An Utterly Thankless Job (Alt. Title: No SV, You Are A Logistics Officer)
- Thread starter Vocalend
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- At the end of the world
Yes. Good thing that i forgot to unwatch this thread then.
- Location
- Who Knows
I never unwatch dead quest threads unless the creator explicitly says the thing is dead haha. The eternal optimist!
Anyway welcome backkkkk
Anyway welcome backkkkk
- Location
- USA
As someone that has 10+ pages of dead quests in my watched list, I agree wholeheartedly.
Welcome back @Vocalend.
Thank you for your optimism. The muse is flitting back to this and hopefully, it wouldn't be a long cycle of monthly pause for the two of them. In another news, I am plodding along for the update, so there is that. Going to be a bit busy for the next two or three days, but I will try to not take up another two months for the next update ; v;
- Location
- Leeds
I like this plan and what a glorious roll to welcome us back with.
Loot: All
Success!
Success!
Week 3 Result (Part 4)
You wake up under an unfamiliar ceiling. Well, okay, you know the feel of this ceiling. The feel of pristine white room, the muted smell of blood, the groaning of injured people. The usual feel of a crowded infirmary.
Your right arm is in a cast, no doubt having been operated on. You were also stripped from your stuffy and bloodied clothing, changed to some plain grey shirt and loose pants. Undoubtedly, the Hor-Herren had taken over all of your files and hopefully, had more sense to not try and open the files without your say-so.
As you mused, a matronly doctor, undoubtedly a First, walked up to you. "Ah, you are awake, Second Lieutenant." She nodded. "I am Surgeon General - not an actual General, mind - Milly Geren."
"How long?"
"Six hours." She pointed to the side of your bed. A table laid there, with a letter and food. "Supper. It would seem that your superior brought you some things to eat." She snorted. "Quite the favourite of him, aren't you?"
"Wel-"
"I shouldn't intrude, my apologies. You know how it is, the gossiping genes is a bit thick on my blood." She tittered lightly. "Well, have your late supper then. And," Her eyes sharpened. "You will be confined here for the next two days, I'm afraid. I can sense your type, if what the word from those MPs that brought you here are true."
You stared back, answering flatly. "The type to rush off to the battlefield and come back wounded and back out again?"
"Exactly." She nodded. "So none of that. And don't try sneaking off, young lady. The guards are unbribable here," Her eyes softened and her voice lowered, as she puts an envelope right beside Karamovich's letter. "For your safety."
Well, that's quite the...thing to hear. The Steward or the Vice-Steward are people whose attention you are unsure whether it would be good or bad to get ahold of, especially with the uncertainty right now.
Either way, you will deal with it later. For now, the supper and Karamovich's letter. You open the lid of the food container before finding your nose getting assailed by the familiar and welcomed smell of mutton. A porridge, kept warm through the help of Ides, undoubtedly a touch that required a favour from someone else from Hor-Herren's company.
You dig in with your good arm, right after you nestle the letter between your thighs, reading down as you grab a spoonful of the meal.
'If you are reading this, that means you are awake. Good.
I will be sure to send the files on the desk to your person to work for. Being sick is not an excuse to skimp on your work after all.'
He means to bring both your work as well as the unopened files from the Proxy. Okay.
'Oh right, the bad news is that under all these commotions, the florist doesn't have any roses left for the week. Try next week? You don't want it this badly, right?'
Your....plain ineptitude on gathering information was covered by the fact that the chaos caused by the Muromets and his ilk was substantial. A silver lining to the dark clouds there.
You would have to try and be better then. Maybe you could ask Ilham to teach you?
A thought for later.
'Oh yeah, the Chaplain said that he will not intrude or seek you for his task. In fact, he said that he is going off into the Front.'
At that, you nearly choked on your porridge, despite the sheer impossibility of that thought. Did the leeway you gave him to make his squad a leeway too far?
N...No.
Administrative Acumen -> [2d20+2d15] -> 9 + 2 + 12 + 15 -> 38
No. It's a leeway possible and more importantly, legal. You can see it, in fact, how the Chaplain-Coropral planned it all. A Priest of the Fourth would be afforded the rubber stamp for leave to the front, so long as it's for religious reasons. You'd be certain that he'd be mixing up sermons and shooting throughout the week. He would also be able to hunt, almost literally, aspirants who would make for good crop for his planned squad, those who found ardent faith in the midst of the crucible of war. In fact, the one of the only ways that he'd be able to do the task you gave him in a week is if he do that.
....Which still doesn't help the fact that he is doing this unannounced. Not even having the decency to say it in person... or perhaps the whole event forced him to go out the city and he had thought that you would be unconscious for longer? You aren't a paranoid officer, so you'd say the latter...though this whole debacle has strained your mind a bit on the matters of intrigue.
'Other than that though, nothing pertinent on my end is worth reporting. I'll see you tomorrow, or the day after, depending if the guards would let me in. They only said that I could hand over the stew, so I made this letter instead.
And if you spying snoops read this, kindly bugger off and burn.
Have a good time recovering.'
Well then. Now, the mystery envelope. The porridge is almost out but you can tell that your appetite will not stick around. Not for this. Setting aside the food container, you open the nondescript red seal on it. The envelope relented its contents. A single letter, slightly bloodstained.
'Dear 2nd Lieutenant,
I am afraid that I will have to call in the favour a bit early. As you know, the Swamp-Stalker and his disciples have nearly scored a terrible woe upon us. The two of us were lucky that none truly terrible occurred. It is a state of affairs that will not last long however. Muromets is a menace, but now, here is an information only few is privy to.
He is a distraction. There's a traitor in our midsts.'
Yup, there goes your appetite.
'He is but a hammer, commanded only to provide chaos to the city. Chaos that would manoeuvre the traitor into a position with which to assail this Frontier-Town. What that position entails and indeed, more details, would only be given during a meeting later at the end of the week. But of course, your injuries would have to be rectified if you were to work at full strength.
The Surgeon-General have expended a significant amount of her Ides knitting flesh from scratch. It will take awhile for your right arm to work properly, but by next week, you should be healed completely, if rather scarred.'
You blink at that, before using your left hand to feel your shoulders. He's right. The flesh you thought to be missing is now...not. This is a favour not light. Wounds like the one you took would take you another two week on your own to work on.... but now, you're not going to be inconvenienced.
'I am truly sorry, that I would have to inflict this sort of madness upon you. I am. But being an outsider, so new to this town, you are too valuable an asset.
With regards,
Anhauser-Busch'
You took a deep breath, and now, more than ever, desperately wishes for a drink.
Great. Now you are pulled in deep. Too deep, perhaps, you thought as you burn the letter slowly in a smokeless and faint fire. Well, all for the Empire... you hope.
Your right arm is in a cast, no doubt having been operated on. You were also stripped from your stuffy and bloodied clothing, changed to some plain grey shirt and loose pants. Undoubtedly, the Hor-Herren had taken over all of your files and hopefully, had more sense to not try and open the files without your say-so.
As you mused, a matronly doctor, undoubtedly a First, walked up to you. "Ah, you are awake, Second Lieutenant." She nodded. "I am Surgeon General - not an actual General, mind - Milly Geren."
"How long?"
"Six hours." She pointed to the side of your bed. A table laid there, with a letter and food. "Supper. It would seem that your superior brought you some things to eat." She snorted. "Quite the favourite of him, aren't you?"
"Wel-"
"I shouldn't intrude, my apologies. You know how it is, the gossiping genes is a bit thick on my blood." She tittered lightly. "Well, have your late supper then. And," Her eyes sharpened. "You will be confined here for the next two days, I'm afraid. I can sense your type, if what the word from those MPs that brought you here are true."
You stared back, answering flatly. "The type to rush off to the battlefield and come back wounded and back out again?"
"Exactly." She nodded. "So none of that. And don't try sneaking off, young lady. The guards are unbribable here," Her eyes softened and her voice lowered, as she puts an envelope right beside Karamovich's letter. "For your safety."
Well, that's quite the...thing to hear. The Steward or the Vice-Steward are people whose attention you are unsure whether it would be good or bad to get ahold of, especially with the uncertainty right now.
Either way, you will deal with it later. For now, the supper and Karamovich's letter. You open the lid of the food container before finding your nose getting assailed by the familiar and welcomed smell of mutton. A porridge, kept warm through the help of Ides, undoubtedly a touch that required a favour from someone else from Hor-Herren's company.
You dig in with your good arm, right after you nestle the letter between your thighs, reading down as you grab a spoonful of the meal.
'If you are reading this, that means you are awake. Good.
I will be sure to send the files on the desk to your person to work for. Being sick is not an excuse to skimp on your work after all.'
He means to bring both your work as well as the unopened files from the Proxy. Okay.
'Oh right, the bad news is that under all these commotions, the florist doesn't have any roses left for the week. Try next week? You don't want it this badly, right?'
Your....plain ineptitude on gathering information was covered by the fact that the chaos caused by the Muromets and his ilk was substantial. A silver lining to the dark clouds there.
You would have to try and be better then. Maybe you could ask Ilham to teach you?
A thought for later.
'Oh yeah, the Chaplain said that he will not intrude or seek you for his task. In fact, he said that he is going off into the Front.'
At that, you nearly choked on your porridge, despite the sheer impossibility of that thought. Did the leeway you gave him to make his squad a leeway too far?
N...No.
Administrative Acumen -> [2d20+2d15] -> 9 + 2 + 12 + 15 -> 38
No. It's a leeway possible and more importantly, legal. You can see it, in fact, how the Chaplain-Coropral planned it all. A Priest of the Fourth would be afforded the rubber stamp for leave to the front, so long as it's for religious reasons. You'd be certain that he'd be mixing up sermons and shooting throughout the week. He would also be able to hunt, almost literally, aspirants who would make for good crop for his planned squad, those who found ardent faith in the midst of the crucible of war. In fact, the one of the only ways that he'd be able to do the task you gave him in a week is if he do that.
....Which still doesn't help the fact that he is doing this unannounced. Not even having the decency to say it in person... or perhaps the whole event forced him to go out the city and he had thought that you would be unconscious for longer? You aren't a paranoid officer, so you'd say the latter...though this whole debacle has strained your mind a bit on the matters of intrigue.
'Other than that though, nothing pertinent on my end is worth reporting. I'll see you tomorrow, or the day after, depending if the guards would let me in. They only said that I could hand over the stew, so I made this letter instead.
And if you spying snoops read this, kindly bugger off and burn.
Have a good time recovering.'
Well then. Now, the mystery envelope. The porridge is almost out but you can tell that your appetite will not stick around. Not for this. Setting aside the food container, you open the nondescript red seal on it. The envelope relented its contents. A single letter, slightly bloodstained.
'Dear 2nd Lieutenant,
I am afraid that I will have to call in the favour a bit early. As you know, the Swamp-Stalker and his disciples have nearly scored a terrible woe upon us. The two of us were lucky that none truly terrible occurred. It is a state of affairs that will not last long however. Muromets is a menace, but now, here is an information only few is privy to.
He is a distraction. There's a traitor in our midsts.'
Yup, there goes your appetite.
'He is but a hammer, commanded only to provide chaos to the city. Chaos that would manoeuvre the traitor into a position with which to assail this Frontier-Town. What that position entails and indeed, more details, would only be given during a meeting later at the end of the week. But of course, your injuries would have to be rectified if you were to work at full strength.
The Surgeon-General have expended a significant amount of her Ides knitting flesh from scratch. It will take awhile for your right arm to work properly, but by next week, you should be healed completely, if rather scarred.'
You blink at that, before using your left hand to feel your shoulders. He's right. The flesh you thought to be missing is now...not. This is a favour not light. Wounds like the one you took would take you another two week on your own to work on.... but now, you're not going to be inconvenienced.
'I am truly sorry, that I would have to inflict this sort of madness upon you. I am. But being an outsider, so new to this town, you are too valuable an asset.
With regards,
Anhauser-Busch'
You took a deep breath, and now, more than ever, desperately wishes for a drink.
Great. Now you are pulled in deep. Too deep, perhaps, you thought as you burn the letter slowly in a smokeless and faint fire. Well, all for the Empire... you hope.
Last edited:
- Location
- Leeds
Everything is spiraling out of control.
Chronobreak
Chara Appreciator
- Location
- Chicago
- Pronouns
- He/Him
This is the most danger I've felt for a PC in a quest in forever.
I like it!
Winslett is co-ol and it's really refreshing to have a PC who starts in a dedicated relationship and is by all appearances settled into it. Itsa very cute to see that, even if Emil isn't much of a physical presence.
And cleanly avoiding the shipping wars. Amazing.
Time to put on our thinking caps and not die with a traitor in their midst. Seems difficult but what can you do? The answer is to get enough people around Winslett so that they dilute the line of fire. Bulletsponges is what I'm saying.
I like it!
Winslett is co-ol and it's really refreshing to have a PC who starts in a dedicated relationship and is by all appearances settled into it. Itsa very cute to see that, even if Emil isn't much of a physical presence.
And cleanly avoiding the shipping wars. Amazing.
Time to put on our thinking caps and not die with a traitor in their midst. Seems difficult but what can you do? The answer is to get enough people around Winslett so that they dilute the line of fire. Bulletsponges is what I'm saying.
- Location
- Leeds
Someone needs to tell the Surgeon General that.
- Location
- Who Knows
appetite* I think.
But also! Hmm!!! traitor in our midst. Fun times ahead, clearly~
You are correct. Fixed.
Now, for the next update, it would deal with your Active Action "A Chef's Request", as well as processing everything from the Proxy. And there's finally going to be a vote. Things got cleared up on my end all the sudden, so update might drop on the weekends.
- Location
- USA
Oh hey this is back. Looks like we got a good roll for the loot, so that's good.
I can't really bring myself to be worried about the traitor though with how much sway the dice have in this quest. While it is far from the worst I've seen with randomness deciding everything, it's still pretty substantial.
I can't really bring myself to be worried about the traitor though with how much sway the dice have in this quest. While it is far from the worst I've seen with randomness deciding everything, it's still pretty substantial.
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
Emil's fiancee or someone that wants to court him or is courting him. Absolutely no interaction other than indirect prodding from each side, well, her side.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
Alright, I'll clarify.
I forgot some of the plot points except that she sent us roses for one reason or the other... but what does this passage refer to? Were we trying to do something here, and if so, what?
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
Ah that. Probably because we took this action:
It's meant to be a slightly cryptic message from Karamovich since he's forced to make do with a letter instead. He was being a bit cheeky as per usual. And Winslett don't quite know why she sent the roses your way. She had assumed it to be some sort of threat but talks with Karamovich sort of elaborated that that might not be the case.
Week 3 Result (Part 5)
Administrative Acumen
[2d20+2d15] -> 12 + 19 + 13 + 8 -> 52
Even in the state of being wounded, work comes easily to you. Much easier, perhaps, than you could have expected it to. Well, not really. Karamovich's paperwork were already in order to be done and there was never any doubt that you would have trouble with it, but time was the biggest issue.
Time, the thing that you have in abundance what with your condition of being stuck in the infirmary. The Surgeon General had extensively insisted that you are not to work, but as per usual, persuasion comes easy for the Hor-Herren. Between his pressuring as well as your insistence, you had been given the leeway to do your work. Stacks of paperwork lie on a 'requisitioned' wooden table, as you single-handedly in the most literal sense work upon it all.
Two days. Two days of almost fully focusing on the task given by the First Lieutenant has the simple result of doing almost...everything you're tasked with. The worry is there on your heart about everything else, from Ilham to the traitor, but they are distraction.
And there is something you can glean a bit further about Karamovich, even though this merely confirms it.
He trusts you. Implicitly so.
The task here may seem to be of little worth to most, but there are values in things like these for people like you. In things that are supposed to be privy only for Three Named. You recall the slight rebuke that Anhauser-Busch had given to the man back on the first week. He's not rebuking Hor-Herren for making you do his job. But he's rebuking Hor-Herren for making a Two Named do his job. It's a sort of pride that you saw instances of during your stay in Pennsbrooke. The sort of pride that made the Three Named to grit their teeth and do their work without depending on their perceived lessers because they are supposed to be better.
It's the sort of pride that make you feel both slight disgust but a very great deal of warmth in your heart. Disgust, because overall that sort of feeling is just unbridled hubris that could cause more harm than good. Warmth, because you had fallen for Emil for that exact stubborn pride.
...The sort of pride that Karamovich that is nonexistent in him. Or...is? In a different manner? You would scarce think why someone would, in their free time, relegate themselves to the position of a cook, of all things. Okay, a damn good cook, but still. The key thing of course, is that he could care less about your status. Your skill is more important to him. A dark and growingly paranoid part of your mind whisper of the thought that he doesn't care because you can't possibly hurt him. You quash that thought. Such paranoia is beneath you.
So then, the task given.
For example, it gives a list of officers that are present throughout the entirety of the 42nd Company as well an annotated file, one listing notable personages within the Company that would be useful to know for an officer like Hor-Herren.
And thus, you. Either in the case that you would 'debase' yourself to the realm of politics...or just because knowing your fellow officers is good information. You sort the list of notables to those that would be more important for Karamovich to know, and those that are just as important for him to know
Captain Gulfry Gren-Desault is a very traditional officer in charge of the 42nd Company. Curmudgeon and old. The epitome of an old warrior who was present ever since the Autumnal Revolution, quashing republican rebels all around the Empire. He is, for all intent and purpose the superior above you and Karamovich. And one that you don't think are inclined to your presence, for the simple fact that you are a Two Named. No pressure. [Ardent Monarchist, War Hero]
Warrant Officer Kyai-Patih Dana Sangit on the other hand, is not exactly on your Company but a presence that could not be ignored. An exchange officer from the Magocracy, who also carried the Fey Bloodline of the Far West. He is the nonchalant carrot to the unrelenting stick of the old Captain. The Captain who in turn tolerated his foreign and unusual line for his strides in managing the Company. That, and an unusual magical prowess so different than most Mages. [Mystic Channeller, ++Ides Manipulation]
1st Lieutenant Doukakis Yermaun is...not from around here. He's an oddity even amongst the shortlist. Natural blue hair, the sign of the supposedly wiped people of the Gilgre Continent. In addition he is mute by volition, taking a vow of silence that seems unbreakable, electing to speak through letters and writings or should need be, Ides-assisted images. But that doesn't stop him from being an adept commander of the 21st Platoon, showing a steady hand at all facets of an officership. Rumours have it that the spirits of his dead people aid him in battle but...that is just rumours, right? [Mysterious Mute, Jack of All Trades]
1st Lieutenant Lys Der-Flys cuts an interesting figure in the reports, of which she held three pages by her lonesome. A daring Three Named in command of the 37th Platoon intent on getting herself killed. Not a hyperbole, that. She have been diagnosed by army physicians to possess suicidal tendencies. It's only by her status as well odd intergenerational friendship with the Gren-Desault that she is not relieved from the line of duty. And it's only by her skill that she survives engagements that had thoroughly made her Platoon a perpetually understrength unit. For now. [Suicidal Daredeviless, +Melee/Ranged Combat, In Possession of Multiple Ides Codes]
You blink in your musing as you reread this shortlist. This list is biased. You have focused on the weirder crop of Officers. Ones that catches eyes by simple virtue of them being truly eye-catching. Which is fine, you think. Karamovich himself must have mingled with the more mundane and approachable officers. You'll make the judgement call to add the two odder officers to the shortlist then.
1st Lieutenant Valten Gremercy-Garland is an illustrious fifth child of the Gremercy-Garland line, infamous for the fanaticism to the Sixth Companion, the Souled Automaton. Piety of the Sixth comes easy to him and visible throughout his body, partly machinery. His presence is unnerving, as many Wollenfrei soldiers, are not used to the adherents of the Sixth, for their numbers were used against the Empire during the Revolutions. But the commanding officer of the 25th Platoon has proven himself well in the matters of loyalty to the Empire. [Gear-Touched, +Ranged Combat, +Fervour]
1st Lieutenant Rohr Drest is a Two Named, in charge of a fully One Named Zeroth Platoon. A small pit of unrelentingly grim feeling washed over you as you read his 'commendations'. The Penal Platoon, made from the worst of the bunch of criminals and dredges of society. Or sometimes 'criminals' and '''dredges''' of society. And of course, led by people who happen to get the short end of the stick when it comes to the intrigue games played in this battlement. Despite everything, the Lieutenant runs a tight ship, personally overseeing the execution of several deserters in the field of battle. [Punished Commoner, Ruthless, +Melee Combat]
...my goodness, there are a lot of weird people assigned here, isn't it?
"I had expected that this Front would be filled with unusual lot, but I clearly underestimated the sort of madness in play here."
In the end, even with the allowance to work, Hor-Herren had not given you the files from the Proxy. It became clear enough to him that you are, for all intents and purpose, held by the grasp of the Steward. It was grating that he did not gave you anything but you accepted that. That whole business is a matter that you would rather not be discovered.
Which is why it was only on the fourth day of the week, after you were given the permission to leave, did he gave you the files. He laid them on a solid wooden table, located in a rather discrete private room on one of the bars he frequented.
"You expected this sort of eccentricity?" The Hor-Herren nodded absentmindedly, keeping close eye on the shortlist.
"It was a doctrinal gamble. Numbers do not have much effect here. Exceptional people do, however. And as such, they are sent here." He sighed. "A risky manoeuvre, considering that is being countered by the Swamp-Stalker." Considering the penchant of the Berglatzian to snipe targets throughout the Front, it is dangerous.
You take a swig of the brandy provided in the room, straight from the bottle, to the dismay of your CO. He sighed once more as he realizes that you aren't stopping in your attempt to become inebriated. After all, you haven't had any drink during your hospital stay.
"Okay then, now the Proxy." He tapped the table. "I have taken liberty to investigate things on my own and I have to say," The lines on his face hardens. "The Lion of The West?"
You nodded. "The one and only." You expected this. Somewhat. On the back of your subconscious, you knew that Karamovich would have figured out who you owe your future to. Your Patron. That person.
"Care to elaborate then?"
"Do I have to?" You said with perhaps a bit more bluntness than you had to.
He paused, taking in your firm countenance for awhile before looking away. "No. If you do not want to." He then looks back at you, somewhat expectantly, "Well, do you want to?"
[] "...Very well. I will tell you of the Patron." Hor-Herren trusted you. You trusted him enough to tell him about the feud with Francesca Leyton-Feult. You will trust him with this knowledge. It will be dangerous of course. To the both of you.
[] "...For your sake, I will not." Keep the knowledge of the Lion inside you and not outside you. You did not make any covenant or pact or geas when the patronage was made. But that doesn't mean that anyone should be privy of it. Only your father and Emil are privy to this secret. For all that you trust the Hor-Herren, this is a commitment that you are not willing to take. Not in this circumstance.
[2d20+2d15] -> 12 + 19 + 13 + 8 -> 52
Even in the state of being wounded, work comes easily to you. Much easier, perhaps, than you could have expected it to. Well, not really. Karamovich's paperwork were already in order to be done and there was never any doubt that you would have trouble with it, but time was the biggest issue.
Time, the thing that you have in abundance what with your condition of being stuck in the infirmary. The Surgeon General had extensively insisted that you are not to work, but as per usual, persuasion comes easy for the Hor-Herren. Between his pressuring as well as your insistence, you had been given the leeway to do your work. Stacks of paperwork lie on a 'requisitioned' wooden table, as you single-handedly in the most literal sense work upon it all.
Two days. Two days of almost fully focusing on the task given by the First Lieutenant has the simple result of doing almost...everything you're tasked with. The worry is there on your heart about everything else, from Ilham to the traitor, but they are distraction.
And there is something you can glean a bit further about Karamovich, even though this merely confirms it.
He trusts you. Implicitly so.
The task here may seem to be of little worth to most, but there are values in things like these for people like you. In things that are supposed to be privy only for Three Named. You recall the slight rebuke that Anhauser-Busch had given to the man back on the first week. He's not rebuking Hor-Herren for making you do his job. But he's rebuking Hor-Herren for making a Two Named do his job. It's a sort of pride that you saw instances of during your stay in Pennsbrooke. The sort of pride that made the Three Named to grit their teeth and do their work without depending on their perceived lessers because they are supposed to be better.
It's the sort of pride that make you feel both slight disgust but a very great deal of warmth in your heart. Disgust, because overall that sort of feeling is just unbridled hubris that could cause more harm than good. Warmth, because you had fallen for Emil for that exact stubborn pride.
...The sort of pride that Karamovich that is nonexistent in him. Or...is? In a different manner? You would scarce think why someone would, in their free time, relegate themselves to the position of a cook, of all things. Okay, a damn good cook, but still. The key thing of course, is that he could care less about your status. Your skill is more important to him. A dark and growingly paranoid part of your mind whisper of the thought that he doesn't care because you can't possibly hurt him. You quash that thought. Such paranoia is beneath you.
So then, the task given.
For example, it gives a list of officers that are present throughout the entirety of the 42nd Company as well an annotated file, one listing notable personages within the Company that would be useful to know for an officer like Hor-Herren.
And thus, you. Either in the case that you would 'debase' yourself to the realm of politics...or just because knowing your fellow officers is good information. You sort the list of notables to those that would be more important for Karamovich to know, and those that are just as important for him to know
Captain Gulfry Gren-Desault is a very traditional officer in charge of the 42nd Company. Curmudgeon and old. The epitome of an old warrior who was present ever since the Autumnal Revolution, quashing republican rebels all around the Empire. He is, for all intent and purpose the superior above you and Karamovich. And one that you don't think are inclined to your presence, for the simple fact that you are a Two Named. No pressure. [Ardent Monarchist, War Hero]
Warrant Officer Kyai-Patih Dana Sangit on the other hand, is not exactly on your Company but a presence that could not be ignored. An exchange officer from the Magocracy, who also carried the Fey Bloodline of the Far West. He is the nonchalant carrot to the unrelenting stick of the old Captain. The Captain who in turn tolerated his foreign and unusual line for his strides in managing the Company. That, and an unusual magical prowess so different than most Mages. [Mystic Channeller, ++Ides Manipulation]
1st Lieutenant Doukakis Yermaun is...not from around here. He's an oddity even amongst the shortlist. Natural blue hair, the sign of the supposedly wiped people of the Gilgre Continent. In addition he is mute by volition, taking a vow of silence that seems unbreakable, electing to speak through letters and writings or should need be, Ides-assisted images. But that doesn't stop him from being an adept commander of the 21st Platoon, showing a steady hand at all facets of an officership. Rumours have it that the spirits of his dead people aid him in battle but...that is just rumours, right? [Mysterious Mute, Jack of All Trades]
1st Lieutenant Lys Der-Flys cuts an interesting figure in the reports, of which she held three pages by her lonesome. A daring Three Named in command of the 37th Platoon intent on getting herself killed. Not a hyperbole, that. She have been diagnosed by army physicians to possess suicidal tendencies. It's only by her status as well odd intergenerational friendship with the Gren-Desault that she is not relieved from the line of duty. And it's only by her skill that she survives engagements that had thoroughly made her Platoon a perpetually understrength unit. For now. [Suicidal Daredeviless, +Melee/Ranged Combat, In Possession of Multiple Ides Codes]
You blink in your musing as you reread this shortlist. This list is biased. You have focused on the weirder crop of Officers. Ones that catches eyes by simple virtue of them being truly eye-catching. Which is fine, you think. Karamovich himself must have mingled with the more mundane and approachable officers. You'll make the judgement call to add the two odder officers to the shortlist then.
1st Lieutenant Valten Gremercy-Garland is an illustrious fifth child of the Gremercy-Garland line, infamous for the fanaticism to the Sixth Companion, the Souled Automaton. Piety of the Sixth comes easy to him and visible throughout his body, partly machinery. His presence is unnerving, as many Wollenfrei soldiers, are not used to the adherents of the Sixth, for their numbers were used against the Empire during the Revolutions. But the commanding officer of the 25th Platoon has proven himself well in the matters of loyalty to the Empire. [Gear-Touched, +Ranged Combat, +Fervour]
1st Lieutenant Rohr Drest is a Two Named, in charge of a fully One Named Zeroth Platoon. A small pit of unrelentingly grim feeling washed over you as you read his 'commendations'. The Penal Platoon, made from the worst of the bunch of criminals and dredges of society. Or sometimes 'criminals' and '''dredges''' of society. And of course, led by people who happen to get the short end of the stick when it comes to the intrigue games played in this battlement. Despite everything, the Lieutenant runs a tight ship, personally overseeing the execution of several deserters in the field of battle. [Punished Commoner, Ruthless, +Melee Combat]
...my goodness, there are a lot of weird people assigned here, isn't it?
"I had expected that this Front would be filled with unusual lot, but I clearly underestimated the sort of madness in play here."
In the end, even with the allowance to work, Hor-Herren had not given you the files from the Proxy. It became clear enough to him that you are, for all intents and purpose, held by the grasp of the Steward. It was grating that he did not gave you anything but you accepted that. That whole business is a matter that you would rather not be discovered.
Which is why it was only on the fourth day of the week, after you were given the permission to leave, did he gave you the files. He laid them on a solid wooden table, located in a rather discrete private room on one of the bars he frequented.
"You expected this sort of eccentricity?" The Hor-Herren nodded absentmindedly, keeping close eye on the shortlist.
"It was a doctrinal gamble. Numbers do not have much effect here. Exceptional people do, however. And as such, they are sent here." He sighed. "A risky manoeuvre, considering that is being countered by the Swamp-Stalker." Considering the penchant of the Berglatzian to snipe targets throughout the Front, it is dangerous.
You take a swig of the brandy provided in the room, straight from the bottle, to the dismay of your CO. He sighed once more as he realizes that you aren't stopping in your attempt to become inebriated. After all, you haven't had any drink during your hospital stay.
"Okay then, now the Proxy." He tapped the table. "I have taken liberty to investigate things on my own and I have to say," The lines on his face hardens. "The Lion of The West?"
You nodded. "The one and only." You expected this. Somewhat. On the back of your subconscious, you knew that Karamovich would have figured out who you owe your future to. Your Patron. That person.
"Care to elaborate then?"
"Do I have to?" You said with perhaps a bit more bluntness than you had to.
He paused, taking in your firm countenance for awhile before looking away. "No. If you do not want to." He then looks back at you, somewhat expectantly, "Well, do you want to?"
[] "...Very well. I will tell you of the Patron." Hor-Herren trusted you. You trusted him enough to tell him about the feud with Francesca Leyton-Feult. You will trust him with this knowledge. It will be dangerous of course. To the both of you.
[] "...For your sake, I will not." Keep the knowledge of the Lion inside you and not outside you. You did not make any covenant or pact or geas when the patronage was made. But that doesn't mean that anyone should be privy of it. Only your father and Emil are privy to this secret. For all that you trust the Hor-Herren, this is a commitment that you are not willing to take. Not in this circumstance.
- Location
- At the end of the world
[X] "...For your sake, I will not." Keep the knowledge of the Lion inside you and not outside you. You did not make any covenant or pact or geas when the patronage was made. But that doesn't mean that anyone should be privy of it. Only your father and Emil are privy to this secret. For all that you trust the Hor-Herren, this is a commitment that you are not willing to take. Not in this circumstance.
Lets not make this situation any more difficult than it already is.
[X][DOSSIER] Roads Not Travelled: CharGen (Part 2 out of 3)
It doesn't mean that other 'DOSSIER' wouldn't be posted later, right?
Lets not make this situation any more difficult than it already is.
[X][DOSSIER] Roads Not Travelled: CharGen (Part 2 out of 3)
It doesn't mean that other 'DOSSIER' wouldn't be posted later, right?
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Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
[X] "...For your sake, I will not." Keep the knowledge of the Lion inside you and not outside you. You did not make any covenant or pact or geas when the patronage was made. But that doesn't mean that anyone should be privy of it. Only your father and Emil are privy to this secret. For all that you trust the Hor-Herren, this is a commitment that you are not willing to take. Not in this circumstance.
though, might consider switching if I think that'll help with the investigation.
[X][DOSSIER] Companions of Qurn: Overview of the Six
though, might consider switching if I think that'll help with the investigation.
[X][DOSSIER] Companions of Qurn: Overview of the Six
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- Location
- USA
[X] "...For your sake, I will not." Keep the knowledge of the Lion inside you and not outside you. You did not make any covenant or pact or geas when the patronage was made. But that doesn't mean that anyone should be privy of it. Only your father and Emil are privy to this secret. For all that you trust the Hor-Herren, this is a commitment that you are not willing to take. Not in this circumstance.
Okay so, I realize something that I have somewhat forgotten. Which is to make informational posts in regards to worldbuilding and meta things. I can't do all of them, of course. As such, I am going to add an additional voting option. For @FakePriest, @Alphaleph, and @HavocKeeper, you may revote or edit your post accordingly to the choices below, should you wish to.
[][DOSSIER] Roads Not Travelled: CharGen (Part 2 out of 3)
[][DOSSIER] Roads Not Travelled: CharGen (Part 2 out of 3)
This one will deal in detail the what and whatnots of Winslett's relationship with Emil Gram-Grelav in detail, as well as the choice that netted her Karamovich as Superior.
[][DOSSIER] Companions of Qurn: Overview of the SixThis one will be a broad overview of the brief history of the Companions, as well as the Six Orders dedicated to each Companions.
[][DOSSIER] Gilgre Continent: The Lost Jewel of The EquatorThis one will deal with the Gilgre Continent, a landmass the size of Africa, now lost to the cataclysm known as the Great Discharges. This dossier will elaborate more on the nature of magic as a cruel and uncaring force of nature.