrong, Palmiro?” Yena rubbed your shoulders, “You’re so tense all of a sudden…”Tell her, or don’t, you thought, to try and give quiet to the debate that occurred whether or not you wished to hear it, or if you gave any input. You had told Yena you wouldn’t go off adventuring, or off to some war. It was true that you wouldn’t be serving any nation’s interest, and that it was for Cesare’s sake…but would she understand? Did she need to know in any case..?>Yena was your wife. Your closest companion who had stayed with you for over a decade. She had borne you five children. Who deserved to know if not her, even if she would be upset? Regardless of how she felt about it, you would be going anyways.>It was for the best not to tell anybody not in the know about your plans to save Cesare. All you had to do was to say that work would take you out of the city for a few days. There was no need to be the source of any stress.>Tell Yena everything, and ask for her permission to go on this rescue mission. You’d take the chance of her refusing to let you go, if she chose that. It would be better than lying to her, or crossing her in spite of her thoughts.>Other?
>>5952552>Tell Yena everything, and ask for her permission to go on this rescue mission. You’d take the chance of her refusing to let you go, if she chose that. It would be better than lying to her, or crossing her in spite of her thoughts.
>>5952552>>Yena was your wife. Your closest companion who had stayed with you for over a decade. She had borne you five children. Who deserved to know if not her, even if she would be upset? Regardless of how she felt about it, you would be going anyways.And this is why I didn't want to promise her we wouldn't go to war again.
>>5952552>It was for the best not to tell anybody not in the know about your plans to save Cesare. All you had to do was to say that work would take you out of the city for a few days. There was no need to be the source of any stress.
>>5952552>Yena was your wife. Your closest companion who had stayed with you for over a decade. She had borne you five children. Who deserved to know if not her, even if she would be upset? Regardless of how she felt about it, you would be going anyways.Honesty is the best policy even if she doesn't take it well, she'll be even more pissed if she finds out Bonetto lied to her.However Cesare is one of Bonetto's last remaining pre-war friends and someone who got semi-crippled for Yena, he's worth going to war for.
>>5952552>>Tell Yena everything, and ask for her permission to go on this rescue mission. You’d take the chance of her refusing to let you go, if she chose that. It would be better than lying to her, or crossing her in spite of her thoughts.It sounds like this mission will have enough support that our personal presence won't be key to its success or failure. It would be nice to be there, but if we can't then it isn't something to ruin our marriage over. Cesare will be saved regardless.
>>5952552>Yena was your wife. Your closest companion who had stayed with you for over a decade. She had borne you five children. Who deserved to know if not her, even if she would be upset? Regardless of how she felt about it, you would be going anyways.
>>5952552>>Yena was your wife. Your closest companion who had stayed with you for over a decade. She had borne you five children. Who deserved to know if not her, even if she would be upset? Regardless of how she felt about it, you would be going anyways.
>>5952556>>5952701>>5952772Let her decide.>>5952562>>5952567>>5952746>>5952777>>5952807She can know- but you're going no matter what.>>5952564No need to rock the boat.I think we've got most everybody, calling it and updating.
…Yena was your wife. Your closest companion. She had gone where others would not go, stayed with you over a decade in a foreign land, borne you five children. If she did not deserve to know what you were planning and why, who did? Even if she would be upset, she had a right to know. Especially considering that, regardless of what she felt or what she said, your mind had long been made up. You could only hope that she would understand.So, you slowly told her what was bothering you. What Leo had told you. About how you had lost Cesare, how bitter that loss had been, and how you had found out he had been languishing, imprisoned and enslaved, but now, there was a chance to rescue him. A chance to make everything wrong, right again. All it demanded was a final battle. One that you had to participate in. You had to be among the first to see him again. To be part of the band that would take him back, and take him home, after so, so long.“I have to,” you said, “You understand, don’t you?”Yena’s face had settled into an empty gaze, a slackened jaw, a taut frown, and she shook her head slowly. “You promised, Palmiro…”“I didn’t know something like this would happen,” you said, unable to deny that this was a breach of that, except in an argument of technicalities that mattered not to Yena. “I truly thought nothing could tear me away now. This is different. It’s Cesare, Yena. He was wounded avenging your honor-““I didn’t ask anybody to avenge me,” Yena snapped sharply, bitterly. “I didn’t ask anybody to be hurt for me.” She looked down, her chin sinking to her chest. “You have children, Palmiro, a family, a future…I don’t want you to vanish. It is selfish of me, but…” She touched blindly for your face, and ran a finger along the scar on your head, “I nearly lost you. Twice.”“You would have lost me for true,” you said, “Were it not for Cesare. He was the one who saved me from death, perhaps from the same fate he now suffers from. I must, Yena.”Yena said nothing, then slowly sighed. “Nothing that I say or do will change your mind?”“For anything else,” you grasped Yena’s hands, “The man you married would not refuse this mission. I will come back to you, and as a hero. I don’t know a better cause to fight for, and I don’t say that lightly.”“…” Yena sighed again, her shoulders slumped. “Fine. Do as you want.”“I’m sorry, Yena.”She said nothing to that apology. “Let me be, Palmiro,” she said quietly, “I will forgive you before you go. Just…not now…”When you made love that night, it was a cold and mechanical thing, an obligation. Yet, unlike in the past, she did go to bed with you, did sleep in the same place, though she wrapped herself in her blankets apart from you.
She did understand, you thought. Yet she couldn’t help but want to grasp you as tightly as she could, rather than lose you to some cause, some connection that had been thought long lost in the past with every other tragedy that had been inflicted upon her and her friends…-----The Northwest War went on. Despite being an easy and guaranteed thing, it was still much effort by the freshly reformed army, and the necessity of such effort combined with the lack of glory made for no lack of grumbling, even if by all assessments things were going exactly to plan and with only acceptable setbacks, a rare mercy in any war you’d been involved in.The Trelani Republican Army’s primary troubles didn’t come from enemy attacks, or fortifications or tactical blunders by inexperienced commanders, but from the amount of ground to hold and cover and keeping the army moving forward over it. The Holherezhi command in the south wasn’t stupid, and knew better than to try and fight a battle they had no chance of winning, so they delayed and skirmished just enough to buy time and trade territory and towns for minutes, where whatever supplies could be denied to Trelan would be seized and run north with.The resistance that the normal civilians would put up was also underestimated. The Irregulars had been expected to cause trouble, yes, but it was soon found out that, having left their families behind when Holherezh had dictated that most of the fighting men join the retreat, the women and similar noncombatants suddenly took the place of the militia and raiders. Even if the weapons were antiquated, nearly every Holherezhi home had some sort of firearm, and the horsed class tended to have several. The rear lines soon became unexpected battlegrounds, and in some places, the newly formed bands of fighters would recapture a town through sheer mass when it was either unexpected or any patrols were far off. Learning from this, Trelani commanders would confiscate all weapons upon capturing a town or population center, but Holherezhi were clever, and the tactic had little success before weapons would simply disappear ahead of the advance into caches, or be carried off in the hands of those who conscripted themselves.In those weeks, the invasion was referred to by the troops as the “Women’s War,” since such a high proportion, perhaps even half of those that did fight were young women of the households. They weren’t to be underestimated, as Holherezhi women had to take things just like men in order to be adults and were craftier and fiercer than could have been expected, but they were nevertheless not proper soldiers. It was hard for the Trelani soldiers to claim any pride for shooting women, and they bitterly complained of the perceived cowardice of the Holherezhi army itself, patchwork as it must have been at this point.
August went into September, and your plans steadily worked themselves forward, as did Leo’s, with the war’s progression. The south of Holherezh at this point was completely occupied, and the battle for Keliias, the country’s capital, had dragged on into a scene said to be reminiscent of the Emrean Liberation’s nastier battles, but the Fealinnese were persevering and had pushed through over half of the city, which had been made into a ruined hell hole by months of battle. The Trelani wanted to go nowhere near that, but now, they had pushed far enough and the enemy had consolidated enough that the coming of autumn had also been the time for the Holherezhi, with Wezkatinbacher aid in many places, to resist much more rigorously, to even counterattack in places. The war had properly begun, and an increase in casualties introduced Trelan to what modern war was like, the thing that they had prepared so much to wage. The leaves on the trees were changing color when an unexpected face turned up one evening, one that you hadn’t seen in years, though not because of your own choice. After all, you respected the man enough to have named one of your children after him.Luigi Lucanto, dressed in plain dark clothes and having gained a fair bit of weight since you last saw him, ageing gracelessly as lines had formed a frown around his lips and the corners of his eyes. He had come with you over to the side of the Gilicians, but the two of you hadn’t operated nearly as closely as you had in the greater war that had come before, as you had quickly shifted away from commanding vehicles. He blinked at you as you held the door open, not looking pleased nor unhappy, as though he were merely here to deliver milk.“Hey,” he said, “I heard you needed a driver. I’ve got nothing better to do.”“That’s all you have to say after all the years?” You asked, astounded. Luigi had never been a sociable, personable sort, but you’d expected a bit more. Maybe unwisely. “Come in, then, you old grouch.”“That’s fine.” Luigi said, “I’m just here to say I’m answering the call. I’m pretty tired from coming all this way. Had to do a lot of walking. My knees aren’t what they used to be.”Complaining, excuses, and you knew that if you didn’t trap him here he would probably pretend that any socializing could come ever later, until time came to do work. “I have somebody you should meet, Luigi,” you said, grabbing him by his shoulder and pulling him into the house. “Besides, if you’re tired, you can rest here some. I don’t remember you ever turning down a free meal, and it doesn’t look like you’ve changed on that.”“Ah, piss off,” Luigi grumbled, but he let himself be led in, and seated at the table in the kitchen. Yena was busy changing your youngest daughter at the time. You’d have some time to yourselves.“Luigi!” You called for your young son.
“I’m right here, Bonetto,” Luigi (the namesake) grumbled, “You seein’ ghosts these days?”Luigi (the son) came bounding over excitedly. “Who are you?” He gawped loudly at Luigi, who covered his ears in shock.“Judge Above,” he hissed, then his eyes widened in early realization.“Luigi,” you said to you son, “This is Luigi Lucanto. He’s an old friend that I met during the war. You’re named after him.”“Oh God…” Luigi sighed and put is face in his hands, “Not only did y’ name a kid after me, it’s a mosshead kid…”“He’s fat!” Your younger son exclaimed uncouthly.“What a sweet kid,” your driver grumbled. “I don’t remember you talking about him.” The sound of shrieking children began to rumble around as more of them appeared on the upper floor to see who had come. “Holy cannoli, how many kids do you got?”“Five,” you said, pointing. “That’s Vittoria, my eldest, you’ve met. Then there’s Lorenzo, then there’s Ydela. Chiara is with her mother.”Luigi shook his head. “Was afraid you’d have more friggin’ Luigis hopping around, but no, you brought back the blonde headed brownie from the dead, but as…” He paused, “All the girls are blonde, aren’t they?”“Chiara is green haired as Yena,” you said. “I don’t get you,” Luigi sighed and tilted back on the chair, the legs straining under his weight. “Man. I didn’t expect you to pump your girl so much. Leo’s right. You really don’t know how to pull out.”“Luigi, have a care for the kids.”“Pull out?” your son Luigi asked loudly.“It’s a mechanical term,” you improvised, “I don’t mind, you know,” You sat at the corner next to Luigi, the table by this point rather crowded with chairs, though the central furnishing itself had refused to be replaced. “Children are a blessing, and I’m of means to care for all of them. Yena hasn’t said she’s had enough, and I want to give her everything she wants. Don’t you have a wife to satisfy? Children to care for?”Luigi scrunched his face up like you’d told a funny joke. “Nah. Just been living. There’s a railroad company in Gilicia that hired me on, and I’m a senior engineer now. I’m well paid, and with no woman around I’ve got nobody spending my money. I’m pretty happy, you know.”“You could be happier I’ll bet,” you countered. “A charming man like you with plenty of means? It’d be easy for you.”
“I’d have to go back home and check with momma,” Luigi said with a lazy stretch, “Just can’t be assed to go through the hassle of a woman, then bribing my way back into Vitelia to find out what I didn’t notice.”From there on, Luigi’s visits were infrequent, and usually forced by you, but you at least got your family to know who he was. There were too few people from your past that they were familiar with…and Yena was happier for them knowing, since they had yet to meet any grandparents still, and likely wouldn’t for some time.October came, and the northwest’s forces were still trying to catch up to the advances Trelan had bought and blustered through though. The Pohja response to the Special Armored Division had been to try and evade it, or to lure the division to where it could be bogged down and delayed rather than having to deal with the difficult task of destroying both armored vehicles which they had no dedicated weaponry for, while also having to fight the most elite troops of the Republican Army. However, such trickery did not work on the Special Armored Division’s commanders, and they followed their own whim rather than being fooled by the Holherezhi into acting reactively for lack of imagination and tactical awareness. Instead, leaving token forces to disrupt enemy intelligence, the Special Armored Division dove into an escalating infantry battle and skewered enemy lines in two places, forcing a general retreat. Yena, while still muted and morose from anticipation, still had her bright spots, perhaps where she forgot about what was going to happen, or let herself imagine that there was as little to be concerned about as you insisted. Your thirty fifth birthday passed with the beginning of October, and Yena put on a brave and glad face for you the whole day. To say she did something specially for your birthday would imply that certain amorous acts had ceased (not the case), but this birthday was much like one many years ago, where her gift, in a way, was announcing to you that she was pregnant, again. Rather than your first, this would be your sixth child…and one you didn’t actually have a room in the house for, as the others were already shared as it stood. A good problem to have though, was it not?
All the while, you mapped out where it would be easiest to pass through. You and Leo’s expedition route to minimize behind-lines troubles and get to the area of operations without issue…and then make your strike and get out. For Cesare, yes, but also the numerous other prisoners there, who had been thoughtlessly imprisoned for a whole decade now. The Emrean War had numerous soldiers listed as “missing,” who truly couldn’t be found and confirmed to be alive or dead, but may as well have perished. These men must have been amongst them, for how long it took to find out that Cesare was there…The flow of various adventurers and volunteers and the occasional mercenary continued, all scattered through inns on the outskirts of Pietrecirchio, even up the mountain at Travaglio. None of them were suspect or ill-natured seeming sorts, even those who were your own Black Coats once. Perhaps the years and the necessary character to volunteer to aid you had only allowed the good hearted to trickle through the sieve. You learned that Yena might have been the only one of the friend group back in the Gran Idolo Emck to have not known of the coming operation. Not only was Leo back around, but so were both his wife Marcella and Elena as well. Had they known from the start? No, Leo had said, but they were familiar with violence, and could not be kept away. Not when they wanted to help.In the last days, on the fifteenth of October, just before everything would be ready to embark, there was but one more special entrance. One more person you had sent an appeal to in the hopes they would come round, and you had thought such a request in vain. Yet here they were- with their own special boon, at the last moment.>One more person- One that you’ve met, special amongst those you’ve met. Depending on who they are, they’ll have brought something special to the cause…Also->Anything else to do, speak to people about, take care of?
>>5953243>One more person- One that you’ve met, special amongst those you’ve met. Depending on who they are, they’ll have brought something special to the cause…I'll put forth in the Colonel, he's probably pretty old at this point but we go way back and Cesare served under him on the Gilician Front.
>>5953243>One more person- One that you’ve met, special amongst those you’ve met. Depending on who they are, they’ll have brought something special to the cause…Julio.
>>5953243>One more person- One that you’ve met, special amongst those you’ve met. Depending on who they are, they’ll have brought something special to the cause…Debon
>>5953243>Poltergheist personally
Taking today off. I'll call it on Monday.>>5953680Poltergeist will under no conditions whatsoever intervene in this.
>>5953243>One more person- One that you’ve met, special amongst those you’ve met. Depending on who they are, they’ll have brought something special to the cause…Marcus Di Portaltramento>Anything else to do, speak to people about, take care of?Not much but maybe go do something towards a celebration for hopeful success. Maybe not a big drink but something that up's the spirits... a special activity...
Rolled 3 (1d4)>>5953311The Zucc Champ>>5953388Not his first unwelcome entry and not the last.>>5953679Deeb>>5953912The other cousin.Alright, wasn't anticipating to have to do things like this at all, but maybe it's better this way. Round and round it goes, where the wheel stops, nobody knows.
So as a heads up, I got called to fill in for a call out at work tonight, so this update (which I was lazy on and got started late with) isn't going to cover as much or be in depth, but I'd rather have something out just in case I come back way too tired from work tonight.
An unexpected knock at your door one day- not uncommon right now. With the swelling ranks of those who would join the expedition, you found yourself making introductions often, but usually it was Leo, with a distinctive heavy thump from his giant’s arm trying not to test the door’s strength. An odd knock- such was what made you wonder in particular who it could be. Not somebody from work or a politician. Both knew well to bother you while you were at your office. No, this was somebody different.You opened the door wide, and looked up and down at the person waiting.It had been some time since you’d seen him, though you had written to one another every so often, and he had come to learn of your plight, even if exactly what you would do wasn’t so recklessly shared. You hadn’t expected him to come here though…this veteran officer in khaki and dull golden piping, the trim denoting one who was meant to be seen by his fellows and heartened.“Jean-Phillipe,” you said I surprise, “I didn’t expect you, let alone in your old livery.”“I come with more surprises than standing here,” the Emrean said with a brush of his fingers against a groomed mustache. More grey had crept into his dulled auburn hair, but it was better cut than last you’d seen him, his face was fuller. “It was troublesome to bring them and the proper equipment, but three of my brothers of the Bronze Shield have come, with mounts befitting us. They heard tell of a fellow seeker of Utopia in distress, and we have come. Our wayward mother nation may not approve of our opposition to Fealinn, but if the successors of the Reich act just as the Reich did, if not worse, then they may as well be Alexander’s own.”Befitting mounts? “You brought tanks?”“A favor from my brother. He is not as unsympathetic as he comes across. Or perhaps he felt it necessary that I leave the country, hah.” Jean-Phillipe shook his head sorely, “Four of them in all, of the Zephyr model with a few small improvements. I thought that, in spite of my lack of crews for more than two, you would know others to bestow the vehicles on.” Indeed, you and Luigi could readily claim one. As for the other, there would surely be somebody who could make use of such a precious gift. “…It is a strange feeling. I thought I had enough of war forever, but given a good cause again, I find myself giddy like I once was for battle, for showing the foe what for…are you occupied? I do not know where in this dreary country to find a good cup of coffee or a decent glass of wine.”“…No, I’m not particularly busy, but I wasn’t expecting anybody this evening.” No plans had been made, thank goodness, besides what was a daily occurrence. Yena wouldn’t like being blown off her evening walkabout with the children. “Let me tell me wife, then I’ll be along. Are all your companions in the same place?”
“It was easier to find our fellow adventurers than you,” Jean-Phillipe said, “So we are staying with a clutch of them. It’s quite interesting how far some of them have come.”Yena was indeed disappointed, but she seemed happy that you were going with a friend someplace. You didn’t make many of those in this land, not because you couldn’t, but the distance had never shrunk between Vitelia and this place. Away you went, riding the trolleys to where Jean-Phillipe’s men and some others were. By good fortune, they happened to be staying nearby a watering hole of some quiet repute. The favorite secret spot of more than a few of the Special Armored Division officers, though it was much quieter now with their absence. A small surprise was that Luigi was already here with Jean-Phillipe’s three friends, instantly recognizable by their similar garb to their leader, making a display of being foreign soldiers. You went and introduced yourself, and recommended the mead, for even the unadventurous, since you volunteered to pay for the normally rather expensive libation, though you hardly needed to indulge yourself beyond a small bit for the sake of friendliness.Though, the bar being as unpopulated as it was meant that you readily noticed the other strangers, who definitely were attention grabbing. A tall and broad man with a long mane of night black hair down to his back, perhaps around your age, along with a much shorter and rounder man, respectively in a black and a beige longcoat, sitting at the bar away from the Emreans, near the wall. Even if the bar was so small, this was only about fifteen paces away.This pair of men were speaking in New Nauk…practically unheard of in Trelan. Most spoke Vitelian, many spoke the Mountainblood tongue, and the Pohja minority often spoke their own regional dialect, the one local to Trelan a one apart from all the others of their ethno-linguistic group, but nobody spoke New Nauk around this place. Which must have meant these men had blown in recently from somewhere that did.“What’s up with this place, Liemann?” A tall, dark-haired man asked his squad compatriot, “Green heads as far as the eye can see, but no brothels? That’d be fine, I’m fond of romance myself, but does no bar on the part of the edge of the world have any female patrons? Not even barmaids to woo?”“Mosshead women don’t tend to drink, and if they do it certainly isn’t socially.” The squat man observed quite accurately. “Didn’t you roam about beds enough in Paelli? I thought you’d never leave that place, we barely got here on time.”“Being early to heroics is poor form,” the black maned man said, “As long as we’re not late, there’s no reason to enjoy the adventure we have along the way. Maybe if you did more than walk and eat you’d get that paunch under control. You’re starting to look like a pig.”
“Nothing wrong with pigs,” the squat man said without even a pinch of offense. He noticed you listening. “Hey, looks like one of the chiefs here knows the language. Act like a bit less of a louse, will you?”The maned man looked over his shoulder at you, then looked back to his friend. “The guy with a scar on his head, yeah? It’s alright. Things are easier the better you know your people.”“He might get to know you too well with your mouth opening so much. Honestly. I’d think that a man like you would be sated with where you came from.”“The highest and more dirty courts of the Archduchy,” the taller adventurer said without hesitation, “Are only the singular aspect of a single country. Let me put it in terms you can understand, Liemann. Even if you could eat whatever you wanted every day and not get fat, would you just get a big sack of fruit fancies and chocolate for every meal? I don’t think so. I’ve seen your conduct at parties and dinners, piggy, and you like a bit of everything. So do I, you know?”“As long as you don’t stay distracted and forget that we’re here for a reason…”Perhaps you should get to know these latecomers. Or maybe you shouldn’t. If Leo got them, they couldn’t be unreliable, especially if, in spite of this long-haired man’s seeming lack of purity, he claimed to come here out of “adventure” and “heroism” when he could assume nobody could listen…>Talk with anybody here about something?>Last Minute Prep?
>>5954845>Talk with anybody here about something?Better introduce ourselves to these easterners, we'll be fighting together after all. I forgot but have the Hogs been founded at this point? Maybe ask them if they've ever cross paths with our Black Coat friends down in Sosaldt >Last Minute Prep?Bring Marcella and Luigi over for a last minute inspection of the tonks
>>5954845>Talk with anybody here about something?Introduce ourselves to these guys since we're fighting together. Also like >>5954860 said, inspect the tanks, give them a quick test if we have the time. Also speaking of things from PCQ what's the big daddy of the revolution up to right now? I mean Vang.
>>5954845>Talk with anybody here about something?I've heard you Sosalians like to fight each other all the time, any interesting wars you've been in?
>>5954845[spolier]Schweinmann's real name is Lieman!? How is he connected with Liemanner?[/spoiler]
>>5954845>Talk with anybody here about something?>Last Minute Prep?Previous suggestions are all good with me, boss.
>>5954845Introductions and tanks.
As expected yesterday evening was tiresome and sleep came early. Now, though.>>5954860>>5954867>>5954945>>5955176>>5955263Cavorting and inspections.See if these Zephyrs are Zefir.Updating.>>5954860>I forgot but have the Hogs been founded at this point? Not yet- not for about another three years. Right now, this foreign nobility is merely on an adventure to a faraway land.>>5954867>what's the big daddy of the revolution up to right now? I mean Vang.Sigmund Vang is on the big post-war Republican activist tour in Emre and the Grossreich, particularly the latter as Republicans try to push through reforms in the Reich from their place as Regent Council. It's a good time, for them.>>5955080>Schweinmann's real name is Lieman!? How is he connected with Liemanner?Who knows? Though the latter man was never just one person anyways...
>>5955277Ze Zephyrs are ze Zefirs.
>>5955277>Who knows?i suspect you do
>>5955277>Republicans>On a Regency CouncilDisgusting.
Sorry for the delay, update won't be until late tonight at best. My rhythm's really been thrown off this past week and it's been really hard to stay motivated.
Alright, way, way late, but update's about ready. It's just so long I'm going to chop it in two to have it out a bit earlier.
You were never good at being a wallflower, even without being compelled by curiosity. “Gentlemen,” you said in Vitelian to them. Best not to show all your cards yet. “Are you with this other party?”“We are.” The squatter man replied in relatively rough Vitelian. You noticed he had an…interesting nose. Squat and fat like a tomato on his face, made wider with fat nostrils. It made him tragically piglike. “He makes it sound like a tragedy,” the taller adventurer said, in an affected accent that spoke of tutoring rather than an accent you’d heard anywhere out of a common man. So they both spoke the language, then.“I thought as much.” You turned smoothly into New Nauk, “We can talk like this, if you’re more comfortable with it. My name is Palmiro Bonaventura, and I am the co-leader of the coming…expedition.”The tall one’s New Nauk accent was like nothing you’d ever heard before. A form less colored by Emrean affect, harsher and haughty. “It’s my pleasure, Signore Bon. I’m called Hell, my friend here is Liemann, and we’ve come for a lot of reasons, but my sword is yours, if we’re righting some wrongs against Imperials.”Liemann seemed to resent the lack of specificity. “Hell might be here from the goodness of his heart and a need to throw away his money, but Signore Leone has introductions I’d appreciate being made in exchange for this favor.”The favor of two men? A drop in a bucket frankly speaking, but apparently ones who didn’t need financial compensation. Neither you nor Leo were rich men, so every favor was one to be thankful for.“You sound like you’ve come from far away,” you said, “The Archduchy, I heard you say? That’s quite a journey.”“It is a long journey,” Liemann said, “But if you know where you’re going, then it’s not so far as it might seem. Zhantao might be the eye of the storms, as they say, but the spice junks always sail. Your associate also cast his net as far as he could.”“And hauled in a lunker,” Hell jammed his thumb into his chest. A lunker, hm? Really. “I have heard that you Sosalians love to fight one another. Does your confidence spring from experience?”“’Course it does. If I only knew how to pose as a warrior I’d have stayed home and rotted in the courts like my father. Big game hunting and saber matches, border riding, I won’t bore you with the small stuff. I’ve been to Valsten during their dust-up, and the action over near Netilland, took outriders into the wastes of Sosaldt. What about you? Where’d that scar come from?”“The Emrean War,” you said, not celebrating your experience.Hell said something you’d never have expected somebody to say of that terrible time. “I envy you.”The response was reflexive. “You shouldn’t.”
“But I do,” Hell leaned closer to you, bright green eyes wide, “Have you ever heard of how Strossvald was made? That fateful day at the Battle of Messingplatz, where the Imperial Army finally met its match, where they got their heads handed to them, where they got put on a spit and roasted, put to manic flight on the scale of an army for the first time in their history?”“I have,” you said, “I was a student of history in Lapizlazulli’s Azure Halls, but I doubt that even on the other side of the world, people would be unaware.”“The Kaiser’s Legions were shattered and put to flight there by Helman the Silver Lance, and so began the crumbling of the Reich to today.” Hell gestured to himself, “I am the descendant of that man, he and his second woman, his shadow Silke Mondhohe. So yes, I envy that you bore arms against the Reich. I wish I could have been there, no matter how bad people said it was. What I’ve tasted of war, I’ve loved, even with all the, you know. Maybe I’m just a bit crazy though, hah, hah.”Histories would often summarize the event of the Battle of Messingplatz by accrediting Duke Roland the Second with the victory, but he was the one who hired on the mercenary company headed by Hell’s ancestor, and then ennobled him in gratitude. As for the latter…maybe some people were meant to fight, were built for it. Leo was and Cesare wasn’t. Were you? “This cause will be more noble than the one my comrades fell for,” you said with a wistful resignation. “I assure you of that.”Liemann looked over to the Emreans. “I don’t think that bunch would agree, do you think, Hell?”Hell shrugged. “To an Emrean, any fight against the Reich is a punch thrown for them. I don’t want t’ bullshit the boss here with that sort of thing.”“Speaking of,” you said, glancing over yourself, “Have you spoken with them? I need to go meet them myself. I know they’re associates of Jean-Phillipe Debon. He’s an Emrean War veteran himself, of tanks, and so are they.”“Tanks, you say?” Hell suddenly seemed very interested, “I haven’t had a chance to do more than climb on them in the yard and drive them around for fun, myself. I’m a cavalryman myself, but my horse had to retire after the work in Netilland.” He paused, “If they’re tank people, long shot, did they bring any?” You nodded. “Well, damn,” Hell rose from his stool, “I’ve got to have a look.”Debon, once you had reunited with him, introduced you to his fellows. All of them were once his subordinates, his officers, to be precise. They were all also, you presumed correctly, frequent visitors to the same coffee house you yourself went to in your dreams.
They didn’t divulge their precise reasons for coming here instead of staying in Emre, but it was clear that they sought some small bit of new, Revolutionary purpose that they hadn’t been able to reclaim in the Emrean peace that followed their struggle. Though they knew they were fighting to free former comrades from afar. Despite the dismissive tone that Hell had about their motivation, their support seemed true enough.Of course, counting Debon, there was only four of the Emrean tankers, to crew half of the tanks. Yourself, Marcella and Luigi could man another of the two-crew tanks if you were inclined, but what of the third?…Well, Heller had said he had experience with them. Maybe him and his friend could do it. Who knew? Maybe he would turn out to be a natural savant with the machines.It wouldn’t be until the next day that you’d get the chance to look at the tanks themselves, as they had to be specially shipped. Debon had used his familiar relations to make the transport easier- no reason to deny the representative of an arms company his wares to demonstrate. The interested members of the Expedition-to-be all appeared for the reveal of the tanks, though your designated mechanic had arrived quite a bit earlier to make her own inspection.“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Hell said as he saw the tanks…and Marcella. “All a man could want, eh, Liemann?”“The tanks, Hell,” Liemann said sternly, “They’re different from the ones we know, though.”“All the better for me to look closely,” Hell said as he jogged up, and you walked after him. Though, against what he said, he only gave the tanks a passing glance on the way towards the particular tank that had a panel open on its flank.“Hey,” Hell said as he leaned on the Zephyr’s steel flank and looked down at Marcella. Or rather, her grease-stained half-bare bosom. “You know how to work on these? That’s pretty special, y’know.”Marcella gave Hell a coy glance, looking up at the addressal. “Seems like that’s not the only thing y’ find special.”“I like special women, can you blame me?” Hell said, casually putting a hand on his hip. “What’s your name, hot stuff?” Marcella knew where he was looking, but she was used to it and made a mocking smirk. “You’re a bold one, askin’ somebody’s name before you even know the color of her eyes. How about your name, big guy?”“Green, good lookin’, and it’s Heller Von Tracht,” Hell said with a flex of his arm. “Do y’want to take a break for a bit and blow off some steam? I know a good time no matter where I go.”Marcella crossed her arms and smiled slightly, then raised her left hand. “Marcella Orologaio. Y’see this?” she asked, wiggling her ring finger with its golden band.Hell was nonplussed. “Second thing I saw, babe. Is that a no?”
“If I didn’t have this band, I’d take you up on that offer, pretty man,” Marcella closed her hand and waved her pointer finger, “But I’ve got all the man I want now.”“Was worth a shot,” Hell stood on his feed again and put his palms up in acceptance of defeat. “I’d have asked the lucky man too, y’know. I’m not the kind of guy that’s afraid to face another man for what he wants.”Marcella barked a laugh. “You go around hittin’ on married women that much, stranger?”“Only if they’re too good not to go for, honey,” Hell said, smiling broadly, “My own brother has a real fine piece of ass that I’d lay in a moment, but she didn’t take the offer so well.”“Hell!” Liemann barked, “Lay off for a damn moment. I take my eyes off you for a minute and you’re trying to get in the sack with the first pair of tits you see. You said you were going to look at the tanks…”“I said I was going to look, mother dearest,” Hell said, waving his hand like brushing off an annoying fly. “One of these days you’ll loosen up a little and drink something harder than small beer, eh?”As this nonsense was playing out, Luigi had gone to the opposite side of the commotion, where you joined him.“What do you think of these, Luigi?” You asked, “I didn’t get much chance to work with the sorts of these that we appropriated.”“The differences in these models don’t stand out at first,” Luigi said as he looked in the opened crew hatch of one of the Zephyr tanks, “The hull’s longer and the turret’s not so cramped, looks like there’s space in the back of that turret for ammunition or something. Treads are tougher lookin’. The engine’s a completely different model, and it looks like it has more ventilation and air flow. The temperature should be less a pain in the ass to manage, ‘cause of that, but more importantly, these should be a lot faster than they used to be.”“The weaponry looks the same,” you observed. A pair of “male” and “female” variants, with cannon and a machine gun respectively.“They’re iterations,” Luigi said, “Newer refinements of the old guns. The cannon’s longer, and the machine gun’s something different with a box feed system for the clips. There’s markings that say about everything on these was produced in 1919 last year, guess we’ll call these Zephyr 1919s, then.”
It was still very, very similar to a tank made more than ten years ago, in spite of the iterations. Perhaps since most of the fighting was finished between the larger and more significant powers of the continent, there was little need to push innovation, but this tank was likely inferior to the Delsan models used by the Trelani Special Armored Division…or perhaps, these older iterated machines were all that the Emreans were willing to let leave their country, especially considering how their first armored vehicles had been kept a great secret, however unsuccessfully guarded, what with the Reich deploying their own at nearly the same time.Still, it would be more than the Fealinnese could bring to bear to support a rear line prison camp. Tanks were something that they didn’t appear to have in their war against the Pohja, though by all indications they hadn’t needed them yet either.While the tanks were the showy centerpiece, they were far outnumbered by the volunteers that would be coming on foot. There were one hundred and two, and every single one of the men was a veteran of some sort or another, whether it was from a war or mercenary work or border scuffles. Leo had found a decent bunch, but you knew your own far better, and they had come from just as wide around, some having been in Gilicia where you left them, others having ventured to Sosaldt and heard the call to arms from their fellows, also trying to get the gangs back together.The Black Coats that had returned numbered sixty-seven: they’d make up more than half of your assembled force, and you had concerns that the Emreans might not appreciate their presence, but nobody save you knew what they had been before, and they were wise enough not to speak of what their unit was. Their title was now a misnomer, even, as none of their old black coats had either survived or been brought forth in favor of neutral greens and browns, though some steel helmets remained. To Debon and the others, they were fellow exiles of their homes, and there was a unity in such now. Especially given that they were fighting for the same cause now. Von Kalterose was the man who headed the new return of the Black Coats, his second being a vaguely familiar face, a young man then but grown older and scruffier now, one Vincent Vangheiss. He had a new scar that spanned the height of his face, and a new broadness to his shoulders and chest. An impressive development for a man who had once, near assuredly, been but a child pushed into war for an unknown reason.
You’d been concerned with equipping the force, but you shouldn’t have been. Plenty of the former Black Coats had kept their own weapons, and many of the more mercenary inclined had more they brought along, with their own preferred weapon having replaced older ones. It meant the weaponry was rather inconsistent, but you wouldn’t have to fight for an extended period of time anyways. All in all, everybody was well equipped as could be asked for. Some even had body armor, but others disdained it for its weight, especially if they expected to march with it. You planned for a baggage train of mules and wagons to carry most of what was needed, but the armor naysayers would always have (an admittedly valid) reason to keep on with just the cloth on their backs.Everything being ready to assemble and go, you had to ponder once again what your place would be. After all, you had experience with just about everything that had to be done, right down to the logistical planning and paperwork from your days under Di Zucchampo’s first command of you, back when he held dreams of a war of intellect and craft, before his superiors stole his talent to use up in a war of butchery.>You would stay back and coordinate the operation from afar. You did have the most experience as an officer outside of Debon, after all.>Ride the tank once again. How many more chances would you have to ride into battle alongside an Emrean War hero once again, after all?>Take charge of your Black Coats once again in the attack on foot. You had to be the first to see Cesare- to be the one to save him. The others could do everything else just fine.>Other?
>>5957550>Ride the tank once again. How many more chances would you have to ride into battle alongside an Emrean War hero once again, after all?
>>5957550>Ride the tank once again. How many more chances would you have to ride into battle alongside an Emrean War hero once again, after all?Vinnie already on his way to become a fully fledged stormtrooper. They grow up so fast.
>>5957550>Ride the tank once again. How many more chances would you have to ride into battle alongside an Emrean War hero once again, after all?For tonk commanders our MCs play infantry way too often, time to change things.
>>5957550>You would stay back and coordinate the operation from afar. You did have the most experience as an officer outside of Debon, after all.
>>5957557>>5957574>>5957591>>5957667It's tank time again.>>5957699"Colonel" is a rank you rather liked.Calling it in an hour or so, I'll try and push out a second update faster tonight to make up for delays.
>>5957550>>Ride the tank once again. How many more chances would you have to ride into battle alongside an Emrean War hero once again, after all?
>>5957550>You would stay back and coordinate the operation from afar. You did have the most experience as an officer outside of Debon, after all.The question is not what we do well, but what others do poorly.
>An hour or soLmao.>>5957799Another for tanks.>>5957845>>5957890More for watching.Writing.
>>5958133
It had been years since you’d commanded a tank, but you still felt the strongest when thinking about being in one. Your faithful driver would be at your side, and you would be riding alongside an Emrean war hero. Could you be anywhere else for this besides commanding a tank? You could direct from afar, yes…but that would mean you would not be part of the hammer that would smash apart the chains of your countrymen, your friends. No, you had to fight, and you fought best while encased in steel.All that needed to be planned was therefore ready, at least until you reached the place. The information Leo’s scouts had on the place was muddy, but it would absolutely stand out. It was no subtle complex, and the geographical location was certain for the lack of practically anything else of note. A pair of blurry photographs represented the sum of your intelligence on it thus far. Something you’d simply have to solve later.The seventeenth of October, it was finally time to go. One more time, you spent the morning with Yena and the children. They didn’t know where you were going- Yena wanted it that way, to not concern them, even though she could not hide how distraught she was.“I had thought this all over,” Yena said morosely as you both stood by the door.“It will be,” you reassured her, putting your hands on her shoulders.“Will it?” She asked, a tear welling up to roll down a cheek, “…You will come home to us.”“I will,” you said.“Do not make me wait a moment longer than you already will.” Yena said severely, another tear going down her other cheek.You kissed her, and held your wife close. “I promise.”One you had confidence in keeping. It wasn’t an unfair presumption to think that, with all that you had, you might for once truly be in no danger yourself. The shame of failure to save Cesare and the others, to lead people to their deaths, that was the true source of fear as you left your house, that had everything a typical man could ask for. Yet not all that you wanted.-----
Out on the trail you went- over the bridges, and beyond. Your expedition looked little different from some merchant caravan, or band of mercenary toughs without a flag or emblem. No normal local company would be likely to have tanks, you wagered, but those had been disguised by suggestion of Heller’s partner.“No reason to let anybody see us as we really are,” Liemann had said coolly as he revealed the shells that would go atop the Zephyr tanks, crude boxy structures with wheels that wouldn’t pass any close inspection, but from a decent distance would fool the eye decently well into believing that the tanks were actually trucks. “These people up northwest might not even know what a tank is, or a truck for that matter, but no reason for anybody to know at all until the last moment.”“There is no more suitable disguise?” Debon asked skeptically.“From what I’ve learned about Holherezh,” Liemann said as he picked a cigar out of a box in his jacket pocket, “Hay bales might be more fitting, but even theirs don’t tend to move or spew smoke.”The drivers complained, of course, of having to drive with an additional hood over an already temperamental vehicle, but it was very little hassle for what might be vital in preventing any warning from reaching your target. Even if they had no reason to expect that a filibuster was coming for them. Your official papers that would get you out of any trouble with Trelani suspicions came from an authorization for a mercenary expedition from your own department. Anybody who bothered to follow up on that paperwork would find that this strange mercenary outfit wasn’t being paid anything and had no stated mission beyond vague transportation escort, and as soon as this mission was over even that small bit of paperwork would be destroyed in its entirety, but it was just enough to let you move to your destination with little fear of official molestations or obstacles.You’d been in Holherezh before, but in its southeastern reach, where the land was little different from Trelan, meadows and foothills and open sky. As you ventured further within, the land transformed, the grasses made a deep gold by autumn, reaching up to the chest and studded with dry grains and berries where aggressive burns and clearings hadn’t cropped the growth down to the dirt again. Great dark stony pits and buckling of the earth where blue boulders had been spit out in some long forgotten tumult were common, and themselves ringed with other kinds of stones, again, assemblies older than the First Empire and still maintained by those left behind. Besides these dips and the occasional rise, Holherezh was a very flat country, and the mountains with their court of foothills far away could be seen clearly, just like the ocean might have in another place, but you were too far inland, and the land fell away into the distance westward as though you stood at the edge of a cliff that divided the world from naught but sky.
The locals could be seen every now and then, either bemused or distantly curious, but you didn’t wear the colors of the Trelani so they were more confused than anything. Holherezh had its own sellswords, but Trelan did not- not officially, as you were not acting under their direction despite the cover you had given yourself with your department. Nobody knew their language, which was just as well as nobody felt any need to interact. It would never be as simple as walking there and walking back, even with your relatively small warband. Much planning and procurement effort had gone into normal, mundane, and still rather expensive investments into getting food, water containers, camping supplies and wagon carts. Fuel for the tanks, feed for the mules, medical supplies for those that came out of the work camp that might need it. The amount of forewarning reduced the pain and shock of needing so much, but for all the headaches there were in planning, it meant that everything was ready to go just on time, the group as well prepared as it could be, even for unexpected setbacks while passing through occupied Holherezh.The meals of those days was reminiscent of army food long forgotten, and you realized just how spoiled you were by Yena’s cooking. Hard bread and pickled roots, dried fish and smoked sausage made up every meal of the day with the occasional treat of hard cheese and fruit preserves. Coffee was a necessity not skimped upon, and most everybody drank it with the notable exception of Hell, who complained of a lack of tea under his breath whenever coffee was served, though he wore a rigid smile of practiced gratitude whenever receiving the drink.One night, thieves did attempt to sneak into the camp. Three women, caught by one of the Emrean officers near a wagon, not unnoticed, but he had been curious who might dare to approach. While there was an armed standoff, an agreement was reached to allow them to abscond with a small share of goods.Heller, who had been the one to sacrifice his share of coffee and cheese without hesitation, had a thought right after. “Coffee doesn’t feed many people. Didn’t this all blow up right in the harvest season? Maybe they’re starvin’.”“They aren’t,” you told him, “The Trelani Republican Army has been giving them food. It’s part of their culture to steal things from each other. They live in a sort of constant controlled conflict that, say, the Trelani Army, or the Fealinnese for that matter, don’t appreciate.”“Besides,” the Emrean officer who caught them, a man called Jacque with a gaunt shaven face, added. “This food is not just for ourselves. We need this for the people we’re to save. Your charity is short-sighted, Sosalian.”
Heller made a small and carefree shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t think so. The one heading them had big fat tits and a cute face. Maybe she’ll show her appreciation of my kindness later, when I can let her take something else?””A woman should be handsome for one to warrant that talk,” Jacque said under his breath in his own tongue.“I can understand that, you know,” Heller said with a cracking grin.The Emrean snorted. “I know you can.”A bit more about the Strossvalder adventurer came out on the trail. He was an energetic sort, irrepressibly sanguine, boastful but rarely using words to do so. He held the rank of Captain back in the Archduchy, but from what Liemann implied and what some of the Black Coats could tell, he was talented enough to have risen higher, but he rubbed his superiors the wrong way, acted on his own initiative too brashly. He had been put on forced leave for insubordination, and responded by taking a holiday across the continent to go on some adventure that might end in a battle nobody would sing of. A strange fellow to understand, since he seemed to hold no Revolutionary beliefs.When asked about what his insubordination had been, Heller did not hesitate to tell.“Glory hounding,” he said with a grin, “I saw an opportunity and took it. My higher up wanted another noble son to have an easy victory and take the point for an attack on this fortified town that had to be taken during the Netillian trouble. I looked into it with my company’s vanguard, and I figured out that it was undermanned, and it’d be better to attack early in the night instead of waiting ‘til the next day. So we did, and we won without a scratch on us. The other guy whined about havin’ his chance taken, and so I got transferred. What a tragic story, huh? But I’m not so easy to stuff in the shed and forget about.”He wasn’t one to linger on the details, but Liemann was. “Tell the good people how many were in your van, and how many were in this undermanned village.”“Thirty-three on fifty,” Heller said dismissively, like it was a story about finding a bakery that sold bread for cheaper. “Just about that much, didn’t count how many ran off. All I was thinkin’ of was how fast I could smash them so we could move on to the real fightin’, and I got shifted off before I could reach it. But that wasn’t the last fight to have. I’ll put off my place in the spotlight in a badlands stage if another show’s gonna have the world in attendance.”
Less came out about Liemann. He was observant and analytical, but asocial compared to most anybody else, who felt comfortable in sharing their history (save for the Black Coats’ infamous initial operations, of course) in the company of so many like them. He would have been incredibly untrustworthy seeming, were it not for Heller’s own openness and his guarantee.Nobody was unused to the harshness of the trail, not even the women, Marcella and Elena. They’d both known martial camp life, after all. Marcella mostly worked on the tanks, while being doted on by Leo. In a strange sense, they rarely had this much time to each other. Leo had said that most of her time was spent with their children, and that Leo was usually very busy out and about with the Future Leagues. Something you couldn’t imagine Yena tolerating.Elena by contrast was only rarely amongst the expedition, as she had volunteered (no matter what anybody had to say in opposition) to scout ahead of the march on horseback, clad in the garb of the locals to try and avoid being targeted by any irregular militants who had ideas about ambush. Not that Elena would pass inspection on close observation, as no Pohja had her color of hair. The golden spectrum was absent from their kind. She insisted that she’d be alright anyways, after all, she had been trained and kept up her fitness. Her choice of a lever-action carbine did make her even more similar to the locals, and even if it made you concerned to send out a childhood friend to range ahead in unfamiliar territory, she never gave you reason to doubt her competence, hard won from years of courier work you’d never seen yourself.On the third day on the trail, you heard gunfire ahead, for five straight minutes. It wasn’t unheard of in the territory, but when you asked Elena about it, she said frankly-“Oh. That was me, had t’ scare off some rats.”“Are you alright?” you asked, looking over Elena, “That was a lot of shooting.”“Just tryin’ t’ scare each other,” Elena said, “Maria’s still all antsy, but I’m alright. It’s not m’ first gunfight, Bonetto. Not the worst. Don’t think we even were tryin’ t’ kill each other.” She checked a bandolier and a pouch, “I burned a lot of my ammunition, though. Don’t think we can do that again.”“Stay close to us,” you said, “We’re almost there anyways. Just a couple more days.”“…Bonetto?” Elena said, as she pulled out her ponytail and brushed the dust from her hair, “This is fun, isn’t it? Like old times…”She could be talking about several things of past times. “Like the wind that hails a storm, perhaps.”Elena laughed nervously. “I guess. And we can’t have our kids along fer this. But, jus’ bein’ out like this, in a new place, y’know?”You hadn’t been home in much long. Answering that question was impossible with such a cloud in front of you hiding what the alternative might have been.-----
The day came of the arrival- the new border between Trelan occupied Holherezh, and Fealinn. The golden grasses had faded into harsh hill scrub, and the mountains to the south loomed high. They drank up water and made the land here drier, and with the autumn chill, this place had become truly desolate. Nobody lived here, except perhaps mountainfolk from the peaks towering above and the rodents that made their rock piles in the sunny places.You, Elena and Leo had gone ahead to scout out the place. The work camp looked to be a mine, a great chasm carved into a pair of hills on one side, ringed with barbed wire fencing and wooden posts forming a palisade better suited for containment than outside protection, guard towers, and a great central fortification that watched over the semicircle of what were assuredly prison barracks. Half of the place was for work, and the other half respite, though the higher section was clearly the residences of the garrison. The patrols were aggressive, and you could only observe the place from far away, until it was time to get to the bloody business of this.“So this is it,” you said in simmering spite for the place, “The camp.” Its official name was cold and clinical- Arbeitslager H2, no more hospitable name labeled anywhere else. Merely a letter and a number. What it even mined was a mystery, not that any of you knew about digging into the stones for precious minerals. There was nothing you recognized as ore, only covered containers.“Funny as hell, Bonetto,” Leo said grimly, “I’m looking at this and all I can think is, that this isn’t nearly as tall as Castello Malvagio was, but it’s just as…evil.”You scarcely remembered what the Imperial fortress looked like. All you remembered was being beneath it. Running like rats in the trenches around and about it. This place had no trenches, it had no fortified tunnels, but it was a grave for comrades nevertheless. One you had to dig up, after much too long to bear.“They don’t look so tough,” Elena said, “Maybe there doesn’t have t’ be a fight.”“We shouldn’t underestimate them,” Leo advised, “They could stall for reinforcements. You see those? Telegraph cable. This place is important enough to communicate with. If they’re cut off, that might prompt a response, too. An ultimatum isn’t worth anything unless it’s backed up by force, and if the Fealinnese decide they can take us, we’ve lost the advantage of surprise.”“Still worth a try,” Elena insisted, “I don’t see how a big fight wouldn’t be a mess with all the prisoners around too.”“We’ll go back to camp to plan this out,” Leo said, “El, I have a secret weapon in my backpack. Can you get the black box out of it? It has a handle on it.”Elena went to his bag on the ground, and dug it out. “What is it?” She asked.
“A portable camera,” he said. “Bonetto, tell her where you got it.”“Emre had them, and they aren’t that expensive, either,” you said. “I don’t remember any of the type being in Vitelia, though.”“They’re popping up here and there,” Leo took the camera back, a toy-like box covered in leather save for a few brass dials and buttons and a glass lens. “…Did you get new film for this, Bonetto, or are we going to find dirty pictures of Yena on this thing?”“I don’t share so carelessly.” It was old film, but the only things you had pictures of were completely innocent.It was twilight when you returned to the camp, the members of the expedition now equipping themselves for war readiness. There were no cookfires, no songs, only the grim focus of maintenance and getting what rest could be found. A familiar time of cold coffee.The officerial sorts, with experience in tactical planning, all met around a table with the developed photographs later, a decent job made of making them despite the improvised setup that had to wait until darkness to not ruin the film. It was a lot of equipment to support such a little box.“Tonight,” Heller said first, “We should hit them hard and fast in the dark. We have tanks, we have stormtroopers. We’ll never win a drawn-out fight, but if we can punch in and capture the command center right here, or otherwise trap everybody inside and take out everything outside. Force a surrender, and we’ll be out before any response can be organized. Our people have experience with workin’ in the dark, and their guys are probably rear echelon who’ve never been in a real battle. It’ll be the hardest battle for them.”Debon had his share of plans next. “I agree that it would introduce the most chaos to the enemy to attack in the dark, especially with our materiel superiority,” He said, “But even the most skilled soldiers can be disrupted by the totality of darkness. The moon will not be bright tonight, we are unfamiliar with the land even with these photographs. We risk losing coordination, and losing track of friend or foe. I believe we should attack at dawn, after a deep infiltration. The sun will be at our backs, and we will have the light needed to operate at full capability.”“That also means,” Leo said his piece, “That we have to move behind enemy lines.”“I like that part. Daring.” Heller said. “Lets us cut the cables, too.”“But risky still,” Leo finished, “A friend brought up the possibility of using a show of force to demand the release of the prisoners, try to spook them into not fighting.”“Then we surrender an advantage impossible to reclaim,” Debon growled critically.
“That’s what I said at the time,” Leo agreed, but less harshly, “It’s still an option. Besides that, we could toss out any clever thinking and just dive straight in at daytime. The patrols are predictable and sloppy. If an Arditi team catches a patrol, we have a wide-open space to just run in and use shock to bowl the whole place over. Simple as hurling a rock into a Zhantao Porcelain shop.”Eyes turned to you, as even though Leo was the commander of the expedition, they knew you as co-commander, and also that you would readily sway Leo into one plan or another. Ultimately, the decision was yours of what plan to take. Though there was no reason you couldn’t think of something else, too, considering the caliber of people gathered around this dimly lit tent…>A night attack would be best. A sudden strike by good troops supported by tanks? Nothing could knock the enemy off balance more, and you would need all the advantages you could get for this battle…>Make the assault at first light, from behind the eastern side of the camp. It would be risky to maneuver there, but it couldn’t be denied that such would be the least expected place for an attack to come from.>Don’t make this complicated. You have the right men and equipment- a simple and straight up sudden attack in broad daylight would be the least risky operation even if it lacked the style and flair of other plans.>Try your luck at a bluff. Show up with your forces and demand the release of all the prisoners to you. The chance it would work without a fight was too much to simply give up on.>Other?
>>5958324>A night attack would be best. A sudden strike by good troops supported by tanks? Nothing could knock the enemy off balance more, and you would need all the advantages you could get for this battle…Our bread and butter.
>>5958324>>Make the assault at first light, from behind the eastern side of the camp. It would be risky to maneuver there, but it couldn’t be denied that such would be the least expected place for an attack to come from.Cutting the relay seems pretty important to me.
>>5958324>Make the assault at first light, from behind the eastern side of the camp(black cloaks). It would be risky to maneuver there, but it couldn’t be denied that such would be the least expected place for an attack to come from. Tanks from the south and west.Could we do a night op with our black cloaks on the other side and have our tanks hit them from the front first. They'd be so distracted by the tanks they wouldn't realize the black cloaks have already crawled up their bum and cut the telegraph wires. Aka a old fashioned pincer attack.Kind of best of both worlds. The black cloaks can catch any messengers sent out for reinforcements. We don't have to put the tanks behind enemy lines.
>>5958349Supporting
>>5958324>>Make the assault at first light, from behind the eastern side of the camp. It would be risky to maneuver there, but it couldn’t be denied that such would be the least expected place for an attack to come from.
>>5958324>A night attack would be best. A sudden strike by good troops supported by tanks? Nothing could knock the enemy off balance more, and you would need all the advantages you could get for this battle…
>>5958349Supporting the pincer attack. I don't know if we can infiltrate the tanks, they're fucking loud.
>>5958344I'll support this modification >>5958349
>>5958324>>5958349 has my soup port
>>5958342>>5958515Go in the darkness.>>5958344>>5958349>>5958461>>5958463>>5958520>>5958552>>5958598Hardly the first time you've assaulted somebody at first light from both ends.Writing.
“The timing will be at first light,” you decide, “But we’ll be dividing our forces. The Zephyr tanks are quite loud. They might hear them coming too soon, so I think they’ll have to come from the other way,” you pointed, “My contingent is experienced in night operations. Von Kalterose here can lead a sneak attack in from the other side, cut the cables and interdict any messengers trying to go out for help, and the rest of us with the tanks can make our move from this side. The rest of us make plenty of noise at daybreak from the front of the facility. Their walls won’t do much to help them, we have wire cutters and grapnels to make short work of it. By the time they realize we’re not the only enemy they have to face, it’ll be too late.”“I like it,” Heller smiled a broad flash of a grin, “I’ll take that job.”“No, you won’t,” Liemann interjected as Von Kalterose began to frown. “I mislike dividing our strength,” Debon said, “But it is true that these tanks, even disguised as they are, will not escape detection by anybody with ears that strays close.”“The amount of soldiers that might be in there could be two to three hundred,” Leo voiced his doubt, “Bonetto, are you sure your guys can take those odds?”“We don’t have to beat two to three hundred at once,” you said, “They’ll start this off divided already. They’re set up to defeat in detail, and the best way to do that is to divide ourselves as well.”“It won’t be just one surprise attack,” Heller surmised, “It’ll be two. Two torpedoes from either side.”“Exactly,” you looked to Von Kalterose, “You and your men can do it, yes? Accomplish all that is asked of you without blowing your cover?”“Nothing is certain,” Von Kalterose said cryptically as he cleaned his nails with an ivory pick, his appearance as well groomed as his name might have indicated, his time away from the Black Coats only seeming to have been devoted to making him a sculpturesque, beauteous creature with black curled locks to his cheeks. “However, my command is familiar, and the terrain is like that I have been within before. My soldiers are skilled and the enemy is unaware. If I should fail, it will be because the Judge Above demanded it, not because of any lack of competence.”
That would pass for a yes, then. “Good enough. Von Kalterose, brief your officers and have your men ready to infiltrate by three o’clock next morning. Everybody else, get ready for the same but be ready to deploy at six o’clock. We won’t be able to rely on any signals, so if anybody hears protracted gunfire, that’ll be the tell to do or die. We didn’t come this far to retreat empty handed. Understood?” None disagreed. The days of mingling had let everybody know what their angle of personal investment would be. Most, as it turned out, were further in this for their pride, and would have sooner gone down fighting than live with the insult of being put to flight. “We’ll reconvene at the arranged hours, just before you have to go. Get some rest. We might not get any for some time, if they choose to pursue us.”-----You sat cross legged in your squat tent, looking over the pictures you’d taken, the sketch assembly of what the land looked like, in the dimmed light within heavy canvas. The night was cold and dry, and you appreciated the warmth of the lamp keeping you focused as you sipped at black, bitter coffee full enough of grounds to fill your mouth with cold sand.“Hey, Bonetto,” Elena’s voice floated over before she pushed aside a flap and stuck her head in. “You won’t get no sleep if y’ drink coffee, numbskull.”“I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I tried,” you said without looking, flat toned. “You’re one to talk, too.”“I’ve got time.” Elena let herself in and sat next to you. “I’m going with th’ night crew. A girl on horseback’s more normal. Not so easy t’ see. No better place for me. Y’ got a problem with that, or no?”“You have a son,” you said, “You shouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way.”“Marcy’s got a son and a daughter, and she’s still here with her husband. ‘sides, if anything happens, you’ll take care of ‘im, won’tcha?”That was something you preferred not to distract you at the moment. “Did you ask Von Kalterose?”“He said t’ ask you.”“Heller might be better for it,” you mused to yourself, “He was a cavalry officer and he seemed to prefer night tactics.”“Already talked t’ him too,” Elena said, “In case he needed th’ horse. He didn’t. He wants to ride th’ tanks, and besides, he was talkin’ ‘bout how we don’t got enough mounts. Even if we loosed th’ mules, we risk them not bein’ able to pull anythin’ if they get hit. Wasn’t goin’ for it.” Elena laughed a small hoot, “Said he’d ride me if I wanted. Ain’t it funny, Bonetto? Some guy makin’ a pass on me like that? Told ‘im I’d think about it. Though…y’know. Not really.”“Not your type?” you asked.
“’S not that. More that I’ve stayed a virgin, sorta a shame t’ throw that away th’ just ‘cause a good lookin’ ‘nuff man gives me a smack on the bottom, after I’ve been single for a while.”“Hm.” Another distraction, but Cesare was still clear in the mind. He was much more what kept you awake, rather than any other fears. “Y’know,” Elena leaned her back against your shoulder, “So much’s changed, y’ tell me that things’d be like this twenty years back, wouldn’t have believed a word of it. ‘Specially with…our home. Our birthplace. Everywhere else I’ve been keeps on changin’, but that old town? It’s the same as it ever was. The people are older, there’s new kids, but everythin’ else…just like how y’ left it.”“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You wondered aloud.“Both. Neither.” You felt Elena shrug her shoulders, “Does it have t’ be? Not like th’ dawn’s gonna rise outta th’ place. Maybe th’ place’ll never change.”Maybe the world wouldn’t. No, you could cling to the meager assurance that it would. No matter what had to happen, no matter what misfortune or malady. A new sun would rise, and a better world would awake to that morning.“So what’ll it be, Bonetto?” Elena asked, turning her head, “I won’t go if y’ don’t want me ta. But y’ should. ‘specially if you’re goin’ y’self.”>Let Elena go along with the night party.>Keep Elena back at the camp.Also->Any other personnel management/assignment/specifications to plans?>Do anything else/speak with anybody else about anything?
>>5959195>Let Elena go along with the night party.Let's get this show on the road. I assume Leo is going with the stormtroopers?
>>5959195>Let Elena go along with the night party.>go to sleep
>>5959195>>Let Elena go along with the night party.What are the prison guards armed with? Small arms only?
>>5959195>Keep Elena back at the camp.
>>5959195>>Let Elena go along with the night party.
>>5959262>I assume Leo is going with the stormtroopers?This is the case, yes. Not yours, his.>>5959527>What are the prison guards armed with? Small arms only?It is reasonable to expect them to have machine guns, considering what they have to keep under control, but otherwise yes.
>>5959195>Let Elena go along with the night party.>Double check all preparations. Do we have everything we need? Is everyone prepared?
>>5959262>>5959425>>5959527>>5959535>>5959638>>5959689Let her along.>>5959531Keep her back.Writing.
“You can go,” you told Elena, “I wouldn’t be able to keep you from it anyways. You didn’t come all this way to watch a cold cookfire.”Elena gave you a loose hug. “Thanks, Bonetto. I’ll be fine, trust me. You’ve got plenty a’ other stuff t’ worry about right now.”That you did. Try as you might to sleep, every time you tempted the night to take you by closing your eyes and resting your head against the ground, it was futile. The lamp being off didn’t help. Clearing your mind was impossible. The quiet tempted other voices to try and whisper to make themselves heard in the lonesomeness.So instead, you trudged about camp, double checking everything. Seeing that those besides you were either getting rest, or weren’t forgetting anything. It wasn’t something you should have worried about. Anything you did find was of exceedingly minor consequence, and you weren’t about to tell people who weren’t even in uniform to button their cuffs, regardless of your history as an actual officer.The one thing you did look over and second guess were the shells of false trucks over top the tanks. The maintenance was being done around them, rather than dispensing with the things. Even though they were loose enough disguises that the driver could see out the front, the engine deck protruded into a false covered bed, and the turret barely cleared into and occupied a false cabin, you found yourself climbing up to fiddle with the bolts holding one together over top. They were designed to be able to fall open quickly if needed, but why have them still at this point?“The hell are you doing?” Liemann had come up silently, and you glanced back at him.“I think that the time for disguises is over.”“It’s never that time until the very last moment,” Liemann said, “Now stop messin’ with my work. If you need them off in a hurry, I’ve got explosive charges I’m about to put on them. Just enough to make them burst open if they’re too sticky.”You weren’t in a mood to apologize as you got down from the back of the tank. “I don’t want a single thing to go wrong tonight.”“Are you God now?” Liemann asked, “Sometimes there’s nothin’ to do but wait. Trust me. I know the feeling.”“What did you do in your mysterious past then, Schweinmann?”Liemann practically didn’t hear the slight. “I was born and raised to be a bullet, as far as I can remember. More a cannonball now, heh.” He touched his growing jowls with both gloved palms, “One day I met Hell, and it made me think about being something else. Anything else.”“You’ve told me practically nothing.”“What I was. What I am.” Liemann pulled a cigar out of his pocket, then put it back. “I hardly know a thing about you, but I know enough. Both here because we can’t stand just letting things lie, keeping on in our place in the world.”You squinted at Liemann. “Are you a Utopian?”
“Maybe. A society built by the strongest, where the most powerful are committed to protecting the weak, to building them up in a cycle where each succession is better than the last, where the strongest are the most honorable as well. An eternal, self-sustaining ascent. Does that sound like a utopia to you?”“Strength is needed to defend the downtrodden,” you allowed, even if succession sounded like the intrusion of aristocratic leanings. “Is that what you believe?”“I think it’s naïve as a young mother’s fairy tale,” Liemann shrugged, “But it’s what Heller thinks, and he’s all for making it real no matter what anybody says. Who knows. Naïveté can be plenty strong if it pulls everybody the same way. Makes me feel good to hear, and right now, I like that better than what I’ve known and seen.”You’d had your own ideology called naïve as well. Who were you to be critical? Still, though. You doubted Heller Von Tracht had been to any place as upstanding and renowned, as rightly respected as the Azure Halls. You’d see whose utopia would come about in the end.“Now get yourself some shuteye, if you hate waiting so much.” Liemann beckoned, “I’ve got stuff to help with it for a few hours if you’re having trouble. Herbal concoction. Just take a bit, though. It’s strong stuff and has side effects-“You took the little tablet and swallowed it. “I’ll deal with them.”Liemann put his hands into his pockets. “Best find some privacy, then. Nighty night.”The primary side effect turned out to be an unbelievable amassing of blood and vigor in the loins that would go utterly wasted, but you couldn’t have done anything about it anyways as you turned over in your tent and collapsed. It would be gone, if still stinging and aching, by the time you awoke. Just in time for the real final preparations, the night party already gone.>Roll four sets of 1d100 for operations. Higher is better. First two are for night operators, second two are for tank force. The first in each pair is for infiltration, and the second is for assault. Any roll above the infiltration DC has its overflow added to the assault roll. Infiltration is DC 30 for the night ops and DC 50 for the tank force. Higher is better in general for the second part, though it doesn’t have a DC per se. Also, since I won't be getting back to resolve this update until after work:>Use your tanks aggressively. The enemy wasn’t expected to have anything useful as ranged anti-tank equipment. That meant your tanks could be battering rams, be close support and cover…>Keep the tanks further off, out of the compound. They were much more useful as cannon and machine gun fire support, and they wouldn’t be able to do that effectively from within the crowded compound.>Distribute the tanks half and half. Two to go in with the troops, two to stay out. (Which ones- you have two of cannon type and two of machine gun type.)>Other?
Rolled 18 (1d100)>>5959965>Use your tanks aggressively. The enemy wasn’t expected to have anything useful as ranged anti-tank equipment. That meant your tanks could be battering rams, be close support and cover…
Rolled 23 (1d100)>>5959965>Use your tanks aggressively. The enemy wasn’t expected to have anything useful as ranged anti-tank equipment. That meant your tanks could be battering rams, be close support and coverCome on! COME ON! WE CAN'T FUCK THIS AGAIN!
Rolled 66 (1d100)>>5959965>Distribute the tanks half and half. Two to go in with the troops, two to stay out. (Which ones- you have two of cannon type and two of machine gun type.)Both males hang back, females follow the footsloggers into the thick of it.
Rolled 13 (1d100)>>5959965>Keep the tanks further off, out of the compound. They were much more useful as cannon and machine gun fire support, and they wouldn’t be able to do that effectively from within the crowded compound.
Bros we did it again...
Rolled 16, 35 = 51 (2d100)>>5959968>>5959971>>5959974>>5959981Interesting.Give me two more rolls, to be matched against these.
>>5959965Leave it to us to assault gulag guards with tanks and somehow fuck it up.>Distribute the tanks half and half. Two to go in with the troops, two to stay out. (Which ones- you have two of cannon type and two of machine gun type.)Machineguns inside, cannons outside
Rolled 99 (1d100)>>5960005
Rolled 38 (1d100)>>5960005Don't fuck it up!Don't fuck it up!Don't fuck it up!Don't fuck it up!
>>5960012>>5960015At least somethings going right (barely)........
>>5959968>>5959971Total Aggression.>>5959974>>5960011Half and half.>>5959981Keep your distance.I'll call it first thing in the morning and update then.
>>5959965>Keep the tanks further off, out of the compound. They were much more useful as cannon and machine gun fire support, and they wouldn’t be able to do that effectively from within the crowded compound.
Rolled 3 (1d3)>>5960295A triple tie.Alright then, I'll roll off for it. 1 for pushing in, 2 for halfway, 3 for distributism.
When you awoke, you went outside the tent flap to check your pocket watch by daylight- there was more time, you realized. You might have gotten up a bit early, and it was still rather dark with only the barest peek of sunlight coming over the east.So why did you hear gunfire in the distance? A skirmish north, perhaps? “Just in time, Bonetto,” Leo said as he saw you emerge, “I think there’s a problem.”“The shooting?” you asked.“It’s petering out, actually,” Leo said gravely, “I was just about to come in and shake you awake. We’re all about ready to move. The tanks are just warming up.“God Damnit,” you swore as you pushed yourself the rest of the way out, “Am I the last one up?” “The tanks will be, Bonetto,” Leo said as he helped you to your feet, “Do you need coffee? Luigi said you took a half-gdose of Vixen’s Hook.”So that’s what it was? You hadn’t heard of it. “No time for that. I’ll shake it off.”“I have some here,” Leo pushed a metal flask into your hand.“You’re a life saver, Leo,” you said as you unscrewed the cap and took a pull. “This isn’t our normal stuff.”“It’s a reserve of the good stuff from home,” Leo said, “I have a bit more. Was going to save it for later, but we have to go all in now.”“Do we know anything about it?” You asked.“No,” Leo said, “We’ll have to learn once we link back up with the night attack.” He slowed. “Bonetto?” “Yes?”Leo slapped you on the back. “Vittoria per Vitelia.”A little early for that, but you would be a liar if you said it didn’t hearten you. “Vittoria per il Futuro.”-----
The tanks went forth ahead of the column of raiders, a few scouts scattered ahead in case of patrols, though from what you could already see, your intent of a surprise attack had already been spoiled. All you could do was try and conceal the fact that this attack would be two-pronged. By some small mercy of the Judge Above, it seemed that any patrols had been spooked into returning, or being delayed, because your approach was utterly unmolested, and while perhaps heard, not recognized nor seen.“We go right in,” Leo said to the troops just on the other side of the hill, “The Emreans will be supporting us with cannon fire to the strong points we can spot, and our two machine gun tanks follow us in.”That would be you and Heller. You had familiarized yourself with the machine gun in question over the course of the trip- its operation would be no challenge to you. Luigi similarly had no trouble with the tank by now, and neither did any of the other crews. It was what you had come to expect of them by now.The disguise shells of the tanks now discarded, you looked at Arbeitslager-H2 from afar, saw the battle already unfolding.“What do you see, broc-hound?” Luigi asked.“They’ve hauled out all their heavy equipment,” you said, “Machine guns. They’re pouring fire out to the east. The sun might be in their eyes soon, and their visibility’s probably poor, but this isn’t the fight we wanted to have.”“You think they’ll have nasty surprises?” Luigi asked, “These things’ shells aren’t any thicker. An anti-tank rifle could damage us, a proper cannon would be the end of it.”“For a prison camp? No,” you said, “Reinforcements might have such things. Let’s try and be quick about this.”The announcement of the attack to begin passed about, and the tanks moved forth, no mind given to sneaking any longer. Their engines rumbled loud, and despite Luigi’s best efforts, the stony ground threw the tank back and forth, giving you only the occasional glance through the periscope at the turret’s height.Halfway to the gates, the sharp pinging of incoming fire bounced off the hull, and Luigi slowed.“Machine gun front,” he reported, “Eleven o’clock about, hitting us hard.”When you looked through the periscope again and searched, there was much more than one machine gun, and the fortifications were unexpectedly resilient from the look of the effect of the cannon fire coming in. You did your best to sight in the machine gun and do your share of the damage, but you could do little.For ages, you could only sit still and fling your ammunition uselessly forward. The troops couldn’t move forward, didn’t even try to, until the machine gun positions and the towers were all silenced. Slow and grinding work, and by the time it was done and you checked your ammunition, you were over halfway through it having used it all on little better than sharp insults.
Finally, you could move forward. You directed Luigi to crash the tank through the flimsy lock of the front gates, and searched for any holdouts as Leo’s bravos moved forward, their huge leader unmistakable at their head with what looked like a Stachello submachinegun, laden with blackened steel plates all over his body but hardly slowed. The prisoners were no fools. Already some had come out to see what was going on, what their liberation might look like, and the stormtroopers had prepared to destroy the walls wherever they could. A simple task with their explosives and cutters. As soon as gaps had been made, no prisoners waited, not to test the waters nor to thank you. They streamed out and away, sprinting as fast as they could, or limping, some leisurely walking like they were out on a Sunday stroll. It was impossible to control- the troops and tanks were already too distracted with a stubborn enemy. You guided Luigi slowly along as you passed through the prison blockhouses once the gates were cleared, keeping an eye on the central structure, a panopticon tower made of brick and concrete. It was laden with murder-holes that you were forced to suppress every time you thought you saw a shape move beyond it- the elevation capability of the machine gun was a heretofore unnoticed improvement. The commander of the guards here was annoyingly cautious- despite having more people, he was having his subpar troops fight like rats, hiding and running. There hadn’t been much in the way of casualties for your people, but a huge amount of time was being wasted.The sun had well risen into morning by the time you had control of the south side of the camp, where any prisoners might be found, and most of the enemy positions overrun had to be reduced to ruins in the process…most of the prisoners had fled during the initial breach, but you found more in the infirmary, others hiding, and they were escorted out. They were mostly Vitelian, but there were others that must have been from the east, from Holherezh, and to your dismay, from your position watching the panopticon, you couldn’t tell if Cesare had been found. The fighting had died down for some time when a member of the night attack force came around- he spoke to Leo, who had to excuse himself directly after, and then to you.“What happened?” you demanded of the runner, the job of gun cover being temporarily granted to your driver, “What was that fighting earlier in the morning?”“Bunch of trucks came along,” the trooper said breathlessly, “All dark. Five of them. They saw our scout and they got out just to shoot her and grab her. We didn’t have much choice. Sorry.”No other part of the mystery was given any thought. “Her?” You demanded. There were only two women in the expedition, and one was at the camp. “She was shot? How…bad is it?”
“Bad.” The runner said, “We lost two other guys, eight wounded. We gave more than we took, but we’re almost out of ammunition, and we’ve wasted a ton of time. When the truck people seemed like they were losing they set their stuff on fire, so we can’t steal. It’s not looking good, commander.”“Why is that?” you said, trying to put yourself back on balance. This wasn’t over yet, after all.The trooper elaborated. Indeed, there was a serious problem. You’d managed to break out the barracks, with the prisoners inside there, while holing up the enemy and keeping them locked up behind their walls and doors. However, due to constant rotating shifts, the other half of the prisoners were in the mines, and not only did you have to go down there if you wanted to get them, your cover had been blown. Reaction forces would be on their way here, ready for a fight. They could only approach at the pace of a march, but testing whatever the Fealinnese felt would be a sufficient force to crush you was a fool’s errand. Your casualties had been minimal, but that wasn’t the main problem with your forces right now. The real problem was that you had been forced to expend too much ammunition, and to keep using it keeping the enemy’s head down, and it had taken hours to get to this stage of control over the camp. The telegraph cables had been cut, but only after the initial battle over the strange convoy’s interruption. It wouldn’t be long before reinforcements would be here, and you wouldn’t be able to fight a battle for long before you were out of means to fight one with.You had to make a choice here. To risk it all and try your luck at complete success, or to accept the hand fate had dealt you, and avoid any further casualties…>Head out. You’d done all you can, and you didn’t bring anybody here to die. Your luck thus far had already been bad enough.>You didn’t come this far after so long just to fail. Into the mines- no man was being left behind today.>Besiege the central panopticon where the camp’s leadership had fortified itself. Maybe you could reach an understanding with them faster than you could liberate the other prisoners.>Other?
>>5960845>>Besiege the central panopticon where the camp’s leadership had fortified itself. Maybe you could reach an understanding with them faster than you could liberate the other prisoners.
>>5960845>Besiege the central panopticon where the camp’s leadership had fortified itself. Maybe you could reach an understanding with them faster than you could liberate the other prisoners.
>>5960845What sort of ammunition and field guns do we have? Is it possible to crack the nut or even whittle at the foundations enough to dislodge them in the time we have?
>>5960894>What sort of ammunition and field guns do we have? The heaviest weapon available are 4 centimeter infantry support guns on the tanks. More suited for breaching are the plastic explosive breaching demolition charges, but those aren't heavy enough to->Is it possible to crack the nut or even whittle at the foundations enough to dislodge them in the time we have?Definitely not. The order of the day would be busting into it through the doors, not knocking it down. They're not particularly hardened against war, but against the most likely prison riot scenario.
>>5960845>Besiege the central panopticon where the camp’s leadership had fortified itself. Maybe you could reach an understanding with them faster than you could liberate the other prisoners.>Grenades through the murder holes. Explosives in an enclosed space kills very well.
>>5960845>Besiege the central panopticon where the camp’s leadership had fortified itself. Maybe you could reach an understanding with them faster than you could liberate the other prisoners.>Other?Attempt to get sappers up to windows and doors while concentrating fire on the opposite side of the panopticon.
>>5960845>>Besiege the central panopticon where the camp’s leadership had fortified itself. Maybe you could reach an understanding with them faster than you could liberate the other prisoners.Burn it down
>>5960851>>5960855>>5961065>>5961097>>5961214>>5961236>>5961387>>5961433Unanimous siege decision.Alright then, writing.The full spread of Zephyrs, too. I end up spending more time on these models lately since I'm not sure what to draw for an update until it's done, I haven't been giving myself the time to do them. I'm never sure whether or not pictures are even wanted compared to just getting things out sooner.The Zephyr tank made its debut in the Emrean Liberation at the start of 1909, handily outclassing earlier, more primitive tanks made. It would have been available earlier, but Emrean Command waited until a significant number were available at once to maximize the shock of their counteroffensive. Different cities would put them together with slightly different features, hence why they are generally classified by city of manufacture, the "Atelier." After the war, production would become standardized across the Ateliers, into a form heavily reminiscent of the AdC model, the Atelier de Couronne (Arc en Ciel). These models would be exported in great quantity, and ten years after its first battles, the Atelier de Jumelles would create a new model designed solely for export, as newer models of tanks were being kept tightly held with the Emrean Republican Army. The Emrean Army itself expressed little interest in the model, as the 1919 represented the upper limit of what the design was capable of, and was already outmoded by secret projects. However, the rest of the world would take notice of it and eagerly purchase it.The Zephyr 1919 would not have as glorious a history as its forbears, however, as the most notable conflicts it participated in en masse would be in crushing defeats by the resurgent Grossreich as it took over Fealinn and Felbach once more, some time after its production run had ended.
A meeting of the officers was called on the spot- every other man maintained their positions, kept their watches, but was otherwise idle and waiting for the decision you had to make.“We’re not going anywhere with a job half done,” you established right away.“Brave words,” Jean-Phillipe said, “But we’ve no more time. Every moment we linger now risks our escape. Our expedition will have no point if it is a suicidal one. Those who followed us here are not seeking a pointless death.”“Then,” Leo said, pointing to the brick and concrete panopticon towering over the camp. A relatively squat fortification, but still taller than the gatehouses and thus the defining feature. It had become pockmarked by bullets and shells, but stood firmly still. “We have to make the move that finishes things the quickest.”“I was thinking the same,” you said, “but taking it is harder than just saying it. We don’t have flamethrowers, or poison gas.”“Killing the authorities wouldn’t have any point,” Leo shook his head, “But a close assault is going to be messy no matter how you do it.”…You might have lacked for ideal weapons, but you didn’t lack for ways to attack. Grapnels to try and climb up the sides, grenades that had been unexpended because of the extended distance fire exchanges. You certainly could kill them all, but as Leo said, that wouldn’t have much point. Though…flamethrowers…“We’ll set the place afire,” you said.“And kill all inside unless they fling themselves from the roof?” Debon asked incredulously.“Only,” you continued, “If they force us to. We know New Nauk. They do as well. Do they really want to defend this heap of dung to the death? Every single one of them? I don’t think so. We don’t have time to be more civilized about this. We issue an ultimatum and roll our dice on that.”Debon and Leo looked at each other.“I would rather not carry out the threat,” Debon said with discomfort, “But they know nothing about us. Perhaps they imagine that we would.”“It’s worth a shot,” Leo said, “We just can’t let them stall. Bonetto, will you handle it?”You scratched your chin and thought about it. Who was the most imposing figure here? Leo, obviously, but he was famous in Vitelia, and if he was confirmed to be here, it would be assumed to be for a state-supported reason, and a known figure might be retaliated against. Your own person…admittedly didn’t suffer that same issue, but Debon did, and neither of you were as imposing. Which left…“The Strossvalder,” you said, “He’s foreign and wild sounding. He’ll do it. He also doesn’t sound like a Vitelian or an Emrean.”
Heller was contacted, and he agreed with the logic, though Debon was critical of his rehearsal.“You are not cruel and bloody enough in your threats,” Debon said, “You want them begging from desperation, not thinking you can give them the length of rope to strangle you with.”“Hey, frog legs,” Heller said with a cracking of his knuckles, “I’ve got this, alright? I’ve known plenty of monsters. They’re not people I’d waste time talking to.”The fire quieted only for a moment- when two tanks were brought up to push down the exterior wall of the panopticon, to let you up to its direct perimeter. The tanks quickly covered every angle of escape, accompanied by marksmen. Under the cover of two tanks, Heller marched confidently to the edge of the building, and shouted up in New Nauk-“Hear me, you half-Imperial whoresons! You’ve lost! It’s time to give up! Save your own hides, if nothing else!”The response came, sharply, though with nobody daring to stick their head out of the place. “Who the hell are you!?”“Never mind about that!” Heller gave them nothing, “All you need to know is that you’re going to send your leaders down to parley, to surrender, and you’ll all lay down your weapons and walk away! The other option is that we storm this first floor, blow it down with our bombs, pour gasoline on the whole thing and roast you up like pigs!”“Whoever you are,” the voice shouted down again, “You are doomed! Fealinn will not ignore this attack upon our sovereign soil!”“I don’t recall asking for the whining threats of whipped dogs, calling for their bitch mothers!” Heller shouted up, “You have one minute until you either live or die! Send your leaders out or hurl their bodies out and come out yourselves, I don’t care which! Grovel, or burn!”Heller acted completely the part, you had to admit, as he had already summoned men up with crates (empty, but good enough to bluff with) and spare fuel drums from elsewhere in the camp, found in a hurry while planning this haphazard operation. It didn’t take a minute- arguing officers practically burst from the nearest entrance, almost being shot until they threw their hands up and showed they were unarmed.“What do you want?” Their lead officer asked, thin of breath and pale as a sheet. He couldn’t have been older than you- his Imperial-descended uniform was stained and spattered with blood, and his arm was in a sling. He may have seen more battle this day than he ever might have in his life, had he not the misfortune to come from a nation that crossed you.“The prisoners-” Heller began to say.“They’ve run off now, thanks to you!” the officer pleaded despondently in an exasperated interruption, but you knew what he hid.
“There’s more in the mines, you piss-soaked weasel!” you burst out in fury, “Order your men in the mines to surrender and turn over the rest of your prisoners, or else I will make sure that you will live in hell for the rest of your pathetic life! You will be carried away and you will never see the light of day again! You will never again have a glad thought or a peaceful rest! I will chase you down into hell and be tortured alongside you for an eternity to ensure that every devil’s knife that pierces your flesh is twisted within! Do you understand?”The officer stared, wide eyed. “Who the hell do you-“You grabbed his collar, brought him forward, and punched him square in the center of his face. “Alright!” the officer whimpered and dribbled spit, “It will be done! But it will take time-”Heller took control of the situation again out from under you. “All your people,” he said as he squeezed the officer’s shoulder threateningly, “They all come out and lay down their arms.”“Fine!” the officer still pleaded, teeth chattering. Somehow, he didn’t seem as afraid to give up as he was about…something else. Something to come. “Wh-why are you here? Just tell me that…”“Somebody with a lot of money and power found out what was going on,” Heller said vaguely, “And they wanted an example made. You locked up the wrong people.”Suddenly, the officer seemed to relax, substantially, even though that was not at all meant to be a reassuring statement. “The…prisoners? I…I’ll get them to give up.”He was allowed back up, and Heller wore the same look of puzzlement at the Fealinnese officer’s statement that you were sure was on yours. When he looked at you, he didn’t ask about that, though.“Hey,” he said, “You need a moment? I thought you were gonna kill ‘im.”“I would have,” you said coldly. “He knew better than to test us.”“…Cool off,” Heller gave unwelcome advise, “We’re right at the last hurdle.”You would have had a cutting retort, but Leo’s hand went on your shoulder. “Bonetto,” he said to you.“…I’m alright,” you said, putting your hand on his, “We’re just so close, now…”-----The prisoners were collected en masse, and the camp guards were disarmed in their entirety. Some of the prisoners that seemed healthy and collected enough were freshly equipped with the spoils of the enemy, though they were kept well apart from their old gaolers now that the tables had utterly turned. It was everybody, you were assured. Cesare would be amongst them- you hadn’t found him for sure yet, but questioning some prisoners gave you the answer you wanted. He would be among them- there was simply too much of a mass of them, somewhere from five to seven hundred men, to pick anybody out. Your reunion would come. It was assured. If only for one more setback.
“There is a problem, commander,” Von Kalterose said to you, coolly. “Our outer screens report sightings of the forward scouts of an intervention. Cavalry. We are out of time.”The prisoners were still not out, yet- and there was the possibility that you would be chased. No matter what any decided borders were, you doubted an attack of this scale would be tolerated merely because you dipped back across the border of an occupied zone of a country. Particularly not when Fealinn was the party involved.“Gather the officers,” you said to him, “All of us. We’ll need to decide this immediately.”You had found out some information from interrogation of the Fealinnese, concerning the likely reaction force. A quick reaction force of a trio of companies- one a cavalry company, and two companies of light riflemen, fusiliers, who would be slower to arrive than horses, but were quick marchers but who had attachments of towed support such as light artillery and machine guns. Around seven hundred troops in all, against your less than one hundred. Some of the prisoners had been armed, enough to potentially triple your fighting force to about three hundred, and around ten machine guns had been seized. However, the prisoners were also not in a healthy state, ragged and tired, hungry, and not at all in good fighting shape. Nobody had confidence that they could fight in their state, certainly not to the degree of your own volunteers…>Lead your adventurers on a preemptive attack while the prisoners are led away by a token escort. It could buy enough time for the prisoners to escape.>Stand and fight. The prisoners had fighting men amongst them, and they would be fighting for their lives. You had to defeat the enemy here, or else they would hound you and catch you eventually…>Retreat. There was no way you could fight the enemy in a straight up fight. If you delayed where you could into Holherezh, perhaps they would have no choice but to withdraw sooner rather than later.>Other?
>>5961673>Stand and fight. The prisoners had fighting men amongst them, and they would be fighting for their lives. You had to defeat the enemy here, or else they would hound you and catch you eventually…
>>5961673>Lead your adventurers on a preemptive attack while the prisoners are led away by a token escort. It could buy enough time for the prisoners to escape.Fuck it we ball. Hell has plot armor so no matter what, we can't lose!
>>5961673>Lead your adventurers on a preemptive attack while the prisoners are led away by a token escort. It could buy enough time for the prisoners to escape.
>>5961589Also good stuff, I'll never say no to tonk pics.
>>5961673>Lead your adventurers on a preemptive attack while the prisoners are led away by a token escort. It could buy enough time for the prisoners to escape.>hit them with the tanks and take all the machine guns. If we mow the calv down. We can definitely out run the foot soldiers.>qm does the prison have trucks or wagons of any sort? That could help us evac out after we mag dump the machine guns.
>>5961786>Can we use the disarmed soldiers as human shields too.
>>5961786>does the prison have trucks or wagons of any sort? That could help us evac out after we mag dump the machine guns.There are no trucks on site, though there are a negligible amount of mules with wagons elsewhere in the camp. Really, what was needed was already brought along but is at your base camp.>>5961864>Can we use the disarmed soldiers as human shields too.While you might not have qualms with less honorable conduct and neither benefit from nor are restricted by international military law (especially since Fealinn has not bothered to give any lip service to such treaties anyways) but your allies are unlikely to tolerate such modes of war, and considering that they're here for claims of honorable purpose, it would be unwise to test their resolve to personal honor since personal loyalty to you is not nearly as much a factor.
>>5961673Interesting. What was that officer so afraid of? Something secret and valuable going on here? They're mining uranium?>Lead your adventurers on a preemptive attack while the prisoners are led away by a token escort. It could buy enough time for the prisoners to escape.
>>5961673>Lead your adventurers on a preemptive attack while the prisoners are led away by a token escort. It could buy enough time for the prisoners to escape.>>5961686Careful with how you define plot armour anon, this is Panzer Commander, after all. For all we know we might end up responsible for Hell's infamous lack of fertility by getting his bollocks shot off today.>>5961763Agreed. Tonks are always good.
>>5961673>>Stand and fight. The prisoners had fighting men amongst them, and they would be fighting for their lives. You had to defeat the enemy here, or else they would hound you and catch you eventually…
>>5961681>>5961935Stick it out where you are.>>5961686>>5961743>>5961786>>5961898>>5961922Make a preemptive strike.Updating.>>5961898>What was that officer so afraid of? Something secret and valuable going on here? They're mining uranium?The prisoners might know something about it by necessity, though precisely why and what is probably beyond them. For what it's worth, at this point, while uranium is known about, the process of inducing nuclear fission in it is not, so it wouldn't be a desirable resource.
Time had to be bought, and there was no way to get that save for battle at this point. A battle nobody here had anticipated on having to fight, but there was little choice now. Even if you were low on ammunition and feeling the wear of hours of fighting, strained from all that had been done and still had to be done, you had just a bit more to push through. A short word was had with the other leadership. A small, token escort would be assigned to guiding the prisoners and trying to round up whoever had strayed, whereupon they would begin the long retreat. The rest of the adventuring party would press deeper into Fealinn to attack the vanguard of the Fealinnese reaction force, hopefully catching their cavalry off guard and delaying the enemy enough that the slower prisoner column could escape, whereupon the raiders would also flee. Even attempting to catch the enemy off guard, their cavalry contingent was likely to outnumber your element two to one. You had tanks, and the ammunition of the delaying party would be somewhat replenished by captured ordinance, but it would be unwise to underestimate a potential clever commander with access to mobile forces. If their foot fusiliers managed to reach you, your tanks would no longer be as great an advantage. Field guns could easily damage or destroy your tanks, or on top of their devastating effects on the infantry. You’d managed to have light casualties for now, in spite of all that had gone wrong. This final stage was where it could all change.Leo was placed in charge of guiding the prisoners and the general retreat. He was simply too important to risk in this audacious preemptive assault, too significant to allow to be captured. Everybody else could easily be claimed to be what your paperwork disguised you as, except him. So he embraced you one more time, as you parted ways.“This is the day we win, Bonetto,” he said to you, “Don’t make me have to come back and get you too.”That wouldn’t happen, you said, but only to yourself, as you steeled yourself to once again fight against the Reich…>Roll 4 sets of 1d100. Higher is better. DC for each roll is DC 30, 40, 50, then 60. You must pass two rolls to claim victory- however much each roll is failed by is added to the next DC.
Rolled 27 (1d100)>>5962298Is the Judge with us today?
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>5962298>>5962301The Judge hates utopianists haven't you heard? That's why we have Half-Light in our head now
Rolled 32 (1d100)>>5962298
Rolled 25 (1d100)>>5962298I suppose we still need the 4th roll, even if we can't win
>>5962301>>5962303>>5962304>>5962313I honestly wasn't prepared for rolls this terrible.But it's alright, necessity is the mother of invention.Writing. This won't be too long, it is a work night, after all.
We're fucking dead
Hey tanq, anons, do you fine folks use the QTG?
All in all Bonetto seems to have pretty bad luck in everything except for reproduction. Are we sure Utopianism isn't a cause doomed to failure? Maybe it's time to give up.
>>5962343Between this and Ashen Dawn/Luftpanzer/Ellowie arc, Utopianists have proven repeatedly they deserve to belong in the rubbish bin of history.
The odds of victory were low. You knew that, as did everybody who went with you, but perhaps the draught of heroism was drunk too deeply, and it poisoned you, as on some level, you must have earnestly believed you would triumph.Immediately, something went wrong. Only a slight lack of fortune, but a telling one, as the enemy cavalry force failed to be surprised by your sudden presence in their path. They were already scattered, already maneuvering, already seizing the high ground as you were moving to take the dominating terrain feature yourself.So you had to adjust plans, and move backwards. As soon as you had surrendered the initiative, though, the Fealinnese horsemen seized it, and you were harassed by opportunistic fire and hit and runs as you searched desperately for defensible terrain…and failed utterly. Even the stoutest hearts and the most elite fighters couldn’t possibly be at their best where you had been driven- into the knuckle of a shallow defilade, the ground too stony to dig with any speed, the enemy only held back by the firepower of your tanks and captured machine guns, but your ammunition, already depleted, was dwindling ever faster.The Fealinnese cavalry were not to be underestimated, either. They were quick and accurate shots, and they knew this terrain perfectly. No sooner would your tanks be moved to suppress a dangerous height they fired from, than another vulnerability in the shrinking circle of your lines open up. Your fighting numbers were reduced by a quarter, then a third, and then, only half of your force could still reasonably fight, the casualties taking up what little cover could be assembled over the course of the battle.You were encased in a steel shell, but not even your lack of wounds and limited visibility could delude you into how grim the situation was. The expedition’s fighting force was surrounded, and when you reached for a new set of clips to load into the machine gun’s ready box, you found that it was the last in the reserves. The fire of every other tank had been slackening, too, becoming more sporadic and conservative, even though they had already been only making careful shots. Was this the end, you wondered. You tried to not give in to despair, tried to tell yourself that hope was still there, but nobody could be coming to help. No saint would step forth and wash the battlefield with holy glory to save you, and your vision blurred, you thought of your family, your broken promises, and how wretched this defeat would be.At the very least, Cesare was saved. You had not failed there.Suddenly, however, the gunfire stopped. It was not your own- your troops were so low on ammunition that return fire had already been slow. You peered something through your periscope…then exited the turret, too weary to care about whether a sharpshooter would see you as an opportunity.
“A truce flag?” Heller said from the tank across, laughing madly, “Ha ha, ha…maybe they’re about to surrender, eh boys?”A few tired laughs. Some of the people were mad enough to find that funny in these circumstances, but you only fixed the approaching horseman, with a lance with a white flag on it, with a cold stare. The horseman halted his mount at the edge of your defenses, rearing the horse up with a despondent whinny. He wore a deep blue overcoat, hemmed with forest green and splotched with grey dust, a young face that would not have known the same war you had, but with lines that told that it was far from some fresh-faced recruit.“Hail!” he shouted in New Nauk, “I am Lieutenant Kufer of the 45th Western Battalion. I have come to speak with your commander, and to offer them terms of surrender.”You would claim this ignobility. Debon nor Heller deserved credit for this catastrophe. “I am Anton Anges,” you called out, an obviously false name that not even the young lieutenant believed from the incredulous look he gave you. “I am in charge here. Come closer.” The Fealinnese lieutenant came closer, and you both stared at each other with steely glares. “Surrender, you say?”“You are surrounded, and are obviously low on ammunition,” Kufer said, “Our reinforcements will be here soon, and they will bring artillery with them. Even if we cannot pry your tanks open, those guns will open your cans handily. This battle is over, and any reasonable man would admit that. I know not who you are, but you have fought too hard and bravely to be mere brigands or barbaric Holherezhi horse whores. Lay down your arms and surrender, and you will be treated with leniency, rather than shot dead for banditry. These are generous terms, and my captain expects you will take this proposal seriously.” Captain. What nerve. He wasn’t even waiting for the rest of his battalion, for even his higher officer, before telling you that the battle was won and it was time to give up.“And if I refuse?” you tested.“Then you will die,” Kufer said confidently, “You have no terms. Nothing to exchange. This proposal is already extremely merciful, and if you cannot take it for some mad reason, then we don’t have any reason to continue this conversation. There is no negotiation to be had.”So. This was it, then…>Surrender. What else could you do? You would not lead these men to suicide.>Refuse the offer. You had to make one final effort. One last try to pull victory from the jaws of defeat (Will require very hard DC rolls)>Other?
>>5962362>Surrender. What else could you do? You would not lead these men to suicide.
>>5962342>do you fine folks use the QTG?Sometimes. I don't post very often, though, and always without the trip. It's a very hit or miss place, depending on if people want to talk or if they just want to fight.>>5962343>Are we sure Utopianism isn't a cause doomed to failure? Maybe it's time to give up.>>5962347>Utopianists have proven repeatedly they deserve to belong in the rubbish bin of history.You haven't even gotten to try Utopianism yet, surely it won't taste bad once it's done cooking, right?Though yes, until now, you have been part of forces very directly aligned against it.
>>5962362>Refuse the offer. You had to make one final effort. One last try to pull victory from the jaws of defeat (Will require very hard DC rolls)Fuck it. We ball.
>>5962362>>Refuse the offer. You had to make one final effort. One last try to pull victory from the jaws of defeat (Will require very hard DC rolls)
>>5962366Qell then, allow me to cordially invite you to participate in that greatest of /qst/ community events, the official crossover husbando/waifu (or king & queen) contest! As one of the board's staple quests (maybe THE longest-running and still-actuve one?), I thought you folks might be interested in joining the festivities. If anyone deserves a shot, it's you lot. As a couple other long-running but sort-of insular quests took umbrage, though, I figured I'd make sure you weren't already aware.Taking nominees now, and for the next four days.>>5961634
>>5962362>Surrender. What else could you do? You would not lead these men to suicide
>>5962362>Refuse the offer. You had to make one final effort. One last try to pull victory from the jaws of defeat (Will require very hard DC rolls)No surrendering to reich dogs
>>5962362>>5962368Ok, I'm a no-balls pussy. >Surrender. What else could you do? You would not lead these men to suicide.We'll just have to figure out a way to get everyone out.
>>5962362>Other?Surrender the men, off ourself for the cause, become the Red Samurai.
>>5962362>refuse. Lie and say there's a whole battalion of whatever country we're fighting in. We were here for just the prisoners. Not the secret you have hidden in the camp. We'll leave it there since it isn't what we're here for. Or you can lose it to your enemy. And the world will hear of it. You think the rest of the world won't turn on you for it?>We'll leave and never speak of it. And you can reclaim it. Good deal no?Hopefully the secret is more important than us and the prisoners.
>>5962362>>Surrender. What else could you do? You would not lead these men to suicide.
>>5962364>>5962376>>5962402>>5962405>>5962584Give in. The fight is lost.>>5962369>>5962398Never surrender to Imperials again.>>5962546Commit seppuku, how very Zhantaoan....Well, not really, more Taishimese, but few on Vinstraga know or care about the distinction, or really care that the subcontinent of Zhantao despite being historically recognized as contingent empire is divided into several competing kingdoms since the fall of the Rui Dynasty last century when the last emperor was poisoned and-You know what, that's something to go some completely different time. >>5962558Try your best to convince this enemy that letting you go is in their best interests.I'll call and update in the morning.>>5962371Appreciated, and while I don't mind it, this sort of thing is something I tend to keep out of, unless what the players want specifically. I frankly don't know who I'd want to enter in the first place, would more want to go with people's own decision on that if at all.
>>5962623I'll tweak my no surrender vote to support >>5962558 's idea, for what it's worth.
>>5962623>...Well, not really, more Taishimese, but few on Vinstraga know or care about the distinction, or really care that the subcontinent of Zhantao despite being historically recognized as contingent empire is divided into several competing kingdoms since the fall of the Rui Dynasty last century when the last emperor was poisoned and->You know what, that's something to go some completely different time.Zhantao Quest soon(tm)?
>>5962362>>5962558+1
>>5962558Support
>>5962584>>5962402>>5962369>>5962364Guys the reason there was such a big reaction force is cause of the secret here. I really believe they don't care about the prisoners. Even the officer that surrendered to us was worried about why we were here and was visibly relieved that we weren't here for the secret. The secret is something massive and the reaction force is 100% here for it and not the prisoners. The enemy definitely doesn't want anyone to know or have the secret. It's our best gamble. Please support it.
>>5962362support >>5962558I didn't hear no fucking bell, surrenderfags.
>>5962364>>5962558I'll support this, worst case they call the bluff and we're still prisoners.
>>5962362>>5962368>>5962402>>5962558Sure I'll try in for this one weird trick!
>>5962558I'll support this, don't think it can make this situation any worse
>>5962929Thank you anons!
>>5962626>>5962697>>5962863>>5962938>>5962951>>5962963>>5962979>>5963188Go for the gaslight.>>5962705Fight it out.Guess you'll see how this works out. Updating.>>5962653>Zhantao Quest soon(tm)?Please, I've done two side stories back to back, too many diversions and and the story never ends.
Surely there was some way you could weave your way out of this. You clenched your teeth, felt the sides of your skull beat against skin. You were no fool brute. You were a graduate of the Azure Halls. A herald and vanguard of the future, the dawn. You headed commissions, educated thinkers, arranged international deals. Could you give up so readily, even if the odds seemed hopeless? You thought of all you could lose. If you didn’t return from this, what would Yena think? What magnitude of promises would you break? How long would your children be without a father, their mother without a husband? Yena was pregnant, this was no time to curl up and waste away.Though, you couldn’t easily lie your way out of this. Deception had never been a strong suit of yours. Combat? Study? You had risen above others there. You would confidently call yourself exemplary when it came to inspiring others and bringing them together, but would that help you now? Perhaps. This Lieutenant Kufer was young, and you expected his captain couldn’t be more intimidating than the likes of you. The least you could do was try and see how it worked. If you failed, then you would be no lower than had you not tried at all.“I believe,” you said, clamping your syllables with each flick of the tongue to forestall a stammer or a tired slurring, “That there is room to parley, actually. You’re in over your head, Lieutenant.”Kufer was nonplussed. “I was not told to engage in any bargaining. I am either accepting surrender, or I am not.”“Don’t be a brainless instrument,” you said critically, “You are an officer, not a spade to dig ditches with. Your captain doesn’t need an incompetent subordinate. Do you even know who we are, or why we are here?” You paused, and added, “Or why you are here?”“What a stupid statement,” Kufer said with an unemotional low tone, “We are maintaining the security of our territory. You are intruding upon Fealinnese land and attacking Fealinnese soldiers and property.”“Property!” you scoffed, “Is that what you call illegally held prisoners of war? No other state has failed to repatriate their former enemies after the war save you. Did you really think you could escape the consequences of that forever?” You had some fuel to burn, now. Righteous fury was easier to build upon than hasty threats. “We are far from alone here. We had one goal in mind, but if you wish to make a greater enemy of the wrong people, you may find yourself regretting not letting us slip away with what little we should not have even had to demand.”
The Lieutenant cocked an incredulous eyebrow. He must not have expected what must have seemed like delusion. Curiosity pulled at him, but hadn’t taken. “You are spending many words on a simple no. You anticipate rescue? I can assure you that we would know if it is coming.” His eyes narrowed. “You sound like a Vitelian. You ought to know that the Fealinnese have plenty of experience defeating Vitelians. Were it my decision, I would invite them to come and test us, and join you in our grasp.”“I wasn’t finished,” you said, “When we took that mining camp, the officer in charge of it was very disturbed, very concerned that we were after something, that we’d find something. Do you know what that might have been?”Kufer was looking bored. “It isn’t my business. Stop wasting my time.”“You waste both of ours by being so obstinate,” you said, “Speak with your captain about this, and he’ll come to see us himself. Tell him that, if we are captured, we’ve already got people on their way out, who know where this camp is. More people will come. They will know something is being dug here, unless a favor is owed.”Kufer put a hand to his chin, the smallest reconsideration going through him. “I’m of the mind to tell my superiors that you refused to surrender and leave it at that, but you are trapped, and time is against you. Sit here, then. If you are lying and my captain sees no need to consider what you have to say, then you only put off the inevitable anyways.”As the Fealinnese officer mounted his horse again and rode off, murmurs began behind you, until you heard Debon call out for you.“What did you tell him?” He asked. You repeated the conversation, in short hand. “This is our plan, then?” He said when you came closer, “We are in little place to be making such vague threats. Especially when they have an easy way to keep secrets from escaping.”“They don’t know where the others ran off to,” you said, “Only we do. By the time they can force it out of us, logically, they’ll be long gone. We’ve managed to hold off for some hours. If we say that they’ve been out longer, they have no reason to believe they can catch the others. They don’t even know for sure how many of us there are or why we’re even here. We have room to bluff.”“If you wanted to try this sort of game,” Liemann appeared as though from thin air, his face smeared with grease from his vehicle, “Then you should have consulted me. You’re not very good at it. That man knew you were a Vitelian the moment you opened your mouth. The fact of who we are is a vital piece of a bluff like this, a piece that shouldn’t be lost too eagerly. It lets them make assumptions we might not want them to.”Of course. Why wouldn’t you assume such expertise from a man with a name like his?
“Besides that, it was decent,” Liemann said more casually, “We have a little time to come up with the rest. You want to scare them into letting us go. Your threat’s going to be that, unless they release you to advocate for them, more of us will come by and mess up their operation, find out what the big deal is. You know what I’d do in their situation?”“Tell me.”“I’d let one or a few of us go, and imprison the rest. Hostages are a valuable bargaining chip, not so easy to get back after you lose them.” Liemann gave you a cold, half lidded glance, “’Course, that would be the easy was for one man to get out and leave the others hung out to dry. That the plan?”You curled your lip. “I should be insulted by that theory.”“No, then.” With how readily he brought it up, he must have had a natural distrust about others. Doubtless he still held the belief in the potential he mentioned. “But they may enforce that choice onto somebody of virtue anyways. Makes them easier to control. No, what you want more is a reason they can’t hold on to anybody. Something that makes us more troublesome to hold on than not. They don’t want whatever secret is here coming out. Somehow the prisoners don’t know enough about that for them to be getting ridden down. That’s what they’re most scared of. They can let us go because, theoretically, we can’t harm them. They don’t know that yet. A card we still hold in our hands. They also just can’t let us go as part of a big misunderstanding because we barged into their country, killed their people, busted up their camp and set their prisoners free. They should let us go in case you try and dig deeper, and you can let bygones be bygones if they do you that favor.”“Yes,” you said, “More or less. I think it’s very reasonable. What reason do our mysterious masters have to investigate them further if we didn’t come for their secrets, besides vengeance? It’s too much of a risk for them.”“You really do think the best of your fellow man, don’t you,” Liemann said with a gruff, exaggerated long sigh. “That’s something they can put off. Something they can get smarter people to think about how best to wring what they want from the situation, to find out how hard we’re trying to pull the wool over their eyes. If somebody’s a gambler, they’ll see bad odds like one out of four and take them. What you want is certain odds. Not a three out of four chance of trouble, a one hundred percent guarantee of trouble, with something they can’t afford to trouble their people with. Think about it. What does Fealinn have that it doesn’t need even more of?”“Enemies,” you said readily, “I think we’ve established ourselves as such.”
“I heard enough about you to not be talkin’ out my ass with this,” Liemann said, “Jean-Phillipe Debon, brother of one of Emre’s most prominent arms manufacturers, and you, important enough in Trelan to be rubbing shoulders with big name politicians, important links in their army, married with a whole mob of mosshead kids. How many different knives is Fealinn juggling? You think they want another set to have to manage, especially with Trelan right up next to their conquests? We can pretend to have reinforcements just like us, ready to fight, maybe they’ll believe it, but I think they could find out real damn quick even if they weren’t partial to fightin’ them too. A mercenary expedition’s only got so many guys, after all. If it were a whole other country’s army, though? I think they’d rather not get involved, rather err on the side of caution in exchange for the dressing down later.”“I foresee a snag in this plan,” Debon said darkly, “I would sooner not reveal my identity if it was unnecessary. I doubt our countries and allies will look favorably upon this either. Does Trelan want trouble with Fealinn, comrade?”“They wouldn’t turn it down,” you said, “But I didn’t advise for it.”“It’ll definitely cause trouble once word gets around, will have to deny what you can and be ready for the worst,” Liemann said, “But we’re not in a situation where we can hold back. It’s the final round, and it’s time to play our best hand. If you think you can win with three kings instead of four, then that’s on you.”>He was right. Best to use everything you had to lay on the pressure, given what might happen now…>You didn’t need to pull out that stop. In your opinion, it was better to be mysterious. If that didn’t work…well, it didn’t work.>This was all a bit too much. Maybe it would be better to just surrender.>Other?
>>5963701>>He was right. Best to use everything you had to lay on the pressure, given what might happen now…
>>5963701>He was right. Best to use everything you had to lay on the pressure, given what might happen now…Bring out the tea and biscuits. Make it look like we're as unperturbed as possible. They'll start shitting bricks when they realize we aren't scared or panicked. When the next one rolls up just smile and wave. Oh, we are not worried bud we did our job we only needed to hold you for an hour. We've gone above and beyond our orders. Rear guard is always a dirty job fren. Our masters will be ecstatic with our bonus find. Who doesn't love a free casus belli? Of course we could always keep our mouths shut since our mission was only for prisoners.... and I'd like to not sit in a prison camp for a year or two... but it wouldn't be the first time... That should be enough spin that they'll realize that having us bound by our word to not snitch on their secret and only losing some prisoners is the better trade than giving the trelians a free casus belli to move further. We can always hint at the reason the trelians did a mass modernization is for more than just hoz...Best I got anons if anyone thinks of anything else clever...
>>5963701>He was right. Best to use everything you had to lay on the pressure, given what might happen now…
>>5963701>>You didn’t need to pull out that stop. In your opinion, it was better to be mysterious. If that didn’t work…well, it didn’t work.
>>5963242>and and the story never ends>>5963701>He was right. Best to use everything you had to lay on the pressure, given what might happen now…
>>5963730>>5963751>>5963772>>5963858>>5964111>>5964130Pull out all the stops.>>5963907Risk it for the biskie.Writing.This side plot was not supposed to take this long but it is how it is
>>5964178 Will Uncle Hell ever tell young Richter and Anya about this fuckup down the line?
There wasn’t any reason to hold back with what was at stake. Once you were over the cliff, you couldn’t risk not having enough rope to get to the bottom. “I’d rather have a four of a kind,” you said, “Our luck hasn’t been good enough to bet otherwise.”“Everything we have then. It’s settled.” Liemann said with a rub of his hands, “Better get everybody ready before our second Imperial visit.”Debon was smoldering. “I will never hear the end of this from my brother, but I suppose we’ve no other choice.”“I apologize,” you said with a bow of your head, “I underestimated them.”Debon scoffed a huffy syllable, but he did not raise a disagreement.It was hard to cultivate hope amongst the remaining men, given how many wounded and dying they had to share your hollow with, how many were dazed by morphine or simply exhausted, but you had to admire their hardiness when they still did as you asked, even after having been led into a disaster such as this. Somehow, when you spoke, they still listened as though they had no reason to doubt you. So it was deemed time to break out the rations early, as though time was in fact your ally. The wounded were collected, divided into proper triage, and the dead were lined up in a neat row. No matter what, this battle was over. Though it was a grim reminder of failure to see how many you had led to their doom, or to mutilation. The Black Coats had always been ruthlessly minded about the suffering of doomed comrades- the standard practice had been to drug them into insensibility for their final hour, or to grant the mercy of a bullet or exsanguination. You saw evidence of such repeated here aplenty, but you already knew well enough what the pitiful moans of the dying sounded like, and were on some level grateful that they were not heard now.After fifteen minutes or so, the lieutenant from before returned, riding with a few other soldiers, and what must have been his superior, a captain, his collar trimmed with richer decoration than you remembered Reich officers having. A change from the old- Fealinn was said to be a militarist dictatorship after all. Everybody remained mounted, however. Apparently, this captain preferred to talk down to you- no need to fall for his game. You could care as little as you wished. After all, you no longer needed to lie through your teeth about what could happen, were you to be as haughty and self-assured as an Emrean heiress.
“Lieutenant Kufer says you have something to talk about,” the captain said. He was a bit older than you, nearing his fourth decade, if you had to guess, and he had a small mustache and beard cut to angled points. The flintiness in his eyes told that he was not new to the task ahead of him. You’d have preferred somebody more like the camp commander, who was obviously out of his depth. “I am Captain Rauber, and I am told by my Lieutenant that you think you should be allowed to leave, despite having given battle in our lands and in doing so killing and wounding my men.”“You can see that you have done the same for me,” you said, “Do not try and shame us. Our purpose here was not banditry, though I suppose somebody of your name would know plenty of that.”“Are you in a place to make petty remarks about names?” Rauber asked, undaunted, “I ought to demand that you kneel and beg, rather than allow you to shout up curses.”“I summoned you here to tell you what your subordinate would not hear,” you said, “That it is in your best interests to allow us to leave. Look at us. What battle is there left to fight? No matter what happens next, our part is over. I am extending you a courtesy.”Captain Rauber narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Explain yourself.”As he asked. “Do you know what is mined in that work camp?” you asked.Rauber sniffed. “Do you?”“No,” you said, “But the prison camp officers seemed terrified that such a thing would be found out about. Our troops intercepted a truck convoy that was trying very hard to be discrete. To the point of not tolerating witnesses.” They had shot Elena, you thought with a gritting of teeth. That group deserved to have been wiped out like it had. “Knowledge of that will get out. The world will be curious, especially after my benefactors demand to look into it, by force if need be.”Rauber glanced to Kufer. “Lieutenant, did a party of these people slip through our encirclement?”“A few scouts went to the Arbeitslager,” Kufer said, “The garrison confirmed that their stock of workers escaped while guided by a small contingent. He is telling the truth. We have been unable to catch them while also beating this group here.”“Unfortunate,” Rauber looked back down to you. “It seems like the most logical course of action for me to take would be to capture the lot of you to hold as hostage, in exchange for those who escaped holding their tongues. Rather than you slipping away and then betraying our trust later.”“That’s the problem,” you said, “I can swear on my honor that, if you let us go, you will not be bothered by our ilk again. If you don’t…”“You are in no place to make empty threats, adventurer,” Rauber said with disdain.
“They are not empty,” you said, “You cannot take us captive. It would be the worst decision you could make, and the worst your country would have to suffer. We are not simple mercenaries. I myself am Palmiro Bonaventura, a counsel of war to the Republic of Trelan. While I am operating outside of their guidance, they would loathe to lose myself and the volunteers I have brought. They wouldn’t hesitate to escalate this into a major incident. Tell me, captain. Can Fealinn afford more enemies? Especially considering what they might discover if they pressed into this flank, so vulnerable that our band could intrude and crush the garrison of your mine?”“If you are who you say you are,” Rauber said, unphased, “Then you would be causing great trouble for your country. You don’t look like a mosshead, and your name stinks of Vitelian. The workers were mostly Vitelian.”“I have proof I am who I say I am,” you said, removing your wallet from your pocket, “The officer over there. He is Jean-Phillipe Debon, associate of the Atelier de Jumelles of Emre. Do you want to anger one of the primary arms exporters during this time? I know that your country sources at least some materiel from there.”“Debon, you said?” Lieutenant Kufer suddenly said.“Calm yourself, Kufer,” the captain said, but he did glance over where you had pointed. “…Kufer said you spoke of associates, but did not imply you spoke of a government.”“They will come,” you said firmly, “Should we not return. The choice is yours. The glow of your small victory here will turn to ashes as Trelan takes the opportunity to seize your western aspirations. Or, you could be owed favors by myself and others. Take the intelligent, diplomatic course of action, captain. History might not recognize you as the cause of your country’s downfall here, but I assure that everybody who you know will.”Rauber frowned, deep creases cracking open around his cheeks. “Allow me a moment to confer with my men.” They rode off a short distance, and discussed something. They did not take very long to come to a decision, and rode back.You chose to keep up the arrogance. “The smart decision, I trust?”Captain Rauber fixed you with a glare. “…Surrender the personal possessions of you and every man with you, particularly identifying documents you have. Leave the remains of your fallen here, and finally,” the captain pointed to the tanks, “You leave your panzers here. We will allow you to leave then, under escort, until you are in Holherezh.”“Ridiculous,” you said, “You truly are a bandit, aren’t you?”
“You expect me to suffer humiliation for nothing?” Rauber shot back, “Be thankful that you are returning with your lives. All I take is the evidence that you were indeed here, as you will certainly deny even existing the moment you return whence you came. Perhaps my superiors will forgive this trespass. But they will know who you are. If you think yourselves safe to cross Fealinn again after this day…you will regret it. I will personally ask to be given the privilege of ensuring so.” He turned his head to Kufer. “Lieutenant. Take your troop and escort these dogs to the border. I will go to the Lieutenant Colonel myself to explain the matter. If these trespassers attempt to attack you or take advantage, I will convey to my master sergeant to bring our entire squadron down upon them and slaughter them to a man.”“Understood, Captain.” The Lieutenant betrayed no anger nor disappointment in this decision. “I wish you luck.”“I will not need it,” Rauber said scornfully, “Get these fools out of our lands.”-----The skin of your teeth. A hair’s breadth. That was the degree by which you escaped. There was no pride, no triumph for you, you might have marched with your backs straight but you were fleeing with your tail betwixt your legs in truth. There was nothing to be proud of, the way you had to wriggle out.Yet. Most of you would be coming home, even if nearly a third of those who had accompanied you would not be. You had liberated hundreds of Vitelians denied their right to return home with dignity, and that mattered more than any victory on a battlefield. There would surely be consequences, questions, and favors to call on afterwards- you had gained no approval for the filibuster, and you had just made it Trelan’s problem. True, the Union Party might have welcomed an excuse to forge a rivalry with Fealinn, but you doubted many people who might have wished to court your friendship would do so any longer, save for the radicals. It would all depend on how hawkish the government was, and remained. Debon also cursed bitterly about how Emre would have to engage in apologetic theatrics to excuse this “embarrassment,” but he did not seem to directly blame you in spite of the volume of complaints about what was to come.
It took a day to find Leo and the prisoners again, a credit to how quickly he had managed to abscond and avoid pursuit. Though there were so many of them that it would have been impossible not to hear word of their passage, you were admittedly slowed by the efforts of transporting your wounded- plenty could not walk, even if they were strong enough to not perish yet.Finally, when you found the camp of the expedition again, Leo went out to greet you ahead of a few adventurers standing watch, their numbers augmented by armed liberated.“Judge Above, Bonetto,” Leo squeezed you around your back, “I thought you were finished when you didn’t come right back. I really did.”“I nearly was,” you admitted, not wanting to be consoled now. “…We’re not in good shape, Leo. We need to get to a Trelani army garrison to treat our wounded.”Leo’s expression hardened. “Speaking of…Elena’s in bad shape, Bonetto.”“How bad? Show me.” Your legs were burning, but you could walk still. “The medics did what they could,” Leo said, “They hit a lung. She can hardly breathe, but they think she’ll live.”“I’ll see her,” you said, but as you walked, you had to ask… “Leo. Cesare was here, wasn’t he? Is he…here?”Leo’s face remaining rigid gave you little reason to hope. “He is, Bonetto, but the time there…it changed him. I don’t know what it is, but he’s not talking. He’s not all there. Plenty of the guys are like that, and…I don’t know what to think of it. I just hope it’s something they can recover from, because…” Leo pinched his brow, “It’s like he doesn’t even remember who I am, Bonetto. I hope we weren’t too late, and we missed our chance to actually…get him back.”News you didn’t want to hear. Something you couldn’t say anything about. You could only think about one thing at a time, right now, otherwise you would fall to your knees. “But your loved ones are all here, are they not?” A whisper in your ear. Not now.“Once again you escape justice,” came the voice from above, judgmental and bitter, “Look at how many have suffered for the crime of loving you. Poor, pitiful man, can your shoulders not bear the weight you have chosen to bear?”The angry bellow, at least, did not join this crass choir. Small mercy- each said their peace and left you alone. You could quickly forget that they had even intruded.Elena was isolated in a tent, laid on a cot, unattended. There were already too many for the few medically trained you had brought to dote on one person long. She was unkempt and dusty, her bandages changed and clean, but her breathing was labored and thin. Yet still, when she looked to who walked in, she smiled.“…Hey…Bonetto” she said weakly, “I feel like shit…”“Don’t talk,” you said, kneeling next to her, “Save your strength.”
“Sorry about this…” she wheezed, “I thought…they wouldn’t just shoot me, right? Didn’t think they’d just pop out and shoot a girl…ha ha…guess I’m not pretty ‘nuff t’-“ Her breath caught and she coughed loud and harsh, blood in her hand after she covered her mouth, red spittle trailing from her lip.“Don’t talk,” you insisted, putting your hand to her head, “Save your strength. You just need to hold out a bit longer.”Elena gasped, coughed hard again, but she shook her head. “It…really hurts, Bonetto. I feel worse than I’ve ever felt. I want t’ keep goin’, I got two t’ think about, but I think…I think I’m gonna die. Sorry, but, I…” She went into another fit of bloody coughs.“Don’t. Talk.” You put your finger to her lips as she glanced weakly at you, her weak breathing returning, “Please.”“I just…j-just gotta say, just in case…” Elena’s voice was haggard and rough, “If I don’t make it…take care a’ Benito…”“You’ll make it,” you reassured her, “But you know I would.”“H…He’s your…he’s your son…” Elena got out before a pair of wheezing coughs made her quiet again…she did not speak, but her eyes still looked to you, awaiting a response……To something unbelievable. Ludicrous. You’d never had that kind of interaction with Elena. Not once, not even close. Elena had always claimed to be a maiden, as well, and yet this claim didn't seem to be one of madness…>?
>>5964399>"You are going to make it, and when you do we'll talk about this further. For now, please rest."
>>5964399>?"I promise."Please don't tell me she did a Hilda, I can't really think of any other time Bonetto would have time to sire a bastard of his age besides Gilicia.
>>5964399>?It won't come to that, but he'll always have a place in our home.
>>5964399Well we survived I don't remember Hilda so I'm not 100% sure what she's talking about so I'll abstain from voting on this one.I say we encourage the trelians to body the fuck out of fealinese. Might as well dog pile them while we can. We could probably cut off their battle lines while they try to take the capital of hoz. And they're definitely mining uranium. 100% they're trying to make a nuke.
>>5964412I sincerely doubt a third rate power like Fealinn has the scientific or economic capability to even support an atomic programme, unless they're selling whatever they mine off to a great power like the Reich
>>5964188>Will Uncle Hell ever tell young Richter and Anya about this fuckup down the line?He never ended up speaking with Richter much, at least that he can remember.Anya would never repeat something that she didn't consider glowing praise, of course.>>5964412>I don't remember HildaConsidering Hilda Glennzsegler is currently ten years old and on the other side of the continent, that doesn't matter.
>>5964399>Fuck no, if you die, to an orphanage he goes. So don't you dare to.Did she somehow steal our bodily fluids?
>>5964399>What do you mean? Genetically, or just in spirit?
>>5964399>?Sad as it might be to think about it, can we really say there's ever been any other figure that comes closer to a father for this child, besides Bonetto? I don't think it would feel wrong to call him son, if the time came for that. Of course we'd take him in if the worst were to happen, but it won't, because Elena is the strongest woman we know.Elena's not some wild, scabby shack dweller and we didn't play around with her heart. She's seen Bonetto grow and move out of the countryside and build happy marriage with a growing family. She might be lonely but I don't suspect Elena would stoop so low as to drugging someone for a night to put that much in jeopardy. >>5964412Mining for lead, nickel or manganese without proper protection will cause memory loss and a general breakdown of the motor and neurological systems, like Cesare seems to be exhibiting. Not sure if that's the kind of medical information Bonetto would know off hand, but he'd probably be more aware of how useful those materials would be to a military dictatorship like Fealinn. Those are only three examples I can think of, but they seem like a little more of a grounded conclusion to jump to first rather than suspecting fissile material, particularly after tanq said as much the peoples of Vinstraga are still only using uranium to make their crockery glow.
>>5964810They wouldn't be secretive about lead, Nicole or magnesium. Maybe tungsten. But most likely it's uranium. BTW lead is always found around uranium. Since that's what uranium decays into.
>>5964403>>5964406>>5964410>>5964688>>5964761>>5964810Variations on the feeling, though it won't matter, because you're not going to die yet.Writing.
“It won’t come to that,” you said, touching Elena’s cheek, “You’re strong. You’ll make it. If I must, I can take him, but that won’t have to happen. Now don’t speak, and rest. Anything more to discuss about this will come later.”She was perturbed, and frightened, but Elena understood. She didn’t insist on speaking further- her coughing subsided. You stayed with her for a bit, but Marcella came to take your place. With the new lack of mechanized equipment, she didn’t have a particular specialty right now anyways, and you found a space to leave to go visit Cesare.It didn’t make sense, no matter how you thought about it. Benito was around the same age as Luigi, and he had only been conceived when you had found Yena again. The closest you’d ever stayed around Elena was during your time in Gilicia, and after that, there hadn’t been any time at all where, even if she had dared to, that there would have been any of the sort of contact that would result in that.It wasn’t difficult, or unlikely, it was impossible. Yet what reason would there be for her to lie? The medics were confident she would pull through, though. It would be alright, and given that Elena had, up until she believed she might pass away, had kept this whole thing a complete secret and asked for nothing, it might have even been better to forget about all this…Time for the other friend in need. One in need for years. Leo led you to him, amongst other former prisoners who had been draped in blankets to guard them against the oncoming autumn cold. You tried to search him out before you even reached him, but every man was bedraggled and lean, all of them had a stoop to their stance that was slowly being straightened. Only when you saw a long unseen step in a gait did you finally know for sure- a blonde haired shorter man who was by himself, who had gone to sit by a wagon and look at the ground. You moved to him- anxious to see and be sure.It was Cesare, for certain. Even ten years apart couldn’t change that, but he was no longer himself. His hair was long and uneven, his face thick with a scruffy full beard that went down as far as his hair to his collar. The look in his eyes, though, was what disturbed you the most. They were far off and distant, unfocused, staring to some unknown horizon.“Cesare?” you asked carefully, and his eyes snapped to you with new alertness, but his posture remained slack. “What happened to you?”He stared still, but didn’t seem to understand. Or, if he did, he was unresponsive.
“Bonetto,” Leo said softly behind you, “He won’t talk. I don’t know what it is, but from what the others said, he’s been like this for a few months. This just…happens to them eventually, they said. They also said they get better when they’re kept out of the mines for long enough to recover enough to work, before they’re put back in. It didn’t matter to them if they can communicate. Hopefully it’ll wear off soon. Even if it takes years, we’ll still have got him back.”“What has happened to him?” You asked, “What have the Fealinnese done...?”Leo shook his head sadly. “I don’t know. Nobody else seems to either. He walks, he does tasks, he doesn’t have to be nursed or coaxed to do anything…but it’s like a puppet moves, Bonetto. All that’s there is…his dignity, on some level.”“…Bo…” A dry sound was uttered from Cesare’s lips, hoarse and rough. “Cesare?” Your attention snapped again to him, “Yes, Cesare, it’s me, it’s Bonetto!”“Bo…Bo…” Cesare mouthed in dry rasps.“Yes, it’s Bonetto,” you said as you embraced Cesare tightly, “It’s alright now. Leo and I, we’ve come to save you. You’re safe now.” It was all you could do to not let the tears flow. Ten years. Ten long years, unfairly imprisoned, because he saved you. Ten years of his life stolen from him that could never be taken back, but at least that time was left had finally been denied to your enemy, that you hated more and more with each moment.As you journeyed home, you found yourself talking to Cesare. Telling him about what had happened to you since the war. Talking about Vitelia, about your growing family, what you had been doing over the years. They were always one side conversations- Cesare would only ever respond with the same repeated syllables of your name, and sometimes he didn’t seem to understand, but you hoped it was just the beginning of the road for him. You couldn’t bear the thought that your once clever and brave friend might have been reduced to an idiot for the rest of his life, driven utterly mad by whatever had happened to him in his decade of internment.Some of the prisoners you had rescued had been Holherezhi. With little idea what to do with them, you handed them over to Trelani Republican occupation troops for processing. Free travel wasn’t particularly approved of in Holherezh right now with the ongoing insurgencies, but you were assured that they would be treated humanely. All the better. You wouldn’t have wanted them to go from one prison to another. The Holhrezhi might have been considered backwards tribal barbarians by the Trelani, but you bore no grudge against them.
Elena and most of the wounded were dropped off at a Trelani army base to be cared for by surgeons with proper equipment. When they were stable enough, a missive would come to you, as you took responsibility for managing them. It was the least you could do for the sacrifices made for you, though there were those whom you couldn’t even have the remains to. You could only wonder what you could tell their friends and family…if they even had any you could contact, or find out about. Many an adventurer had actually been a relative loner, come back to find what they had failed to find away from you and others in the martial life.When you finally arrived in Trelan, it was time to say goodbye to most. The foreign volunteers would be returning home with all haste, on transportation through Paelli arranged by Leo, and from there to Vitelia, then to wherever they needed to go. Debon would be departing by the northern sea instead, and you all convened one more time to say your goodbyes at once, before parting ways.Though you lingered with Leo and Cesare longer.“I can get the finest doctors in the Kingdom to help him and others, Bonetto,” Leo said, his hand on Cesare’s shoulder. “We saved people, Bonetto. We did a good thing.”“How many prisoners of war were taken though, Leo?” You wondered aloud, “How many others are there, in other camps like that?”Leo sighed, a dark seriousness on his face. “More, Bonetto. There’s plenty more. Maybe we could have gone after those too…but we probably shouldn’t, with what happened. What we had to do.”A sad realization. This would be the only time something like this could happen, at least partially due to your own failures.“Don’t look like that, Bonetto,” Leo tried to comfort you, “We didn’t know what would happen. If it wasn’t for you, we couldn’t have even tried this. The people of Vitelia will know, Bonetto. They’ll know who brought back fathers, sons, brothers, husbands. Then, I don’t know how long it will take, but surely, it won’t be much more time until nobody can keep you from coming home.”You could hope. You could but hope.
All three of you huddled together for a group embrace, even if Cesare was not particularly capable of such.“We’ll all get back together in Lapizlazulli soon enough,” Leo said, “It’ll just be like old times.”“No,” you tried to look forward, “It’ll be a new dawn for us all, finally.”With that, Leo went to send Cesare on his way with the others. He and Marcella would be staying a bit longer, to pick up their children from your home, but when you got back to Pietranello it would be very late. So they remained at an inn, for now, as to not disturb any sleep.It would be you returning alone tonight, and for a little bit, you were once again alone in a most unfamiliar way.-----When you got back home, it was very late. The streets were lit, but the trolleys were resting in their pens. Your only choice was to walk home yourself, tipping an imaginary cap to the night constables as you walked by them on the stone cobble streets uphill to where your house was. It had been so much bigger when you had first gotten it, you thought as you finally happened upon it again. It had been a long time since you had seen it in this state of complete quiet from outside. It reminded of you when it was only you, Yena, Vittoria and Lorenzo. Since then, you had gained three more children. A sixth was on the way.Leo and Marcella’s twins would be picked up tomorrow, and Benito would have to stay with you until his mother recovered. Yena had been caring for eight children the whole time you had been away, about ten days. It was nearly November, now. Yes, she had access to hired help, but Yena didn’t like spending money, and you had no doubt she had tried to shoulder all the burden herself.
You took out your keys, and opened the door, expecting a dark and silent house, but your wife waiting in bed. Instead, as soon as you came through the door, you saw the dining room lit up by a single candle, and Yena leaning over the table, watching the door, her hair loose and wearing a yarn shawl over a nightgown. Her dark circled eyes lit up anew when she saw you, and she padded across the house over to you.Without a word, she put her arms around you, and you returned the gesture as Yena pushed herself into your chest, and you held one another at the doorway, without a sound save for the wind outside. You stared down at your wife- she had been named the most beautiful woman in the city, but she never looked her best when she was made up and dressed to impress, you felt. She was at her best when her hair, ever longer over your lives, floated about in stray strands like a halo around her, when she was flushed and sweaty from exertion, whether it was from laundry or the rigor of childbirth. When she was in an apron with her sleeves rolled up, or in nothing but. The Yena you could see and nobody else would.Yena broke the quiet. “You feel so tired,” she said, barely above a whisper, “You look sad, and weary.”“A lot happened.”“But you are back,” Yena said, rubbing her hands across you, “And I am here for you.” Another moment of quiet, and she tilted her head up to look into your eyes. “Did you want to talk about it? Or do you just want to go to bed?”>There was plenty to talk about, and nobody would be listening this late at night. Get the load off your mind with your wife. Take a walk on the night time streets. Not like you hadn’t marched enough.>No, there wasn’t anything you wanted to talk about. It would all upset her, and tear open healing wounds for you. All you needed right now was the love and affection of your wife, that was better told in ways besides words.>Nothing to talk about, nothing to do. You were just tired, and the only way to fix that now was to sleep in your bed again. To not think about how close you had been to not getting to do so again.>Other?
>>5965297>There was plenty to talk about, and nobody would be listening this late at night. Get the load off your mind with your wife. Take a walk on the night time streets. Not like you hadn’t marched enough.I believe we have close enough relationship with Yena to turn to her for emotional support.
>>5965297>>There was plenty to talk about, and nobody would be listening this late at night. Get the load off your mind with your wife. Take a walk on the night time streets. Not like you hadn’t marched enough.I wonder what she'll think of Cesare.
>>5965297>No, there wasn’t anything you wanted to talk about. It would all upset her, and tear open healing wounds for you. All you needed right now was the love and affection of your wife, that was better told in ways besides words.Let's go for kid number... six? Seven?
>>5965297>There was plenty to talk about, and nobody would be listening this late at night. Get the load off your mind with your wife. Take a walk on the night time streets. Not like you hadn’t marched enough.
>>5965297>>No, there wasn’t anything you wanted to talk about. It would all upset her, and tear open healing wounds for you. All you needed right now was the love and affection of your wife, that was better told in ways besides words.Six, six, six
>>5965297>No, there wasn’t anything you wanted to talk about. It would all upset her, and tear open healing wounds for you. All you needed right now was the love and affection of your wife, that was better told in ways besides words.
>>5965309>>5965320>>5965397>>5965414Speak to this creature you have married and had many children with about your stresses and concerns.>>5965322>>5965418>>5965427Talk won't solve anything. You want what the two of you alone can share.She's already pregnant you're allowed to do things for fun.Calling it when I come back, around an hour or so probably.
>>5965517>>5965555Two more for walking.Updating.
“…I have plenty to talk about,” you said to Yena, “Do you want to take a walk outside? I’d rather speak of it out there.”Yena nodded. “Let me get dressed. The nights have been chilling, lately.” She had seemed tired- and still did- but she was finding new energy for you. She had been staring at the door, waiting…though you wondered if she had expected this or something else. You were led upstairs, and you watched Yena disrobe, and dress once more, into a heavier dress and shawl, its hood pulled over her head and tied neath her chin when you departed out into the streets.The night was quiet save for the sound of alley cats, the clicking drone of winter cicadas early in emergence, and the wind, a cold front from the Iceforth. Your hand was around Yena’s waist, and her arm around yours, as you walked down the hill.“How have the children been?” you asked, “Have they been giving you trouble?”“Some,” Yena said, “They have kept each other company, but after a week…they miss their parents terribly, Palmiro. Vittoria longs to have her father back most of all.” She held your arm tighter, “They will be very happy come the morning, I expect.”All except one. “…Benito will have to stay with us somewhat longer, dear,” you said solemnly, “Elena was badly wounded.”Yena froze and her grip tightened further. “What?”“A callous patrol shot her off her horse,” you said, “When she fell, she broke ribs, dislocated a shoulder. The bullet pierced her chest. She’ll survive, but it will take some time for her to recover enough to come and take her child back home.”“That’s…” Yena wobbled on her feet, “That’s terrible…”“Things went pretty terribly,” you admitted to her, “We were caught off guard, and we barely escaped with our lives. We managed to rescue our comrades and countrymen, Cesare among them, but our luck was very, very poor. I had to make difficult decisions to convince our enemies to let us escape.”“Decisions…such as?”“We were made to give up our identities. To place our loved ones at risk should we attempt something like this again, and the bodies of our fallen were taken as well. My greatest defeat I’ve suffered. My worst indignity. I am sorry, Yena. To them, and to you.”“Is…” Yena swallowed thickly, “Are we in danger?”“No,” you said quickly, putting your other arm around her, “No, never. But…I fear I will have left too much undone.”Yena’s lips tightened, and she bowed her head. “…You came back to us, and that is what matters most. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done if you had been taken from us.” Her grip softened, and she swayed on her feet, needing you to steady her. “I don’t want to think about it.”“It’s alright, love,” you said, holding her still.
“No more battles,” Yena said, new firmness in her voice, “No more…crusades. This was already too many times, and if what you say is true, we almost lost you.”“Nothing like this will happen again,” you told her. For better or worse, it was true.“Good.” Yena’s voice was shaky, but she believed you. Her hand went to her stomach, and rested against it. She was not pregnant for long, her body would grow much more swollen, but she knew life grew within your wife’s womb. Yena’s fertility had no reason to be doubted. “Our sixth child…” She cooed, with adoration growing in her voice.“You had to take care of eight children,” you said, “Are you up for eight?”Yena leaned her head against you. “Of course I am. It’s tiring, but I can do it…” She glanced up to you, “But I learned, especially over these past days…children need a father, Palmiro, as much as they need their mother. No matter how hard I work, they need something that you know how to give. I have all the strength I need, so long as I have you.”…Frankly speaking, you weren’t sure if you could handle eight children. A happy wife made a happy life, it was said, but did the wife really need eight kids? Or perhaps, somehow, more? “…Elena told me something,” you said, carried away by your thoughts faster than you thought to consider what to say next. Was this right to tell Yena? You didn’t know, but you did know for certain that you couldn’t be blamed for anything. “She thought she might die, so she told me a secret.”“Oh?” Yena frowned at you, “Then I shouldn’t know, should I?”“I think you should.” You stopped by a park, fenced in by a stone wall that came up to the waist. “Elena’s adopted son, Benito. It turns out, if what she said was true, he’s not adopted after all. He’s of her blood…and mine.”“Oh.” Yena’s response was not what you expected whatsoever. A calm and unsurprised syllable. “So she told you, then.”“…What?” You coughed, “What do you mean by that? Did you know?”
“I did,” Yena said, and she let go of your arm to lean against the stone fence, facing you. “…I pitied her, Palmiro. I met her, and got to know her, and I felt like…like I had stolen her life from her. Like I had swooped in like a hawk and taken what was hers. What was both of yours. My reward has been happiness like I never thought I might have, so when she was so steadfast, when she helped us so much, helped you find me and our family, after she had spent that time by your side to try and help you in Gilicia…I…I saw how lonely she was. So.” Yena’s hands went to a lock of her long, jade hair, and she stroked it in thought. “I wanted her to share my happiness. I gave your seed unto her, and know the bliss that I felt.” She looked up at you doubtfully, searching your face. “I would have asked, but Elena did not want any obligations owed. It was better for all of us, she thought, that nobody knew. But now you do. I know what it is like, to fear for my life. I don’t blame her for telling you that, begging as she did. But…” She trailed off, and stared at you with a soft frown. “It was no plot of her, Palmiro.” The voices. Not so loud and demanding, but still insisting to be heard. “A stain. A black mark on your fealty perpetrated against you. Of course a mountainfolk woman would see your blood as something to give away like a cheap gift.”“Oh, hush.” They were bickering, now? “Would you want a dear childhood friend to be lonely? What harm is brought about by more love, more life in this world?”“Finally something to agree upon.” The seething, furious voice, its passion now focused into smug airs. “A worthy, Vitelian heir. A gift from her for the good of all. I’d only ask why you’re thinking of this at all. Does a great leader of the future need bother himself with anything so petty as the limit of one woman? Bringing forth the dawn is not done when you are shackled by even the smallest hesitation, you know.”The confusion and strain on your face had nothing to do with Yena, but her eyes widened with worry. “I only wanted her to be happy. And I think that she was, and is. To me that is what matters most. Don’t you think?”>You supposed so. If that truly was the intent and result, who were you to try and shatter apart a good thing because of knowledge that would have never hurt anybody to hide?>That was not her decision to make. You did not want to be an illegitimate father. Couldn’t she see that this was a slight onto her? The only children you had ever wanted were Yena’s, and now, you can’t forget that you have others…>You did have obligation now, though, didn’t you? Whether or not you were party to his conception, Benito Giarno was your son by blood. Why hide it, why pretend that you were not thusly family? >Other? Also->Roll 3 sets of 1d100, repeat if any rolls are 100. Yena is, after all, expecting.
Rolled 6 (1d100)>>5965628>You did have obligation now, though, didn’t you? Whether or not you were party to his conception, Benito Giarno was your son by blood. Why hide it, why pretend that you were not thusly family?Whatever the case, the kid is blameless in all this.
>>5965628>You supposed so. If that truly was the intent and result, who were you to try and shatter apart a good thing because of knowledge that would have never hurt anybody to hide?
Rolled 23 (1d100)>>5965628Fucked up dice
Rolled 49 (1d100)>>5965631>>5965629Wish me luck.
>>5965628>That was not her decision to make. You did not want to be an illegitimate father. Couldn’t she see that this was a slight onto her? The only children you had ever wanted were Yena’s, and now, you can’t forget that you have others…
>>5965629>>5965631>>5965633Dice still hate us
>>5965628>You did have obligation now, though, didn’t you? Whether or not you were party to his conception, Benito Giarno was your son by blood. Why hide it, why pretend that you were not thusly family?>How can we condemn the child to grow up without a father? You just said that the children need more than just their mother.>Demand that she stays with you and your son. You won't condemn him to a life without the love of his father.We ain't having no criminal son or some drug addict.
>>5965628>You did have obligation now, though, didn’t you? Whether or not you were party to his conception, Benito Giarno was your son by blood. Why hide it, why pretend that you were not thusly family?Looking at people like di Nero I can't imagine being a bastard goes over very well in a place like Vitelia.
>>5965628>You supposed so. If that truly was the intent and result, who were you to try and shatter apart a good thing because of knowledge that would have never hurt anybody to hide?I'm sure this was a violation of some kind, but I'm willing to forgive them. We know, at least, that Elena didn't have any plans to sue for child support. Did she really want to be a single mother so much though?We have no obligation to the kid, btw. Anything we do for him is out of the goodness of our heart.
Rolled 42 (1d100)>>5965628>>That was not her decision to make. You did not want to be an illegitimate father. Couldn’t she see that this was a slight onto her? The only children you had ever wanted were Yena’s, and now, you can’t forget that you have others…
>>5965628>That was not her decision to make. You did not want to be an illegitimate father. Couldn’t she see that this was a slight onto her? The only children you had ever wanted were Yena’s, and now, you can’t forget that you have others…Disappointed in you, Yena. If the situation was towards her I'm not sure if she'd be so happy about it.
>>5965628>That was not her decision to make. You did not want to be an illegitimate father. >However, you did have obligation now, though, didn’t you? Whether or not you were party to his conception, Benito Giarno was your son by blood. Why hide it, why pretend that you were not thusly family?All my homies hate rape. But the kid didn't do shit. Still Yena will have to gain our trust back, guess it's fitting after we sort of broke our promise to her.
>>5965785>drugging for sex is comparable to breaking a promise
>>5965788I mean obviously not. It's just something I thought about.
>>5965628>>5965778I think I'll change my vote to support >>5965785>>5965789I was mostly just taking the piss out of this.
These rolls man>>5965628Supportan >>5965785
>>5965628>>That was not her decision to make. You did not want to be an illegitimate father. Couldn’t she see that this was a slight onto her? The only children you had ever wanted were Yena’s, and now, you can’t forget that you have others…I feel a little dumb that we were deliberating over telling her the truth about the operation earlier and meanwhile she was hiding something so much more important from us. Is seedstealing consistent with utopian ideals? How did she even do it?
I slept incredibly poorly and only woke up forty five minutes before it's time to go to work.No update today.
Alright.>>5965629>>5965659>>5965668Do I not have an obligation regardless?>>5965630>>5965691Some secrets are better silent, perhaps.>>5965643>>5965756>>5965988>>5966208I never asked for this, and yet I have it...>>5965785>>5965792>>5965797...But there remains an obligation.Updating.Blonde Boy by the way.Also something else will be happening soon.
“No,” you said, with a slow shake of your head. “I don’t think that at all. That was not your decision to make. The only children I ever wanted to have would belong to you, yet you’ve made me an illegitimate father? Yena, I am your husband not some…some breeding stud.”Yena’s frown turned lower, opened. Dismay weighed her cheeks. “Palmiro, I don’t-”Yet you were not finished. “Do you deserve the implication that you have an unfaithful husband, Yena?” You demanded, “No matter what now, this other child is mine, and I can’t forget that.”Your wife’s shock had worn away, and she just looked miserable. “Palmiro, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I only thought…It doesn’t make you unfaithful at all…”“Now, I have an obligation now, don’t I?” you trampled over her plea, “Whether I want it or now, Benito is my son by blood. Why should I hide that we are family? You said it yourself, does a child not need their father as well as a mother?”Yena really didn’t like having her words thrown in her face, and she bit her lip and furrowed her brow. “A father, Palmiro, Benito is Elena’s son, but that doesn’t mean you are his father for true. Whatever seed made him, you gave to me first.”You didn’t have to imagine the details to know what that meant. Elena didn’t need any contact with you whatsoever, if Yena gave to her what she took freely anyways.“Even so,” you said, “He should be part of our family.”Yena’s mouth twisted in despair and her teeth clenched as two emotions ran solidly into one another. “Palmiro, that’s not…our family is us. Our children. Elena didn’t want this, and I don’t want it either, I-” She turned her head aside, biting her lip, “We aren’t discussing this, Palmiro. Not tonight.”“What,” you straightened in indignance, and shot an accusation, “Are there other secrets I’m not being told, for the sake of everybody’s happiness except mine?”Yena’s face fell, in terrible hurt. “No, Palmiro, I…Of course not, I would never…”“Except for now,” you corrected her, “So that’s it, then.”Yena said nothing, but nodded sadly.“Fine. Let’s go back.”You didn’t really want to talk about anything else tonight, even if there was more. This would dominate your thoughts anyways. Neither of you said anything as you walked back home, and not when you went to bed. No goodnights, no kisses, and certainly nothing escalated from there. Making love to Yena would bring about thoughts of what else might come about. Your back was to her, and you stared at the starry night outside, trying not to hear Yena’s pitiful attempts to hold back weeping.-----
Your relations with Yena remained frosty over the next few days, and she was listless, and sad. She did her household duties, took care of the needs of the kids, but she sat and dwelled in herself at all other times. Even your children couldn’t help but take notice, as Vittoria, your ten-year-old eldest daughter. told you when you were talking one day after she came back from school.“Did you and mommy have a fight?” Vittoria asked. “It’s been two weeks. What happened that made you leave, and now she’s sad all the time?”“I didn’t leave because of your mother, Vi,” You said, petting her head as you both sat on the stone fence ringing the house’s front garden, “I had to go on a business trip.”“Mommy was sad then too.” Vittoria said blankly, “Lolo’s sad because mommy’s sad, Papa. So is Lui. What’s wrong?”Benito. Bonetto. You hadn’t thought it would be so plain. “I can’t tell you right now, honey.” Not until you had spoken more with Elena about it, when she recovered. In the short words you and your wife had shared since you first learned about it, you had at least come to that agreement. Even if you couldn’t help but stare at Benito and realize how much you should have seen. How he didn’t just share his mother’s features, but next to Lorenzo and Luigi, they all shared similarities with you as well. Vittoria didn’t like that, and her tone turned aggressive. “Why not? I don’t even remember the last time mommy was mad at you, the last time she was so sad. She’s not mad at you, so you must be mad at her.” Her impudent little girl fury turned on you. “It’s making everybody sad! Stop it!”You glanced at her, nonplussed, but somewhat proud. What a fierce girl she was. If only she knew much she reminded you of yourself when you were young, when you stood up to your own family and sought to venture off to learn how to right the wrongs of the world. Vittoria wouldn’t understand what was happening. Yena said she would teach her about the birds and the bees in a couple years, in time for Vittoria’s menarche to be in the years soon following. Yet she was right. Yena might have hurt your trust in her, but she was your wife, and mother of the children.“Alright, Vi,” you said for her, “I’ll make your mommy happy again.”It would not be so simple as that, as suddenly shifting face would only make Yena feel worse, as though you put on a mask. Yet you did try to warm her again, and Yena’s depression faded, even if she knew why you couldn’t stare into her eyes as longingly as you once did. She cried sometimes still, but her belly grew out and rounder, your next child on their way regardless of any smaller drama.
Luigi and Benito became very good friends over the next months, regardless if they were half-brothers in secret. They were of similar age, and were invigorated by one another, quickly becoming a menace to the eldest sister. Vittoria’s complaints about them being annoying fell on largely uncaring ears- she was the big sister, she had to learnt to be patient. Benito’s mother remained hospitalized, and recovering, her son being taken whenever possible to visit her, even as he despaired at how she seemed to be hooked up or placed within different contraptions each time. The doctors anticipated that Elena might not fully recover her old breathing health, but she would at least be able to live a fairly normal life.When it was time for her to be discharged finally, near the end of the year, you finally could have the discussion about her son…your son. To say she wasn’t happy with your judgment was an understatement.“God damn it, Bonetto,” she said sorely as you met outside the hospital, without her son, so you could talk this over. “I shoulda told ya, I know, I shouldn’t have put that on ya, but I never wanted y’ t’ be Benito’s dad. I’ll find another man, and he can help if it’s that important t’ ya. Not th’t I’ve ever needed it. I wouldn’t a’ had ‘im if I thought ya’d need t’ take care a’ him.” “He’s our son, Elena, no matter what either of us thinks,” you said to her crossly, “Am I supposed to do nothing for him?”“That’s what’s been th’ case the past five goddamn years, ain’t it, Bonetto?” Elena was always more headstrong. She wouldn’t be pushed down like Yena would be, if she thought she was right. “I’m not keepin’ him with ya. I’ll stay ‘round, but if y’ keep this fool goddamn notion in y’ head that y’ gotta play the part of his father, I’m takin’ him an’ leavin’. I’m not yer second wife, Bonetto. Don’t put that shit on my boy. Don’t put that shit on yer kids neither.”“Why though, Elena?” you demanded, “You’re clearly still able to bear children. Why did I have to be the one, instead of anybody else?”“I already had my chance, Bonetto,” Elena said defiantly, “I still got Giuseppe’s name. I’m not gonna do ‘im worse than I already did. Benito’s got the name of a good man, and even if he don’t got his blood, that’s what I’ll tell ‘im. My husband deserved kids. I don’t deserve no other husband than th’ one I threw away.”
The discussion would not be civil. Elena wasn’t brought up to be polite when she was mad. There was an agreement made, though.>There could be no agreement that you could sign off on. Benito was your son, and you would be his father. If Elena would rather leave than allow that, then you couldn’t stop her.>The children didn’t need to know- but you refused to let Elena subsist on her own. You had to make sure she and her son were properly cared for. And she would find a husband, stat, no matter what she thought she deserved.>Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.>Other? (Must be something Elena would agree to. Else she will leave with Benito)Beyond that ugly business, the rest of the world did not stop moving for your benefit.The diplomatic incident you caused did have repercussions to Trelan, which frustrated politicians and military commanders both as the Fealinnese demanded recompense with temporary joint operations. Admittedly, this state of affairs came right in time for Trelan’s part in the Northwest War to reach its greatest height with the Battle of Jurokrastas in the first two weeks of December, where an attempted counteroffensive and a deliberate offense ran right into the teeth of one another. The Special Armored Division found glory in blood and thunder, as the Pohja alliance’s flanking troops, searching for the joint between the Fealinnese and Trelani lines, ran headlong into the armored elite formation and suffered terribly for their audacity. By the year’s end, the Pohja’s military lines had been broken up and put to flight, the damage done to them forcing them to finally concede the Holherezhi capital, and to eventually retreat without cease northwards, practically ceding the whole of Holherezh to its invaders.In February the 2nd of 1921, the Trelani Republic’s Lands Assembly declared a successful end to their intervention in Holherezh. The occupation would continue, but an accord had been reached with the Pohja countries. One that had little significance, since by then the Trelani Army had already moved as far north as it had planned and the Fealinnese had taken advantage of the disarray of what remained of Holherezh’s defense to occupy as much territory as possible. Now, Fealinnese troops stared back across at Trelani from fortifications, though there was no state of war. Only testing unarmed raids and movements back and forth. The Fealinnese were overstretched, though- in your work, you had come to learn that they could not balance between occupation duty and continuing to fight the remnants of Holherezh’s Army and Wezkatinbach’s forces, as well as now volunteer forces from Ohtiz. They chose to fight on the battlefield rather than try and pacify the countryside. Time would tell if this decision would prove their triumph or downfall, especially as Felbach seemed to be reconsidering their ceasefire in the region as well.
For the Trelani Republican Army’s part, in spite of the parades, despite the spoils and booty and the bombastic pride shown by the Union Party in achieving the easy victory you promised them, the formation of a Holherezhi puppet state buffer was easier said than done. Mountainfolk flowed in, directed out of occupied Holherezh and handed over by the Fealinnese, much to the joy of needy bachelors. However, Trelani press was free, and critical headlines from Welfare Party aligned journalists told tales of oppressive commanders ruling over their occupied governates like tyrants, ugly rumors of harems of female captives and reprisals upon unruly natives. Such was contradicted in information your work exposed you to, as “reprisals” were often armed conflicts rather than the slaughter they were portrayed as, but it was undeniable that many troops had sated themselves, justly in their eyes, for the dull yet dangerous work of occupation over a populace that saw them as racial foes on top of being invaders.The Republic of Pohja-Trelan was declared the summer of 1921, a purposeful dismantling of the tribe and clan based governmental structure, rearranged into districts based on military occupation. Already the Welfare Party was asking when the occupation would be ending, but given the stubbornness of the native Pohja, the answer seemed to be that a violent insurgency would be constant.Once, you might have been asked to give your judgment here. Not now- the amount of favors you had to call on dried up to a merely “somewhat even,” where you were still treated well by the Union Party, but your expedition had caused too many problems to let you be the decider of matters “outside your specialty.” So, military occupation continued, but solely with Pohja military men, their numbers rounded out with Pohja conscripts who had to be drafted anew to replace Nief’yem troops returning home. The Special Armored Division, elite as it was, thusly finally came back. Though you noticed many of their men had a disgruntled looking dusty-brown headed to silver haired Holherezhi woman with them, their stripes torn from them. Such “war booty” was apparently common, as the Union Party had hastened to appease the recent lack of new Nief’yem pure couples by allocating more funds to go to “half” Nief’yem children produced by families, with the unintended side effect of motivating the most appealing men, military folk, to take war brides rather than try to court their own country’s women. The social turmoil that was sprouting was none of your business, though in some mildly amusing consequence, your wife caused a fashion explosion when her Atom Suit was shown to her female friends when they were bathing once. The threat of foreign women demanded drastic action- the sudden importation of Emrean smalls must have baffled some northern ponce to no end.
Summer went into fall again, and though you had still not quite forgiven the trespass against you, Yena’s heavy pregnancy forcing her to hold onto your arm warmed your heart, and in the second week of October, she suddenly lost balance in her legs, gasping. It was time, again.You held Yena’s hand as you witnessed the birth of your sixth child, a blonde boy this time, practically the image of yourself, though newly born. It pleased you, as you cradled him in your arms- it had taken a surprising amount of time to achieve what you had rather expected to have the first or second time…you now had a family of just about every combination you could have of children.That left the name…>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.>Name your third son, and the domain of his guardian. Same procedure as the last times.>Other?Also->Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…>Your wife had been a font of progeny, and there was no reason to not continue to grow your already huge family. You haven’t heard the Judge ring a bell yet.
>>5966843>Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.Still think this entire plot by the girls is frankly insane (and criminal), but what's done is done.>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.As long as the first name is Vitelian.>Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…
>>5966841>The children didn’t need to know- but you refused to let Elena subsist on her own. You had to make sure she and her son were properly cared for. And she would find a husband, stat, no matter what she thought she deserved.>>5966843>Name your third son, and the domain of his guardian. Same procedure as the last times.>Your wife had been a font of progeny, and there was no reason to not continue to grow your already huge family. You haven’t heard the Judge ring a bell yet.
>>5966841Judgedamn, Elena, you need therapy.>The children didn’t need to know- but you refused to let Elena subsist on her own. You had to make sure she and her son were properly cared for. And she would find a husband, stat, no matter what she thought she deserved.>>5966843>Name your third son, and the domain of his guardian. Same procedure as the last times.Name him Malachi, I won't budge on this.>Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…Give yourself a break, woman.
>>5966843>There could be no agreement that you could sign off on. Benito was your son, and you would be his father. If Elena would rather leave than allow that, then you couldn’t stop her.>Name your third son, and the domain of his guardian. Same procedure as the last times.>Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…
>>5966841>Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.What exactly can we do here? I suppose we could help him in life covertly, as well as help Elena too. Still he should know who his father is, kids can get messed up if they don't.>>5966843>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.I'll agree with the other anon and let her, as long as it's Vitelian.>Your wife had been a font of progeny, and there was no reason to not continue to grow your already huge family. You haven’t heard the Judge ring a bell yet.
>>5966913>What exactly can we do here? I suppose we could help him in life covertly, as well as help Elena too. Still he should know who his father is, kids can get messed up if they don't.Hm, that's fair.>>5966843>>5966902Changing the first part of my vote to >Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.
>>5966843>Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.>Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…
>>5966841>Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.>>5966843>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.>Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…
>>5966843>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.I agree with at least something Vitelian>Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…Im losing track
>>5966851>>5966913>>5966916>>5966944>>5966950Whatever you wish- but he has to know from whence he came.>>5966873>>5966882Ignorance is bliss- being destitute in any way is not.>>5966851>>5966913>>5966944>>5966950>>5966970Let Yena take care of this one. As long as it isn't mosshead nonsense.>>5966873>>5966882>>5966902Name this one yourself. Something mountainfolkish perhaps.And all save one would rather say when on the pouring out kids deal. Understandable when it turns out there's another.I'll call it and write as soon as my special project has been pushed out.>>5966882>Judgedamn, Elena, you need therapy.Is Bonetto really one to talk on this front?
>>5966841>The children didn’t need to know- but you refused to let Elena subsist on her own. You had to make sure she and her son were properly cared for. And she would find a husband, stat, no matter what she thought she deserved.>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.>Your wife had been a font of progeny, and there was no reason to not continue to grow your already huge family. You haven’t heard the Judge ring a bell yet.
>>5966838>impudent little girl fury>>5966841>Elena could do what she wished with her child. But he had to know who his real father was.>Name your third son, and the domain of his guardian. Same procedure as the last times.It has to be Giuesppi. >Yena might have wanted more children, but you didn’t need more. You’d slow down, now. Already, you’d probably need to find a new house to properly accommodate you and the kids…
>>5967002One in one way,>>5967005One in the other.Writing. Also, I've embarked on my great April 1st Endeavor->>5967085Here's hoping the fool isn't me.
>>5967092>I've embarked on my great April 1st EndeavorAh. Looking forward to this one running for about 6 threads, give or take.
>>5966841>The children didn’t need to know- but you refused to let Elena subsist on her own. You had to make sure she and her son were properly cared for. And she would find a husband, stat, no matter what she thought she deserved.>>5966843>Let Yena decide this son’s name. She deserved to have a boy, as well.>Your wife had been a font of progeny, and there was no reason to not continue to grow your already huge family. You haven’t heard the Judge ring a bell yet.
Yena had been granted dominion over this son’s name- under condition that it be a Vitelian sounding one. You weren’t about to let any piece of your family slip under Trelan’s undercurrent of mountain culture. It would be some small compensation too, though, as you had told her that you intended to slow down on having children for a while. You were already not the best at keeping track of all the kids’ names, and the house was already cramped and in need of a replacement. After a break where your older children would have time to grow, then, maybe you could think about having a couple more.Yena had decided to name her new son after you- even though nobody but Yena actually called you Palmiro, you still had to do the same thing as when Yena named Ydela, and insist that your name be moved to his honored name. Instead, your new son’s first name would be…Giuseppe. Why that name? Apparently, Yena had heard it from Elena, talking about her husband. It was a name she liked the sound of.You hadn’t known Giuseppe Giarno very well back in your home village. Yet you couldn’t help but feel pity for him. How would he have reacted to all this fuss about him, so far away?It was a Vitelian name, though, and you had no objection besides not having to confuse yourself and a son when called for. His saint was given as Saint Noel, patron of Charity, for the latest in a long line of blessings of children.Your other child with another name courtesy of a long dead victim of war had something yet to be addressed with such ready compromises, however.The result of you and Elena’s heated negotiation over your son’s affairs was one delayed, set until somewhat later. You had deemed that what you’d be satisfied with was simple- Elena could do whatever she wished with Benito when it came to where his and her life intersected, raising him, whether or not she did find a husband, whatever- but in exchange for you not insisting on meddling any other was, Benito had to know the truth of his familial relations. That he was not an adopted orphan, or an orphan whatsoever. His true mother held him, and you were his true father.Not yet, she had argued. He was only five years old, he barely knew what it meant to have a biological father. When he was of age to understand, then she would tell him. Swear on her life. Elena never went back on any promise she finished with that. It would have to do.-----
The years went on. The year of 1923 came around and was halfway done before you realized- the most notable event being the final dashing of any hopes that the Grossreich would shatter and collapse. After years of the country being ruled by regency council, the new Kaiser, Henrik Von Zeissenburg, underwent his coronation ceremony and became Emperor of the teetering glass palace, even though it was not nearly in as much danger as it had been in the past years. A sigh of disappointment blew through the world- a new Kaiser, a new era of threat and imperialism.The boy was only sixteen years old, but was rumored to be incredibly precocious. There were those who sought to manipulate such a young ruler, but his ally of the former Regency Council helped him outmaneuver his political opposition, and even divest it of its riches and destroy it. His reign had not even started, and his association with Republicans and his preemptive action against supposed plotters using Imperial might had earned whispers that the Regency Council had corrupted the mind of the Kaiser, that he was a crypto-utopian. You’d have to see about that. Somehow, you doubted that such a thing could be the case, no matter if one of the peoples that the Reich had most damaged recently, were in fact its own.A new and unfamiliar source of stress appeared as Vittoria, caught up in the same fascination for the new armed elite as the rest of the country had after Trelan’s victory, had discovered that she was growing quite fond of the opposite sex.Vittoria seemed to trust and understand you and Yena when you explained human biology to her on a level that was considered unseemly to her before. The way children aged and grew in intellect, she had probably steadily figured out that her mother didn’t really grow children from within her as an independent result of love, especially as her younger brother Lorenzo’s reading ability was far above his age. At eleven years of age, he consumed encyclopedias, and sometimes he came to you and asked about hard passages in rather advanced books, that his normal education had no caught him up with when it came to linguistic necessities to even peruse them.Vittoria’s thirteenth birthday passed, and only a couple months later in July of 1923, despite being told of it, she came to you and her mother pale as a ghost, sweating and frightened because of “blood”. An inspection of her sleeping clothes confirmed there was nothing to worry about- your daughter was merely growing into a woman.
…That meant two things, though. You’d have to settle the question of whether you would be allowing Vittoria to see any boys romantically. She had friends, exclusively male ones, as she didn’t seem to get along with mountainfolk girls that she wasn’t directly related to. You remembered well your time at that age- Vittoria would surely be courted soon.>No boyfriends. You had to be firm on that. Especially not any green-hair locals. Vittoria would surely be commodified by the advisement of boys’ parents, seeking purebred descendants…>If you tried to impose on Vittoria’s life, she would defy you. You wouldn’t hold her back- merely try and advise her when something might be a bad idea, and trust her to learn well enough on her own…>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)>Other?It was a tumultuous time for that beyond the normal annoyances a father would have. Leo had been writing frequently recently. Telling news of Cesare’s steady recovery (he formed sentences and proper thoughts now, and was improving rapidly further still) and also, reassuringly, certain news of the rehabilitation of your image. Whoever wasn’t convinced that you should be allowed back in was…being taken care of. You could most likely return the next year.The thought of it was astounding, mystifying to think about. The thought of finally returning home, after your own near ten-year exile. Yet…was that something you wanted? Just the last year, you’d reinvested in a new home, one and a half times the size of the first and able to accommodate all children on top of guests. You were well paid still for your services in army advisement, would that same opportunity be available in Vitelia? Surely, yes? Or you could find something with Leo’s help? You wanted to return to the country you considered the true home of your whole family, but…there was no denying Trelan’s stability, its rising prosperity. Every problem with the northwest county was one you were well far away from. >Take the chance to come home as soon as you could. You’d been away from Vitelia for far, far too long.>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…>It was not time yet. You had too many children too young, your reserves of wealth not great enough. If you returned, it would be later.>Other?With Vittoria’s ascendance to young adulthood, there was but one particular matter. One of her heritage, one of local culture for pure-blood Nief’yem like her. The question of the Pilgrimage.
For Nief’yem, Pilgrimage didn’t actually refer to something like it might for people of your belief, those that followed the Cathedra, that would visit holy places and locations relevant to their guardian saint. The Pilgrimage of Nief’yem was one of enlightenment for connection with the world itself, as they journeyed from mountains to mountains, always on the move, until they had decided they had found their place in the world. Often, Yena told you, it only took a few months for youths to complete their first Pilgrimage, though such was not often their first.You remembered faintly the words of the mystic, that day years back. “If you wish to play the greatest part in her fate, then send her on pilgrimage when she is of age…or do not. That will speak the most for if she follows in your footsteps, whatever those may be, heh heh...”He had spoken in terms of her having rare talent…you couldn’t think of what he might be referring to. It sounded like crap, and Yena had told you that wandering mystics were not trustworthy types. Yet…yena also seemed to think that at least Vittoria’s first pilgrimage would be something important for her growth. While she would be alone amongst peers, the guides and acolytes that accompanied pilgrimages were universally trusted. There was no question that, should she go, Vittoria would be safe for the duration……But did you want her to go? To have any further connection with a heritage you felt was not her whole identity? Especially, should you trust the words of some masked mystic that wanted your signature, if such was the greatest part to play in her fate…?>Do not send Vittoria on pilgrimage. Her place was here with family, growing up as a normal daughter, not wandering for months in mountains and between God knows where without her parents.>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…>Other?
>>5967638>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)Someone her age? Maybe 3 years older max.>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…>>5967641>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…
>>5967638>If you tried to impose on Vittoria’s life, she would defy you. You wouldn’t hold her back- merely try and advise her when something might be a bad idea, and trust her to learn well enough on her own…The first one is just asking for trouble.>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…>>5967641>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…Well, it took longer to see magic than the main quest. Both in thread count and in-universe time.
>>5967638>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)Rich/influential parents. >It was not time yet. You had too many children too young, your reserves of wealth not great enough. If you returned, it would be later.>>5967641>Do not send Vittoria on pilgrimage. Her place was here with family, growing up as a normal daughter, not wandering for months in mountains and between God knows where without her parents.
>>5967641>If you tried to impose on Vittoria’s life, she would defy you. You wouldn’t hold her back- merely try and advise her when something might be a bad idea, and trust her to learn well enough on her own…>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…Feels like Bonetto's star won't rise any further in Trelan with the latest mess, but the job's still financially stable and subsidised.>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…
>>5967638>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)A Futurist boy, of course!>Take the chance to come home as soon as you could. You’d been away from Vitelia for far, far too long.>>5967641>Do not send Vittoria on pilgrimage. Her place was here with family, growing up as a normal daughter, not wandering for months in mountains and between God knows where without her parents.
>>5967641>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)As long as he's of good Vitelian stock.>>Take the chance to come home as soon as you could. You’d been away from Vitelia for far, far too long.Waste no time.>Do not send Vittoria on pilgrimage. Her place was here with family, growing up as a normal daughter, not wandering for months in mountains and between God knows where without her parents.
>>5967649>>5967641>support >such high standards only a true vitalian would be picked.Let her meet grandma/paPilgrimage to show that thr utopian dawn needed to be done.Qm how'd the fealinese do in their war? How are our investments doing? I'd like the chance to form a mercenary company of fellow utopian before we go home.
>>5967638>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)He must be willing to be a househusband, willing to leave Trelan, and treat our daughter as the treasure she is.>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…They SAY we can return safely, but we must confirm it before risking our family.>>5967641>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…
>>5967638>You would allow Vittoria to date- as long as she was supremely exacting. To your standards- woe to those who tested you who were unworthy. (What do you find worthy in an aspiring courter of your eldest?)Only good Vitelian boys>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…>>5967641>Do not send Vittoria on pilgrimage. Her place was here with family, growing up as a normal daughter, not wandering for months in mountains and between God knows where without her parents.
>>5967638>If you tried to impose on Vittoria’s life, she would defy you. You wouldn’t hold her back- merely try and advise her when something might be a bad idea, and trust her to learn well enough on her own…Stay away from eager cadets and military brats, don't put yourself through what your mother endured.>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…>>5967641>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…Climb some hills, see some goats
>>5967641>>If you tried to impose on Vittoria’s life, she would defy you. You wouldn’t hold her back- merely try and advise her when something might be a bad idea, and trust her to learn well enough on her own…>>Don’t move over home yet- but take your family to visit. Let the children finally meet their grandparents. They would remain in Trelan otherwise, while you scouted out to see if you should commit…>>Perhaps it would be the best thing for her. Did you want a daughter who was not world-wary? Besides, pilgrimages had their journeymen segregated during camp, and that would keep her away from any boys…
>>5967649>>5967656>>5967661>>5967702>>5967836>>5967929>>5968038Make sure anybody who tries can pass the dad test's strict conditions.>>5967650>>5967659>>5968137>>5968489Let her be free- be merely a guide.>>5967649>>5967650>>5967659>>5967929>>5968038>>5968137>>5968489Dip your feet in- the others should remain rooted.>>5967656You must gather your strength.>>5967661>>5967702Hurry back- home is calling.>>5967649>>5967650>>5967659>>5967836>>5967929>>5968137>>5968489Send your girl to the mountains.>>5967656>>5967661>>5967702>>5968038Keep your eldest at your side.Updating. After a day of near complete inactivity, but alas, my industry declines without a lengthy nap sometimes...>>5967836>How'd the fealinese do in their war? The Fealinnese, by any measure, did fantastically. Though this wouldn't seem too impressive to a person with experience in conflict observation. The Pohja countries were inexperienced and unprepared, after all, trying to make opportunistic territorial gains against new countries that, while briefly instable, had the benefit of military experience, solid army structure, and procurement lines of newer and newer equipment on top of what was inherited from the Reich. For all intents and purposes, they tried to strike at stronger opponents in a moment of weakness and misgauged how fast they would recover and how hard they would strike back.>How are our investments doing? I'd like the chance to form a mercenary company of fellow utopians before we go home.The focus hasn't been on exactly what's been happening with investments, but Bonetto is definitely decently wealthy, though not notably so. If desired, I can make it a vote as far as utilizing money goes- since you don't have enough to do everything. A choice will have to be involved, as for example, making a mercenary company, is not something cheaply done if you want it to be any good let alone sizeable.
>>5968611Are the Trelani getting new tonks any time soon-ish? That might be a nice vote to have before we leave for good.
Would sending Vittoria on a pilgrimage into the world set her to follow in your footsteps? You had to leave your own home to become nearly what you were now, but you had waited until you were older than Vittoria would be when she went out in merely a year, Pilgrimage being done at the age of fourteen at youngest. Maybe it’d be for the best, for her to become world-wary in a safe way, to learn the true size of the world, and the true meaning of your aspirations for the future, right when she would be of proper age to be educated about it. Better that than learning the hard way. It would please Yena, as well, though you wondered about any of your other children doing the same thing. It wasn’t like the mystic mentioned any of them.Maybe you needed to stop listening to crabs. For all you knew, under all that drapery and cloth, that mystic might have been a huge, scheming land crustacean. In the meantime, though, if…sod it, when Vittoria came to you asking for approval of a relation, with a boy in tow, you would have to protect her to some degree. She could date, but you’d only accept boys who passed a baseline of quality. Being of Vitelian descent, being of wealthy or powerful families, being of Revolutionary inclination, of similar age, not domineering over your daughter…only reasonable demands. Definitely not any soldiers. Never mind that Vittoria wasn’t yet old enough to be drawing in anybody but the youngest recruits (and even that would be a questionable man), on some level, you didn’t want to make her go through what you had put your wife through. The degree that you had upended Yena’s life in…everything, made you ever warier of letting a man in uniform close enough to even comment on the weather to her.It would matter, that both her and you would need to be selective. Even if Leo’s claims were correct, and that you’d be safe, you weren’t about to move your whole, large family over before knowing for certain yourself exactly what the situation was. Even if you’d been away from Vitelia for around a decade since the Gilician conflict ended in ruin for certain parties, grudges could last a long time, and you weren’t going to stroll in counting on the most devious and dark hearted individuals in the country to let bygones be bygones. Vittoria would therefore be spending her adolescence in Trelan.
Should you be worried about Lorenzo, too? No, not particularly. He was a quieter and meeker boy in contrast to Vittoria’s energetic tomboy nature, and you doubted he would fool around with girls even if he was encouraged. It meant less stress for his father and mother, to know that he would likely not get involved in romantic misadventures until he was thoroughly learned and mature.Your plans for that part of the future solid, though not round the corner, you had to consider what there was left to do in the Republic of Trelan before you left. Likely for good. The most basic thing was what to do with all the money in the national bank of the republic. Your assets hadn’t skyrocketed, but a combination of incentive collecting, tax exemption, and the lack of effect on your account from anything except the necessities of family care had meant you were quite comfortably in the money.That money would not stay here when you pulled out of this place, not in the same form it was now, so if you were going to do anything big with it, the time was now.As hooked into the arms industry as you were by necessity, you were well apprised of developments and needs, before some solutions had even been demanded, let alone invented. The Twentieth Century Commissions’ most drastic reforms took place some years ago at this point, and there had been a war and lingering occupation since. There was room to put your weight behind the formation of a design bureau, to create a weapon for new procurement. Trelan had some experience with making and maintaining newer equipment beyond just purchasing it now, and you had heard of innovations being born the world over- and inventors hungry for backers. You couldn’t lean on your connections to favor buying such a thing as a favor now, but in the first place, you’d never tried to profit from such shell games anyways. Regardless, it did mean that if you went this route, you’d be rolling the dice.Official military materiel procurements were but one way of profiting off the current state of affairs. Trelan had shuffled off its primary population from the burden of handling its affairs in occupied Holherezh, which had turned into supporting its current puppets through the use of conscripted Trelani Pohja and elevated officers of that ethnic group, but manpower was ever in demand for both necessary riskier operations and completely pedestrian security over the wide swathe of territory. A perfect opportunity for mercenaries to be used, whose welfare was no priority of the state, unlike even the looked-down upon Pohja. All you would need was to draw in the right people- and since you wouldn’t be doing things yourself anymore, at least, not if you wanted to keep your wife happy, you’d need a suitable leader from somewhere too, ideally some idealistic and highly skilled adventurer in it for the thrill rather than the high-risk paycheck.
The last interaction you’d had with an impressive adventurer, it had been Heller Von Tracht lamenting that he had never gotten the chance to warm his manhood in a heavy Holherezhi heifer’s bosom before he departed for home. With the continued skirmishes and insurgency in occupied Holherezh, one might presume he’d be an easy sell, but in spite of such vocalized dirty aspirations, you doubted that such a temptation alone would prove convincing enough to draw him back. Even if you had a reliable way to send for him, which you certainly did not, not from the edge of the continent here. You’d have to find others to sponsor, or to seek out new champions.A final reasonable option was simply to keep sitting atop your hoard of money. There’d be no shortage of smaller things to save for, that would not deplete it quickly. University education for the children, dowries if needed, loans to grant your descendants to help them strike out into the world, things not so easy to plan precisely for but definitely out of reach if you overspent in a particular investment whose liquid value was not easy to pull out right away. Besides, you’d never know if an emergency might be just around the corner…especially since you would soon return to Vitelia to find out a thousand things you couldn’t have noticed without being inside your homeland yourself.>The time was ripe for new technology, and new revolutions in war. Who knew? Perhaps you could bring forth something that would aid you in the future in Vitelia…>Even if your fighting days were over, your days of gathering fighting men didn’t have to be. For now, they could make a profit, but in the future, who knew? Maybe the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors.>No need to risk all your hard-earned money on risky ventures. Let it keep. Who could say what you’d need it for years from now?>Other?>>5969075That may be up to you, though Trelan's traditional rivals haven't demanded such, perhaps new ones might...
>>5969108>No need to risk all your hard-earned money on risky ventures. Let it keep. Who could say what you’d need it for years from now?Raising six (five, once Vittoria goes on pilgrimage) kids without subsidies and taking a pay cut is probably going to cost quite a bit once we go home, especially if Bonetto wants to live in the city.Also as pointed out there might be things happening in Vitelia itself that'll require cash reserves for...
>>5969108>>Even if your fighting days were over, your days of gathering fighting men didn’t have to be. For now, they could make a profit, but in the future, who knew? Maybe the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors.Profitable mercs, you say?
>>5969108>No need to risk all your hard-earned money on risky ventures. Let it keep. Who could say what you’d need it for years from now?
>>5969108>The time was ripe for new technology, and new revolutions in war. Who knew? Perhaps you could bring forth something that would aid you in the future in Vitelia…
>>5969108>The time was ripe for new technology, and new revolutions in war. Who knew? Perhaps you could bring forth something that would aid you in the future in Vitelia…Nerve gas my beloved. >Other?Play the 4chan April Fool's Stock game with our fortune.
>>5969108>>No need to risk all your hard-earned money on risky ventures. Let it keep. Who could say what you’d need it for years from now?
>>5969108>Even if your fighting days were over, your days of gathering fighting men didn’t have to be. For now, they could make a profit, but in the future, who knew? Maybe the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors.
>>5969108>Even if your fighting days were over, your days of gathering fighting men didn’t have to be. For now, they could make a profit, but in the future, who knew? Maybe the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors.Time to make an army and profit off of it. Then we can go to vitalia in style.
>>5969108>Even if your fighting days were over, your days of gathering fighting men didn’t have to be. For now, they could make a profit, but in the future, who knew? Maybe the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors.Since I don't think I've voted yet, I'll go with this. I would've liked investing in technology more, but this is better than letting it gather dust.How did I fuck up so bad?
>>5969108>Even if your fighting days were over, your days of gathering fighting men didn’t have to be. For now, they could make a profit, but in the future, who knew? Maybe the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors.Time to make more money.
>>5969110>>5969148>>5969171>>5969463>>5969523Keep saving.>>5969112>>5969190>>5969197>>5969366>>5969611>>5969673>>5969677Forever in need of command. From far off this time, though.>>5969117>>5969147Investments in the future.Updating.
Perhaps your fighting days had come to and end. Not from injury or weakness, for certain, as you continued to keep up your regimen, kept your muscles strong and your sparring up, even if you would be thirty eight years old this year, and you were most certainly past your prime, used up in the Auratus War and Gilicia. Yet that didn’t mean your days of gathering fighting men to a cause were over. There was an opportunity to be made in the short term, providing necessary services to the Trelani Republic’s occupation, regardless of whether it was just safekeeping of land and people or imperialesque conquest. In the short term, the demand was there, but in the long term…a cadre of hardened fighting men could be quite useful. Perhaps the Revolution to come would have need of such rootless warriors, utterly detached from the establishments that would cast the darken the dawn with a pitiless eclipse.It was a gamble to be true, but you’d taken harsher ones before and come out alive. So too would you come out of this better, considering the stakes were so generous. These people would not be tested in the crucible of real and brutal warfare, but dull counterinsurgency. A whetstone to keep them sharp, and a fire to temper untested steel.Though as you went through research and contacts in your off time, you learned the limits of what you’d be able to put together. Your assets simply weren’t enough to equip more than a relatively small force, even if that was still saying something about your money. A loan from the Trelani bank would be easy to get, and should your venture pay off, easy to repay. That arranged (business loans were far less oppressive than personal loans, after all), you could begin to look at your options.The most expensive part of starting this operation wouldn’t actually be the weapons, but the facilities, command equipment, and skilled manpower. The inferior quality of weaponry of the insurgents meant that superior equipment wasn’t likely to be needed anyways, if you wanted to pinch pennies, but setting a standard never hurt. Of course, this starting point would have to be simple. Infantrymen and little more. A tank force would be inefficient for their first taskings, after all.A core of staff was non-negotiable, of course. Fighting men could be conscripted from near anywhere, but paper pushers and typists were necessary to even get them organized and attendant to fighting. No expense could be cut on the paymasters and provisioners. Which left the real choice that of fighting folk.The more skilled the fighter, the more they could demand in pay, but you had an edge over the Republican Army in one aspect- you could certainly pay mercenaries more than they could pay soldiers, relatively, and you didn’t need to nearly as picky as they were concerning nationality and political leanings.
The last point was even a preferable point, possibly, as utopian sympathies since the Emrean Liberation had been a sign to many of whom to avoid, considering the vast power the Revolutionary Army had in Emre, before its precipitous and incredibly unfortunate fall from grace.Even if your force had to be small, there were degrees of small. The greater the size, naturally, the more costs from each part would balloon. Yet you had to have a uniform force on some level- some might have and have not, but there would be no “elite,” not yet, not unless the whole formation was so.>You have 7 Investment Points, a rough approximation of personal liquid assets and loans taken to facilitate this endeavor. Having spare points left over will not give any effects, for simplicity’s sake.Equipment- Each choice outfits a singular unit of Personnel, forty men.>1 Point- Basic Equipment. Rifles, handguns, uniforms and bare essentials. Only what was needed.>2 Points- Advanced Equipment. Submachineguns, Light Machine Guns, Communications Equipment, Personal Protection. A step above common soldiery.Personnel- Each choice is made up of forty men. They make up an individual unit.>1 Point- There were men all over the place willing to be mercenaries. They’d have to be trained, but they would be easy to buy over.>2 Points- You could only go for proven soldiery. Experienced men, with military or combat experience of some kind.>3 Points- A unit of picked men. They would have to pass your exacting standards for skill and valor, and mental acuity. There wouldn’t be many men like this, and less that would be willing to fight for pay…Standards- These apply to the whole company, and thus either add or subtract cost in total. Must pick one.>+1 Point- Anybody, from Anywhere. There was no room to be choosy, even if you got some bad apples in the group. These were to be mercenaries, not a charity organization. They’d be nasty no matter what.>-1 Point- Utopian Legion. Ideologically pure, extra steps would be taken to import people of leftist inclination from the world over, but primarily Emre and Vitelia. A true collection of comrades.>-1 Point- Stout Hearts. Extra screening to pick out those of good morals and upright character. This should lead to a significant reduction of potential controversy- and perhaps, even fame for the unit.Specialist Investments->1 Point- Mobile Headquarters- A forward thinking tactical innovation to maximize coordination between command and the frontline. Includes motor support for rapid transportation, and ambulance capability.>2 Points- Heavy Support- Armored Cars and Light Support Artillery, mortars and heavy machine guns, and the support to maintain them. Suffice it to say, this is a great increase in power, so long as the support has enough in front of it to…support.-----Other investments or conditions and their costs can be written in for approval, but I’ll have to approve them.
>>5969938>2 Points- Advanced Equipment. Submachineguns, Light Machine Guns, Communications Equipment, Personal Protection. A step above common soldiery.>2 Points- You could only go for proven soldiery. Experienced men, with military or combat experience of some kind.>-1 Point- Utopian Legion. Ideologically pure, extra steps would be taken to import people of leftist inclination from the world over, but primarily Emre and Vitelia. A true collection of comrades.>2 Points- Heavy Support- Armored Cars and Light Support Artillery, mortars and heavy machine guns, and the support to maintain them. Suffice it to say, this is a great increase in power, so long as the support has enough in front of it to…support.
>>5969938One Platoon of experienced guys>2 Points- Advanced Equipment. Submachineguns, Light Machine Guns, Communications Equipment, Personal Protection. A step above common soldiery.>2 Points- You could only go for proven soldiery. Experienced men, with military or combat experience of some kind.One of recruits>1 Point- Basic Equipment. Rifles, handguns, uniforms and bare essentials. Only what was needed.>1 Point- There were men all over the place willing to be mercenaries. They’d have to be trained, but they would be easy to buy over.And all true believers >-1 Point- Utopian Legion. Ideologically pure, extra steps would be taken to import people of leftist inclination from the world over, but primarily Emre and Vitelia. A true collection of comrades.
>>5969938>2 Points- Advanced Equipment. Submachineguns, Light Machine Guns, Communications Equipment, Personal Protection. A step above common soldiery.>2 Points- You could only go for proven soldiery. Experienced men, with military or combat experience of some kind.>+1 Point- Anybody, from Anywhere. There was no room to be choosy, even if you got some bad apples in the group. These were to be mercenaries, not a charity organization. They’d be nasty no matter what.>2 Points- Heavy Support- Armored Cars and Light Support Artillery, mortars and heavy machine guns, and the support to maintain them. Suffice it to say, this is a great increase in power, so long as the support has enough in front of it to…support.
>>5969938>x3 Basic Equipment>x3 1 Point Personnel>1 Point Utopian Legion
>>5969938>>5969946This, but also add 2 Points in Mobile Headquarters for both Platoons. It should add up to exactly 7.Might do good for the more experienced military men to teach the greens.
>>5970034As I understand it, -1 Point for the Standards part means it costs a point, not that we get an additional one.
>>5970034Your math is wrong you're at 9 with the armored support.
>>5970093My mistake I thought it was a negative.>>5970121I wasn't voting for Armored Support, I was voting for two Mobile Headquarters with the assumption that it would be enough to support the two Platoons.
>>5969938One Platoon of experienced guys>2 Points- Advanced Equipment. Submachineguns, Light Machine Guns, Communications Equipment, Personal Protection. A step above common soldiery.>2 Points- You could only go for proven soldiery. Experienced men, with military or combat experience of some kind.One of recruits>1 Point- Basic Equipment. Rifles, handguns, uniforms and bare essentials. Only what was needed.>1 Point- There were men all over the place willing to be mercenaries. They’d have to be trained, but they would be easy to buy over.>-1 Point- Stout Hearts. Extra screening to pick out those of good morals and upright character. This should lead to a significant reduction of potential controversy- and perhaps, even fame for the unit.We can indoctrinate our forces to be utopian. We can't really make them have good moral character.Goal is to have storm troopers. And then regular infantry to hold the line. I'm hoping with the stout of heart we can become semi famous mercenary company and we'll get more recruits and more jobs for more money.Qm as we do our work can we loot the counter insurgency? That'd get us more weapons and Equipment. Eventually it would be nice to have armored support though. Also is that pirate stuff still going on? Can we do personal protection stuff for the rich too?
>>5969938>>5969943+1
>>5970124>I was voting for two Mobile Headquarters with the assumption that it would be enough to support the two Platoons.There's no need to get two of them- a singular mobile headquarters is enough to fulfill the needs of an entire unit of your company's size for a while.>>5970125>Qm as we do our work can we loot the counter insurgency? That'd get us more weapons and Equipment. I'm presuming you mean the equipment of the insurgents themselves, but they don't really have anything worth taking to use as more than a souvenir. >Eventually it would be nice to have armored support though. Also is that pirate stuff still going on? Can we do personal protection stuff for the rich too?The piracy has gone far down as a result of Wezkatinbach getting their teeth kicked in, having to watch their land borders much more attentively, and an agreement with Trelan to stop messing around in the water so that Ohtician volunteers can cross the cold seas. As far as individual contracts go, this is something that's mostly going to run itself so you shouldn't really have to worry about it considering what there is left to do, but by nature the chance of getting protection details would increase with prestige.
>>5970168How big is a 'normal' mercenary outfit for Sosaldt standards that isn't a mini-army with a state like the Hogs/Death Heads/Twice-Damned? Battalion-sized?
>>5969938>2 units of Utopian Legionwith basic training and equipment>Mobile HQ
>>5970171>How big is a 'normal' mercenary outfit for Sosaldt standards that isn't a mini-army with a state like the Hogs/Death Heads/Twice-Damned? Battalion-sized?Sosaldt is a bit of a particular beast, hence why their bands are usually called "brigand-mercenaries" or gangs, or the like. They tend to have control over at least a village or a town if not a few of them in alliance, whether they've taken it over or are serving as its defense or pursuer of interests (in 1933, of course, this had changed completely, but this is 1923 right now), but they still tend to work for hire if interested regardless, in which case they're usually about the size of a company, from fifty to a few hundred fighters, depending on what their settlements support or how many they've drawn to themselves. These tend to band together into greater coalitions, however, when it comes to big contracts or large interests. In which case their combined numbers and equipment possession definitely balloon to previously (well, to be?) encountered standards.
>>5970209To put this more concisely, anybody who's big enough to be worth attention will have at least a battalion or so, yes, but oftentimes they don't all come from the same place unless it's a sizable settlement.
>>5970181You have 1 point left over for that build, so either veterans or better equipment for one platoon
>>5970224I understood it like the standards modify the cost per unit.
Just to clarify I still support this >>5969946A shame we don't have enough for the Mobile Headquarters, it sounds like it would have good synergy with Advanced/Communications Equipment.>>5970168I see, thank you for clarifying QM.
>>5969943>>5970127One of well equipped veterans. One of supporters to such. All facing towards the Dawn.>>5969946>>5970682One of the above and beyond, one of plain recruits. Also Dawnwards.>>5969948As the abovemost, but with a spare point..?>>5969999A whole hecatoncheir of Revolutionary hands.>>5970125As the top, but stout of heart rather than fiery of spirit.>>5970181Two basic boys and a mobile HQ. A point left over.Yes, the origin only applies once to the whole thing.I'll let it open a wee bit longer, considering the tieups, but if need be I'll call it based off of tally totals.
>>5969946Supporting this
>>5970883Then I'll change to support >>5970125
>>5969938>>5970127Don't know if my ID changed but I'll support >>5969946 insteadThough I still feel like it would be better as mercenaries to specialise more with support and/or mobility, it's not a terrible thing. Maybe if this is profitable enough we can upgrade.
>>5970883Alright, so->>5970952>>5971127Two for one of each.>>5970975I dunno what you changed from.Anyways, seems to be decided, writing.
The company would be balanced- eighty fighting men, not counting staff or leadership, one part well blooded veterans equipped with the best money could buy, and the other part fresh recruits, equipped with only the basics. The example of the better troops would readily rub off on the newcomers was the thinking, as extra effort was gone to in ensuring everybody had the same beliefs, the same general alignment. That of the Revolution, and the Dawn to come. This did mean that rather few came from nearby, but so long as they could speak Vitelian or something adjacent, and could agree on Utopian principle, where they came from was no problem at all.You reminisced wistfully of the long-dead Futurist Club, gathering these people together. Would they be your friends in Utopianism, as you had in old days? No. That wouldn’t be happening, you weren’t going to operate with them, or even lead them, as you were little more than the patron and at best higher contract authorizer, the owner of the group, trainer, perhaps. You weren’t any less busy than you’d ever been, with six children and a job, even if it was an advisory and consulting sort. A scant few had come who claimed they knew you before, but they were never personal relations, merely men who were part of a mass you had commanded before sometime in the past, a fragment of a multitude too many for you to remember individual soldiers.In total, this new mercenary group would have one hundred and twelve members, a small company but a good start. Plenty able to serve in the numerous drudgeries that Trelan was demanding now, that it ill wished to waste its best fighting men upon despite the relative lack of risk. Most of the company was made up of Emreans and Vitelians, a decidedly foreign mob with the odd Imperial exile or local. In the coming days, they’d get acquainted with one another, with their equipment, and hopefully, they’d bond over your shared goal and identity enough to be more than a mere band of sellswords…All that was left for you to do in the short term was arguably your most important decision that wasn’t mere procurement- the name of this small core, that might grow into a legion with time, as well as the appointment of its overall leadership, the man who would only answer to you.He’d be an experienced fighter and leader, of course, which there was no small share of with the investment you’d made towards having a core of veterans. Even if they might not have been the best in Velekam, they’d know what they were doing, and perhaps improve even more with the rigors of command.
One man who seemed well suited was a former Black Coat, one of yours. An Imperial who had moved over from Gilicia, who had been in this country before on the last expedition, and had scars from each time he had fought. His name was Jeno Schwarzehand, and he was supposedly tossed out with the Forlorn due to his Utopian leanings, but nobody was shy about mentioning his fervent love of young women. Inappropriately young, considering that he was as old as you, and in spite of his combat experience and having risen from a mere rifleman to a senior enlisted position while in Gilician service, that he was so weak at the knees for women half his age may have been a poor portent. Something the years of peace hadn’t seemed to polish out of him.Another man was a fellow Vitelian, a sea man called Donomo Alga. He had been too young for the Auratus War, but had joined the Vitelian Royal Army for the Gilician Conflict, and was much soured by the experience, later ending up in one of Leo’s Vitelian Future Leagues. Yet he was here, instead of in Vitelia…murmuring something about how he didn’t like the way things seemed to be going, concerning working with elements of government instead of a grand uprising like he dreamed of. Consoling himself with foreign service, you noticed that even if Donomo had a fiery passion for the future, he was a soft and compromising fellow. Was he truly fit for mercenary leadership, you had to think, as even though he was talented, he seemed to lack the hard edge a leader of fighting men needed in order to make proper decisions, to not risk certain things for the sake of his conscience. Being moral was one thing- being self-effacing was another, when lives were in your hands.Finally, there was an Emrean. Nolan Dulechamp was an unusual specimen of a man, not even thirty years old but incredibly precocious, he had studied long and hard in universities, graduated with honors in two of Couronne Arc-En-Ciel’s prestigious philosophical halls, and then proceeded for some mad reason to volunteer to fight the ongoing war against the Imperial world’s remnants alongside Felbach’s troops. Apparently he saw the Pohja northwest as an Imperial structure to be dismantled, a not-uncommon view with the Emreans at least. The Felbachr war had ended, and when he tried to forward his radical Utopian views, he found that his former comrades were less enthusiastic about Utopianism than he cared for. So now he was here- for a Utopian cause, even if it was one for hire. Quick thinking and intelligent, Nolan had one particular flaw- he was excessively brash, and was astonished whenever others did not share his energy. A brave and heroic energy, but not a temperament ideal for a commanding officer, perhaps…
None of these men were perfect, but they were the best you had, and would certainly do well enough in occupied Holherezh. What would be demanded of them and the men was undoubtedly beneath them, but they could do it well without question, and there was naught to be concerned about there. Only what might come after, in a conflict you couldn’t predict.>The Name, and its Colors (Emblem and Such)->Write this sucker in. If you don’t feel like you know the culture well enough to make references you want, then just the idea of it to be translated is fine.>The Company Captain->Jeno Schwarzehand, the War-Wise Womanizer>Donomo Alga, the Futurist Devout>Nolan Dulechamp, the Emrean WunderkindAs you pored over the final details and dossiers after work one day, in the waning of the afternoon just outside your house, your eldest daughter wanted your attention.“Are you busy, Papa?” Vittoria asked, “Mom said not to bother you until you came back in, but…”“Nonsense,” you said, folding your papers and tucking them into your belt, “My Vi can always talk to me.”Vittoria had gone through another growth spurt, and was just about as tall as her mother, now. If she followed your height, she still had some more to go, and even though she had kept her hair short and to the neck, she wouldn’t be able to be mistaken for a boy for much longer, if at all. “Mom was talking to me about that thing. The Pilgrimage.”“It’ll be good for you,” you said, “It will make you strong, and wiser than normal schooling.” School wasn’t in session right now, and Pilgrimages tended to cause at least a little bit of missed education, but was started in summer often anyways to take advantage of the space, even if in old times it was because of the gap in the planting and harvest when the help of the whole family wasn’t needed so much on farms, amongst other reasons that were not merely early national labor policy. “It isn’t until next year, you don’t have to worry about it right now.”“I know,” Vittoria said, “I want to go on it. But I feel like…like I’m ready for other things, too.”You raised an eyebrow. “Did you find a boyfriend already?”Your daughter blushed red and puffed up her cheeks. “No! Not yet, Papa! God…” She crossed her arms and sulked, “Not until certain people stop fighting over…never mind.”“So what was it, then?” Not particularly interested in what Vittoria’s friends were doing to earn her disapproval, unless she wanted to ask you what she should do about it. “Why do you want to ask about it here,” you glanced around, “Without anybody else in the family here?”“Mom wouldn’t like it,” Vittoria looked skyward with a pout, crossing her arms tightly, “Papa, I’ve heard a lot about you, you know. How you’re a warrior. How you fought for the future, how you were one of the best…”
“Who’d you hear that from?” You had to ask.“From Padrino.”Ah. Leo was flattering you to your daughter again, was he. “He’s one to talk. So, go on, then.”“I wanna learn how,” Vittoria said firmly, uncrossing her arms, “I wanna learn to fight like a soldier. I want to fight, not yet, but when I grow up, I want to be like you. I’m old enough to learn, Papa, won’t you teach me, please?”Your eldest daughter hit you in a soft spot, with this proposal, and it wouldn’t be possible to deny her. Yet, Yena absolutely would disagree with this aspiration, especially while Vittoria was only just now a teenager. Yet she wasn’t in rebellion against you like you’d heard children liked to start doing this age, and even though Vittoria had a history of brawling with other children, you’d never actually enabled that. She was calmer now, still hotheaded but after she got to the newest school she wasn’t getting into fights nearly as often.Perhaps, you could foster another kind of fighting, though. A more intelligent way of fighting. You still had free access to the Trelani motor pools, its tanks. Vittoria was a woman, and would never be as physically strong as you or any male combatant in adulthood. Yet, that was not true where controlling a machine was involved. Perhaps, the tank could become a family tradition...?On the other hand, you had hardly started out adulthood as a soldier, nor had planned to. You had spent your early adult manhood in the Azure Halls, learning of history, of philosophy. If Vittoria wanted to be alike to you, then wouldn’t it be for the best to focus on philosophical guidance? She wasn’t of the contemplative listening sort like her brother, but if you told it to her the right way, motivated her, then she would listen as eagerly as any other topic. She did have a sense for when she was being taught something important, after all, no fool was your daughter. She certainly wouldn’t be learning about Vitelian Futurism from any Trelani school, that was for sure.>Do as your daughter wishes, and teach her to fight like you. It would serve her best in life, and when one was weaker, it was even more important to know how to fight, wasn’t it?>If Vittoria wanted to be a soldier, you had the best recommendation to make to her. To fight as would be done in the future, not like the past. Show her the tanks, and instruct her in them.>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.>Other?
>>5971365>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.>>5971364>The Name, and its Colors (Emblem and Such)-Rising Sun. Like a dawn, eh? Eh? Colors dark blue and pink. Captain - Alga.
>>5971364>Name: Aurora Legion>Colours: A red sunburst rising from the horizon of the green earth with golden skies >Nolan Dulechamp, the Emrean Wunderkind>OtherWhat about planes? Very futuristic, also something not purely militaristic in nature that would piss off Yena. I want a Linda-Vittoria dogfight when the Big One comes along, sue me If not possible then:>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.We have Signy at home guys
>>5971364>The Name, and its Colors (Emblem and Such)->Let the colors be reminiscent/influenced by Utopian and Vitelian ones. Perhaps some symbols representing something akin to a proto-RAGV, or just a proto-Republican Army in general.I'll leave the naming to the other anons.>The Company Captain->>Donomo Alga, the Futurist DevoutA good Vitelian. But we should see if we can make him be less cautious.>>5971365>Do as your daughter wishes, and teach her to fight like you. It would serve her best in life, and when one was weaker, it was even more important to know how to fight, wasn’t it?>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.A mix of these. World is a dangerous place, especially for the politically radical. Though I wouldn't mind just teaching her about Futurism if it comes to a tie.
>>5971364>>5971382This seems like a good name.>>5971365>Do as your daughter wishes, and teach her to fight like you. It would serve her best in life, and when one was weaker, it was even more important to know how to fight, wasn’t it?
>>5971365Supporting >>5971382
>>5971365>If Vittoria wanted to be a soldier, you had the best recommendation to make to her. To fight as would be done in the future, not like the past. Show her the tanks, and instruct her in them.>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.As long as we make her a good Utopianist.>>5971364>>5971386Supporting this for the emblem/symbols/colors, and making Donomo Alga the captain.As for the name call it the Aurora Borealis Legion.
>>5971365>>5971513Actually I'll change the part with Vittoria to>Do as your daughter wishes, and teach her to fight like you. It would serve her best in life, and when one was weaker, it was even more important to know how to fight, wasn’t it?>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.
>>5971382>>5971504Adding to this, I'd like if the solar emblem were stylised and angular like a Gerardo Dottori painting. You know, the other futurism
>>5971382To add on to the Emblem suggestions, personally I was thinking of something like this in mind as the base, with some additional flourishes like >>5971386 posted. Though tanq if you could somehow incorporate the style of the sun >>5971537 posted it'd be interesting as well
>>5971386>Support.>Try to push into new technology though. Like tanks or airplanes.Everyone should know how to fight and shoot. But I'd prefer her to learn how to fly or use a tank.
>>5971365Name and Colours Supporting >>5971382Company Captain>Alga as commander, Dulechamp as his second, Schwarzehand as one of the platoon commanders.With opposite temperaments maybe they can balance each other out. Vittoria>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.
>>5971365>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.> Teach her how to defend herself in physical confrontation, and what a good exercise routine looks like. She'll never be as strong as a man could be, but it is better to receive training than none. Then show her machines. Planes, tanks, beautiful beasts of mechanical steel designed to kill.>For the role of Captain give it to Donomo Alga, although his compromising is a bit disappointing.The Back Coat might be the best in tactics and war, but he will stain the name of the Company and might not be trustworthy otherwise. The Emeran could be a good pick, but the romanticist idea of 'brash attacking' isn't necessarily a good strategy for mercenaries, maybe we could make him a deputy like the other anon suggested?I will support this >>5971537 for the emblem style, with Utopian-influenced colors. Call it the Aurora Legion, it's a good name.I'm not sure this will be my final vote. But I tried to mix up what people were suggesting here, with an emphasis on teaching her about how Bonetto sees Utopian-Futurism.
Daughter business->>5971378>>5971842Pass on the knowledge that drives you.>>5971382>>5971504>>5971677Set to the sky.While the intent was more teaching Vittoria what you know, and you don't know how to fly, there's not any reason to not push her into a plane. Not out of one. Who would jump out of a plane?>>5971386>>5971517>>5972319Mixed education.>>5971402Focus on the fighting.Business business->>5971378>>5971386>>5971513>>5971842>>5972319Alga>>5971382>>5971504DulechampCommand hierarchy possibilities noted- indeed, the company is divisible into two underneath the head by nature, so it's the reasonable thing to do.Name->>5971378Rising Sun>>5971382>>5971402>>5971504>>5971513>>5971842>>5972319Aurora LegionAs far as colors go, summarizing the workshopping is a bit much for me right now, sort of wiped from the wake up.I'm tired and woke up late, no update tonight.However, since I'm being a sloth today anyways, if you want to pick uniform colors, you can, though something beyond "single color with accents" is what you can do off the bat, it's not camo hours yet.
>>5972337>However, since I'm being a sloth today anyway, if you want to pick uniform colours, you can, though something beyond "single colour with accents" is what you can do off the bat, it's not camo hours yet.Tbh I dig the existing Vitelian uniform colours as seen in the OP picture, so I think that's fine, with the addition of some other minor touches to display their separate status from the (future) regular Revolutionary Army.Some suggestions in no particular order:-collar/gorget insignia-armband with the unit colours instead of the normal red-gold-using the unit insignia on the arm and cap badges like the Lances do instead of the regular one-maybe unique headwear like the Alpini or Bersaglieri, (or they can be the first Vitelian military unit to adopt berets lol)The other one would be whatever the Emreans are using, since they're likely to form the next largest contingent in the Legion, and probably where most of our equipment is being sourced from (my assumption anyway).
>>5972377>-collar/gorget insignia>-armband with the unit colours instead of the normal red-gold>-using the unit insignia on the arm and cap badges like the Lances do instead of the regular one>-maybe unique headwear like the Alpini or Bersaglieri, (or they can be the first Vitelian military unit to adopt berets lol)These are good suggestions, I'll support it.
>>5971365>If Vittoria wanted to be a soldier, you had the best recommendation to make to her. To fight as would be done in the future, not like the past. Show her the tanks, and instruct her in them.>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.Fly high
>>5972337Are our guys expected to operate independently for this contract, or are the Trelani going to combine a bunch of merc groups together to form larger units?
>>5971365>Do as your daughter wishes, and teach her to fight like you. It would serve her best in life, and when one was weaker, it was even more important to know how to fight, wasn’t it?>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.Flying may sound kino, but I'd rather focus on teaching her things we know about rather than things we don't. Besides she's going on a pilgrimage, she might need to know about fighting and Utopianism.
>>5972337>uniform colorsVitelian colors sound good.In appearance maybe a bit merc-like casual uniforms? Although armbands and berets sound like fun lmao
>>5971365>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.But if there's a tie I'm fine with mixed education.
>>5972377And I like these uniform suggestions.
>>5972859>merc-like casual uniformsLike Congo mercs in the 60s? Or more contemporary?
>>5972873Sort of. More in the style of what mercs used to look like. QM specified no camo was possible.
>>5972676>Are our guys expected to operate independently for this contract, or are the Trelani going to combine a bunch of merc groups together to form larger units?They're subordinated to regional governances, so relatively independently, depending on the area and activity.It's not something you have to worry about. Not in a command position, not enough prologue time to go into a new pseudo-arc anyways.
>>5971365>The Company Captain>Donomo Alga, the Futurist Devout>You were a Futurist, and thusly so would your lineage. If you failed to bring forth the dawn…then your eldest daughter must be ready to take up that duty.Send her to pilot school when she old enough, if she so wishes, of course.
>>5972855>Flying may sound kino, but I'd rather focus on teaching her things we know about rather than things we don't.I have to agree on this point. I mean we taught Elena how to fight, why not teach our own daughter self-defense?
Monday was a sleep catch up day apparently.Alright, for uniform->>5972377>>5972384>>5972868Something similar to your own familiar old dress, with unique identifiers. Why mess with what works?>>5972859Trendsetting with berets, why not? Less formal than the peaked caps.Light wear options possible, so that stuffy coats aren't all there is?>>5972419>>5972855Two more for fighting and the future.>>5973056Focus on the ism. The futurism.I'll be updating in the morning.
Wouldn’t it serve your daughter best in life, to know how to fight? Yet, that alone was insufficient for the demands of the days to come, wasn’t it?“If you want to learn how to fight.” You told Vittoria, “There’s more to fighting than just learning how to defend yourself, it isn’t just punching and shooting and all of that. Any proper soldier knows why they’re fighting. Too many haven’t, and they were worse off for it. Without knowing what’s worth fighting for, a soldier might as well be a wild animal.” You put your hand on her head, “And you’ve done enough of that already.”Vittoria didn’t fight off your pet. “You’re talking like I’ve gotta study for tests. I wanna fight, not go to more school.”“Combat is a school, of a sort,” you told her, “and a sword can’t hurt anybody but yourself if you don’t know not to hold it by the sharp end. I’ve spent years training soldiers, Vi. Trust me.” None of them had been adolescent girls, but young men could be just as moody sometimes in their own way. “Okay, okay,” Vittoria relented, “As long as the fighting part’s there too.”“Of course,” you told her, “Without the fighting part, the why is just words. They’re both important.”“Papa?” Vittoria said lightly, and she put her arms around you. “Thanks.”“Anything for my daughter.”“Could you…” Vittoria said hesitantly, “Not tell Mom?”“Keeping secrets from your family isn’t any good, Vi,” you said to her sternly, “Your mother will understand, or she’ll at least accept it.”Vittoria sighed as she let you go again. “Fiiine.” She looked down and put her hands together, “So can we, uh… start now?”Impatient little Vi. She was young, a year was forever, to her. “You want your first lesson already?” You didn’t have a plan for this, but you’d thought about how to tell her, before. “Alright. Vi, do you know what Utopianism is?”“I’ve heard you and Padrino talking about it, I think,” Vittoria said, “I don’t remember it from school or anywhere else.”“Your honored name, Antonia,” you said, “What does it mean?”“…It means that I’m in trouble?”This wasn’t the first time you’d told her this. “Yes, but no. That name is to honor Anton Anges, the founder of Utopian philosophy in the last century. The Utopia is what happens when everything is as good as it can get, or when things can only get better. When there’s no problems that can’t be solved. Utopianism, Vi, is all about making the world a better place for everybody. It’s about making the next day better than yesterday, about solving the problems of the world. Utopianism is doing the right thing for all peoples.”Vittoria wrinkled her nose. “It sounds good…so why haven’t I heard anything about it? If it’s all good, then people should talk about it more.”
“Because,” you explained, “It’s complicated to explain it, to learn it. Anton Anges said in his great book, The Forthcoming Dawn, that Utopianism is the next step in human development. It hasn’t been done for the same reason that babies don’t know how to walk or read right away. He said that humankind only recently developed to a state where true Utopia could even be thought of, let alone accomplished. It’s why I haven’t tried to explain it to you before now. You need to understand life and the world to a certain degree before Utopianism can be explained properly.”“Okay…” Vittoria frowned, “I don’t really get it. You still haven’t said why it’s not been done, if we’re ready for it. Is that complicated too?”“More than you can imagine,” you said with a dim prediction of just how much had to be explained, depending on the quality of Vittoria’s history education. “But it’s not like nothing’s been accomplished. We live in a Representative Republic, Vittoria. I know your classes have taught about the government here at least.”“My classes said that Trelan is a democracy.”“It functions on democratic principles,” you began to say in longer form, before deciding not to get sidetracked, “Democratic principles that were spurred on and developed with Utopianist theory. All over the world, countries have been turning more and more towards such things. That’s the other core of Anton Anges’ Forthcoming Dawn. Utopia is an inevitability, Vittoria. As the people of the world all become part of the Class, the world will change according to their will. Things will get better and better, is basically what he wrote. It’s only a matter of how much time passes until humanity evolves to that point. Just like a child will eventually become an adult, no matter what they wish otherwise, and that’s for the best.”Vittoria stared blankly at you. “I have a lot of questions. Is learning to fight this complicated?”You laughed at that. “Not nearly. But a lot of questions on Utopianism are about figuring it out for yourself, as much as knowing about the world and its problems. Thankfully, you don’t have to think as much to learn the right way to win a fight.”“Can we start on that, then?” Vittoria asked, “I don’t wanna think too hard right now.”Before dinner would be a good time to go through that anyways. “Okay, Vi,” you said, “Come at me then. Give me your best shot. I know your Padrino has taught you at least a few things, or Lolo wouldn’t have told me what your Segreta Famiglia was, Scultrice.”Vittoria’s cheeks reddened. “I haven’t punched anybody in-“
“Months,” you cut your daughter off, “That’s another thing, Vi. If I teach you how to fight, you can’t go off after school and fight your girlfriends with it. Arditi techniques are for killing, Vittoria, not for children’s play.”Vittoria bit her lip in anger. “Lolo oughta not bite the hand that’s helping him.”You noticed, all of a sudden, Lorenzo, trying to keep quiet as he spied on you and his sister from around the corner, and he shrank away.“He didn’t tell your mother, at least,” you warned, “Remember what I said about keeping things from your family. The baker does need helping out around the shop for a while. Consider that proper recompense.”Vittoria grimaced, and bounced from one foot to the other. She wasn’t dressed for a fight- just her usual, a shirt and vest with a long skirt that went to her ankles, an intricately braid-decorated ribbon round her collar. “I want t’ get to fighting, not more lectures, papa. I’m sorry, alright?”“It’s a lesson, Vi,” you said, “With how much you get into, you ought to know by now that a fight isn’t just won with flesh. Now, give me your best shot like I asked.”Your rascal of a daughter eyed you up and thought. This was a new scenario for her. She might have been taller and bigger than any of the other girls her age, but you towered over her, were bigger in every possible way. A match so uneven that it would have been comedic, if it wasn’t a way that many used to win a fight without even throwing a punch. “You won’t hurt me, Vittoria,” you reassured her, “Just do what you think would work.”Vittoria focused up, and you noticed her legs tensing under her skirt. She snapped a foot into your ankle, and then the same foot shot up into your chest with a solid thwack, whereupon you snatched her ankle with your hand.“H-hey,” Vittoria complained, as you held her with her foot at head height, “Papa, my skirt-““That’s a good trick,” you said, “But what do you do now?”“Papa,” Vittoria insisted, “I get it, just,” she fumbled with her skirt, “Let me…Papa-”You let her leg fall, and Vittoria tumbled onto her backside. “You’ve never fought somebody bigger and stronger than you, Vi,” you said, “You’re a young lady. Even when you’re fully grown, there will be fights that you can’t win with one good hit. Padrino is as big and strong as an ox, Vi. You can’t fight like he does and win.”“I know that,” Vittoria grumbled, rubbing her thigh sorely.
“I’ll tell you how to get out of that situation eventually,” you said, “…Are you really kicking other girls in the face, Vi?”“Nooo,” Vittoria crossed her arms and huffed, “You said to hit you with my best shot.”“Good,” you said sternly, “I think I’ve given you enough to think on, now. We’ll do this more seriously starting tomorrow. And, Vi?”“Yeah?” She asked as she stood up.“When I was fighting in the Emrean Liberation, I didn’t stay an infantryman for long,” you said. It wasn’t something you hadn’t told her about before, but your war stories never went into any unpleasant detail. “I became a tanker. In a tank, I was stronger than any lone infantryman could be. We fight like Futurists should, Vittoria. I want you to consider that too. Think about how you can rise above the limits of your body. Like…” You had an idea. “Have you considered, Vi, being an aviatrix, if you want to fight?”“A what?”“An aircraft pilot, Vi,” you said, picking her up by her shoulders like you did once, “When did you stop playing airplane, Vi? Only a couple years ago? Maybe you’re old enough to start learning about the real thing?”Vittoria pondered it briefly. “I…don’t know. I don’t know what I want to be, papa, but if that would make you happy…”“You’d make me happy as long as you followed your heart, Vi.” As long as that heart didn’t swerve into something like prostitution or journalism, but that would be a ridiculous impossibility for this girl. “Just know that there’s many ways to be a better fighter.”Vittoria went inside the house again, but you lingered outside, and Lorenzo, your eldest son and second child, emerged from hiding.“You know,” you said to him, “If you want to share lessons, you can.” He was probably a better listener on academics than Vittoria was, even if he was just elven years old. “You already do plenty together.”Lorenzo shook his head meekly. His longer hair made him look as androgynous as his sister once had. “No, papa. I want to, but Vi wants to have special time with you. I don’t want to be in the way. You’re her favorite, you know. And she wants to be your favorite too. So…I’ll just listen.”You sighed, and patted him on his green head. “It’s alright, Lolo. If she doesn’t learn to share, we can still teach you well enough when she’s on pilgrimage.”
Vittoria had some right in feeling obligated to your attention, you supposed. You had six children, and trouble keeping track of all of them. Your eldest daughter, Vittoria, your second, Lorenzo, thirteen and eleven years old. The next brother Luigi, and then Ydela, eight years old and six, then the next pair of girl and boy, Chiara and Giuseppe, four years old, and the other closing on his second year. You felt a bit bad that you didn’t know your younger children as well as you could have. They tended to connect more with their siblings and mother, it seemed, rather than competing for attention with your eldest children. Ydela, you knew, greatly admitted her older sister, and the paleness of skin and hair that she had been born with had never gone away, making her even more unusual than her sister had been when it came to what the native children were accustomed to. Despite being a Nief’yem by blood law, Ydela was already being called a Pohja, which was not a term that had grown kinder with your stay here.That night, you and Yena were keeping each other up with conversation as you lay next to each other in bed. Avoiding pregnancy hadn’t reduced Yena’s excessive libido, but she preferred a particular sort of end to satisfying that which meant she had no choice but to be restless in the evening these days.“Palmiro,” she said as she pushed her head against your shoulder, “It feels strange. It’s been over ten years, since we married. Most of our time together…life was growing within me. I was thinking today, that normally, right now, I would be pregnant…” She was thirty-five years old now. Still plenty fertile, probably. “It must be a welcome reprieve,” you said to Yena, putting your hand on her stomach. She was beautiful when she was slim like now or when she was swollen with child, as far as you were concerned, but pregnancy was not a relaxing thing to endure, you knew well by now. “In a way…” Yena said, “But…I loved it, Palmiro. I cannot think of anything more fulfilling in the world, than having our children.”“We’ve our hands full already, don’t we?” You asked warily, “I’m afraid that I’m not giving all of our children the care they need from a father.”“I can mother well enough while pregnant still, Palmiro,” Yena said haughtily. “Have I ever given you cause to underestimate my strength?” Admittedly, no. Yena took to motherhood and housewife duties with a rigor you didn’t remember even from your own mother. “But…with Vittoria going on pilgrimage next year,” Yena’s tone inverted into uncertainty, “Children grow up, Palmiro, I know that, but the idea of our household growing quieter, of our children going out into the world and leaving us. It makes me dream for their happiness, but I also dread the coming of those days.”“They’ll come back when they do have to leave, dear,” you said to Yena.
“But how long has it been since we have seen our parents, Palmiro?” Yena asked, “Our children haven’t even met their grandparents. I only fear that we’ll share that misfortune.”“Our children won’t make the same mistakes I did,” you said to Yena, putting your arm around her waist. “It will all be fine soon. We’ll be able to go home.”“This is home, isn’t it, Palmiro?” Yena asked, “If it needs to be? Our children were raised here. The people accept us. We are wealthy. If this place is better than Vitelia…”“We must go back,” you said, “We are Vitelians.”“…” Yena sighed a long, deep breath, “I’m afraid, Palmiro. I don’t want to watch as our family grows smaller as the years go by. I want our family to be so great, that I cannot count the children who call us grandmother and grandfather.”You imagined it for a moment. “That sounds stressful.”“No less so than your dreams for the world’s future, no?” Yena asked, “What better way to guide the future than to carry yourself into the future through as many families as possible? My Lion. My August.” She put her arms around your neck and gave you a kiss. “…I know I am greedy, but,” her eyes shined at you, “How could I be anything but, with a man such as you? When may I have another child, Palmiro?”>When the dawn comes.>Upon returning to Vitelia.>Now.>Other?The family portrait is waiting for when you say "when" on the kids, at least in the short term.
>>5974168>When the dawn comes.
>>5974166>As long as that heart didn’t swerve into something like prostitution or journalismHa, I like how both of these are put into the same category.>>5974168>Upon returning to Vitelia.And actually settling there, that is.
>>5974166>As long as that heart didn’t swerve into something like prostitution or journalismMaybe Palmiro is alright. >>5974168>Now.Palmirino must look like Mexican ET at this point.
>>5974168>>Now.
>>5974168>Upon returning to Vitelia.>Now>Cry, then wordlessly latch onto a tit and start suckling
>>5974168>Now.>with the caveat that we may have to leave again in the future. The dawn needs leaders. You can promise to not be a Frontline soldier.
>>5974168>>Upon returning to Vitelia.Insert barefoot and pregnant meme here
>>5974168>Upon returning to Vitelia.No point in buying a bigger house here just to sell it again soon
>>5974168>>Now
>>5974168>Now
>>5974168>Upon returning to Vitelia.Oh damn, I was so busy with uni that I forgot about this quest. Was nice catching up.
>>5974168>Upon returning to Vitelia.No tears, no sentimentality, just Vitelia.Avanti!
>>5974168>Upon returning to Vitelia.
>>5974494I support this vote specifically.
>>5974175>>5974485Man I don't know when.>>5974178>>5974254>>5974268>>5974316>>5974483>>5974494>>5974537>>5974578>>5974624Babe we have given Trelan way too much spare meat, they're not getting another blondie.>>5974184>>5974231>>5974260>>5974436>>5974481Surprise.Updating.
It wouldn’t be now. It might not even be soon. Yena’s desires were never to be neglected though, and you had a certain answer.“When our family returns to Vitelia,” you told her, “When the new chapter in our lives starts. Then.”Trelan might have been good to you. It might have given more than you’d ever asked for, but you were tired of the place. Each day had ended with a wistful gaze to the southeast, to the great mountains that were as much a wall to you as they were a rift between the north and south of the continent. Another man might have seen sufficient reason to give up. To allow fate to speak to him in such a way that it was obvious would your life and future would be, and what the new terms for happiness would be. To stay here in this rising regional power, and to grow more wealthy and powerful, and eventually die on your mountain of meager, mundane accomplishment. Yet, the dawn would come after strife and bloodshed, you remembered. Not a lifetime of peaceful idyll. You could not be absent for it. This was too much to explain to Yena. She followed and supported you, comforted you, but she never tried to understand the Forthcoming Dawn. It was too abstract, and the past’s trappings were too precious to her culture. Yet she could understand when you needed to be somewhere, and when her mere presence would be the greatest help possible.Yena tucked herself under your arm. “Alright. But…I have heard troubling things about Vitelia for a long time. I’m afraid it won’t be a better place than here.”“That is why we have to return.”“Yes, but, Palmiro, I’m only concerned for the safety of the children.”“And that is why I’ll be looking around first,” you added. “…Be careful, Palmiro,” Yena said wistfully, embracing you.“I will be, Yena,” you said as you held her head against you, “But I must go ever onward.”You yourself couldn’t get yourself to sleep easily, even as your wife’s breathing slowed, the warmth of you letting her relax even if you’d given her worries for the future.
The dread of danger was a completely fair presumption for Yena to make. To go over every reason that Vitelia hadn’t gotten any better since your departure would be a long story, but its current stability was questionable at best. The lack of assertiveness by the King’s government had led to fractious relations between provinces, families both noble and secret, as well as the dominance of fringe politics, assassinations and riots and other undeclared wars, with even Noble families’ Household Troops being flung against one another in all but uniformed conflict, the Royal Vitelian Army unable to gather the manpower for martial law even if the King allowed for wartime measures such as an increase in conscription to be enacted. That was just what Leo had shared with you, what other Vitelians had corroborated. The most assertive thing that the Kingdom of Vitelia had actually done had been a general’s independent action. Tiring of the Kallean occupation of the strip of Paellan coast next to Vitelia(as well as Kalleans themselves poking around the border past that), he had taken his command and occupied the territory himself, pressing out the Kalleans after years. His meager core forces had been bolstered by militias and Future League volunteer paramilitaries- Maggior Generale Mariano De Nuvolere had become a famous name overnight, treated as a conqueror even though the Kalleans had withdrawn with only minor skirmishing. The Kalleans had been uninterested in escalating to war with Vitelia, though you imagined that after the show in Gilicia, they could have given the demoralized and depleted Royal Vitelian Army a run for their money, let alone the numerous untrained rabble that had accompanied them in the western expedition.Of course, this was only a vastly popular move in the west, where the Kalleans had been meddling. Plenty became concerned about the effects such an independent expedition’s success might have if a similar idea was had for interventions inside Vitelia, though others wondered openly about the potential for similar expeditions to Vitelian territory in the Auratus, occupied by Fealinn and Halmeggia still. Such talk was not being kindly treated- while Paelli had celebrated General De Nuvolere’s counter-occupation driving out the Kallean trespass, and his infamous new blue-haired harem of courtesans was proof of such, attempts on other territory would easily be the introduction to more wars, and if there was one thing that ageing King Lucius IV was strongly against, it was any more wars against nations.
In a way, you were starting your own part in this trend, with the formation of the company now registered as the Aurora Legion. It was no thousands strong mob, but it was a strong start, and its teeth would be well sharpened by the time anything major happened they might take part in, you wagered, hoped. Especially considering the expense. Trelan was hungry for mercenaries for the new Pohjalan Governate, but your initial investment probably wouldn’t turn around for some time. It had been a fat portion of your reserves even before the necessary loans.The company inspired confidence, though, a pleasant surprise as you went to inspect them before they were to deploy for their first contract- rural peacekeeping up in occupied Holherezh.“You’ll not be disappointed, Signore Bonaventura,” you were told by the Company Captain, leader of operational command and general executive, newly appointed Donomo Alga. “Our coordination’s improved even more since your last visit. The Imperial and the Emrean have mixed up their platoons so there’s an even spread of experienced leadership. It’s already had a profound effect, signore.”It wasn’t how you envisioned things working at first, but you were not going to force your decisions when something seemed to be working well. “Good. Neither of your subordinate lieutenants have given you trouble, then?”“No, Signore,” Alga was a well-mannered fellow, slightly younger than you and in spite of his Revolutionary beliefs, he was far more structured than the wilder Dulechamp, and looked primmer and more proper than the officer of actual higher blooded descent. “Everybody’s fallen neatly in line. Because we all pull the same direction, I think, so there’s little debate instead of at least giving things a good first try.”Your inspection would have little to fix from the looks of it. “Get everybody assembled, then,” you said, “let’s see how the uniforms and banners look.”When the men lined up, you paced down the squads- they looked reminiscent of the Vitelian Royal Army, with their green jackets and buttons, though the trim had no color. Instead, the bright hues on the mercenaries were on identifying armbands, red gold and verdant green, images of sunbursts and grain wreaths and sickles from stenciled cloths depending on the platoon, each of the two bearing a different device on a sunburst flag. In an unusual choice, to save a bit of budget, instead of stiff peaked caps or the fur lined hats of the Trelani, floppy felt brimless berets were the commonly issued headwear, the same color as the uniforms with a burnished metal plate with the Aurora Legion’s insignia upon it for officers, a simple bicolored patch for the non-leadership. They looked a bit rougher than standard army soldiers, but they looked good. Like an organized fighting group, not brigand mercenaries or adventurers, but men who would suffer no doubts to their principles or abilities.
All they needed to do now was set to proving themselves.“They might be under occupation,” you told Alga as the soldiers were sent off. They were in little hurry to leave, in spite of how austere their headquarters on the edge of Pietranello was, with little more than what was necessary to hygienically house a hundred men, most of the living structures now being packed up to take along up north. “That doesn’t mean you have to be their enemies. Perhaps they’ll be interested in learning about the Future, hm?”Alga grinned at you. “We can only hope. Ever since the Emrean Liberation ended the way it did, Utopianism has had a bad name. We’ve a lot of good work that needs doing to fix that.”“You’ve set an impressive goal for us, you know,” you joked, “I was thinking we could start with a good mercenary reputation, but why not set our aims high?”Alga grinned wider. “Just what I was thinking, signore. What better way to pave the path for the future for others to follow than to make it as grand as we can?”You liked Domono. Shame that you didn’t have the time to become proper friends with him, you sensed an energy from him that you had thought long lost in the trenches of the Auratus, of Gilicia.“Signore, is something in your eye?”“No, Captain,” you said, “I’m merely…remembering the past, like an old man.”“We are old men, aren’t we?” Domono laughed softly, “You have…six children, I heard? Judge Above, I wish I had even one. Or a wife.”You reached about Alga’s back and patted it. “There there, Captain. One will come to you. I’ve heard those Holherezhi Pohja are very energetic, after all.”Alga looked down in a tight-lipped apprehension. “I’d rather a woman as seaborn as myself, Signore. I miss my homeland, and its shores. If only it had not moved in a direction I’d rather not walk.”“Or swim,” you punctuated in jest, “Once, I wouldn’t have ever assumed I’d marry a mountainfolk woman, yet it’s been many years now and I hardly ever think of it.”From there, little had to be done besides to finalize preparations and send the lot off on march, their wagons and mules trailing behind marching columns as a small custodial staff was left to care for the now barren headquarters, little more than an administrative building now, a former telegraph post replaced by a bigger and more modern station whose history gave it small usefulness. You watched the company march towards the train station- they’d make an interesting military parade on the way, even if they’d have to save their Emrean revolutionary songs for when they were marching on their lonesome in Holherezh.It made you feel young again for the first time in years.-----
The year of 1923 moved to 1924, and in the summer, with Vittoria’s fourteenth birthday, came the time to send her on Pilgrimage. You’d done your best to pass on what you could in the past year, and she had learned quickly when motivated. She seemed safe, taller and stronger than the others who nervously followed along the Mountain Acolytes as they brought them up to Travaglio for preparations. The Pilgrimage received charitable funding, and those embarking would not want for necessities, nor hospitality from other mountainfolk communities they traveled to. All you hoped for was that Vittoria would take advantage of the numerous birds the Acolytes seemed to be bringing, for correspondence with home. They assured you that you would always be in touch, and could even send letters back. Maybe Vittoria had been prepared to go. The family wasn’t quite ready for her absence, though.Lorenzo in particular had lived in Vittoria’s shadow for his whole life, and suddenly, he was the eldest sibling. More was demanded of him, from everybody, and combined with the rigor his body was about to go through from becoming twelve years of age, he couldn’t hide the stress he was under. Lorenzo compensated by becoming distant from his siblings- and closer to you, as he asked for the same close attention as Vittoria had gotten. Lorenzo was much more intelligent than his quiet nature often let on, for how he soaked up your lectures on history and philosophy like a sponge. He was hopeless for any attempt to introduce him to a spar, though. It was clear he had leaned on his elder sister for that, but he was becoming a man now, and he wouldn’t be able to rely on a girl for physical things for much longer.He wasn’t an impressive model for your next son Luigi to take after, who instead bonded more tightly with Elena’s son Benito, as she came over in preparation to help your family during your planned sojourn over to Vitelia. It wasn’t surprising to you as the boys were half-brothers, and they would be finding that out soon, but what was a shock had been how Vittoria’s departure had utterly upended family hierarchies. Despite being near three years younger, Luigi and Benito were asserting themselves as the most active and dominant children compared to your more passive eldest boy.
Ydela had been closest to Vittoria besides Lorenzo, and was left the most astray, in spite of your attempts to link her with her older brothers. With Chiara, your youngest daughter and only green haired girl, now entering school, you and Yena’s hands were certainly full. At the very least it wouldn’t be long until the long-standing practice of diaper changing would be absent, with Giuseppe growing out of his first years.Parents weren’t supposed to pick favorites, of course. Yet children certainly did, with Lorenzo most certainly being a mother’s boy to the core even with his respect for you and seeking for your mentorship. Yena doted most on the youngest children, as Vittoria’s disagreements with Yena had never ceased. With your preparations for going to Vitelia, your ongoing work despite the Trelani Republic’s scaling down of mobilization, and the administrative upkeep of the Aurora Legion’s initial shaky steps into easy contracts being more problems of red tape and procurement than the trials of battle, you were left with little spare mental energy for the smaller troubles of your large family. It meant, unfortunately, you’d have to pick which of your children you wanted to help the most with.>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too.>Luigi and Benito weren’t twins, but they could act like it- and they were at an age where a bit of guidance would go a long way, especially with them being as energetic boys as they were.>Ydela, your palest, needed support from somebody besides her mother. She was only seven, but you hardly needed a repeat of Vittoria getting into fights with other girls again…>Other things?
>>5975255>Ydela, your palest, needed support from somebody besides her mother. She was only seven, but you hardly needed a repeat of Vittoria getting into fights with other girls again…Non-greenies need to stick together
>>5975255>>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too.The second eldest needs to pick up the slack if the older siblings can't.
>>5975255>>Ydela, your palest, needed support from somebody besides her mother. She was only seven, but you hardly needed a repeat of Vittoria getting into fights with other girls again…
>>5975255>Luigi and Benito weren’t twins, but they could act like it- and they were at an age where a bit of guidance would go a long way, especially with them being as energetic boys as they were.
>>5975255>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too.I'm tempted by the two-for-one deal, but our oldest boy needs support.
>>5975255>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too.A strong mind needs a strong body
>>5975255>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too."The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools."We need to be a guide for our oldest boy.
>>5975255>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too.
>>5975255>Ydela, your palest, needed support from somebody besides her mother. She was only seven, but you hardly needed a repeat of Vittoria getting into fights with other girls again…
>>5975255>Lorenzo needed to be manlier, as a proper eldest son. Especially if Vittoria’s pilgrimage and your own absence might be extended. A scholar ought to be strong, too.Gotta make a commander out of him. Teach him tactics, strategy and logistics. And of course Basic soldiery.
>>5975255>>Luigi and Benito weren’t twins, but they could act like it- and they were at an age where a bit of guidance would go a long way, especially with them being as energetic boys as they were.
I spent all the time I intended to write and draw and such being sleepy or sleeping on Friday. So my bad.>>5975260>>5975272>>5975641Handle the pale one.>>5975263>>5975290>>5975412>>5975463>>5975546>>5975846Your eldest son can't be a nerd, that's unacceptable.>>5975273>>5975278>>5976390Go for the doubler.Writing, though the update probably won't come out for some time since I'm going to a gun show this morning.
>>5976726Based 2nd amendment lover.
The preferable thing would be to spend equal time with all of your children, of course, but it was an impossibility to get much done regarding any of them in that case. It’d be spreading yourself thin for little effect. It was favoritism, but the eldest children also held an important position in the household. Every other kid looked up to them- or they should. That Lorenzo’s younger brothers considered him too shy and lacking in physicality would spell trouble. The best course you could take was righting that particular ship, then. That way, while you were away, you could have more confidence in the man you were leaving to take care of the house. Even if he was barely past his first decade of life.The quiet confines of the Aurora Legion’s compound, though unoccupied by any men who might normally be training, still had vestigial equipment suitable for hardening up the boy.“You will be a man soon,” you told Lorenzo on the way there, “And that means a man’s duties will be demanded of you. Everybody will look to you and expect a man, and God help me, you will show them one.”“Sorry, Papa, but,” Lorenzo raised a sullen objection, knowing he was going to undergo physical training he’d rather not do, “I thought that it was better to be smarter than stronger.”It was easy for a child to think that. There were few people they could claim to be stronger than, but that line of thinking had to be straightened out. “Far better to be both,” you said, “Sea Vitelians have a saying, from an ancient general who they never agree who it is, but they value physical strength and acuity of mind both, so it goes: Ruin comes to those who entrust their thinking to the cowards and battle to the fools. From the small family to the greatest nation, the same is true.”Lorenzo absorbed teaching readily, and he didn’t raise an argument, and only nodded.“Your body is a tool, and your mind the artisan,” you explained further, “The stronger you are, the more options are available to you for anything. That’s why it’s important for you to grow strong if you want to learn anything about a fight or soldiery like Vi does, Lorenzo.”“I understand,” Lorenzo said, “But is this alright? Mama doesn’t like fighting, or the idea of people learning…”“That’s why it’s important to learn, Lolo. So that people dear to us don’t have to.” You patted your son’s shoulder, “Your mother’s just afraid of you taking your strength and going off to do something foolish and brash with it.”“Like what?”“I’ll tell you, so that you don’t do it. As I said, a strong mind is as important to the body as a strong body is to the mind. The girls prefer it that way too.”
So it became a part of schedule. For the rest of the summer and beyond, Lorenzo was made to become stronger, wiser, not just through exercise but through seemingly innocent diversions like games of chess. You told him of your own battle experience, that you’d refused to share with your children for years, but he and his sister were old enough to know. Not every gruesome detail, but just what had happened and why. You couldn’t hope to prepare a tactical mind without being able to tell the truth of your history and experience.So you told him about your training at Monte Nocca and the drills you still knew by heart, then the raid before the war, then the battle of Castella Malvagio, of the razing of Sella Castella, and everything you could remember, everything that could be learned from. Lorenzo often asked for more details, asked why certain things had been done. Oftentimes he had to be taught why certain things worked the way they did, the uncertainty of information and caution against deception. Other times the explanation was foolishness of parts of leadership, bad luck, sometimes, things you couldn’t even explain yourself because you didn’t know why. By the time you were prepared to leave for Vitelia, you could be confident in his health at least. Lorenzo had much to learn, a lot to grow into, but when Vittoria returned she wouldn’t have him dependent on her. Surely, the rest of the family could only benefit as manhood took Lorenzo as womanhood had begun to take his elder sister. Already, Lorenzo’s younger brother (and the one none knew to be his younger brother) respected the elder boy more, though he was not as assertive as Vittoria had been in regards to caps on their growing sense of mischief. The new year came- the first you’d had in a while without Vittoria, but her Pilgrimage had become extended. Not uncommon, but it did mean that Yena was just a little more morose than usual when otherwise it was a time for fireworks, drink, and banishing the old sorrows for the new future.“She sent to us from Monte Nocca,” Yena said with a tired smile as you stood on a hill by the Aurora Legion’s headquarters, outside the city of Pietranello. The night was clear, fresh snow on the ground unplowed this distance from the city. Nobody was travelling tonight anyways. “I wonder if that’s why she’s stayed out so long.”“Impatient for us to return, I think.” Vittoria letters came about once a week. Other youths from the same pilgrimage had returned by now, and Vittoria would be only one of about a dozen left still journeying outwards from the western edge of the continent. She had her mother’s love of discovery, of exploring and seeing new things, a curiosity that hadn’t been well served staying in one country. She had longed to take another trip to Emre, just to see more of it.
“I hoped for her to meet her grandfather at the same time as her other siblings, though,” Yena grumbled, “It’s been so long, Palmiro, so long that I might be as impatient as her about it.”“Soon, dearest,” you squeezed Yena round her waist. You’d be forty years old this year. Even if you’d felt more and more aged the past fifteen years, it was only now that you could call yourself middle aged and be taken seriously at all. “This year, I’m sure, we’ll all be back together at home once more.” At some point you’d have to go and pick up Vittoria by the scruff of her neck and drag her back before she went across the sea to Caelus, whose great gale barrier had calmed again in your lifetime, even if it was too distant for you to care. “What are you going to do in Vitelia, Palmiro?” Yena asked, “I doubt you’ll dip your toes in to see if the bath is hot. I know you too well.”You put your hands on Yena’s head, your thumbs brushing her cheeks, “You know me better than anybody else, for better or worse.” While the children were distracted with booming colors, you and your wife exchanged a kiss rather dirtier than they should see. In another time before them, Yena’s clothes would be off right now, regardless of cold. “I need to see if the beaches of Lapizlazulli are as we left them, for one. If all the cafes and markets have remained afloat, if the constabulary hasn’t collapsed without me.”“Lapizlazulli was a beautiful home,” Yena reminisced, “But it was never the most important place. Not where you must be thinking of going.”You wouldn’t call the city unimportant, but Yena was right in that it was a hub of commerce and culture, not a nexus of political power. Though, did you really intend to descend into the toothy maw of the new world of Vitelian politic as your first steps into your home after more than ten years? >You left home over twenty years ago, and hadn’t returned since. You should go back there- to ground yourself.>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.>What was wrong with going back to the blue seas of Lapizlazulli? You were searching for a Vitelia that was home. You’d had enough of a Vitelia that was a battleground.>Other?Next update will be the last for the thread. Been thinking how I want to do the Revolution bit of the arc and reworked how I was initially planning it- I'll need to actually work it out with more time than I have left for the thread, but the next thread will no longer be prologue.
>>5977634>>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.To the Holy City once more.Though maybe we should briefly stop by home just to test the waters, Bonetto's parents have to be old by this point.
>>5977634>You left home over twenty years ago, and hadn’t returned since. You should go back there- to ground yourself.
>>5977634>You left home over twenty years ago, and hadn’t returned since. You should go back there- to ground yourself.Donom Dei is just asking to be Trotsky'd, let's Lenin ourselves instead. I don't mean Trotsky in the 30s.
>>5977634>You left home over twenty years ago, and hadn’t returned since. You should go back there- to ground yourself.Good to see Lorenzo taking our words to heart.That said we should teach our children more about Utopianism, it's better than hopping it'll rub off on them eventually.
>>5977634>What was wrong with going back to the blue seas of Lapizlazulli? You were searching for a Vitelia that was home. You’d had enough of a Vitelia that was a battleground.
>>5977634>>You left home over twenty years ago, and hadn’t returned since. You should go back there- to ground yourself.It would be wise to have our family away from the turmoil of the city, but we should not be hiding anymore.
>>5977634>>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.
>>5977634>You left home over twenty years ago, and hadn’t returned since. You should go back there- to ground yourself.Homecoming
>>5977634>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.Guys we need to be in a place of power. Not in some random hometown. Because of memberberries. Your choice will handicap how the actual revolution plays and we'll die if we don't have power.
>>5977634Where's Bonetto's hometown roughly located on the map?
>>5977634>>What was wrong with going back to the blue seas of Lapizlazulli? You were searching for a Vitelia that was home. You’d had enough of a Vitelia that was a battleground.
>>5978069>Where's Bonetto's hometown roughly located on the map?Around here. Rural Hill Vitelian territory, right on the edge of the Lindivan province. Which is more a state within a state than a proper province, especially these days, much to the resentment of their neighbors.
>>5977634>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.
>>5977634>>5977808 changing my vote to>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.>>5977971 Is right, fuck it we ball in the Capital
>>5978392I guess some other pertinent questions would be:-Where are the Futurist Leagues strongest in Vitelia at the moment (I assume Lapizlazulli and the east, but just to confirm things)-Where are Leo and Marcella living with their kids presently?
>>5978419>-Where are the Futurist Leagues strongest in Vitelia at the moment (I assume Lapizlazulli and the east, but just to confirm things)Despite how things break up later, the present situation is rather a flux as political lines are drawn up in deeper nature than "noble versus commoner," as plenty of nobility (particularly in the east, to note) are seeing the indecisiveness of the Royal Government and the discontent of their subjects and throwing their sympathy and action in with the masses- though no small amount had such views anyways, even if they were not able to espouse them without potential consequence until the decline of the Three Points. The oldest and thus far strongest Vitelian Future Leagues have flourished the most where societal woes are greatest- in other words, the Capital.>-Where are Leo and Marcella living with their kids presently?Leo has had to venture all over Vitelia, but he is housed in the Holy City- where he and fellow movers and shakers in the Donom Dei Vitelian Future League hopes to be able to influence both the King and the Cathedra both.
>>5977634>The darkest maw was where the light of the future would have to be found. To Donom Dei you’d go, there was no other choice.We've been away from Vitelian politics for too long, we need to get reorientated with it and there's no better place than the capital.
>>5977637>>5977834>>5977971>>5978407>>5978413>>5978503The Holy City calls.>>5977648>>5977657>>5977671>>5977881Retvrn to the hills.>>5977677>>5978184>>5978389To the Azure Halls once again.Updating.
Homeland here we come.
>>5979306Avanti Vitelia!
“You’re right, Yena,” you told her, even if it might not have been something she wanted to be assured of, “Vitelia is shrouded in darkness, still, and if I am to find the light of the future, I have to delve deep into the Abyss. The Holy City is where I must go. I’ve no choice, if I want the future for all of us to be a bright dawn.”“…It’s been so long,” Yena looked wistfully east, “I’m almost afraid to see what it’s become. Are you sure that you will be safe?”“Leo wouldn’t mislead me on such a thing,” you said, “Perhaps, by the time I’m done visiting, it might become a little better. Then you’ll have nothing to fear at all, and we can lay back and wait for the eternal sunrise to come in peace.”“I would like that,” Yena said as she leaned against you. Even if she didn’t know the depth of what your words implied, she wanted to be happy for you, with you. It was a simple thing you could appreciate without having to think about the what or why.”Donom Dei…” the ringing of a chorus from above came, though you saw the shade out the corner of your eye, close and whispering, “Who can believe what evil might have descended on that sacred place? There can be no future if it is not cleansed. Perhaps you are finally standing awake, rather than immersing yourself in debauchery with mossheads and stewing in the past.””Something we can agree on, Chronicle Cruncher. Too much mosshead minge for the Utopian mind. Time away will do you good. Perhaps you can find a proper Vitelian mistress, as you venture back onto the proper path, in the right lands for you””Do not listen to this beast. He believes straying from one path guides one to another. Family is the root of society, and he would burn it out of spite for it being what hath come before. Regrettable as your choice in woman might have been, her spiritual taint has not spread totally to your children. They are Vitelian for true, in spite of their breeding.”Now was not a time for subconscious racial theory, you thought to yourself as you squeezed Yena to yourself. Better now than while you were making love, you supposed. These specters couldn’t be said to come from any aspect of yourself that you recognized as a real part of your character. Were they manufactured enemies?”Enemies! Look how you poison him against us, companions. All for love of family and what he has made and raised. Your eyes are too set forward to see beauty, I think.””What is forward is most beautiful of all. Yes, though, the frustration has accumulated quite a bit. The sooner you return, the quicker all of us can shed this mantle of torment, this wretched and unworthy exile…”
Just a little longer. You had already informed Leo of your intent to return. Once he sent back a guarantee of a plan of safe travels, that would be the last step needed before everything was ready. Surely that would make the shades give you peace with your family, with your wife, while you could enjoy it with them here.-----The month of March came, and with it, finally, Leo sent word that everything was ready for your visit. Concurrently, Vittoria was also almost ready to come home herself. She had ventured as far as the so-called Imperial Gate, and beyond. The very edge of the West and East of Vinstraga. Further than you’d ever gone yourself. It was finally enough, however, though she would certainly not be back in time to see you off.Perhaps you could find her in the middle of her return, you suggested in your response back to her.Your wife, your family, and home was bid farewell, a leave of absence for your state employment and for the Aurora Legion both. The former’s business had been idle, and the latter anything but, partially because of one’s divorce from the affair the other was helping to maintain. Occupied Holherezh remained rebellious, but the armed and violent uprisings were rare compared to the odd raid or civil unrest. Under the auspices of introducing a modern Republic, the Pohjalan Governate could not suppress the will of the people when it came to such things as speech and expression. It was a good look to have, the politicians insisted, compared to the more northbound occupied territories under Fealinn, whose militaristic airs suffered dissent no matter the means by which it was executed.The Aurora Legion’s idealistic and gentle natured leader meant that they hadn’t gotten into much trouble with locals. The opposite even- news of oppression from the north had caused relatives to try and enlist the help of the unaligned mercenaries, and Captain Alga had written to headquarters how these appeals for help couldn’t help but be compelling- even though they had no money to hire them with, and the decision to put a moratorium on any attempts to attack or interfere with foreign occupations was easy to make even if there would have been compensation involved. The Aurora Legion simple could not find itself in battle with professional troops.Not yet, anyways. For now, they maintained their police duties, and the occasional volunteer or new hire dripped in at a greater rate than people were wounded. Gunfights might have only happened once every two weeks, and they were halting skirmishes, often cleared up through meetings with local favored folk rather than with attacks on cell hideouts. Or so it was reported to you. As far as you went, moral triumphs aside, you were happy that the company was firmly in the black as far as finances went, even if growth was slow.
The far west was left behind, though, as you departed through Kallec, and from there, through Paelli, and through its eastern corridor to Vitelia. Apparently, Mariano De Nuvolere was sympathetic to Leo’s ambitions, and some Vitelian Future League men would be close by to escort you the rest of the way to Vitelia, through the occupied portion of Paelli. A few of them would remember you well- you hoped for the better, since they were part of the expedition that, while successful, you’d considered a catastrophe as far as battle results went.The men you met with were nothing but happy to meet you again, and didn’t even bring up any failures. Like you’d all ventured into Fealinn and done nothing but see and conquer. The longer you spent around Vitelians again, the more it seemed to be that such was the story that had become common knowledge. Leo, yourself, and a band of Vitelian volunteers had pierced deep into the heart of Fealinn and rescued many who were long missing, thought dead, and in these times where individual exceptionalism seemed to carry the day more than actual Vitelian authorities, the name of Palmiro Bonaventura, of Bonetto, had transformed from the infamous Black Knight into a Hero of Vitelia. Even that latter term was no longer so infamous, as the bitterness over Gilicia cooled and the Three Points, once so powerful, had declined and become the sandbag for the public to beat and blame their woes upon.Leo’s work, no doubt, and you’d have to thank him for it even if you’d asked for none of it.You were warned, however, as you crossed the border into Vitelia again, that your newfound reputation was no reason to stop being wary. After all, it was a turbulent time in Vitelia. Where the ambitious were concerned, any heroes who were not allies might be better off dead, where they could be fondly remembered and memorialized rather than voicing, or worse, acting in opposition.You intended to dive straight into Donom Dei, yes. Right into the proverbial den of lions and viper’s nest both. Not right away, though. An ever so brief diversion could be arranged. Just to see your home again. You didn’t particularly miss it, and your wife might have wanted to visit it more than you actually did…but you felt you needed to go anyways. So long away from home…how old were your parents, now? Your siblings would surely have taken over the normal duties on the farm at this point. Elena said that little had changed in spite of how much time passed, but you wanted a glimpse yourself before you committed yourself once again fully towards the future of Vitelia, and the world.
It was the afternoon of the ninth of March when you saw the venerable hills of your homeland- just south of Lindiva, where the roads were still dirt and the people herded sheep near the roads, the car slowing every so often as flocks were guided about by riders and their long-limbed herding dogs, Lindivan Half-Lops, long of face and wolf-like were it not for the floppiness of their short square ears and the close cropping of their kinked fur. You sighed nostalgically. All the dogs you knew in the past would be long dead now. At best you might meet the great-great-grandchildren of Old Macchio.Somebody from your past was waiting at the road to the village that was your old home, seated at the signpost that carried its name, Stattio, the same name as some other villages were called, so your home was more often called Basso locally. The person waiting looked like he could have been local, if it weren’t for that you knew for sure he was not, as he got up and dragged a foot when he approached.“Give us space, I’ll be fine by myself,” you told your escort of Future League toughs as you walked forth yourself. “Cesare,” you addressed the man as you opened your arms, “I didn’t expect you here…” He hadn’t been in any state to be alone in a foreign land, for certain, last you’d seen him, even if Leo said he’d gotten better, it wasn’t to this degree.“Bonetto,” Cesare sighed. His beard was closer kept, but the weariness had not left his face. “I knew that you’d come here.”Your hometown? “I hope you didn’t have to wait long for that. I haven’t come back in decades.”“No,” Cesare shook his head, “I knew you would be here now. I haven’t even waited four hours yet. Not that I mind. The hills are a more peaceful place for thought than the city or sea.”“…You’re much better than when I last talked to you,” though it sounded like he was still…out of it, with all the I knew you’d come here talk. “I don’t know why you’d want to meet here, though. Not much to do. I was only thinking of popping in for…not even the night.”Cesare shuffled to the other side of the path. “I came here because we need to talk, Bonetto. Away from listening ears and wary eyes. I came because I knew I could trust you to listen to me on this.”
Odd. Very odd. “The guard detail’s staying away,” you said, “They only feel needed in the cities, I think. Here they’re just bored. They need a break from the paranoia, I’m sure.”You and Cesare went over a hill; like you were just going on a walk like old times, but there was no chatter of current events, of Azure Halls lectures and writings, of Futurism or the bright hopes of what was to come. He was silent, as were you, until you were on the other side of the grassy slope, and if you looked out the right way, there was no sign of anything made by man save for the crumbled stones of ancient, forgotten structures long ransacked for their bones.Cesare started right off. “I can’t tell you what happened to me in Fealinn, Bonetto. I don’t remember most of it, and what I do, I don’t care to repeat. It was a long time, Bonetto. A very long time. At first, I contented myself in knowing, in some way, I’d chosen this fate. I preferred to languish having saved others. I was never a man of faith, Bonetto, but perhaps if I was wrong, I thought, I might be kindly considered.”“I wish we could have found you sooner,” you said, “I wish I had more faith that you had lived.”“I knew that you would come for me someday,” Cesare said distantly, “I was certain. Because whatever we were doing, it changed us. Changed me. In those mines, Bonetto, and in many days beyond, I didn’t live in the present. I was in the future. I dreamed constantly, while waking and working, that I was someplace and sometime else completely. I saw so much…” His face sank morosely, “And I have forgotten so, so much. I knew, though, that someday, I would be free, even if I was not sure how. I don’t remember how. It’s all patchwork. It was never a constant passage of time. Just…what would happen.”You squinted at Cesare. He had no head wound like you did, but you hadn’t looked at him closely after rescuing him from the camp. “Are you sure you’re alright, Cesare?” You asked, “Leo said he had the best doctors he could get look at you, and said there wasn’t any sign of permanent damage, but…””Listen to him. He has seen what we can only wish to have laid eyes upon.” Oh, piss off.
Cesare’s expression was unchanged. “I’m fine, Bonetto. I’m completely lucid. So much so, that I’ve concealed it from everybody. If you asked anybody else, even dear Leo, I’d be in a state of progression. Still healing, still recovering. Not capable of independent decision, save for holidays, perhaps, like now. My escorts left me alone, but they’re ready to take me back when they feel they should, when they think my current whim has passed. For months now I’ve been in a perfect state of mental acuity, because I can recall just enough to know why I have to keep it hidden, and you need to, as well.”You sat down heavily. “Cesare, I hope you know I haven’t lost regard for you when I say I’m doubting your claims. Of just about everything. We should get some coffee, perhaps.”“There’s no good coffee here, Bonetto. You ought to know that.” Cesare sat next to you. “Trust me, Bonetto. I doubted it myself, but what I saw and remembered, I knew before I even could know. I knew what would happen in Vitelia while I was told nothing and kept in a prison. I knew what would happen beyond, and I’m cursing myself at this moment for not being able to reach back, to just dream the same that I did then, not for the blissful delusion and escape like then, but for the precious, incomplete knowledge. No matter what I’ve tried, nothing has worked like the depths of that hell hole. Please, Bonetto.” He looked at you seriously, “I know that you’re not unaware of forces that defy logic. Things that we would dismiss offhand were they not impossible to deny entirely.”…That you did, though you would rather still consider your own experiences delusion and misplaced superstition if pushed. “Alright then. Tell me what you must.”……In the end, it was briefer than you thought, but it was still talk that occupied your mind through the whole day, and afterwards. It was forward in your head while you spoke with your parents, now grey and white haired and pleasantly surprised that you had come back at all. Less so that you had married a green-hair, but soothed by the sheer quantity of grandchildren they discovered to now have. Elena had spoken to them about it, but hearing it from you was a different matter. Your younger brother and sister were married and had children of their own- a whole thing to unravel, but you weren’t ready for anything more than a quick stop. A reminder that you were alive, that you hadn’t perished in war or exile and had returned before it was time for your ancestors to be buried. They must have been too used to your absence to be disturbed by your distance, though, as you were driven back to your ultimate destination. The Capital, Donom Dei, to meet once again with Leo, to see how and when you could embed yourself within the Future Leagues and the movers and shakers of the Vitelian Dawn.
Even then, you were still perturbed rather than excited. For Cesare had told you what he had predicted, his view on the rise of Future Leagues, his shaky recollections of where they would go, and his ultimatum after. The thing he refused to elaborate upon besides its necessity.“Giovanno Leone must die, Bonetto,” Cesare had said, “Even though he’s Leo. Even with everything he’s done for us. I know for certain, if the future isn’t changed, Vitelia will burn.”You didn’t want to believe him. You didn’t want to think about it. Yet now, the shades spoke fervently of it.”It is a fearsome prediction. Yet what sort of future is wrought by those who would throw away friendship and love out of fear?””What an unappreciative wretch. Ripped from the bowels of the Abyss and this is his idea of just reward?” ”None of you can deny that, should the future he sees comes to pass, no justice or love would matter. It is as he says, and you know it. That forbearance is the ultimate good to come from his rescue.””Deluded visions from the pits of the cursed earth. You would have us set the course of destiny to the ramblings of a madman?””He is not mad. He is afraid. So too should we be, if the contests for power here overcome any bonds of fellowship…”“Nothing must stand in the way of the Forthcoming Dawn. If even one tenth of what is claimed may pass, not even the closest friend can claim the torch of the future, Palmiro Bonaventura. You must be the Revolutionary Man.”-----END OF PROLOGUE-----
That's it for now- there's a lot to do to get to the "main quest," though arguably that's going to be plenty shorter than the prologue was depending on how things shake out. I wouldn't expect it for at least a month.In the meantime, I can answer questions that won't be, you know, stuff that has to be covered in the leadup and execution of the Revolution. Not much time left on the board, but why not and all.
>>5980018>In the meantime, I can answer questions that won't be, you know, stuff that has to be covered in the leadup and execution of the RevolutionStatus and Run down on all Palmiro's children. Current age, their traits, dispositions, revolutionary fervor, favorite food, and at least one wacky fact. You already did it >>5944997But that was a month ago, much has happened and I demand more info on all of them!
>>5980018We need to adopt a revolutionary nom de guerre
>>5980015Bravo, very well run tanq!>>5980054this
>>5980018Thanks for running.>I can answer questions that won't be, you know, stuff that has to be covered in the leadup and execution of the Revolution. Not much time left on the board, but why not and all.Are the Black Coats still around by 1933? Running with the Southern Cities or perhaps absorbed into the Mittlesosalian army like most of the northern groups?
>>5980018Is coffee to be blamed for the scourge of futurism? Is it the devil's drink?
>>5980018What's your favourite part of the entire quest, both mainline and side stories?
>>5980025>Status and Run down on all Palmiro's children. Current age, their traits, dispositions, revolutionary fervor, favorite food, and at least one wacky fact.Alright. Their age depends on the present year, of course (at this end it's early 1924) but I'll go based off of that.I did a quick and dirty sketch series for that. No colors besides hair and suggestion of general tone really. The info was what was asked for anyways. Only for his children by Yena, of course. >>5980054>>5980136>We need to adopt a revolutionary nom de guerreAs somebody of common birth, it's not as important as it would be if you were of a noble house with a family name, but you can adopt one.Unless it's "Il Rivoluzionario," presenting yourself as an ideological concept might seem weird depending on the era.>>5980168>Are the Black Coats still around by 1933? Running with the Southern Cities or perhaps absorbed into the Mittlesosalian army like most of the northern groups?By then, they've either been dispersed entirely amongst mercenary groups- and then into the army of the Mittelsosalian Republic if they were up there, repatriated to the Reich (though only under certain conditions of exile- no monsters, please, thank you) or, funnily enough, forming the core of more than a few of Gilicia's Militant Knightly Orders. They've long since been defunct as an organization that would refer to themselves by their Emrean War identity by then though. With how far some have gone into anti-Reich sentiment territories, even, they'd have kept their true identity a secret.>>5980183>Is coffee to be blamed for the scourge of futurism? Is it the devil's drink?It is undoubtedly the drink of rabble rousers and sedition, according to some, but not particularly Utopian. Too many in nobility and republican endeavors enjoy it to be theoretically a font of such anti-establishment thought. After all, seditious collectives met in chocolate houses and tonic houses as well, and neither of those carry the bitter bean...More seriously, the earthy tones of coffee are more enjoyed by the Nauk and those adjacent to them more than the herbal notes of tea. Even their own "mushroom tea" is more comparable to coffee in feeling.>>5980366>What's your favourite part of the entire quest, both mainline and side stories?It's hard to pick a favorite, but I'd say either Luftpanzer (even though if I were to go back and change anything I'd slow the pace down by a fair bit) or the Silver Lances arc in the main thing. Ashen Dawn was a lot of fun and a lot of work, but for the interests of keeping it brief and readable for the less familiar the narrative had to be sped up and cut down to a degree I couldn't be satisfied with, but that's the nature of skirmishes.
>>5980716>Fervor is not High across the board. We've already failed.
It was fun, interested to see what the "actual" game will be like.
>>5980716God bless Vittoria, the bringer of Revolution
>>5980716Some draw requests for next thread:-Something Aurora Legion related-Can we get a provincial map for Vitelia, much like how Strossvald has the various territories displayed in the modern map?
