And I disagree with you.
-
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On the Road to Elspar [Book 1] (Dryad Mercenary Schoolgirl Quest)
- Thread starter Kei
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
Here's a thought experiment: what if Elizabeth had signaled 20 seconds later?
If she had, then we would already be engaging the enemy (not going to be able to stop knight girl here) and would have signaled them first.
Would we be suddenly trying to disengage and retreat then? I don't think so. We would clearly be committed at that point.
And I honestly don't see that scenario as being dramatically different from the one we're currently in.
If she had, then we would already be engaging the enemy (not going to be able to stop knight girl here) and would have signaled them first.
Would we be suddenly trying to disengage and retreat then? I don't think so. We would clearly be committed at that point.
And I honestly don't see that scenario as being dramatically different from the one we're currently in.
Of course not. But since we have not engaged yet, this situation does not matter.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
I didn't make any mistake with the supervisor and you still are thinking the entirely wrong things. If she had to fight, they were in over their heads from the start. But given their quality and their demonstrated abilities, there is nothing rushing over there is going to do given the situation. Either they can hold for long enough for Neianne and Sieglinde to shatter the entirety of the rest of the resistance or they couldn't, which means that Neianne and Sieglinde get over there along with half the remaining bandits and -they collectively lose anyway-.
No, because you're assuming uncertainty when it's only in your favor and distorting the situation as usual. Elizabeth could have used lightning for any number of reasons and be facing any number of possible threats. Beyond that, you're abrogating Neianne's responsibility as a leader. Oftentimes, a leader still has more information that their subordinate and needs to make a call to take advantage of an opportunity or to use the resources on hand in a more efficient manner.
A leader who rushes over at the first theoretical or assumed cry for help is a -bad- one, they aren't a leader at all.
I'll flip that on you. A leader that ignore an established signal is unworthy of trust.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Ignoring the signal would be to sit back and consign them to their fates and do nothing. We're taking advantage of the situation to draw more attention to ourselves and ensure the bandits in front of us cannot respond.
I've spoken more than enough about that and why. If it was not clear enough yet, I am absolutely not changing my mind.
And saying it in a manner of 'taking advantage of the situation' is very much disgusting me.
I'm going to echo @Muramasa here; I had left the vote open because - at least until today - the two leading votes were super close (by which I mean there was only ever a difference of one vote), and I was hoping that maybe there'd be a more decisive verdict. I suspect the vote now is as decisive as it's going to get, and things are flaring up a bit, so I'm going to call it here, I think. Let's all please get along better next time. x_x
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
I cannot possibly roll my eyes hard enough at your posturing.
What posturing? You guys say I overestimate them. I say you guys underestimate them too much. Just because they are weaker doesn't mean they are worthless.
Looking back, I now regret splitting up. After all, think about it: Elizabeth and Stephanie are much more offense-oriented than defense. It would take, say, missing something at the wrong time for things to go wrong.
- Location
- Nova Scotia
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Clearly, Neianne and Sieglinde were secretly also agents of that rival monastery out to lead her astray and confuse her with atheism and moral complexity.
BTW, we're hoping that the transition to XenForo 2.0 goes smoothly, but just in case, please be sure to keep this tab open and ensure you're still subscribed/watching/stuff after the transition is done. See you on the other side~
After the explosions anyway. As if a major upgrade like this will go smoothly.
2.7 The Sheriff of Apaloft
@Gazetteer is so much better at writing my quest than I am. I'm sorry this took so long.
[x] Take advantage of Eleanore's momentum as a knight, and use her as the bulwark for a devastating frontal attack.
Standing up, you are about to follow Eleanore into the fray when a thought occurs to you. Looking at Sieglinde awkwardly for a moment, you whisper with a mix of urgency and sheepishness, "Sh-Should we offer them a chance to surrender?"
The tall elf swirls her glaive into a combat posture. "You're squad leader," she says simply.
Gulping and steeling your nerves - because somehow trying to offer a surrender is more intimidating a prospect than killing them - you jump out into the clearing with your sword drawn from your back. Never mind that Eleanore has already charged ahead in combat, never mind that the bandits in question - now realizing that they are not alone - don't seem to be able to decide whether they should be looking at you or the knight closer to them; you nonetheless cry out, "We're C-Caldran mercenary apprentices from F-Faulkren Academy! L-Lay down your swords and s-surrender!
You are aware that you're tiny, your voice is squeaky, you're stuttering, and you're otherwise not being a very convincing offerer of surrender. Yet somehow, at least a fourth of these bandits take one look at you and suddenly start screaming and running in the opposite direction.
Why does this always happen? you wonder helplessly as you wave your buster sword around.
The leader of the bandits screams for her fellow cutthroats to stand their ground - that there's only three of them, that they can take these whelps with but a dozen - but she doesn't have time to actually stop these retreating compatriots before Eleanore is upon them.
It helps that these bandits are untrained, unaccustomed to the rigors of combat. It is entirely possible that they have gotten as far as they have through the use of intimidation as opposed to the martial arts. But in spite of such a discrepancy in training, in skills, it is still almost mesmerizing to watch the knight advance with her longsword, her elegant movements almost dance-like despite the minimalist sweeping steps forward, her sword held at a consistent forty-five degree forward that deceptively looks almost like the most basic of stances taught to the greenest of pupils.
But nothing about her fighting is green. Four bandits advance with hoes and plows and scythes, their "weapons" clearly not meant for war but still with a significant reach over Eleanore's sword. Still, she has a much better understanding of reach than her opponents. She slips between one opponent and then the other, deflecting blows here and slipping under someone else's guard there; one bandit assumes that Eleanore is still outside the range of her hoe, but the knight knows better as she slips in just within attack range, and with the slash of a sword, the bandit's throat is slit open, and she crumples, gurgling blood from the gash in her neck. As you charge and watch, you also realize that Eleanore's parries are directed at a very specific point within the wooden hafts of the weapons directed towards her; repeated blows from metal onto wood eventually splinters wood, and causes the metallic ends of rakes and hoes and scythes to fly uselessly off wooden rods.
But the rest advance on Eleanore - the remaining four of them, even as the leader of the pack barely manages to get the remaining three to stop fleeing - and there is a moment where you wonder if that is too much for even Eleanore, at least had two things not happened.
First is that although she was several steps behind Eleanore, Sieglinde has not taken long to join the fray. And relative to their farming implements, Sieglinde's is a proper polearm, a glaive that outranges her opponents, and it doesn't take long for her to start carving through the opposition with her usual whirlwind of thrusts and strikes and swings.
But second is that Eleanore's longsword begins to crackle with lightning.
The blade has gone from plain steel to glowing a faint purplish-blue. With a swing, jagged lines of line arc out; they don't go terribly far, but they're just enough to strike a bandit just close enough, sending her into convulsing spasms, even as bolts of lightning jump from her to two others of her number, resulting in the same symptoms. With the three opponents closest to her incapacitated by electricity locking up their muscles, it is all too easy for Eleanore to behead two of them before thrusting her blade into the third's chest.
You've seen that somewhere before. Not lightning, precisely. But even if it takes a different form, the core is the same; you can feel it. If lightning magecraft conjures mana that creates a simulacrum of electric bolts, then this is even more of a simulacrum: A manifestation of something else entirely, merely taking the disguise of lightning for itself. And this only serves to remind you of that night half a year ago, that night when the Squirrels came to Faulkren, that night when a simulacrum of fire engulfed a katana that defeated a frenzied direwolf.
Stephanie's katana. Stephanie has the same skillset as Eleanore.
Stephanie - you are now certain - has that arcane ability of Caldrein's knights.
But you shelve that thought away for the moment. You are slower than both Eleanore and Sieglinde, but not by that much, and the distance to cover is not that great. Your charge is accompanied with a great heave of your buster sword at the three bandits in front of you, albeit you lead with the flat of the blade. Eleanore may have little aversion to spilling blood, but you'd be happy to accept a surrender; besides, the flat of your blade is no small thing, and there's no guarantee anyone struck will survive it.
You catch only the first bandit with your greatsword's arc, sending her flying as you hear an uncomfortable crunching sound, like clay being pulverized into dust; the other two scatter on all fours, screaming in panicked fear as they abandon their weapons and - regardless of the cursing and swearing from their leader - attempt to flee desperately into the woods. Absurdly, you almost feel cheated out of a proper fight, but swiftly catch yourself. Your objective has always been to neutralize, not kill. It's why you demanded a surrender in the first place. Besides, you almost certainly pity them. You've dealt with wyverns and direwolves and Tennie assassins. What chance did malnourished farmers ever have with you? Of course they were going to run.
But their flight sends them into new figures suddenly appearing from the foliage, half a dozen of those ill-dressed, lean-looking bandits, also running and screaming, the two waves of escapees almost crashing into each other. You are at first alarmed; is this a returning patrol? Reinforcements? Strangely, you don't doubt that - between you and Sieglinde and Eleanore - you'd be able to defeat them, your confidence almost bordering on arrogance, but more than that, you wonder why they're panicking, why they're fleeing towards you and Sieglinde and Eleanore instead of away.
Then a bolt of lightning hurtles down, and an explosion tears through the middle of the mess of bandits, sending five of them screaming and tumbling through the air before they land unceremoniously into the dirt, their bodies limp and twitching, ignored by the two swordswomen who emerge from the dust and ash with blades blazing.
In the excitement of it all, you forgot about Stephanie and Elizabeth.
Your roommate is already charging in with that deadly aseri speed, her katana whipping left and right as she charges through the opposition. She does not strike with the flat of her blade - she does not need to - but for the most part, the cuts from her katana are not so deep that they are meant to kill, only to maim and decapacitate. Not that she is perfect about this, not with what has now become somewhere around twenty different combatants moving around, not with Sieglinde's glaive and Elizabeth's lightning bolts and your own buster sword flying about. Closer to the center, a second swordswoman contends with three bandits at once with seeming ease, and further off in the corner, you spot Eleanore dueling with the seeming leader of the group. Although calling it a duel seems like an insult to the knight in question; a more proper term would perhaps be "execution".
The bandit leader sees death approaching, rapidly backpedaling as she is stuck between figuring out whether to run or at least try to harry this closing knight to give herself an opening to flee, attempting a tactical retreat, refusing to turn her back on the enemy like a trained soldier. To her credit, as Eleanore's longsword flares with bolts of electricity once, the bandit has the sense to throw her rusty iron shield at her, warding away the lightning that arcs out with the knight's swing of the sword. But Eleanore closes with all the certainty of a casual stride, rapidly closing the distance between her and her opponent. The bandit jumps backward desperately, thrusting out her spear towards Eleanore as she does so in an attempt to ward off the knight's approach...
The two combatants momentarily disappear from your field of vision as they move behind a large tree, but it's only a moment later that the bandit's body falls limply to the ground sans head.
The pincer is moreorless a success. You suppose that on a tactical level, you've caught these bandits at an excessive disadvantage in training, skills, equipment, and positioning. The downside is that such a lopsided fight provides little in the way of providing incentives for Squad Four to get into formation, to fight together instead of individually; against these combatants who were likely only farmers weeks or months ago, there is simply no need.
The opportunity ultimately doesn't present itself either, as the remaining bandits still on their feet - those who haven't fled, those who aren't dead, those who aren't incapacitated on the ground - drop their weapons and fall to their knees. It doesn't happen all at once, but in a cascade, as the first sees how the cards have landed and submits herself, followed by half a dozen others who see this and drop to their knees one by one. "Enough!" one cries amidst the cacophony of please. "Please, enough, we yield, we yield! Please don't kill us!"
And just like that, the whole ordeal is over. The banditry lies dead, wounded, helpless, and scattered before you. A bit more than a third of them are dead. A bit more than a third have laid down their arms. The rest have fled...and as you catch your breath, you realize you don't have the heart to give chase. What you have done here is enough. You may be wrong - you're young and inexperienced in such matters - but you don't think those who have fled will be returning to banditry anytime soon, not after the beating you've just given them. They've learned the hard way what happens to those who fall on the wrong side of the law.
Taking a deep breath, you realize that you're not quite as winded as you may have initially thought. All told, as your squad calms down but remains vigilant, the skirmish lasted only a minute, if not less. It really was less a "fight" and more an ambush, and it's hard to break a sweat against such untrained opponents. This is not exactly unexpected, but it's still a little surprising; you probably would've run screaming from bandits but a year ago. But then again, you've been through far worse, spending an entire night warring with Tenerian assassins and their direwolves. By contrast, this is almost insultingly easy.
Sieglinde lowers the tip of her spear as she rises from a combat stance and looks on impassively at those who have yielded to her. The instructor that has accompanied your squad from Faulkren to evaluate your performance emerges from the treeline with watchful eyes. Eleanore has disappeared from your sight. You spot Stephanie disappear behind the treeline as Elizabeth approaches from the same direction. The elf stops amid several bandits, their fallen forms twitching and giving off the occasional jagged spark. Lazy gold eyes flick up to acknowledge you before returning to the body immediately at her feet. Lifting a dainty boot, she gives the bandit a sharp, experimental nudge. The woman groans, almost a whimper. "You were ahead of us, I see," Elizabeth observes. Then she nudges the body in the mud again.
"I...d-don't think she's dead," you mumble, wincing a bit with every prod your squadmate delivers with her boot. You've never been on the receiving end of Elizabeth's magecraft - at least when she's actually intending to harm, her zapping you for waking her up in her bedroom doesn't count - but you've seen multiple people who have; it never stops looking painful.
"Is that so?" shrugs Elizabeth noncommittally. "A pity." She doesn't seem to be disappointed either way.
You're glad you spotted the tail end of Stephanie - literally - or else you would've been worried about the state of the other half of Squad Four, seeing how Elizabeth sent up a lightning signal earlier. They certainly made it over here swiftly enough and without much of a problem, but you still want to make sure they're all alright. "Where's Stephanie?"
"She says she wants to check the area and make sure no one else is sneaking on us." Elizabeth scoffs a little. "You'd think the other patrols have run off already, but..." then she shrugs, "...well, I suppose it gives her something to do."
It's certainly a fine precaution, although with Stephanie heading back the way she came earlier in that flanking maneuver, you can't help but wonder if she's heading in the wrong direction. "W-Were you in trouble? I s-saw your lightning. W-We were going to rush over as soon as w-we finished off here."
"Hm?" blinks Elizabeth in mild confusion before lazily waving off your concern. "No, don't be silly. We found the main camp and wanted to alert you and Ravenhill to their position."
You blink pathetically and barely manage to mouth "oh". You suppose you shouldn't have been surprised in the first place, what with Stephanie and Elizabeth and the Faulkren instructor against a gaggle of untrained peasants-turned-bandits. A bit more pertinent to your concerns, however, is how limited your attempts to signal each other are in hindsight. It's well and good that you previously set up a danger signal - something perhaps more worthy of attention than signaling an impending fight against bandits who are clearly not a match for your squad - but had the circumstances been different, had you and Sieglinde and Eleanore been nowhere near Elizabeth's signal, then this whole endeavor at long-range communication might've very well been useless. Nervously, you glance over at the evaluating instructor who still stands at a distance, wondering if she will mark you unfavorably for this.
But amidst all this thought, there is one detail you forgot about, something you are quickly reminded of as an elven woman steps forth, that second swordswoman who arrived alongside Stephanie and Elizabeth, an approaching woman who announces in a sonorous voice: "Don't be too hard on yourself. I asked Lady Zabanya to signal you."
Eyes wide, it takes you only a split-second to step into a curtsy: "Lady Almsyre." Now face-to-face with the Sheriff of Apaloft, the legendary arm of Apaloftian law is everything you expected her to be. Tall and handsome, Sigrid Rossfeldt Almsyre has the air of casual confidence that you've always associated her rumors with, dressed impeccably in high-quality riding clothes, complete with a thick leather cloak that shields her from what rain makes it past the foliage above, coated with a bit of mud at the hem yet still flattering on her. It's hard to tell with elves, but she has the look that would correspond with being in their late twenties or early thirties by aseri and human reckoning. Luxurious locks of blond hair flow down to her waist, her longsword held professionally in a gloved hand, her slight smile carrying the unmistakable ghost of pride, but not unkind when turned upon you. You can't shake the impression that this is the kind of woman that Aphelia wants to grow up to be.
Giving her surroundings a quick appraising glance - it's clear that she did so when hostilities ended, but she's doing so now again - she looks to you and Sieglinde and nods with approval. "You must be the other half of Squad Four, making short work of these cutthroats. Well done." She swivels her gaze solidly to you, her hands pulling several coils of ropes from her sidebag and commanding, "You, stand guard for me. They should be little problem now, but there's no being too careful."
"Yes, Lady Almsyre," you bow your head, following the sheriff.
"Just stand in front of them," Lady Almsyre instructs as she drops to a knee behind the bandits and begins to bind the wrists and arms of each one. "Keep your sword against the ground, and cut down any who attempt to flee."
"Mercy, milady!" cries one of the bandits as the group begins pleading once more, as the sheriff begins to restrain them one by one, preventing them from fighting back or fleeing.
"We didn't mean to!" sobs another. "Our...our families were starving! And Megan told us to follow her!" The tilt of her head in the direction of that headless spearswoman suggests that Megan is - was - the leader of their group. "We didn't know this is what we'd be doing!"
This begging from adult women strikes a very uncomfortable chord in your heartstrings, as you watch these people - bandits, yes, but people nonetheless - desperately plead for their lives. Lady Almsyre, however, pays them absolutely no heed; in fact, she begins to strike up a conversation with you above the begging even as she busies herself with restraining these bandits. "It is a tragic state of affairs that we must have our children uphold the law for us," says she, "but I am not so proud that I won't turn down good help. These whores are not worthy of your attention," she ties down the final bandit before rising to her feet and giving that bandit a kick to the back - not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to send the woman tumbling face-first into the dirt - before turning back to you with a rueful smile, "but there's too many of them these days, and our numbers sadly do not keep pace with our skill. You've done well."
With all the bandits bound, you heave a sigh of relief and strap your buster sword back onto your back. "It's our honor, milady," you bow. "Did you come with L-Lady Zabanya and Stephanie?"
"That I did. They met up with me at the scene of the crime, and performed admirably under my command up this point. You and your squad have done well and have my thanks." Her gaze swivels toward Sieglinde. "They have certainly spoken well enough of their squad leader, Neianne."
An awkward moment passes with you and Sieglinde exchanging awkward glances before she turns to Lady Almsyre and introduces herself with just a hint of dryness in her tone: "I am Sieglinde Corrina Ravehill of Arcaster." She gestures to you. "She is Neianne."
The sheriff blinks, masking her surprise. "Ah." She then gives a small bow of her head in respect; you suppose that although Lady Almsyre is older, she comes from a smaller house compared to the Ravenhills. "Well met, Lady Ravenhill." She then turns to you and gives you a small smile that you can't help but think is not unlike that of a teacher to a student, putting you on the spot. "So you are their squad leader."
"J-Just for our studies at Faulkren, m-milady," you stammer and find yourself curtsying again. "I-I'm Neianne of C-Caelon."
"Caelon?" echoes Lady Almsyre with what is almost certainly a tiny hint of amusement in her voice. "Well it appears you're doing a good job tracking down these miscreants. Faster and ahead of me too, despite it being my job." She smirks approvingly. "That's no small feat."
"Th-That's Sieg..." you start before catching yourself; a more formal form of address is perhaps better in front of another highborn you're not familiar with. "L-Lady Ravenhill is the one who was tracking them, milady."
"Oh? And here I thought it would be the dryad who would be following her prey in these woods."
Fidgeting a little awkwardly, you feel the need to change the subject - there's something about this line of conversation that makes you feel a bit off - as you look back at the bandits around you - those restrained, those dead - and murmur, "Wh-What will happen to them?"
The easy smile that Lady Almsyre has on her lips flickers just a bit, and her next words sound almost a little impassive and deliberately neutral: "Whatever says the mercy of House Celestia's laws."
You fidget nervously, uncomfortably. "Wh-What does the mercy of H-House Celestia's laws say?"
For just a moment, the Sheriff of Apaloft's gaze upon you changes, and you barely manage to master a flinch, at that one moment where her look suddenly seems displeased, annoyed, disdainful. But it doesn't last: She suddenly swivels towards someone suddenly emerging from the trees, her hand suddenly on the hilt of her sword, but she stops herself from drawing as she realizes that this is not bandit, not with how well Eleanore is dressed, her longsword sheathed at her side and now slinging another sword across her shoulder, a sword that you can just barely tell is made of that prohibitively expensive blue metal, an azurite blade.
Still, Lady Almsyre's hand does not entirely leave her sword as she asks, "And you are...?"
The knight sounds almost bored as she replies, "Eleanore of the Glatismant Monastery."
Noting the sheriff's confused look, you quickly explained, "S-Sister Eleanore was with us and h-helped us fight the bandits."
"Ah," Lady Almsyre says flatly, her eyes narrowing a little. There's something very guarded in her body language and tone as she removes her hand from the hilt of her sword, almost as if she's trying hard to master some emotion. "I see you've come to our assistance, sister. That is most surprising."
"I did not come to assist," Eleanore states so bluntly that your stomach drops as the Sheriff of Apaloft glares at her harder. The knight pats the sword strapped across her shoulder once: "They stole this sword. I've come to take it back." She paused before - almost as an afterthought - nodded in recognition towards you and Sieglinde. "These apprentices assisted me."
"I see," sighs the sheriff, closing her eyes as if mustering the patience to not throttle Eleanore. It's a very tense, awkward moment. "Well, you have your sword now." Her tone is clearly sour. "I suppose you'll be off?"
"I will," nods the knight, seemingly oblivious to Lady Almsyre's annoyance, or at least why she was annoyed. With all the mannerisms of passing a stranger on the road, Eleanore turns to leave, and as abrupt as it is, you are almost certain that that will be that...until the knight suddenly stops in her tracks for a second, hesitates, and turns around to look at you and Sieglinde. "Thank you, Neianne, Ravenhill," she says, bowing with a touch of awkwardness; you get the feeling that she doesn't do that much with outsiders. "May we meet again."
Sieglinde nods to her without speaking, so you pick up the slack as you bow and stammer, "M-May we meet again." And so Eleanore turns and leaves, walking with her two swords into the woods. For a moment, you think about calling out to her and asking if she even knows where she's going - she's going in a direction that's very decidedly not towards either Faulkren or her destination of Glendina Monastery - but you ultimately decide against it. Now is perhaps not the best time to embarrass her in front of a crowd. So you watch her back disappear amidst the thicket of trees before remaking with a small smile, "She's...a l-little strange."
But Lady Almsyre does not share your opinion, and her scowl catches you a little off-guard: "She's useless. A warrior who cares more about a sword than a cause. What good is a sword if it will not be drawn in defense of the innocent?"
Her response makes you uncomfortable. It's not that you disagree with her, exactly; ultimately, you love Caldrein and wish that everyone who is able would take up arms to defend the Confederacy against the Tenny aggressors. At the same time, though, for all that Eleanore is strange to you, you don't dislike her. Besides, Caldrein doesn't have conscription; that would make you no better than the Tennies you're fighting; if the Confederacy does not force its people to fight, then should someone who does not volunteer be compelled to do so? Should Eleanore's right to be left in peace be respected, even as the Confederacy is mired in dire straits?
But perhaps this is not the time nor place for such questions. Emerging from the trees, Stephanie marches up towards you and the Sheriff of Apaloft, giving her surroundings one more wary glance before announcing, "I've finished scouting the area. If there were any other patrols, they've probably long fled by now."
Lady Almsyre nods, giving this a moment of thought before deciding, "Very well. Let's return to town then. We'll sort the rest out there."
"Lock them up. I'll have them dealt with later."
On the Sheriff of Apaloft's orders, the local guard lead the bandits into prison cells just next to the guardhouse back in town. Of course, those present include only Sergeant Aethla - who looks much relieved at your return and the success of your mission - and a girl looking one or two years younger than you in ill-fitting old armor - who looks very scared and confused. Is she actually a real guard, a real hire, or perhaps just a stablehand dressed as a guard to project the impression of an actual guard presence in town? Somehow, moreso than just the lonely sight of Sergeant Aethla in the guardhouse, this drives home just how thinly stretched the guard is.
The rain largely stopped just as you passed through the town gates of Faulkren, shrinking to a largely imperceptible drizzle, as if the weather itself is playing a cruel joke on the bandits who were cloakless and were forced to trudge through the mud. They stopped pleading and begging to be set free about halfway into the journey back to town, now holding their crestfallen silence. You suspect that the initial panic and that glimmer of hope that they'd be freed if they just plucked at Lady Almsyre's heartstrings were eventually replaced by the cold, demoralizing certainty that they are going to be seeing the inside of a prison cell for a very long time...or perhaps even executed.
You wonder if that's the "mercy of House Celestia's laws" that Lady Almsyre was talking about earlier, when you first met.
Otherwise, everyone is winding down. The sheriff has gone off with the guard captain, talking about something with grave expressions on their faces. Your squadmates unwind as they take in pitchers of water and a few snacks lying around that Aethla asked you all to help yourselves to, sitting down in seats to rest legs that have been walking around almost nonstop for a few hours in the Faulkren woodlands. It's actually almost time for lunch, in fact.
Your instructor, to her credit, waits until all of you seem like you've settled down a little before announcing: "Attention." And once attentions are indeed settled on her, she declares, "This assignment is now over. What did we learn today?"
"Peasants twitch prettily when struck by lightning," Elizabeth offers; contrary to your expectations, instead of looking viciously amused, she mostly looks bored.
"Something we've learned," Stephanie mutters, clearly not meant to be quiet enough to escape Elizabeth's hearing. Familiarity has bred a bit of complacency and familiarity with even the Zabanya heir, it seems.
But tiny elf merely smiles sweetly at your aseri roommate roommate. "Why, yes, this may surprise you, but I've never gone out of my way to electrocute peasants before."
Stephanie looks skeptical with an eyebrow raised. "You haven't?"
Elizabeth makes a show of gasping and clutching her heart in a show of mock hurt, unable to wipe the smirk from her face as she does so. "Goodness, Stephanie, what kind of monster do you take me for?"
The instructor rolls her eyes and sighs, and you quickly but reluctantly intervene by bringing up your own failings today: "O-Our signaling was...i-inadequate."
The instructor nods. "It was clever," she allows. "But it wasn't clever enough. Or perhaps you were trying to be too clever. Long-range communication has confounded some of the greatest strategists of Iuryis throughout history, especially when stealth is a factor. Of course, Lady Almsyre ordered Zabanya to signal for you, so this doesn't count entirely against you. But remember this episode today and how it factors into your missions in the future. Be cautious and have a fallback point in mind, especially if you think you still have time; or acknowledge that you may not be able to get all your chickens in a row by the time you launch your ambush, and commit to whatever plan you previously concocted. There's a fine line between considering your options and second-guessing your orders; don't fall to indecision. And on that matter: Exert your leadership." You barely manage to master a flinch; it's been hours, but you kind of saw this coming. But the instructor turns her glare to the rest of the squad. "When we were back here, all of you talked right over your squad leader as you decided how to formulate a plan." She turns to Stephanie specifically. "You were the one who suggested splitting up without consulting Neianne." Then to your elven squadmates. "And you two talked right over her."
Your squadmates exchange glances. Stephanie looks a bit awkward, at least, almost apologetic. Sieglinde's face could've been chiseled from stone. Elizabeth yawns.
"Let me remind you that you will be evaluated for squad cohesion. This includes not only your ability to follow a leader, but also your ability to lead." That last part is almost certainly directed at you, and it is said with sharp sternness that you do flinch this time. But the instructor only lets that hang in the air for a few seconds before sighing, turning to you, and allowing, "This doesn't mean that there aren't places where you did do well. The knight in the area was...unexpected, but it's good that you folded her into the mission. Or she folded you in hers." The older elf shrugged. "Whatever; they're an eccentric lot. I thought you'd only ever run into them at the Inter-Academy Tournament, but life is full of surprises."
You blink; this is news to you. "Kn-Knights are going to be at the tournament?" you ask. Your gaze turns furtively at Stephanie, who betrays nothing on her expression.
"Sometimes. Every few years, they show up as guests to spectate. For what purpose I have no idea; it's not like they're headhunting our people. Maybe they want to see what techniques used for real war actually look like." The instructor shrugs. "I digress. Back to the topic at hand. Your focus on the mission upon seeing what was meant to be a distress signal, for example, is commendable. Were you putting off assistance, or did you suspect that they were attempting to alert you to the position of the bandit camp?"
You fidget a little. "B-Both had crossed my mind," you say honestly, omitting the fact that it was honestly a pretty close call, filling you a sense of self-doubt when you did decide to take advantage of Eleanore's momentum. The urge to go to the "aid" of your squadmates was also high at the time, and you probably would never have forgiven yourself if something had happened to them, something that happened because you didn't arrive in time.
"I suspected so. Whatever your concerns, your focus on the mission is commendable. The mission," the instructor stresses, "the war is what you're here for. This is not some dainty tea party with pretty ladies. This being said, the Sheriff of Apaloft and I were present, so nothing was going to happen to Lady Zabanya and Stephanie, but do consider the worth of the objective relative to that of your squadmates. Caldran mercenaries take three years to train and even more to gain experience, you know."
The "places where you did do well" seem to be coming with a lot of critical caveats. "Was there a c-correct choice?" you mutter. It is meant to sound almost apologetic and pleading; to your mild horror, it comes off as a little bitter and begrudged.
This tone isn't missed by the instructor, but to a mixture of both terror and relief, she only raises an eyebrow. "I'd have less to say if you were behind us and had to catch up without much choice in the matter. But you were ahead of us and in a position to facilitate a flanking maneuver. I see that as more worthy of praise than having nothing to criticize about your performance."
The instructor gives the other members of the squad a bit more feedback, but you're a bit too busy mentally chastising yourself for the poor showing on your part. Yes, you succeeded...but you did so against a band of untrained, malnourished bandits. You had on your side the Sheriff of Apaloft and a knight of the Glatismant Monastery. Victory was never actually in question; your leadership was.
You were never the right choice for leading Squad Four. How could you possibly lead them into the Inter-Academy Tournament? Or lead them...anywhere, really?
When your mind focuses back on the discussion at hand, the instructor is already wrapping things up: "Our job is done here. Finish up whatever you need to, grab your stuff, report to the stables; I'll have a word with Sergeant Aethla, and then we're ride back to the Academy in five minutes."
It doesn't take long for Squad Four to leave the guardhouse after grabbing a few last sips of water and bites of food, and packing up your weapons and gear. You note sullenly that - although the situation indeed never actually called for it - you didn't actually get a chance to use your dagger. Your trials aren't going to get any easier, and relying on your first weapon, your buster sword, isn't going to cut it in the future.
Still, as you leave the guardhouse, Stephanie seems to pick up on your mood and gives you a small squeeze across the shoulder. She seems to consider something carefully before preparing to speak, but just as her lips part, a voice suddenly calls out: "Neianne."
You give a slight start, realizing as you spin around that you're being addressed Lady Almsyre. "Y-Yes, milady?" you squeak. Behind you, your squad beats a retreat to give you some space and privacy...or perhaps to free themselves of the pressure from having to address the Sheriff of Apaloft. And behind her in the distance is your instructor with Sergeant Aethla in the midst of what looks looks like a somewhat stressful discussion too far off for you to eavesdrop on.
The sheriff smiles a little at your reaction, but she sounds entirely polite when she gives a small bow of her head. "Again, I am grateful for your assistance. I know just how dire our rising crime situation is. I wish you could focus on the war without, but it seems like until you're ready to fight the Tennies, you'll have to deal with the war within."
You curtsy back before asking hesitantly, "Are we r-really that short-handed across Apaloft?"
Lady Almsyre exhales sharply. "You don't know the half of it. The worst of our people have revealed themselves boldly at our time of distress. They say it is during times of adversity that your friends and enemies are revealed. I just wish the latter didn't rank so many among us."
You fidget uncomfortably. These bandits did not strike you as ruthless cutthroats as much as they seemed like desperate, destitute women, down on their luck with little but their farming hoes and the rags on their backs. They did not fight well, carried on mostly by false bravado; although your squad was caught in the moment, and although you suppose you shouldn't have expected mercy from either Lady Almsyre or Sister Eleanore, watching them fold as they are mowed down by a group of far more skilled, more better-equipped combatants was not exactly easy to watch. So you muster your courage and whisper, "They're starving. I-I was at Council this year. A-As a guest. I know the e-economy is suffering."
Lady Almsyre seems a little surprised before her expression hardens. "Then you would also know that we are doing everything in our power to assist and provide succor to those in need. Your sympathy is admirable, but poverty does not justify banditry, much less murder. Oh, yes," she smirks mirthlessly as you betray surprise on your face, "it has happened. Not this time, perhaps, but there are already dozens dead from such crimes. Should the war go on for much longer, you'll see your share of corpses beside waylaid wagons."
You fidget again. You know this, honestly. You've always known this, with everyone in Caelon telling you so. That bandits and thieves could not be trusted, that they are not so far from worse crimes such as murder, that the full power of the law must be brought forth to crush these miscreants. But you've also been in long discussions with Sieglinde about the flaws of the Confederacy's lackluster systems, and you've seen the face of the urban poor like Wendy, whom you count as a friend. You want to believe that whatever else, the bandits you fought today are good people, simply desperate people driven too far into hardship. Hearing the Sheriff of Apaloft speak as she did - hearing someone undoubtedly with more experience on the matter than anyone else you've talked to in your life - does not and probably will never put you at ease.
But the sheriff's expression softens and she shakes her head. "This is not why I called for you. Does Faulkren still choose squad leaders for you?" And when you nod: "I take it you're a freeholder?" You nod again; your dress or your speech or your species tipped her off, it would seem. "It's no small decision, then, to have you as squad leader to both a Ravenhill and a Zabanya." She smirks. "Heirs too, if my memory serves; I've never been good with politics."
You've been with the two of them long enough that this no longer causes you to panic the way you most certainly would've a year ago, but it doesn't make you feel any better about your situation either, not when Lady Almsyre puts it like that. "Th-They are."
She nods. "You don't feel you're up to the task." This is less a question and more an observation, a statement. "This was true of me as well. My father is but a baronetess, and I grew up serving House Celestia with my peers from baronies, even viscomitals."
You get the feeling that she's genuinely trying to be encouraging, in spite of openly admitting to being minor nobility still. By this point, you're quite able to appreciate the shades of difference between one such family and another, if only through exposure. "Y-You found ways to make people respect you?" A despairing part of your mind notes that this isn't hard; she's tall and blonde and an elf, and your younger sister can credibly pretend to be taller than you.
"Respect is earned, one way or another. Getting people to take heed is easier. Most of the time, people are looking for someone who seems confident, with a reasonable plan they're willing to take responsibility for."
"Wh-What if I don't have a g-good plan?" you ask, uncertainly.
"Then pretend it's a good plan, and open the floor to discussion. If it's a bad plan, chances are that you weren't going to come up with a good one by hesitant and second-guessing yourself. You don't have anyone else gunning for your spot, do you?" And when you frantically shake your head: "Then people will forget about it half the time and just assume things were hard. Of course, you can't always rely on that; you've got to learn things, gain experience, be better. But half of leadership is just convincing everyone else that you know what you're doing. Honestly, you'll convince them a lot faster than you'll convince yourself."
"That's a relief," you mutter; the words slip so quickly out of your mouth that you're not even sure if you're being sarcastic or not.
But the sheriff just laughs, a little surprised at your tone but not particularly displeased. "In your case, having heiriesses from such important families willing to really follow your directions will tell people you're someone to listen to, at least."
"If they remember I'm suppose to be in charge," you say, still a little dispirited.
"They won't remember if you don't."
You flinch slightly, but that seems to cut straight to the heart of it. For all their eccentricities, your squadmates like you, and none of them actually want to undermine you, you're sure. But if you want them to look to you as someone who makes decisions, it's going to take you putting yourself in that position before stronger personalities decide for you. The thought makes your stomach cramp. "I'll r-remember that," you murmur, shoulders slumping.
She pats you on the shoulder, already on her way out. "It's important that you do," she agrees. That seems to be it, at least until she pauses for a moment and turns back around to face you a little. "I've seen my share of privileged, difficult colleagues, you know. And I know both Houses Ravenhill and Zabanya. I never would've expected their girls to be following a dryad freeholder." She gives you another smirk as she turns around and leaves to whatever job she has next, giving a carefree wave of parting over her shoulder. "You've got something working for you. Don't forget that either."
The Academy is largely empty when you return, lock the horses back in their stables, grab a few bites from some food they've laid out in the Great Hall, return to your dorm rooms, bathe to wash all the grime off, and then return to your dorm rooms once more. It probably isn't all that surprising; between Sieglinde and Lady Almsyre, you did track down the bandits fairly quickly. And the assignments the other squads have been tasked with seem more like time-consuming drudge work. Yours wasn't precisely exciting, given the lack of any real opposition you've had to face, but at least it was something. It was helping the local guard, who no longer even hard the resources and people to deal with this kind of thing.
You're not sure whether that's supposed to cheer you up or depress you further.
The day eventually passes uneventfully, as the slow trickle of apprentices return to the Academy. Stories are shared, some relatively humorous, others mind-numbingly boring. You don't pay too much attention to them, lost in your thoughts as you are. You think about your performance in this morning's assignment. You think about the instructor telling you that sometimes you just need to commit to a tactical decision. You think about Lady Sigrid Rossfeldt Almsyre telling you that sometimes you just need to come up with a plan to make it look like you have one while keeping your mind open to ideas. You think about the divided state of Squad Four, how much friction there is over something as simple as whether or not to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
By the time night falls, by the time you and Stephanie prepare for bed, you have come to a decision: Squad Four will participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament. It doesn't matter if Squad Four isn't entirely cohesive yet and today's assignment didn't give you a chance to change that. You're squad leader, you need to make a decision that everyone else follows. You're making it now: All of you need to go through this the hard way, even if - as your buster sword instructor warned you - all that awaits you is humiliation before crowds at the hands of a noblelady who has been training for this all her life.
It's probably stupid. You'll maybe regret this. You're doing it anyways.
This decision isn't made in a vacuum; you have something else on your mind. The last time you tried to broach the subject of the strange abilities you witnessed from Staphenie, she was not particularly appreciative of anything but your eventual silence. You didn't know back then, though. Now, watching her brush each of her pointy, black ears in turn, you wonder if there's profit in letting on that you know what the big secret is. This has been an underlying source of friction for a long time. And now that you're committing Squad Four to the tournament, maybe her cards need to be out in the open. Maybe you need to press her with your newfound knowledge of who she really might be.
You're squad leader. You need to make sure your squad is on board. And Stephanie is that final hurdle.
[x] Do not press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
[x] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
See Also:
Interlude 6: Circumstances Have Changed
An interlude is going to happen before the next proper update that I think you'll find interesting. After that, it's Inter-Academy Tournament go.
[x] Take advantage of Eleanore's momentum as a knight, and use her as the bulwark for a devastating frontal attack.
Standing up, you are about to follow Eleanore into the fray when a thought occurs to you. Looking at Sieglinde awkwardly for a moment, you whisper with a mix of urgency and sheepishness, "Sh-Should we offer them a chance to surrender?"
The tall elf swirls her glaive into a combat posture. "You're squad leader," she says simply.
Gulping and steeling your nerves - because somehow trying to offer a surrender is more intimidating a prospect than killing them - you jump out into the clearing with your sword drawn from your back. Never mind that Eleanore has already charged ahead in combat, never mind that the bandits in question - now realizing that they are not alone - don't seem to be able to decide whether they should be looking at you or the knight closer to them; you nonetheless cry out, "We're C-Caldran mercenary apprentices from F-Faulkren Academy! L-Lay down your swords and s-surrender!
You are aware that you're tiny, your voice is squeaky, you're stuttering, and you're otherwise not being a very convincing offerer of surrender. Yet somehow, at least a fourth of these bandits take one look at you and suddenly start screaming and running in the opposite direction.
Why does this always happen? you wonder helplessly as you wave your buster sword around.
The leader of the bandits screams for her fellow cutthroats to stand their ground - that there's only three of them, that they can take these whelps with but a dozen - but she doesn't have time to actually stop these retreating compatriots before Eleanore is upon them.
It helps that these bandits are untrained, unaccustomed to the rigors of combat. It is entirely possible that they have gotten as far as they have through the use of intimidation as opposed to the martial arts. But in spite of such a discrepancy in training, in skills, it is still almost mesmerizing to watch the knight advance with her longsword, her elegant movements almost dance-like despite the minimalist sweeping steps forward, her sword held at a consistent forty-five degree forward that deceptively looks almost like the most basic of stances taught to the greenest of pupils.
But nothing about her fighting is green. Four bandits advance with hoes and plows and scythes, their "weapons" clearly not meant for war but still with a significant reach over Eleanore's sword. Still, she has a much better understanding of reach than her opponents. She slips between one opponent and then the other, deflecting blows here and slipping under someone else's guard there; one bandit assumes that Eleanore is still outside the range of her hoe, but the knight knows better as she slips in just within attack range, and with the slash of a sword, the bandit's throat is slit open, and she crumples, gurgling blood from the gash in her neck. As you charge and watch, you also realize that Eleanore's parries are directed at a very specific point within the wooden hafts of the weapons directed towards her; repeated blows from metal onto wood eventually splinters wood, and causes the metallic ends of rakes and hoes and scythes to fly uselessly off wooden rods.
But the rest advance on Eleanore - the remaining four of them, even as the leader of the pack barely manages to get the remaining three to stop fleeing - and there is a moment where you wonder if that is too much for even Eleanore, at least had two things not happened.
First is that although she was several steps behind Eleanore, Sieglinde has not taken long to join the fray. And relative to their farming implements, Sieglinde's is a proper polearm, a glaive that outranges her opponents, and it doesn't take long for her to start carving through the opposition with her usual whirlwind of thrusts and strikes and swings.
But second is that Eleanore's longsword begins to crackle with lightning.
The blade has gone from plain steel to glowing a faint purplish-blue. With a swing, jagged lines of line arc out; they don't go terribly far, but they're just enough to strike a bandit just close enough, sending her into convulsing spasms, even as bolts of lightning jump from her to two others of her number, resulting in the same symptoms. With the three opponents closest to her incapacitated by electricity locking up their muscles, it is all too easy for Eleanore to behead two of them before thrusting her blade into the third's chest.
You've seen that somewhere before. Not lightning, precisely. But even if it takes a different form, the core is the same; you can feel it. If lightning magecraft conjures mana that creates a simulacrum of electric bolts, then this is even more of a simulacrum: A manifestation of something else entirely, merely taking the disguise of lightning for itself. And this only serves to remind you of that night half a year ago, that night when the Squirrels came to Faulkren, that night when a simulacrum of fire engulfed a katana that defeated a frenzied direwolf.
Stephanie's katana. Stephanie has the same skillset as Eleanore.
Stephanie - you are now certain - has that arcane ability of Caldrein's knights.
But you shelve that thought away for the moment. You are slower than both Eleanore and Sieglinde, but not by that much, and the distance to cover is not that great. Your charge is accompanied with a great heave of your buster sword at the three bandits in front of you, albeit you lead with the flat of the blade. Eleanore may have little aversion to spilling blood, but you'd be happy to accept a surrender; besides, the flat of your blade is no small thing, and there's no guarantee anyone struck will survive it.
You catch only the first bandit with your greatsword's arc, sending her flying as you hear an uncomfortable crunching sound, like clay being pulverized into dust; the other two scatter on all fours, screaming in panicked fear as they abandon their weapons and - regardless of the cursing and swearing from their leader - attempt to flee desperately into the woods. Absurdly, you almost feel cheated out of a proper fight, but swiftly catch yourself. Your objective has always been to neutralize, not kill. It's why you demanded a surrender in the first place. Besides, you almost certainly pity them. You've dealt with wyverns and direwolves and Tennie assassins. What chance did malnourished farmers ever have with you? Of course they were going to run.
But their flight sends them into new figures suddenly appearing from the foliage, half a dozen of those ill-dressed, lean-looking bandits, also running and screaming, the two waves of escapees almost crashing into each other. You are at first alarmed; is this a returning patrol? Reinforcements? Strangely, you don't doubt that - between you and Sieglinde and Eleanore - you'd be able to defeat them, your confidence almost bordering on arrogance, but more than that, you wonder why they're panicking, why they're fleeing towards you and Sieglinde and Eleanore instead of away.
Then a bolt of lightning hurtles down, and an explosion tears through the middle of the mess of bandits, sending five of them screaming and tumbling through the air before they land unceremoniously into the dirt, their bodies limp and twitching, ignored by the two swordswomen who emerge from the dust and ash with blades blazing.
In the excitement of it all, you forgot about Stephanie and Elizabeth.
Your roommate is already charging in with that deadly aseri speed, her katana whipping left and right as she charges through the opposition. She does not strike with the flat of her blade - she does not need to - but for the most part, the cuts from her katana are not so deep that they are meant to kill, only to maim and decapacitate. Not that she is perfect about this, not with what has now become somewhere around twenty different combatants moving around, not with Sieglinde's glaive and Elizabeth's lightning bolts and your own buster sword flying about. Closer to the center, a second swordswoman contends with three bandits at once with seeming ease, and further off in the corner, you spot Eleanore dueling with the seeming leader of the group. Although calling it a duel seems like an insult to the knight in question; a more proper term would perhaps be "execution".
The bandit leader sees death approaching, rapidly backpedaling as she is stuck between figuring out whether to run or at least try to harry this closing knight to give herself an opening to flee, attempting a tactical retreat, refusing to turn her back on the enemy like a trained soldier. To her credit, as Eleanore's longsword flares with bolts of electricity once, the bandit has the sense to throw her rusty iron shield at her, warding away the lightning that arcs out with the knight's swing of the sword. But Eleanore closes with all the certainty of a casual stride, rapidly closing the distance between her and her opponent. The bandit jumps backward desperately, thrusting out her spear towards Eleanore as she does so in an attempt to ward off the knight's approach...
The two combatants momentarily disappear from your field of vision as they move behind a large tree, but it's only a moment later that the bandit's body falls limply to the ground sans head.
The pincer is moreorless a success. You suppose that on a tactical level, you've caught these bandits at an excessive disadvantage in training, skills, equipment, and positioning. The downside is that such a lopsided fight provides little in the way of providing incentives for Squad Four to get into formation, to fight together instead of individually; against these combatants who were likely only farmers weeks or months ago, there is simply no need.
The opportunity ultimately doesn't present itself either, as the remaining bandits still on their feet - those who haven't fled, those who aren't dead, those who aren't incapacitated on the ground - drop their weapons and fall to their knees. It doesn't happen all at once, but in a cascade, as the first sees how the cards have landed and submits herself, followed by half a dozen others who see this and drop to their knees one by one. "Enough!" one cries amidst the cacophony of please. "Please, enough, we yield, we yield! Please don't kill us!"
And just like that, the whole ordeal is over. The banditry lies dead, wounded, helpless, and scattered before you. A bit more than a third of them are dead. A bit more than a third have laid down their arms. The rest have fled...and as you catch your breath, you realize you don't have the heart to give chase. What you have done here is enough. You may be wrong - you're young and inexperienced in such matters - but you don't think those who have fled will be returning to banditry anytime soon, not after the beating you've just given them. They've learned the hard way what happens to those who fall on the wrong side of the law.
Taking a deep breath, you realize that you're not quite as winded as you may have initially thought. All told, as your squad calms down but remains vigilant, the skirmish lasted only a minute, if not less. It really was less a "fight" and more an ambush, and it's hard to break a sweat against such untrained opponents. This is not exactly unexpected, but it's still a little surprising; you probably would've run screaming from bandits but a year ago. But then again, you've been through far worse, spending an entire night warring with Tenerian assassins and their direwolves. By contrast, this is almost insultingly easy.
Sieglinde lowers the tip of her spear as she rises from a combat stance and looks on impassively at those who have yielded to her. The instructor that has accompanied your squad from Faulkren to evaluate your performance emerges from the treeline with watchful eyes. Eleanore has disappeared from your sight. You spot Stephanie disappear behind the treeline as Elizabeth approaches from the same direction. The elf stops amid several bandits, their fallen forms twitching and giving off the occasional jagged spark. Lazy gold eyes flick up to acknowledge you before returning to the body immediately at her feet. Lifting a dainty boot, she gives the bandit a sharp, experimental nudge. The woman groans, almost a whimper. "You were ahead of us, I see," Elizabeth observes. Then she nudges the body in the mud again.
"I...d-don't think she's dead," you mumble, wincing a bit with every prod your squadmate delivers with her boot. You've never been on the receiving end of Elizabeth's magecraft - at least when she's actually intending to harm, her zapping you for waking her up in her bedroom doesn't count - but you've seen multiple people who have; it never stops looking painful.
"Is that so?" shrugs Elizabeth noncommittally. "A pity." She doesn't seem to be disappointed either way.
You're glad you spotted the tail end of Stephanie - literally - or else you would've been worried about the state of the other half of Squad Four, seeing how Elizabeth sent up a lightning signal earlier. They certainly made it over here swiftly enough and without much of a problem, but you still want to make sure they're all alright. "Where's Stephanie?"
"She says she wants to check the area and make sure no one else is sneaking on us." Elizabeth scoffs a little. "You'd think the other patrols have run off already, but..." then she shrugs, "...well, I suppose it gives her something to do."
It's certainly a fine precaution, although with Stephanie heading back the way she came earlier in that flanking maneuver, you can't help but wonder if she's heading in the wrong direction. "W-Were you in trouble? I s-saw your lightning. W-We were going to rush over as soon as w-we finished off here."
"Hm?" blinks Elizabeth in mild confusion before lazily waving off your concern. "No, don't be silly. We found the main camp and wanted to alert you and Ravenhill to their position."
You blink pathetically and barely manage to mouth "oh". You suppose you shouldn't have been surprised in the first place, what with Stephanie and Elizabeth and the Faulkren instructor against a gaggle of untrained peasants-turned-bandits. A bit more pertinent to your concerns, however, is how limited your attempts to signal each other are in hindsight. It's well and good that you previously set up a danger signal - something perhaps more worthy of attention than signaling an impending fight against bandits who are clearly not a match for your squad - but had the circumstances been different, had you and Sieglinde and Eleanore been nowhere near Elizabeth's signal, then this whole endeavor at long-range communication might've very well been useless. Nervously, you glance over at the evaluating instructor who still stands at a distance, wondering if she will mark you unfavorably for this.
But amidst all this thought, there is one detail you forgot about, something you are quickly reminded of as an elven woman steps forth, that second swordswoman who arrived alongside Stephanie and Elizabeth, an approaching woman who announces in a sonorous voice: "Don't be too hard on yourself. I asked Lady Zabanya to signal you."
Eyes wide, it takes you only a split-second to step into a curtsy: "Lady Almsyre." Now face-to-face with the Sheriff of Apaloft, the legendary arm of Apaloftian law is everything you expected her to be. Tall and handsome, Sigrid Rossfeldt Almsyre has the air of casual confidence that you've always associated her rumors with, dressed impeccably in high-quality riding clothes, complete with a thick leather cloak that shields her from what rain makes it past the foliage above, coated with a bit of mud at the hem yet still flattering on her. It's hard to tell with elves, but she has the look that would correspond with being in their late twenties or early thirties by aseri and human reckoning. Luxurious locks of blond hair flow down to her waist, her longsword held professionally in a gloved hand, her slight smile carrying the unmistakable ghost of pride, but not unkind when turned upon you. You can't shake the impression that this is the kind of woman that Aphelia wants to grow up to be.
Giving her surroundings a quick appraising glance - it's clear that she did so when hostilities ended, but she's doing so now again - she looks to you and Sieglinde and nods with approval. "You must be the other half of Squad Four, making short work of these cutthroats. Well done." She swivels her gaze solidly to you, her hands pulling several coils of ropes from her sidebag and commanding, "You, stand guard for me. They should be little problem now, but there's no being too careful."
"Yes, Lady Almsyre," you bow your head, following the sheriff.
"Just stand in front of them," Lady Almsyre instructs as she drops to a knee behind the bandits and begins to bind the wrists and arms of each one. "Keep your sword against the ground, and cut down any who attempt to flee."
"Mercy, milady!" cries one of the bandits as the group begins pleading once more, as the sheriff begins to restrain them one by one, preventing them from fighting back or fleeing.
"We didn't mean to!" sobs another. "Our...our families were starving! And Megan told us to follow her!" The tilt of her head in the direction of that headless spearswoman suggests that Megan is - was - the leader of their group. "We didn't know this is what we'd be doing!"
This begging from adult women strikes a very uncomfortable chord in your heartstrings, as you watch these people - bandits, yes, but people nonetheless - desperately plead for their lives. Lady Almsyre, however, pays them absolutely no heed; in fact, she begins to strike up a conversation with you above the begging even as she busies herself with restraining these bandits. "It is a tragic state of affairs that we must have our children uphold the law for us," says she, "but I am not so proud that I won't turn down good help. These whores are not worthy of your attention," she ties down the final bandit before rising to her feet and giving that bandit a kick to the back - not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to send the woman tumbling face-first into the dirt - before turning back to you with a rueful smile, "but there's too many of them these days, and our numbers sadly do not keep pace with our skill. You've done well."
With all the bandits bound, you heave a sigh of relief and strap your buster sword back onto your back. "It's our honor, milady," you bow. "Did you come with L-Lady Zabanya and Stephanie?"
"That I did. They met up with me at the scene of the crime, and performed admirably under my command up this point. You and your squad have done well and have my thanks." Her gaze swivels toward Sieglinde. "They have certainly spoken well enough of their squad leader, Neianne."
An awkward moment passes with you and Sieglinde exchanging awkward glances before she turns to Lady Almsyre and introduces herself with just a hint of dryness in her tone: "I am Sieglinde Corrina Ravehill of Arcaster." She gestures to you. "She is Neianne."
The sheriff blinks, masking her surprise. "Ah." She then gives a small bow of her head in respect; you suppose that although Lady Almsyre is older, she comes from a smaller house compared to the Ravenhills. "Well met, Lady Ravenhill." She then turns to you and gives you a small smile that you can't help but think is not unlike that of a teacher to a student, putting you on the spot. "So you are their squad leader."
"J-Just for our studies at Faulkren, m-milady," you stammer and find yourself curtsying again. "I-I'm Neianne of C-Caelon."
"Caelon?" echoes Lady Almsyre with what is almost certainly a tiny hint of amusement in her voice. "Well it appears you're doing a good job tracking down these miscreants. Faster and ahead of me too, despite it being my job." She smirks approvingly. "That's no small feat."
"Th-That's Sieg..." you start before catching yourself; a more formal form of address is perhaps better in front of another highborn you're not familiar with. "L-Lady Ravenhill is the one who was tracking them, milady."
"Oh? And here I thought it would be the dryad who would be following her prey in these woods."
Fidgeting a little awkwardly, you feel the need to change the subject - there's something about this line of conversation that makes you feel a bit off - as you look back at the bandits around you - those restrained, those dead - and murmur, "Wh-What will happen to them?"
The easy smile that Lady Almsyre has on her lips flickers just a bit, and her next words sound almost a little impassive and deliberately neutral: "Whatever says the mercy of House Celestia's laws."
You fidget nervously, uncomfortably. "Wh-What does the mercy of H-House Celestia's laws say?"
For just a moment, the Sheriff of Apaloft's gaze upon you changes, and you barely manage to master a flinch, at that one moment where her look suddenly seems displeased, annoyed, disdainful. But it doesn't last: She suddenly swivels towards someone suddenly emerging from the trees, her hand suddenly on the hilt of her sword, but she stops herself from drawing as she realizes that this is not bandit, not with how well Eleanore is dressed, her longsword sheathed at her side and now slinging another sword across her shoulder, a sword that you can just barely tell is made of that prohibitively expensive blue metal, an azurite blade.
Still, Lady Almsyre's hand does not entirely leave her sword as she asks, "And you are...?"
The knight sounds almost bored as she replies, "Eleanore of the Glatismant Monastery."
Noting the sheriff's confused look, you quickly explained, "S-Sister Eleanore was with us and h-helped us fight the bandits."
"Ah," Lady Almsyre says flatly, her eyes narrowing a little. There's something very guarded in her body language and tone as she removes her hand from the hilt of her sword, almost as if she's trying hard to master some emotion. "I see you've come to our assistance, sister. That is most surprising."
"I did not come to assist," Eleanore states so bluntly that your stomach drops as the Sheriff of Apaloft glares at her harder. The knight pats the sword strapped across her shoulder once: "They stole this sword. I've come to take it back." She paused before - almost as an afterthought - nodded in recognition towards you and Sieglinde. "These apprentices assisted me."
"I see," sighs the sheriff, closing her eyes as if mustering the patience to not throttle Eleanore. It's a very tense, awkward moment. "Well, you have your sword now." Her tone is clearly sour. "I suppose you'll be off?"
"I will," nods the knight, seemingly oblivious to Lady Almsyre's annoyance, or at least why she was annoyed. With all the mannerisms of passing a stranger on the road, Eleanore turns to leave, and as abrupt as it is, you are almost certain that that will be that...until the knight suddenly stops in her tracks for a second, hesitates, and turns around to look at you and Sieglinde. "Thank you, Neianne, Ravenhill," she says, bowing with a touch of awkwardness; you get the feeling that she doesn't do that much with outsiders. "May we meet again."
Sieglinde nods to her without speaking, so you pick up the slack as you bow and stammer, "M-May we meet again." And so Eleanore turns and leaves, walking with her two swords into the woods. For a moment, you think about calling out to her and asking if she even knows where she's going - she's going in a direction that's very decidedly not towards either Faulkren or her destination of Glendina Monastery - but you ultimately decide against it. Now is perhaps not the best time to embarrass her in front of a crowd. So you watch her back disappear amidst the thicket of trees before remaking with a small smile, "She's...a l-little strange."
But Lady Almsyre does not share your opinion, and her scowl catches you a little off-guard: "She's useless. A warrior who cares more about a sword than a cause. What good is a sword if it will not be drawn in defense of the innocent?"
Her response makes you uncomfortable. It's not that you disagree with her, exactly; ultimately, you love Caldrein and wish that everyone who is able would take up arms to defend the Confederacy against the Tenny aggressors. At the same time, though, for all that Eleanore is strange to you, you don't dislike her. Besides, Caldrein doesn't have conscription; that would make you no better than the Tennies you're fighting; if the Confederacy does not force its people to fight, then should someone who does not volunteer be compelled to do so? Should Eleanore's right to be left in peace be respected, even as the Confederacy is mired in dire straits?
But perhaps this is not the time nor place for such questions. Emerging from the trees, Stephanie marches up towards you and the Sheriff of Apaloft, giving her surroundings one more wary glance before announcing, "I've finished scouting the area. If there were any other patrols, they've probably long fled by now."
Lady Almsyre nods, giving this a moment of thought before deciding, "Very well. Let's return to town then. We'll sort the rest out there."
"Lock them up. I'll have them dealt with later."
On the Sheriff of Apaloft's orders, the local guard lead the bandits into prison cells just next to the guardhouse back in town. Of course, those present include only Sergeant Aethla - who looks much relieved at your return and the success of your mission - and a girl looking one or two years younger than you in ill-fitting old armor - who looks very scared and confused. Is she actually a real guard, a real hire, or perhaps just a stablehand dressed as a guard to project the impression of an actual guard presence in town? Somehow, moreso than just the lonely sight of Sergeant Aethla in the guardhouse, this drives home just how thinly stretched the guard is.
The rain largely stopped just as you passed through the town gates of Faulkren, shrinking to a largely imperceptible drizzle, as if the weather itself is playing a cruel joke on the bandits who were cloakless and were forced to trudge through the mud. They stopped pleading and begging to be set free about halfway into the journey back to town, now holding their crestfallen silence. You suspect that the initial panic and that glimmer of hope that they'd be freed if they just plucked at Lady Almsyre's heartstrings were eventually replaced by the cold, demoralizing certainty that they are going to be seeing the inside of a prison cell for a very long time...or perhaps even executed.
You wonder if that's the "mercy of House Celestia's laws" that Lady Almsyre was talking about earlier, when you first met.
Otherwise, everyone is winding down. The sheriff has gone off with the guard captain, talking about something with grave expressions on their faces. Your squadmates unwind as they take in pitchers of water and a few snacks lying around that Aethla asked you all to help yourselves to, sitting down in seats to rest legs that have been walking around almost nonstop for a few hours in the Faulkren woodlands. It's actually almost time for lunch, in fact.
Your instructor, to her credit, waits until all of you seem like you've settled down a little before announcing: "Attention." And once attentions are indeed settled on her, she declares, "This assignment is now over. What did we learn today?"
"Peasants twitch prettily when struck by lightning," Elizabeth offers; contrary to your expectations, instead of looking viciously amused, she mostly looks bored.
"Something we've learned," Stephanie mutters, clearly not meant to be quiet enough to escape Elizabeth's hearing. Familiarity has bred a bit of complacency and familiarity with even the Zabanya heir, it seems.
But tiny elf merely smiles sweetly at your aseri roommate roommate. "Why, yes, this may surprise you, but I've never gone out of my way to electrocute peasants before."
Stephanie looks skeptical with an eyebrow raised. "You haven't?"
Elizabeth makes a show of gasping and clutching her heart in a show of mock hurt, unable to wipe the smirk from her face as she does so. "Goodness, Stephanie, what kind of monster do you take me for?"
The instructor rolls her eyes and sighs, and you quickly but reluctantly intervene by bringing up your own failings today: "O-Our signaling was...i-inadequate."
The instructor nods. "It was clever," she allows. "But it wasn't clever enough. Or perhaps you were trying to be too clever. Long-range communication has confounded some of the greatest strategists of Iuryis throughout history, especially when stealth is a factor. Of course, Lady Almsyre ordered Zabanya to signal for you, so this doesn't count entirely against you. But remember this episode today and how it factors into your missions in the future. Be cautious and have a fallback point in mind, especially if you think you still have time; or acknowledge that you may not be able to get all your chickens in a row by the time you launch your ambush, and commit to whatever plan you previously concocted. There's a fine line between considering your options and second-guessing your orders; don't fall to indecision. And on that matter: Exert your leadership." You barely manage to master a flinch; it's been hours, but you kind of saw this coming. But the instructor turns her glare to the rest of the squad. "When we were back here, all of you talked right over your squad leader as you decided how to formulate a plan." She turns to Stephanie specifically. "You were the one who suggested splitting up without consulting Neianne." Then to your elven squadmates. "And you two talked right over her."
Your squadmates exchange glances. Stephanie looks a bit awkward, at least, almost apologetic. Sieglinde's face could've been chiseled from stone. Elizabeth yawns.
"Let me remind you that you will be evaluated for squad cohesion. This includes not only your ability to follow a leader, but also your ability to lead." That last part is almost certainly directed at you, and it is said with sharp sternness that you do flinch this time. But the instructor only lets that hang in the air for a few seconds before sighing, turning to you, and allowing, "This doesn't mean that there aren't places where you did do well. The knight in the area was...unexpected, but it's good that you folded her into the mission. Or she folded you in hers." The older elf shrugged. "Whatever; they're an eccentric lot. I thought you'd only ever run into them at the Inter-Academy Tournament, but life is full of surprises."
You blink; this is news to you. "Kn-Knights are going to be at the tournament?" you ask. Your gaze turns furtively at Stephanie, who betrays nothing on her expression.
"Sometimes. Every few years, they show up as guests to spectate. For what purpose I have no idea; it's not like they're headhunting our people. Maybe they want to see what techniques used for real war actually look like." The instructor shrugs. "I digress. Back to the topic at hand. Your focus on the mission upon seeing what was meant to be a distress signal, for example, is commendable. Were you putting off assistance, or did you suspect that they were attempting to alert you to the position of the bandit camp?"
You fidget a little. "B-Both had crossed my mind," you say honestly, omitting the fact that it was honestly a pretty close call, filling you a sense of self-doubt when you did decide to take advantage of Eleanore's momentum. The urge to go to the "aid" of your squadmates was also high at the time, and you probably would never have forgiven yourself if something had happened to them, something that happened because you didn't arrive in time.
"I suspected so. Whatever your concerns, your focus on the mission is commendable. The mission," the instructor stresses, "the war is what you're here for. This is not some dainty tea party with pretty ladies. This being said, the Sheriff of Apaloft and I were present, so nothing was going to happen to Lady Zabanya and Stephanie, but do consider the worth of the objective relative to that of your squadmates. Caldran mercenaries take three years to train and even more to gain experience, you know."
The "places where you did do well" seem to be coming with a lot of critical caveats. "Was there a c-correct choice?" you mutter. It is meant to sound almost apologetic and pleading; to your mild horror, it comes off as a little bitter and begrudged.
This tone isn't missed by the instructor, but to a mixture of both terror and relief, she only raises an eyebrow. "I'd have less to say if you were behind us and had to catch up without much choice in the matter. But you were ahead of us and in a position to facilitate a flanking maneuver. I see that as more worthy of praise than having nothing to criticize about your performance."
The instructor gives the other members of the squad a bit more feedback, but you're a bit too busy mentally chastising yourself for the poor showing on your part. Yes, you succeeded...but you did so against a band of untrained, malnourished bandits. You had on your side the Sheriff of Apaloft and a knight of the Glatismant Monastery. Victory was never actually in question; your leadership was.
You were never the right choice for leading Squad Four. How could you possibly lead them into the Inter-Academy Tournament? Or lead them...anywhere, really?
When your mind focuses back on the discussion at hand, the instructor is already wrapping things up: "Our job is done here. Finish up whatever you need to, grab your stuff, report to the stables; I'll have a word with Sergeant Aethla, and then we're ride back to the Academy in five minutes."
It doesn't take long for Squad Four to leave the guardhouse after grabbing a few last sips of water and bites of food, and packing up your weapons and gear. You note sullenly that - although the situation indeed never actually called for it - you didn't actually get a chance to use your dagger. Your trials aren't going to get any easier, and relying on your first weapon, your buster sword, isn't going to cut it in the future.
Still, as you leave the guardhouse, Stephanie seems to pick up on your mood and gives you a small squeeze across the shoulder. She seems to consider something carefully before preparing to speak, but just as her lips part, a voice suddenly calls out: "Neianne."
You give a slight start, realizing as you spin around that you're being addressed Lady Almsyre. "Y-Yes, milady?" you squeak. Behind you, your squad beats a retreat to give you some space and privacy...or perhaps to free themselves of the pressure from having to address the Sheriff of Apaloft. And behind her in the distance is your instructor with Sergeant Aethla in the midst of what looks looks like a somewhat stressful discussion too far off for you to eavesdrop on.
The sheriff smiles a little at your reaction, but she sounds entirely polite when she gives a small bow of her head. "Again, I am grateful for your assistance. I know just how dire our rising crime situation is. I wish you could focus on the war without, but it seems like until you're ready to fight the Tennies, you'll have to deal with the war within."
You curtsy back before asking hesitantly, "Are we r-really that short-handed across Apaloft?"
Lady Almsyre exhales sharply. "You don't know the half of it. The worst of our people have revealed themselves boldly at our time of distress. They say it is during times of adversity that your friends and enemies are revealed. I just wish the latter didn't rank so many among us."
You fidget uncomfortably. These bandits did not strike you as ruthless cutthroats as much as they seemed like desperate, destitute women, down on their luck with little but their farming hoes and the rags on their backs. They did not fight well, carried on mostly by false bravado; although your squad was caught in the moment, and although you suppose you shouldn't have expected mercy from either Lady Almsyre or Sister Eleanore, watching them fold as they are mowed down by a group of far more skilled, more better-equipped combatants was not exactly easy to watch. So you muster your courage and whisper, "They're starving. I-I was at Council this year. A-As a guest. I know the e-economy is suffering."
Lady Almsyre seems a little surprised before her expression hardens. "Then you would also know that we are doing everything in our power to assist and provide succor to those in need. Your sympathy is admirable, but poverty does not justify banditry, much less murder. Oh, yes," she smirks mirthlessly as you betray surprise on your face, "it has happened. Not this time, perhaps, but there are already dozens dead from such crimes. Should the war go on for much longer, you'll see your share of corpses beside waylaid wagons."
You fidget again. You know this, honestly. You've always known this, with everyone in Caelon telling you so. That bandits and thieves could not be trusted, that they are not so far from worse crimes such as murder, that the full power of the law must be brought forth to crush these miscreants. But you've also been in long discussions with Sieglinde about the flaws of the Confederacy's lackluster systems, and you've seen the face of the urban poor like Wendy, whom you count as a friend. You want to believe that whatever else, the bandits you fought today are good people, simply desperate people driven too far into hardship. Hearing the Sheriff of Apaloft speak as she did - hearing someone undoubtedly with more experience on the matter than anyone else you've talked to in your life - does not and probably will never put you at ease.
But the sheriff's expression softens and she shakes her head. "This is not why I called for you. Does Faulkren still choose squad leaders for you?" And when you nod: "I take it you're a freeholder?" You nod again; your dress or your speech or your species tipped her off, it would seem. "It's no small decision, then, to have you as squad leader to both a Ravenhill and a Zabanya." She smirks. "Heirs too, if my memory serves; I've never been good with politics."
You've been with the two of them long enough that this no longer causes you to panic the way you most certainly would've a year ago, but it doesn't make you feel any better about your situation either, not when Lady Almsyre puts it like that. "Th-They are."
She nods. "You don't feel you're up to the task." This is less a question and more an observation, a statement. "This was true of me as well. My father is but a baronetess, and I grew up serving House Celestia with my peers from baronies, even viscomitals."
You get the feeling that she's genuinely trying to be encouraging, in spite of openly admitting to being minor nobility still. By this point, you're quite able to appreciate the shades of difference between one such family and another, if only through exposure. "Y-You found ways to make people respect you?" A despairing part of your mind notes that this isn't hard; she's tall and blonde and an elf, and your younger sister can credibly pretend to be taller than you.
"Respect is earned, one way or another. Getting people to take heed is easier. Most of the time, people are looking for someone who seems confident, with a reasonable plan they're willing to take responsibility for."
"Wh-What if I don't have a g-good plan?" you ask, uncertainly.
"Then pretend it's a good plan, and open the floor to discussion. If it's a bad plan, chances are that you weren't going to come up with a good one by hesitant and second-guessing yourself. You don't have anyone else gunning for your spot, do you?" And when you frantically shake your head: "Then people will forget about it half the time and just assume things were hard. Of course, you can't always rely on that; you've got to learn things, gain experience, be better. But half of leadership is just convincing everyone else that you know what you're doing. Honestly, you'll convince them a lot faster than you'll convince yourself."
"That's a relief," you mutter; the words slip so quickly out of your mouth that you're not even sure if you're being sarcastic or not.
But the sheriff just laughs, a little surprised at your tone but not particularly displeased. "In your case, having heiriesses from such important families willing to really follow your directions will tell people you're someone to listen to, at least."
"If they remember I'm suppose to be in charge," you say, still a little dispirited.
"They won't remember if you don't."
You flinch slightly, but that seems to cut straight to the heart of it. For all their eccentricities, your squadmates like you, and none of them actually want to undermine you, you're sure. But if you want them to look to you as someone who makes decisions, it's going to take you putting yourself in that position before stronger personalities decide for you. The thought makes your stomach cramp. "I'll r-remember that," you murmur, shoulders slumping.
She pats you on the shoulder, already on her way out. "It's important that you do," she agrees. That seems to be it, at least until she pauses for a moment and turns back around to face you a little. "I've seen my share of privileged, difficult colleagues, you know. And I know both Houses Ravenhill and Zabanya. I never would've expected their girls to be following a dryad freeholder." She gives you another smirk as she turns around and leaves to whatever job she has next, giving a carefree wave of parting over her shoulder. "You've got something working for you. Don't forget that either."
The Academy is largely empty when you return, lock the horses back in their stables, grab a few bites from some food they've laid out in the Great Hall, return to your dorm rooms, bathe to wash all the grime off, and then return to your dorm rooms once more. It probably isn't all that surprising; between Sieglinde and Lady Almsyre, you did track down the bandits fairly quickly. And the assignments the other squads have been tasked with seem more like time-consuming drudge work. Yours wasn't precisely exciting, given the lack of any real opposition you've had to face, but at least it was something. It was helping the local guard, who no longer even hard the resources and people to deal with this kind of thing.
You're not sure whether that's supposed to cheer you up or depress you further.
The day eventually passes uneventfully, as the slow trickle of apprentices return to the Academy. Stories are shared, some relatively humorous, others mind-numbingly boring. You don't pay too much attention to them, lost in your thoughts as you are. You think about your performance in this morning's assignment. You think about the instructor telling you that sometimes you just need to commit to a tactical decision. You think about Lady Sigrid Rossfeldt Almsyre telling you that sometimes you just need to come up with a plan to make it look like you have one while keeping your mind open to ideas. You think about the divided state of Squad Four, how much friction there is over something as simple as whether or not to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
By the time night falls, by the time you and Stephanie prepare for bed, you have come to a decision: Squad Four will participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament. It doesn't matter if Squad Four isn't entirely cohesive yet and today's assignment didn't give you a chance to change that. You're squad leader, you need to make a decision that everyone else follows. You're making it now: All of you need to go through this the hard way, even if - as your buster sword instructor warned you - all that awaits you is humiliation before crowds at the hands of a noblelady who has been training for this all her life.
It's probably stupid. You'll maybe regret this. You're doing it anyways.
This decision isn't made in a vacuum; you have something else on your mind. The last time you tried to broach the subject of the strange abilities you witnessed from Staphenie, she was not particularly appreciative of anything but your eventual silence. You didn't know back then, though. Now, watching her brush each of her pointy, black ears in turn, you wonder if there's profit in letting on that you know what the big secret is. This has been an underlying source of friction for a long time. And now that you're committing Squad Four to the tournament, maybe her cards need to be out in the open. Maybe you need to press her with your newfound knowledge of who she really might be.
You're squad leader. You need to make sure your squad is on board. And Stephanie is that final hurdle.
[x] Do not press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
[x] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
[x] Use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
[x] Write-in.See Also:
Interlude 6: Circumstances Have Changed
An interlude is going to happen before the next proper update that I think you'll find interesting. After that, it's Inter-Academy Tournament go.
Nervos Belli
Don't think this means you've won!
- Location
- Murica
[x] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
As squad leader, we can make a good case for needing to know Stephanie's abilities. But trying to blackmail or browbeat her into the tournament can only backfire.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
As squad leader, we can make a good case for needing to know Stephanie's abilities. But trying to blackmail or browbeat her into the tournament can only backfire.
Mother Nyx
Mother of Elpis
- Location
- The Kei Klub
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
-[X] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
I say have the conversation with her but only because it needs to be had.
-[X] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
I say have the conversation with her but only because it needs to be had.
- Location
- ⇙
[x] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
We have to talk about this sooner or later and now that we've actually figured it out and are alone with her might be as good a time as any. Using this knowledge to force her into the tournament against her will isn't something I'm willing to do though.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
We have to talk about this sooner or later and now that we've actually figured it out and are alone with her might be as good a time as any. Using this knowledge to force her into the tournament against her will isn't something I'm willing to do though.
Going by this she also has something she wanted to tell us anyway, so talking to her seems like a good idea regardless.
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Kinruush
Who?
- Location
- USA
[x] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
Stephanie left Elizabeth on a thin excuse and didn't show back up until Eleanore had left. It seemed like she was outright avoiding being seen by a knight and I really, really want to know why.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
Stephanie left Elizabeth on a thin excuse and didn't show back up until Eleanore had left. It seemed like she was outright avoiding being seen by a knight and I really, really want to know why.
serra2
Himouto! Sylvanas-chan
[x] Press Stephanie about her connection with the Caldran knight orders.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
While we do need to have this conversation, using it against her is just wrong.
-[x] Don't use this knowledge to press Stephanie into falling in line with your decision to participate in the Inter-Academy Tournament.
While we do need to have this conversation, using it against her is just wrong.