Emlin’s ears twitched as the hound barked her arrival, but that was about the only movement she made save to lift the glass of schnapps to her lips and take a laborious sip. She was stood with all her weight on one leg, the faux window still capturing her attention. She looked remarkably comfortable, almost as though one could picture her at home with her gaze upon a real scene of fields rampant with green and gold.<br/><br/>The Rittmeister turned abruptly upon her heel and stalked toward the desk. Both hands came down upon the green leather and Emlin’s arms went rigid. The expression on her face wavered between a dangerous smile and a cunning smirk. Her eyes locked upon the hound’s own and meticulously pinned her with nothing more than a severe gaze.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #a64dff">‘Stabsunteroffizier. I am going to start talking now and when I stop, you are going to wag your tail and say "Yes Rittmeister. Of course Rittmeister. It will be my absolute pleasure Rittmeister."’</span></i><br/><br/>Emlin relaxed a little and took a sip of the schnapps. Then she pulled open a drawer and retrieved a small bottle with a raspberry on the label and a second glass. She placed both down on top of a file marked ‘Top Secret’ and then positioned her own glass beside it. The elf did not pour any of the fierce liquor into either tumbler. Instead she placed her gloved hands behind her back and puffed out her chest. Her small breasts pushed at the uniform, but really there wasn’t much to see.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">I find myself with something of a quandary, pup. I have all manner of odds and ends to work with on this project. While I am sure that they have skills that will assist us to no end, they are creatures of poor moral fibre who lack your…our principles. We cannot rely upon any of them to truly see us bring honour to the Reik, nor to prove the value of this project. Would that I had a battalion of your kin…</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="color: #a64dff">Regardless, I feel as though I require someone with the correct variety of unwavering loyalty to the Reik to assist me. To assist us all, so that we might prevail in the correct way. The way that brings triumph to our peoples.’</span></i><br/><br/>Emlin unclasped her hands and brought them to the box. She lifted the lid and carefully placed it down on the worktop. From its dark innards the Rittmeister produced a high-peaked cap, much like her own although without nearly as much decoration. It was however the same dark black hue and of apparently the same fine material. She held it in one hand and then reached back into the box with her spare.<br/><br/>The elf removed a Reik-tech revolver and hefted it in her right hand. The protective travelling grease glinted in the low electric light as Emlin turned it, inspecting the piece. It was clearly brand new, for the detailing bore no signs of wear or damage. Apparently satisfied, she thrust both the cap and the weapon towards the hound, smiling triumphantly as she did so.<br/><b><br/>
[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #a64dff">‘To my knowledge, no hound has ever possessed a hat like this, or borne Reik-tech weaponry except in the direst of circumstances. I am making history by offering you a promotion, pup, to the rank of Stabswachtmeister. You will have a new uniform fitted by the end of the day and access to the armoury, at my specific instruction. The rank also awards you a mount, should you wish it, although I have no idea how hounds feel towards riding. What say you?’</span></i><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>