<b><span style="text-decoration: underline">The Gymnasium</span></b><br/><br/><br/>Out of one, remarkably observant eye, Heinrich watched Ithalin performing his little rite on the weapon. The cold, dancing illumination worked across the dull metal and finally settled into an odd formation of lights upon the working end of the oversized Warhammer. Magic, yes, he was used to that. Haughty Reik magisters tended to be quite blasé in their deployment of their gifts. He remembered, with a large lack of fondness, serving beneath one such magister who used their power to turn the pages of a book, rather than turning the enemy inside out. Different strokes for different folks he supposed.<br/><br/>When the undead man was done and reduced to a shell of his former prime self the instructor cocked his head and flashed a brilliant smile. He paused and disseminated what had just occurred and what had just been uttered to him about the dagger, then returned his attention to the paracelsi. His moustache bobbed as he spoke, addressing Ithalin without looking at him.<br/><br/><b>‘Looking for magic in it, eh old boy? I’m afraid to say that thing’s about as magic as my arse. Which, admittedly a few years ago might have been true, oh but for the ravages of time. I assume that you’re looking for some sort of answer to the squiggly shapes, eh? You know, you could have just asked and spared yourself the theatrics. The rune on the right says “Made by Cromar, son of Magli” and the other says “Honour thy mother through thy deeds”. I wouldn’t worry about learning the lingo though, they all speak Teutari now.’</b><br/><br/>He smirked at Hermesia who had just ceased her gesture of submission.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><b>‘Your friend here makes an excellent point however. For a small weapon like this, in the hands of someone who I suspect doesn’t have prestigious pools of hidden strength, the kidneys are an excellent target. They’re typically quite close to the surface, so a terribly deep wound won’t be required. On most elvenoids they’re located here and here…’</b><br/><br/>Heinrich took the medic’s hands in his own and placed them above where his kidneys were located. It looked as though the pair were about to launch into a waltz. He grinned, clearly enjoying putting the unterelfe in a position she might not have been used to.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari] ‘The Rittmeister and you lot are going places that none of us have ever set foot in. Who is to say what awaits you on the other side of that window between the worlds? Perhaps you’ll step out into a world made entirely of marshmallow. Perhaps it’ll be naught but people who have arses where their heads should be and faces where their arses should be. Who knows?<br/>
<br/>
You all need to be prepared for any situation and if that means giving an unterelfe a few extra pointers on how to keep herself and her masters alive, then isn’t that a step towards preservation of the Rittmeister and for that matter, the integrity of the mission itself? As for a return gift, hah! Bring me back a souvenir from your first world. Maybe a magnet or a postcard that says “The Deadlands, wish you were here”!’</b><br/><br/><br/><b><span style="text-decoration: underline">The Officer’s Lounge</span></b><br/><br/><br/>Emlin watched Faye from the recesses of her high-backed chair and occasionally took a sip from the cut crystal glass. Her expression remained unchanged, lilted by the slightest of small smiles creasing her left cheek while the other remained immobile. It was the eyes that might have served to unsettle however. Those watery, dilated gold-flecked purple orbs that locked onto Faye and give the impression that there wasn’t an iota that wasn’t taken in and digested behind her gently unsettling visage.<br/><br/>There came movement from behind her and another round of polite cheers as Faye brought her retort to a close. The pianist had launched into a more identifiable melody that extricated itself from the tinkling background smattering of hit keys. The Rittmeister leant forwards, terrifyingly without the aged leather making a sound as she did so. Calmly she grasped the bottle and topped herself up. The smile didn’t change as she applied wine to glass and nor did she break her incising stare.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>Were you saved by the ring of the bell?<br/>
Is it hard to relax when you’re told that you can never fail?<br/>
Has the bit that you spit from your teeth,<br/>
Been replaced by a taste that has all but lost its novelty?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>You don’t need to change.<br/>
You just need fire and a little faith.</i>​</div><br/>A slight flicker of satisfaction came over Emlin’s face as the singer started up again. The piano backing her was cheerful this time, but acted as a counterpoint to the woman’s sombre and beautiful voice. The Rittmeister very politely topped up Faye’s glass and then slithered back into the dark comfort of the chair like a beast returning to its gloomy lair.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #a64dff">‘Almost all, Vizefeldwebel. Would you like to guess how many times I’ve heard the “bites the hand that feeds” anecdote? Now, I’m not suggesting that your uncle didn’t have a pair of poor pups put down, but I will say that there must be an awful lot of executed dogs in the Reik these days. I personally take something of a different view, perhaps you would too if you had bled and suffered beside our auxiliaries as I have. I know that it’s remarkably easy to be dismissive of something you’ve not really encountered before – but don’t take this as a slight, Vizefeldwebel. I suspect that this is merely something that needs to be learned through application.’</span></i><br/><br/>Emlin offered a smile with just the right amount of teeth. It looked as though it had been practiced a thousand times before.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>In order to get what you want done,<br/>
You must fight for everyone.<br/>
In order to get to what you needed,<br/>
You spent time on nothing much.</i>​</div><br/>Around the pair the room was starting to fill up. Officers of varying ranks were clearly coming off duty and making directly for the most important place in the entire facility. Most were impeccably dressed, but there were also several more weather-beaten elves in camouflaged smock-like uniforms who left small scatterings of dust wherever they went.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #a64dff">‘As for would your uncle approve of my actions? Frankly I don’t care and I’d wager that neither would he nor any of the upper echelons. What you have to understand, Vizefeldwebel, is that we have been abandoned, more or less, which makes my word gospel. This is my ship and like it or not, you are on it now. If it goes down, you’ll be lashed to the mast with me so we may greet our demise with screams of laughter.’</span></i><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>And the moral is you live and learn.<br/>
There’s a barb in your heart and a world on which we turn,<br/>
And it’s easy to see what you mean<br/>
When you say, “Life’s a train and it’s slowly rolling over me”.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>You don’t need to change.<br/>
You just need fire and a little faith.</i>​</div><br/>Emlin took a long sip from her glass and made a small satisfied sound. Then her eyes narrowed and hardened noticeably. An almost literal shadow came over her face as her impish smile took upon a more savage and dangerous edge. It would have been hard to interpret what might have been going on in the woman’s head. Perhaps it would have been wiser not to tread those grounds.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #a64dff">‘This is good wine. Exquisite, perhaps. Now it may surprise you to know that not all of us grew up with finery and the luxury of looking down upon everyone they met, save for the hounds and the other unterelfe. Oh of course we all look down on them, t’would be foolish not to, no? It’s not as though they have contributed in any way to our ability to enjoy this, rather lovely vintage.</span></i><br/><br/><i><span style="color: #a64dff">Yet I digress. Your personal views are your own and your right to keep, however I thought I heard a dissenting voice there, to which I’m sure that I must be mistaken, as it sounded as though you were suggesting that someone who has earned commendation should be stricken from my dispatches. Now I’m sure that my ears must have caught a snatch of someone else’s conversation there, distracted perhaps by the hustle and bustle of this rather lovely nook of refinement and respectability.’</span></i><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>In order to get what you want done,<br/>
You must fight for everyone.<br/>
In order to get to what you needed,<br/>
You spent time on nothing much.</i>​</div><br/><span style="color: #a64dff"><i>‘Because I would think it poor form of someone who is so utterly unproven in every regard that they appear to have forgotten that a pretty face isn’t all you need to get by in the Reik. I suggest that you learn a little humility first, dear </i>Vizefeldwebel <i>and restrain yourself from base judgements before you have had ample opportunity to experience them in the field. I’m very much looking forward to our working relationship Vizefeldwebel Krieger. Do not disappoint me. Now </i>that<i>, is all.’</i></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i>And the moral is you live and learn.</i>​</div><br/><br/><b><span style="text-decoration: underline">The Armoury</span></b><br/><br/><br/>Angelica licked her lips and nodded earnestly. Truthfully she still couldn’t get over the near-deific presence of her kin wearing such a magisterial headpiece. However, she was still a loyal servant of the Reik, even though officially retired, and the old training kicked in with warm familiarity. She snapped another neat salute, the perfect picture of loyalty and respect, admittedly slightly marred by the old hound’s furiously wagging tail.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #ff8000">‘Yes sir! Of course sir! This way sir!’</span></i><br/><br/>To say that Angelica ‘scampered’ would have been a rather apt description. Her body was flooded with excitement which leant a spryness to her aged limbs. True she wasn’t going to be winning any races or chasing balls any time soon, but she certainly picked up the pace.<br/><br/>She led Anje onwards, through a maze of rifle racks and small-arms. Everything was pristine, but battered in that traditional Reik manner. It was easy to picture generations of loyal soldiers wielding the different weapons in defence of their realm. Each had left their own marks and scratches upon the surfaces that no amount of polish or lacquer would ever buff out. Each weapon was as distinctive as a fingerprint, unique in its own deadly way.<br/><br/>Angelica gritted her teeth as her bones ground against one another, but she wasn’t about to let her kin or a senior NCO down in a hurry. She made it to a large, heavy metal grille guarded on the outside by an extremely tall and, strangely for a Reik elf, quite broad female captain. She was sat on a chair beside the small hut-like protrusion from the wall, reading a book. A ‘room-cleanser’ was balanced upon the woman’s knees with the roped ammunition chain dangling between her legs. She did not perceivably look up as Angelica approached.<br/><br/>From on a catwalk overhead came the sound of metalled boots. Angelica looked up with a smile to see three other armed elves gripping or leaning upon the railing. They were all being watched intently although weapons had not been drawn.<br/><br/>Behind the grille Reimund Pfaff came to attention, but failed to get to his feet as the hound drew up to the divide. Beyond the grizzled elf was an open blast door through which could be glimpsed row upon row of ammunition boxes, vanishing into the dark. There was enough materiel to fuel an army beyond the protective metal.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b>‘I see you found a friend, Angelica. She a new assignment or something? Don’t tell me I’m going to sweeping up two people’s fur every week.’<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #ff8000">‘Not at all Wachtmeister Pfaff! The Rittmeister promoted her! To Stabswachtmeister! She needs to be kitted out, as a proper Stabswachtmeister, uniform, weapons. Horse!’</span></i><br/><br/>The news did rouse Pfaff this time. He get to his feet almost ponderously and leant forwards. The non-commissioned officer’s fingers gripped the grille as he stared through it and looked Anje up and down. The expression on the man’s face seemed to rove between amusement and shock, unable to settle on anything. So too did the guard captain lift her attention from the novel she had been devouring. She took one look at Anje, at her poise and hat, goggled slightly then turned her head to one side and grinned at Pfaff.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b>‘See that Reimund? Word’s got round that you’re a fat, lazy fucker. The war pups are coming for your job.’<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b>‘Bugger me, hush your yap Hannah! Are you being serious, Angelica? This isn’t some sort of wind-up is it? The Rittmeister’s not hiding back there ready to jump out and point and laugh at gullible old Reimund is she?<br/><br/>The old hound shook her head so hard that her own unimpressive hat threatened to fly off.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b><i><span style="color: #ff8000">‘No sir! This is as real as the nose on my face!’</span></i><br/><br/>Angelica’s tail reached near super-sonic speed and her aged frame trembled slightly with the thrill of it all. She wanted to howl happily, but was savvy enough to realise that this wouldn’t go down to well with her elven companions.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b>‘Bugger me.’<br/><br/>He rubbed at his neck and brought himself up to a more respectable posture. Then remembering that against anything even remotely resembling sense he was actually addressing a superior, even if she was a furry one, he saluted quickly.<br/><br/><b>[Teutari]</b>‘Well, that’s going to take some getting used to…tell me then,<i>sir, </i>what can I supply you with? You’ve got the pick of…well, everything.’<br/><br/>Hannah sniggered and then deployed a wink at Anje.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>