Reinhardt
Arcane
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2015
- Messages
- 29,675
-
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Completed [LP] Bleed for your Kingdom, officer! Codex plays Guns of Infinity
- Thread starter Lithium Flower
- Start date
3 I'd prefer they get buried at home, not bringing down our stats.
3.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
I'll request as many replacements as I can.
That's right. It is of paramount importance to ensure that your command is as close to full strength as possible.
While you must admit that the influx of less-than-ideal replacements will cause a great deal of trouble at first, it is nothing that a few weeks of intensive drill and a few skirmishes with the enemy cannot make right. The problems should not take much longer than a few months to resolve themselves, and at the end of that time, you would much rather have a squadron at or near full strength than one enfeebled by the gaps in its ranks.
You quickly pen a memorandum addressed to your superiors, apprising them of the situation in your squadron and requesting of them enough men to bring your command back to its establishment strength of two hundred officers and men.
This done, you move on to the next issue. Over the next few weeks, the level of administrative work only continues to increase; it seems that the Duke of Havenport and his staff expect Prince Khorobirit himself to send his army to retake Kharangia when the snows melt, and Havenport, it appears, seems intent on making him fight for every pace the Antari advance.
As a result, not only must you prepare solely for the opening of the year's campaigning in the spring, but you must also make preparations for the regiment's needs all throughout the summer and autumn months as well—and all of this before the snow has even melted!
At times, you even begin to feel a strange and questionable sympathy towards the officers who man the desks at Grenadier Square, consigned as they are to such tedium for the whole of the year.
It is during one of these moments that you are jolted out of your unwelcome reverie by a commotion outside, loud enough to be audible through the windows. You peer down onto the street to see a fast-flowing stream of humanity coursing below you, a strange mix of officers, enlisted men, and even Antari civilians, all of them moving towards the docks in a state of great excitement.
The door half-opens. Marion's head peeks through. "Sir," he says in the half-apologetic tone of a servant intruding on his master, "perhaps you might come to the balcony? There's something you might want to see."
-
Hastily throwing on your greatcoat, you follow Corporal Marion out through the doors of your bedroom onto the covered balcony.
The house you had requisitioned, like most of the townhouses in Kharangia's High Garden quarter, possesses a commanding view of the city and its environs. While the window in your office looks out over the inland approaches, the balcony on the other side faces the docks, the harbour, and the dark blue expanse of the Calligian Sea.
"There," Marion exclaims, pointing to a low shape slicing cleanly through the water. "There she is."
It is a ship, that much is obvious, but it is of a sort which you have only seen once before in your life. It is no bigger and no more heavily built than an idle nobleman's pleasure yacht, but its slab-sided flanks and the midnight black of her hull give her an air of menace. The sharply flared bow and raked masts give her the lines of a predator. She slips into Kharangia's harbour, in the face of a winter which has yet to run its course, against the wind, her blue-grey sails filled by nothing but banecasting.
A schooner of the Imperial Takaran Navy.
The last time you beheld such a vessel had been in the heady days before Blogia. The Takarans had sent a diplomatic observer, though the woman in question did not seem to have a speck of diplomacy within the whole of her body. She had offered nothing but the sneering condescension so regularly given by the strong to the weak, and then left days before the disastrous reckoning against Mikhail of Khorobirit's army.
Now, they have come to the war in Antar once again.
1) If the Takarans have come to watch us fight once again, then they are welcome.
2) A Takaran presence will certainly complicate matters.
3) The last thing we need are point-eared meddlers intruding in our war!
That's right. It is of paramount importance to ensure that your command is as close to full strength as possible.
While you must admit that the influx of less-than-ideal replacements will cause a great deal of trouble at first, it is nothing that a few weeks of intensive drill and a few skirmishes with the enemy cannot make right. The problems should not take much longer than a few months to resolve themselves, and at the end of that time, you would much rather have a squadron at or near full strength than one enfeebled by the gaps in its ranks.
You quickly pen a memorandum addressed to your superiors, apprising them of the situation in your squadron and requesting of them enough men to bring your command back to its establishment strength of two hundred officers and men.
This done, you move on to the next issue. Over the next few weeks, the level of administrative work only continues to increase; it seems that the Duke of Havenport and his staff expect Prince Khorobirit himself to send his army to retake Kharangia when the snows melt, and Havenport, it appears, seems intent on making him fight for every pace the Antari advance.
As a result, not only must you prepare solely for the opening of the year's campaigning in the spring, but you must also make preparations for the regiment's needs all throughout the summer and autumn months as well—and all of this before the snow has even melted!
At times, you even begin to feel a strange and questionable sympathy towards the officers who man the desks at Grenadier Square, consigned as they are to such tedium for the whole of the year.
It is during one of these moments that you are jolted out of your unwelcome reverie by a commotion outside, loud enough to be audible through the windows. You peer down onto the street to see a fast-flowing stream of humanity coursing below you, a strange mix of officers, enlisted men, and even Antari civilians, all of them moving towards the docks in a state of great excitement.
The door half-opens. Marion's head peeks through. "Sir," he says in the half-apologetic tone of a servant intruding on his master, "perhaps you might come to the balcony? There's something you might want to see."
-
Hastily throwing on your greatcoat, you follow Corporal Marion out through the doors of your bedroom onto the covered balcony.
The house you had requisitioned, like most of the townhouses in Kharangia's High Garden quarter, possesses a commanding view of the city and its environs. While the window in your office looks out over the inland approaches, the balcony on the other side faces the docks, the harbour, and the dark blue expanse of the Calligian Sea.
"There," Marion exclaims, pointing to a low shape slicing cleanly through the water. "There she is."
It is a ship, that much is obvious, but it is of a sort which you have only seen once before in your life. It is no bigger and no more heavily built than an idle nobleman's pleasure yacht, but its slab-sided flanks and the midnight black of her hull give her an air of menace. The sharply flared bow and raked masts give her the lines of a predator. She slips into Kharangia's harbour, in the face of a winter which has yet to run its course, against the wind, her blue-grey sails filled by nothing but banecasting.
A schooner of the Imperial Takaran Navy.
The last time you beheld such a vessel had been in the heady days before Blogia. The Takarans had sent a diplomatic observer, though the woman in question did not seem to have a speck of diplomacy within the whole of her body. She had offered nothing but the sneering condescension so regularly given by the strong to the weak, and then left days before the disastrous reckoning against Mikhail of Khorobirit's army.
Now, they have come to the war in Antar once again.
1) If the Takarans have come to watch us fight once again, then they are welcome.
2) A Takaran presence will certainly complicate matters.
3) The last thing we need are point-eared meddlers intruding in our war!
As of the Winter of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 488
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 18%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 83% Cynicism: 17%
Ruthlessness: 36% Mercy: 64%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 488
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 18%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 83% Cynicism: 17%
Ruthlessness: 36% Mercy: 64%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 49%
Morale: 54%
Loyalty: 39%
Strength: 79%
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 49%
Morale: 54%
Loyalty: 39%
Strength: 79%
3.
LordTryhard
Novice
- Joined
- Jul 7, 2018
- Messages
- 55
You're probably joking, but...
According to the author of this series, 30-40 in a stat is basically the average citizen, while 70 is entering genius territory.
And I think he has also stated that the stats of the average Tierran officer are 40 soldiering, 50 charisma, and 50 intellect.
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2012
- Messages
- 28,365
Average dude has average stats, huh.
1.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
Of course, it would only be a matter of time before the Takarans stuck their bony fingers into this war once again.
It would not be the first time, or the fifth, or even the hundredth. The Altrichs vam Takara has always styled itself the greatest of the great powers, and it has not in three centuries refrained from reinforcing that image by taking every opportunity to turn nobles, sovereigns, and even entire nations into their tools and puppets. With the military power and resources at their disposal, the Takarans could quite easily suborn the Tierran war effort into serving their own interests, or likewise, throw their weight behind the League of Antar and use the Lords of the Congress to destroy Tierra utterly.
Perhaps this particular observer is only here to watch and take notes, but you do not think that such a state of affairs would last for long.
It soon appears as if the rest of the army shares your apprehension. Before long, rumours and whispers are flying like balls at a tennis court, and all meaningful work slows to a crawl as the informal network of informants that is the Duke's staff scrambles to make sense of the Takaran visit. Some say he is an old military man, a former colonel in their imperial guard. Others say it is instead his wastrel of a son. No, comes another rumour, it cannot be, for the visitor is not an observer but a permanent ambassador, and not even the Takarans would be foolish enough to trust such business to a dissipated dilettante.
The conjecture and hearsay becomes more outlandish with each day, but it does not last for long. Four days after the black ship arrives, Marion hands you an invitation; the Duke of Havenport has made the decision to hold a dinner for the newly arrived Takaran envoy two days hence. Aside from the visitor himself, Havenport has invited many of his senior officers, yourself included.
From the desk of the Duke, such an invitation carries the force of a command. It appears you shall be getting close enough to take a look at this mysterious Takaran envoy in person.
-
On that evening, you do indeed manage to get quite close to him.
Right next to him, in fact.
Either through accident or design, you have been seated directly to the left of the point-eared Takaran. He looks very young and would be extremely handsome, had his fine features lacked the characteristic elongated gauntness and death-paleness of the Takaran race. For the first part of the dinner, through the aperitif and the soup, he remains silent, his wide, full lips pursed in thought, his almond-shaped blue eyes wandering about the room wistfully.
It is only when the roast beef is served that you see his expression slip, for he clearly has little experience eating with both knife and fork. He jabs the slice of steaming red meat on his plate this way and that with a genteel exuberance but makes no progress in actually slicing off a piece small enough to eat.
"How does one do it?" he says in accented but excellent Tierran, with a detachment fit only for confronting the truly silly, still stabbing at his beef all the while. "It is like eating with bayonets." It is only then that you realise that he is speaking to you.
"Ah! I have forgotten my manners!" he exclaims. "I am Lord Cassius vam Holt, ambassador on behalf of Aldkizern Reskin vam Paulus ai Takara, to the court of King Miguel of the Unified Kingdom of Tierra, at your service." He extends you a slight bow in his seat.
"Captain Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Royal Dragoons, at yours," you reply.
The Takaran smiles brightly as he inclines his head to you again. "A pleasure to meet you, sir, a pleasure indeed."
(Choose 2 options from below list this time)
1) "What is your opinion of your visit thus far, sir?"
2) "How does Takara see our war?"
3) "You seem to me very young to be an ambassador."
4) "Have you done any soldiering yourself?"
It would not be the first time, or the fifth, or even the hundredth. The Altrichs vam Takara has always styled itself the greatest of the great powers, and it has not in three centuries refrained from reinforcing that image by taking every opportunity to turn nobles, sovereigns, and even entire nations into their tools and puppets. With the military power and resources at their disposal, the Takarans could quite easily suborn the Tierran war effort into serving their own interests, or likewise, throw their weight behind the League of Antar and use the Lords of the Congress to destroy Tierra utterly.
Perhaps this particular observer is only here to watch and take notes, but you do not think that such a state of affairs would last for long.
It soon appears as if the rest of the army shares your apprehension. Before long, rumours and whispers are flying like balls at a tennis court, and all meaningful work slows to a crawl as the informal network of informants that is the Duke's staff scrambles to make sense of the Takaran visit. Some say he is an old military man, a former colonel in their imperial guard. Others say it is instead his wastrel of a son. No, comes another rumour, it cannot be, for the visitor is not an observer but a permanent ambassador, and not even the Takarans would be foolish enough to trust such business to a dissipated dilettante.
The conjecture and hearsay becomes more outlandish with each day, but it does not last for long. Four days after the black ship arrives, Marion hands you an invitation; the Duke of Havenport has made the decision to hold a dinner for the newly arrived Takaran envoy two days hence. Aside from the visitor himself, Havenport has invited many of his senior officers, yourself included.
From the desk of the Duke, such an invitation carries the force of a command. It appears you shall be getting close enough to take a look at this mysterious Takaran envoy in person.
-
On that evening, you do indeed manage to get quite close to him.
Right next to him, in fact.
Either through accident or design, you have been seated directly to the left of the point-eared Takaran. He looks very young and would be extremely handsome, had his fine features lacked the characteristic elongated gauntness and death-paleness of the Takaran race. For the first part of the dinner, through the aperitif and the soup, he remains silent, his wide, full lips pursed in thought, his almond-shaped blue eyes wandering about the room wistfully.
It is only when the roast beef is served that you see his expression slip, for he clearly has little experience eating with both knife and fork. He jabs the slice of steaming red meat on his plate this way and that with a genteel exuberance but makes no progress in actually slicing off a piece small enough to eat.
"How does one do it?" he says in accented but excellent Tierran, with a detachment fit only for confronting the truly silly, still stabbing at his beef all the while. "It is like eating with bayonets." It is only then that you realise that he is speaking to you.
"Ah! I have forgotten my manners!" he exclaims. "I am Lord Cassius vam Holt, ambassador on behalf of Aldkizern Reskin vam Paulus ai Takara, to the court of King Miguel of the Unified Kingdom of Tierra, at your service." He extends you a slight bow in his seat.
"Captain Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga, Royal Dragoons, at yours," you reply.
The Takaran smiles brightly as he inclines his head to you again. "A pleasure to meet you, sir, a pleasure indeed."
(Choose 2 options from below list this time)
1) "What is your opinion of your visit thus far, sir?"
2) "How does Takara see our war?"
3) "You seem to me very young to be an ambassador."
4) "Have you done any soldiering yourself?"
As of the Winter of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 488
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 18%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 83% Cynicism: 17%
Ruthlessness: 36% Mercy: 64%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 488
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 18%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 83% Cynicism: 17%
Ruthlessness: 36% Mercy: 64%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 49%
Morale: 54%
Loyalty: 39%
Strength: 79%
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 49%
Morale: 54%
Loyalty: 39%
Strength: 79%
4. To ask him anything else seems to be prying into his business. We are all officers here, save for this man. It is best we know where he stands in that department first.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
just FYI we will have to ask him two questions regardless so I would appreciate two votes even if you don't want to talk to the elf at all
4 and 1
We're considered a senior officer! Cool!
We're considered a senior officer! Cool!
4 and then 1
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
"What is your opinion of your visit thus far, sir?"
The ambassador grins. "Aside from the absurd eating utensils, you mean?" he replies, gesturing at the perfectly normal fork in his hand. "Your Duke of Havenport has proven an excellent host thus far, though it is strange, finding myself in a culture which is so…" He grasps for the term. "Inhibited?"
"How so?" you ask, curiosity piqued by the Takaran's observation. "It has always been the impression among us that it is the Takaran culture which is bound most heavily by austere ritual."
Lord Cassius chuckles softly. "Surely you must know that it is only the most formal situations which require such ceremonious stoicism," he replies, his tone chiding. "You must know that outside of such matters, we do not force ourselves into dancing around our opinions, as you Tierrans seem to do so often. We value honesty above such nonsense, which is why…" He stops for a moment, perhaps realising that he dances on the edge of bluntness and tactlessness. "…which is why this all seems very strange to me."
The Takaran looks away, his eyes wandering for a moment before returning. "It is also so very unusual to see so many people in uniform, and not a single woman among them. It is not like Takara at all," he notes. "The practice of barring women from your senate—well, your Cortes—and your army seems like a very…" Lord Cassius pauses for a moment. "…a very quaint tradition."
1) "Tierran ladies are not blessed with the advantages of the women of Takara."
2) "You may think what you like; I've no opinion on the matter."
3) "Not a quaint tradition, a pointless and self-defeating one."
The ambassador grins. "Aside from the absurd eating utensils, you mean?" he replies, gesturing at the perfectly normal fork in his hand. "Your Duke of Havenport has proven an excellent host thus far, though it is strange, finding myself in a culture which is so…" He grasps for the term. "Inhibited?"
"How so?" you ask, curiosity piqued by the Takaran's observation. "It has always been the impression among us that it is the Takaran culture which is bound most heavily by austere ritual."
Lord Cassius chuckles softly. "Surely you must know that it is only the most formal situations which require such ceremonious stoicism," he replies, his tone chiding. "You must know that outside of such matters, we do not force ourselves into dancing around our opinions, as you Tierrans seem to do so often. We value honesty above such nonsense, which is why…" He stops for a moment, perhaps realising that he dances on the edge of bluntness and tactlessness. "…which is why this all seems very strange to me."
The Takaran looks away, his eyes wandering for a moment before returning. "It is also so very unusual to see so many people in uniform, and not a single woman among them. It is not like Takara at all," he notes. "The practice of barring women from your senate—well, your Cortes—and your army seems like a very…" Lord Cassius pauses for a moment. "…a very quaint tradition."
1) "Tierran ladies are not blessed with the advantages of the women of Takara."
2) "You may think what you like; I've no opinion on the matter."
3) "Not a quaint tradition, a pointless and self-defeating one."
As of the Winter of the 610th year of the Old Imperial Era
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 488
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 18%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 83% Cynicism: 17%
Ruthlessness: 36% Mercy: 64%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sir Alaric d'al Ortiga
Age: 22
Rank: Captain
Wealth: 488
Income: 15
Soldiering: 75%
Charisma: 43%
Intellect: 5%
Reputation: 18%
Health: 65%
Idealism: 83% Cynicism: 17%
Ruthlessness: 36% Mercy: 64%
You are a Knight of the Red, having the right to wear bane-hardened armour and wield a bane-runed sword.
You have no decorations as of yet.
Sixth Squadron, Royal Dragoons
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 49%
Morale: 54%
Loyalty: 39%
Strength: 79%
Senior NCO: Staff-sergeant Hernandes
Discipline: 49%
Morale: 54%
Loyalty: 39%
Strength: 79%
1.
Lithium Flower
Arcane
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2016
- Messages
- 1,832
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