The door to Emlin’s office opened with a dramatic flourish and the Rittmeister herself marched through it at a pace of knots. She flashed something close to a polite smile as she skirted Faye and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor.<br/><b><br/>
[Teutari]</b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">Ah, good. It is pleasing to see that they are capable of teaching the importance of punctuality at Westmeister </span></i><span style="color: #a64dff">Miss Krieger<i>.</i>’</span><br/><br/>To someone with sharpness of ear there was a momentary dragging out of the other elf’s name, as though Emlin were tasting it and finding the syllables to her liking. There was also a conspicuous absence of rank-based greeting, but she carried on at such a pace that it might have been possible to overlook.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><span style="color: #a64dff">‘<i>Walk with me. There are things that we should talk about, I’m sure a smart woman such as yourself will have little difficulty in figuring out exactly what it is that I’m referring to.’</i></span><br/><br/>Emlin smiled a disarmingly pleasant smile, but only for the briefest of moments. It snapped off with rigid efficiency and without another wasted breath she turned upon her heel and set off with a rapid stride into the gloom. There was a large degree of self-assurance in the elf’s swagger. She was rigid and, even though at relative ease, carried herself with a crisp military precision. One hand rested upon the pommel of her long, straight sword while the other neatly pressed into the small of her back. Textbook officer, not an iota of uniform or poise out of place.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">Old name, Krieger, prestigious. I knew a Krieger once, good man, wonderful laugh. Someone put a billhook through his face and I believe he bled out in the mud along with many other good men and women. I don’t know if they ever found his body. I killed the bastard who got him though. I suppose that’s what matters. Another glorious, if hard-won victory for the Reik.’</span></i><br/><br/>There was almost a wistful, damaged edge to Emlin’s voice. She was however, in full monologue mode and picked up her mood after a few loud clicks of her metalled heels. The Rittmeister lifted her head high and straightened very slightly. From somewhere up ahead came the sound of a piano. Even distorted by the aging concrete it was clear that it was being played rather well.<br/><b><br/>
[Teutari]</b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">But I digress. We’re here to talk about you, not the dead and mostly forgotten. I studied your file, stirring stuff let me tell you. Gifted, no doubt. No doubt at all. Let us hope that here, without instructors to wrap you on the wrists and shake their heads disapprovingly, you will flourish. I fully intend for you to flourish, </span></i><span style="color: #a64dff">Miss Krieger<i>. I intend for you to </i>bloom.’</span><br/><br/>The piano grew louder until the elves reached a curious, for the usual décor of the facility, wooden door inlaid with neat stained glass depicting aspects that the Reik valued. Honour, Strength and Patriotism played out in small cut-glass scenes of elves doing uplifting things. A small, neatly moulded brass plaque stated ‘Officer’s Lounge’.<br/><br/>Emlin paused with her splayed fingertips pressed against the wooden framework.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">Vizefeldwebel. It is the beginning of a long and slippery pole for you to climb. Usually someone bearing your insignia wouldn’t be welcome here, but you are more than that </span></i><span style="color: #a64dff">Miss Krieger.<i> You are a noble scion of the Reik and that comes with a certain number of perks here, should you wish them. Foremost among them access to Helen Loewe’s rather excellent cellar.’</i></span><br/><br/>Emlin grinned and displayed a mouth full of very clean, very sharp looking teeth, then pushed her way into the lounge. She held the door politely for Faye and then guided the magister to a low table with two chairs close to the pianist. A small tea light danced merrily on the table and threw distorted flickers of light over the polished wood. Emlin loosened her sword belt, sat and gestured for Fay to do the same. They were immediately approached by an elf in an absolutely immaculate white shirt and prim black tie.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">A bottle of the Schloss Kristallwald ’54 if you would be so kind Rainer. Nothing but the finest for our esteemed noble guest.’</span></i><br/><br/>The waiter nodded curtly and disappeared into the gloom. Cigarette and pipe smoke drifted amidst the ceiling lights of the panelled room, courtesy of the other officers who were enjoying their leisure time in proper Reik fashion. Leaning upon the bar was a blonde elf with trim features and an expression that could have soured milk. It didn’t appear to be the barkeep’s fault however, rather an unfortunate side effect of the scarred remnants of a bullet wound which graced both cheeks. At her back was a mighty plethora of bottles in a dizzying array of shapes and colours. The wine arrived promptly and Rainer poured two glasses, then left the bottle.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><span style="color: #a64dff"><i>‘Now, if you would please, </i>Miss Krieger,<i> let me explain myself before you pass judgement on anything. You’ve been very patient, I’m aware of that. I ask a moment more of that patience. </i></span><br/><br/>All of a sudden the low murmur of faint conversation from the officers present came to a halt. An elf with a shock of white-blonde hair and an evening dress of distinct refinement had taken a stand beside the piano. There was an undeniable and uncanny similarity between her and the Rittmeister sat before Faye. The newcomer smiled and leant back against the black wood of the instrument, her hands with their elbow-length gloves swept back like wings. She tossed her hair slightly to coyly cover one eye and the pianist changed from a gentle background tinkling to something more elegantly defined.<br/><br/>Then the slender elf began to sing in Teutari with a sad, melodious voice that flowed into one’s ears like sweet honey.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">I let you rise away, can't feel your breath in my hairs<br/>
It seems to be years, and I'm alone and fake, and I'm alone and fake<br/>
If this world is too small to be two, a world without sense if I'm without you<br/>
It's always the wrong way, there's no return to life so step into the rain and ride<br/>
Look at the game of your life, you never took all the dice<br/>
After all, curtains fall, there's no return to life, so step into the rain and ride<br/>
<br/>
Waiting for hope love, there's no more light in my sky<br/>
See the pills in my hand, I'm running through your lies<br/>
You've got nothing to say, 'til I'm crossing the line<br/>
But you can't kill my name, demon's coming tonight​</div><br/>Emlin leant back in her chair and raised her glass to Faye. She took a sip of the plum red wine and made a very satisfied face. Then her eyes narrowed in the gloom as the singer continued her sombre song. The Rittmeister crossed her legs at the knee and swirled the wine before taking a sip.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">There’s a good reason why I have had the hound promoted, and it has nothing to do with a ridiculous slight to you. Do I expect you to take orders from her? Yes, but mostly because they will be coming from me. Secondly, do you have much combat experience? No. I thought not. Take a close look at that creature. She’s forty three years old. Forty three! How many hounds do you know who live past their twenties, let alone to her age?</span></i><br/><span style="color: #a64dff"><br/>
<i>I have seen the creature’s combat records. She’s not been kept back as a pet in some backwater keep. They threw her at just about everything and she weathered it and suffered for it, as right a hound should. Now, take a look at yourself. Full of pep and vim and all the noble pride of our glorious Reik. Do you for a moment think that the others, save perhaps the construct, give a damn about anything we stand for? Of course they don’t. They need to be </i>barked<i> at and to be beaten into order.’</i></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">Waiting for hope love, there's no more light in my sky<br/>
See the pills in my hand, I'm running through your lies<br/>
You've got nothing to say, 'til I'm crossing the line<br/>
But you can't kill my name, demon's coming tonight​</div><br/>Emlin sighed and took another sip of wine. Her voice wasn’t harsh, but it was earnest. She fixed Fay with a look of sympathy, then risked a glance at the glamorous songstress. The serious expression on her face mellowed somewhat and for a brief moment of possible weakness, Emlin closed her eyes. They flicked back open and swung back like a sniper’s scope a moment later to lacerated the magister with their sincerity.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">I don’t for a moment think that our endeavour will be easy. People will die and the mercenaries will be afraid. They need to have confidence in their NCOs and you’re…this will be hard to hear, wet behind the ears, regardless of how much pride you have. The pup is seasoned – visually and physically, they can see that. It’s tangible and they need will need that. You cannot run a successful operation the pitiful size of ours through fear and threats. There can be no second-guessing of those who are telling them how high to jump or off which cliff.</span></i><br/><span style="color: #a64dff"><br/>
<i>I ask that you bite your lip in this matter, take your orders from the hound should they be given to you, and come out of this with commendations and advances up the pole of command. This mission may be funded by the Reik, but believe me, my superiors don’t care unless we get results. If we do, then they will organise a proper command and we can do away with these rag tag miscreants. You can have them all to dissect if you really fancy. You’re officer material </i>Miss Krieger<i>, or did you think you were going to remain a Vizefeldwebel forever? You’ll go far, I promise.’</i></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">The dolls inside me cave in, blood and tears on my skin<br/>
My wounds bring up my fear, but I like this last, this last grip<br/>
I just want to rid me of my pain, this happy violence is beating in my veins<br/>
It's always the wrong way, there's no return to life, I'm in the rain and I’ll die<br/>
<br/>
Waiting for hope love, there's no more light in my sky<br/>
See the pills in my hand, I'm running through your lies<br/>
You've got nothing to say, 'til I'm crossing the line<br/>
But you can't kill my name, demon's coming tonight​</div><br/>The leather creaked beneath the diminutive Rittmeister as she leant forwards. The wine swayed in the cut-crystal glass as the singer came to a shivering finale. Behind Emlin there came a smattering of applause from the officers and the buzz of conversation returned. Her eyes looked damper than usual, but her expression was of rigid solemnity.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] </b><i>‘<span style="color: #a64dff">I would like to hear that you understand my motivations, but as is your right as a daughter of the Reik, you may speak freely </span></i><span style="color: #a64dff">Miss Krieger.’</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>