Leon Brandeau

A sizable group quickly formed around Leon and Gerhardt. It was understandable that not everyone raced to their side in the thick of battle, so Leon was content with what they assembled. What he was less content with was the growing chaos on the field. The advent of an artillery strike certainly boded ill for their prospects, but Leon hadn't given up yet. Even worse, their gathering had attracted the attention of opportunistic ranged combatants on the enemy side, but other cadets seemed quick to respond to them. At Gerhardt's call, Leon readied to charge with a nod of affirmation.

As their charge began, Leon broke to the right as they split the line as expected. He immediately engaged two axemen from the line, bringing his glaive up horizontally to block their strikes in one go. He then jerked his glaive to the right, wrenching the pair off balance. He then used the moment to rip his glaive free of his block and strike at one axeman's neck. As it struck true, the other axeman rallied to cut him down. Even with his weapon still stuck in the first man, Leon dropped to one knee and caught the oncoming axe below the blade with the shaft of his glaive. He then tore it free of the first man, and used the momentum to pull the second man's axe hand aside, and then whipped his glaive around to smack him in the face with the end of it. With the man stunned, he then finished him off with a clean slice to an exposed part in his armor. He then joined in Gerhardt's final rallying cry. "Yes! Let us make a clean sweep, for the Empire!" He called out. Although concerns about the artillery played at the back of his mind, he had resolved to keep fighting in spite of it. Even if he had to sprint up to the very position of the artillery and slay it's crew, he was determined to achieve victory.

---

With Natus taking care of the grenadier, and Gerhardt and Leon carving through the blockade, Esther had a straight shot towards Althea. She quickly switched back her vessel to its dormant mode and used its ability to quickly run towards the medic, who was still busy with her work.

"I-I'm here!" she announced to her before erecting her wind barrier once more. Now they should be safe from any stray bullets. She truly hoped Althea could save the man from the brink of death. She was sure he would have people who would miss him if he were to die here, and that would be really sad.

@DracoLunaris

The motley cadets were rapidly gathering and growing in coordination, their fierce reprisal very unexpected by the attackers. It was an irony not lost upon Leblanc that the rifleman, easily the greatest concern they had for the range with which they could strike from, were the ones now being cut down like chattel till it appeared only two remained, forcing the shocktroopers to advance into the melee.

And they advanced to their deaths, as the cadets made certain not a one of them would be returning home that night.

"Is that an officer I hear?" Her head turned with uncanny accuracy to gaze towards the adversary barking orders, her blank expression growing taut with concentration. "Escape will be easier if they are disorganized. Hmm, would it be better to silence permanently or grievously wound so they are compelled to evacuate them?"

It was a question she vocalized even when she knew the answer already. A corpse would spur their pursuers on in a frenzy, blind though it may be, while a wounded officer would force them to try and recover him. It would at least draw off a handful of pursuers, so the choice was clear.

Leblanc broke rank and ran once more, loping across the killing field and up the harsh incline with nary a concern. Fire light danced off her blades while her tongue hung past her parted lips as though a serpent tasting the air, and to a degree she was. All her senses were attuned to the environment around her and not a slash went unrecognized by the sea weed haired girl, leaving her assured any of the neardy marksmen were well and truly handled for her to advance without need to worry for stray shots.

"..." She had no words for her target, and the officer in rifleman regalia who'd soon find himself confronted by Leblanc. Appearing before him she dove into a hand stand with nary a pause, the momentum of her journey carrying her legs forward to collide with the enemies shoulders. A twist of her feet had Leblanc's boots come together behind his neck and with a grunt she pulled back, yanking the officer off his feet head first.

With a little more force it would have been childs play to snap his neck from a collision with hard packed earth but that was counter productive, leaving Leblanc to hold back at the last moment so she came to kneel atop a dazed but still very living man.

"Scream for me. Scream loudly, till your lungs shred themselves." Leblanc whispered coolly and drove her knife into the unprotected back of his legs, carving fabric, flesh, and fat with a stoic disregard for her enemy. "If you don't, no one will stop me from carving you like a turkey."

@Er0r, @Crimmy, @Hammerman, @Leotamer, @Mercurial, @DracoLunaris, @Mega Birb, @SilverDawn, @KoL, @TheWindel

Well. Things had begun to get way more interesting than he initially would have liked. But Gradon knew what he had signed up for in this training exercise gone wrong and so had had no major complaints as the true purpose of this battle was seemingly revealed. Specifically, something that had to do with the girl dressed as a plague doctor, or maybe something she had in her possession that the enemy wanted? Whatever the case, she would need backup.

The appearance of Leblanc, Clean, and several others was a welcome sign because that meant he could move off without feeling guilty about it. They had plenty of numbers now and when Leon announced his charge into the line of gunmen, Gradon following Leblanc’s motion of breaking rank. Round Table in hand, he covered distance well with great strides all while sending back whatever bullets came his way with strikes of his blade.

The Captain seemed to be holding her own so there was no need to be concerned about her and wherever Leblanc had run off to he was sure she was causing havoc of some kind. And judging by the ringing death screams and sounds of panic filling the air the tides were turning. The line of gunmen was being shredded alive by the advancing group of Imperial students and whatever snipers or trick shots they had in their ranks were being decimated by their own crafty students in the dark.

Thus, when Gradon arrived at Althea’s position, it wouldn’t be hard to convince him that the battle was already over. Esther, evidently, was busy fighting her own battle, so Gradon raised his sword once more and stood in a defensive position in front of Althea and her patient. Whatever bullets came their way would be deflected back; whatever fool who thought it was smart to charge at them would be swiftly cut down by the boy.

“It sounds like they’re after something you have,” he said to the plague doctor girl, slashing at another bullet and sending it right back. “This wasn’t just an ambush; they planned this out to try and get something from us. But what could it be-oh, greetings Esther.” Gradon nodded in acknowledgement to the other girl, glad to see she could finally make it.

Hmm, 'bout halfway?

His thought was punctuated by the squelching sound of his trident being driven into the chest of one of the unfortunate rifleman's escorts, piercing the enemy soldier's heart with a splurt of red. It was dark, and even with the rare flashes of light and sound, it was hard to pay attention to the entire battlefield. They weren't lying when they said that wars were chaotic, whoo, but Tzi didn't know if this counted as war. It was, however, certainly clamorous. Still, he was able to know that the tide was turning their way. He could smell it in the air. At least half of the attackers were either dead or disposed of, so if they played it right ...

Tzi pulled his trident out, dark blood dripping from the shaft as he darted towards any of the enemy stragglers. Minimising his profile wasn't going to keep working anymore, but that didn't mean he was going to stop being all quiet; each step he made was light, the dirt below shifting and crumbling only the slightest before he was gone, crossing the inky night with as little noise as possible. He held in his breath, fingers tightening around his weapon as one of the riflemen came closer.

Gotcha.

Breath hitched in his throat. The rifleman heard. It was too late. Feet digging into the earth with a crumple to support his stance, Tzi swung, the upper shaft of his trident singing through the air to bash hard against the head of the rifleman with a satisfying crack. Gotcha. He pulled back, trident lowering as the position of his fingers moved. He thrust forwards, weapon Lancing into the concussed enemy's chest thanks to the strength of his muscular frame.

Another guy down.

The others looked like they were doing well. At least that was what Tzi thought. He didn't actually really have much knowhow there thanks to the fighting; but as long as their blood was real pumping like his was, he knew they'd be putting up the good fight. The grenade guy sounded dangerous, but the others were in top of that.

He believed in their victory.

---

When Esther arrived at Althea's position, she found that she already had her own bodyguard. Gradon had gotten there earlier than she could and he already deflected some bullets heading to her position.

"Y-yes, nice to meet you too, Gradon!" Esther replied back. "T-thanks for covering for me! A-and sorry Althea for coming late!"

After Esther erected her barrier, she looked at Althea's patient worryingly. Now that she actually had the opportunity to look at him up close, she noticed how grave his wounds looked. Esther unconsciously shook in her boots and covered her mouth with her hands as she looked at the gruesome display. For a sheltered noble girl like her, it was certainly a new and unpleasant experience.

"I-is he going to be alright, Althea?" she blurted out. She instantly regretted it as that could sound like she was doubting Althea's abilities, which was certainly not her intention. She now just hoped she would take it well.

@TheWindel@DracoLunaris

---

Mercy had no choice but to abandon her facade. The battle was turning serious and fire spread. She looked around, planning out her next move. Then she noticed her skeleton had beaten the squad of soldiers, caving their chests in with a powerful blow. Mercy ordered it on, and it charged at the pair of shock troupers running towards Althea. Tackling one and and proceeding to bash in their skull with their own weapon. The skeleton took hit after hit, but showed no signs of crumbling.

Mercy looked around more and saw the captain under fire by one last rifleman. "Captain!" Mercy panicked, rushing rather than making sure it was safe. She ran quickly to the rifleman her skeleton had caved their chest in, and plunged Thanatos deep into the corpse. There was no time for theatrics as she siphoned part of her soul into the body and it began to move under her control. Taking a breath before continuing again; Mercy wobbled back, exhausted by the action and slowly made her way behind Gradon and next to the patient. She wanted to run in and help the captain herself, but she couldn't do that and control the deceased rifleman. Though she was tired, she didn't need any help; rather just staying out of the way and letting her comrades protect her.

The rifleman rose; muscles still warm from the recent death worked better than normal. Blood dripped from its wound and it took a minute for it to gather its gun. Despite being an ex-enemy soldier, it had no problem as it aimed down the long barrel of the rifle and took aim at the rifleman suppressing the Captain. It lined up the shot, taking as much time needed to aim before pulling the trigger. The bullet whizzed across the battlefield before passing through the enemy's head. The target collapsed, dropping his weapon and oozing blood out of the small hole in his head. Mercy's zombie grumbled, finding a new target. Taking shots at whatever enemy it could find that didn't put her comrades in danger of being shot themselves.

With the fierce rebuke of the Imperial Cadets, the cowardly and uncalled for attack was over before the enemy had a chance to cause any more damage than they already had.

Althea's medical skill saved Wagnil from certain death, though his life wasn't out of danger yet. This night would be the critical test of his will to live. Furthermore, with the damage he sustained, taking him to anywhere but Orello would be all but impossible.

Even so, the fallen scout summoned the rest of his resolve to reach for the masked doctor's hand with hi bloodied one. "Y—ou need to... mo—move... before it's... too late." Was all e could manage to say before passing out, not dead yet but too weak to remain conscious any longer.

"Good work, Cadets. You had your first taste of what war is really like and survived through it. I'm really proud of you," the Captain said as she rounded the Cadets, calling for their attention. "But don't get condescending just because of this. We don't know who these enemies are and what they are after so stay on guard."

The Captain sheathed her sword and approached Althea once more, touching her shoulder.

"Do you think we can move him? This position has already been compromised, our only option is to move away before the enemy send a patrol to look for them," the Captain asked in a soft, almost motherly, voice. Her gaze pointed at the dangerous rocky hills who seemed to be the only route where the chances of meeting the enemy were low.

"Everyone else who's not assisting Clemmons, gather everything that's essential and throw the rest at the fire started by Ferris. We cannot leave any trace of our presence here," Velocchio ordered sternly. "Whoever is not involved on this, search the enemy for any identification or intelligence we can gather—on the double, Cadets!"

Whoever searched the fallen enemy soldiers would notice that they carried no identification whatsoever under their light plate armors. Furthermore, not all of them matched the expected physiognomy of the Grand Duchy's people (usually possessing fairer skin and hair tones. In fact, some of the soldiers looked like citizens of the Alliance (with stout facial features and dark, curly hair). The only thing they all had in common was a tattoo of a snake curled around a dagger on their lower neck, right over their right collarbone.

What would the Cadets do, or think, of those findings?

Althea was startled by the appearance the red line, though fortunately she was in the middle of switching tools at the time. It took her a moment to find the source of the magic, Gerhardt, and once she realized it was friendly she quickly continued her operation. The Regeneration ability was helping seal his insides true, but it was also sealing her incisions which might have become inconvenient in a more lengthy procedure.

She tried to avoid being distracted by the two who arrived to help her, a difficult task with Gradon even in normal situations. She definitely appreciated him coming to protect her on his own volition, though she wasn't in any position to answer his queries while she focused.

“Book. After.”

Is all she gives him during the operation. Esther arrives a considerable amount of time after she was asked for. Althea’s focus on the patient meant she had no idea that the noble girl had been playing a vital role in keeping the other cadets from being shot. She was just rather peeved that she was basically done with the procedure when protection finally arrived.

She finished sewing shut Wagnil’s skin, applied bandages over the sutures and then frantically checked his pulse and breathing when the scout slipped into unconsciousness. Fortunately he was just resting, though it was going to be touch and go whether he ever woke up again. She put his comments aside for now, about the book, but she agreed, they needed to move him and soon. The fact that the enemy might come for them again if they stayed here did not cross her mind, but she knew they needed to get him to a proper hospital or at least somewhere warmer and more sterile than the middle of a forest.

“You showed up before we were reduced to paste so that's good enough I suppose. It looks like he will make it if he is allowed to rest”

she told Esther then turned to the captain

“We can move him if it is done gently, I recommend heading for the nearest town so he can get better care”

Then raising her voice to get their attention of everyone

“We need two strong volunteers and some poles of some kind to make a stretcher out off. TZI, Leon your trident and glaive might work for this”

She wasn’t sure whether any of the others might carry something like a 10 ft pole but she could probably make a stretcher out of the sheet and the two cadets pole mounted armaments. She would help whoever came to help set up the stretcher.

Having done as much as she could she finally got around to answering Gradon’s question as to why they were after her. She reached into her coat, retrieved the bloodied book the scout had been carrying and showed it to him. It reminded her She would have to make sure to retrieve her own journal from where it lay on the ground before they left.

“He was very insistent in giving this to me, in trying to make sure it didn’t fall into their hands. Maybe he stole it from them?”

She really wasn't shure. Holding it so that he (and anyone else close enough) could see it she opened the book and tried to work out what was so important about it. Her initial assumption is proved incorrect as it appears to be Wagnil’s journal for field reports. She rather frustratedly flicks through it, wondering why it was so important.

Then she reaches the end and spots a rather good sketch of soldiers that look just like the ones that attacked them. They seem to be guarding a coach and moving to Orello, though she is not sure how so few troops with the gear they have been drawn with would be able to take a fort like Orello. Not that she is a military expert but she was under the assumption you needed siegeworks and at least an equal number of troops to the place you're attacking.

There's some barely legible rambling from Wagnil about how suspicious that movement pattern is, along with the transcription of a conversation he appears to have somehow gotten close enough to have heard. The conversation was between two foot soldiers talking about the "special cargo" they were guarding and how they couldn't believe how easy it was to get it.

Then there's some hastily looking written scrawls, most of which are illegible apart from the words "... How could... she be...." the very last words being a scrawl saying "not let Bergm..."

“Captain! You might want to see this.”

---

Finally, the attack was over, with no casualties at all in their side, including the scout who only fell unconscious, not dead thankfully. Esther looked around with her characteristic bright smile as she saw everyone gather. She was glad that even though they were ambushed, they managed to come out unscathed.

Her smile didn't disappear as the captain gave her after-battle briefing, as she praised them for surviving their first battle. She was certainly proud of herself, as she had always thought she would run away or at least paralyzed in fear when she entered real combat. But today, she had proven to herself that she was capable of fighting just like the other cadets.

Her smile disappeared however when Althea sourly scolded her for her late arrival.

"I-I'm sorry!" she quickly apologized to the medic after the captain finished talking to her. "I-I was occupied with protecting the others you see!" Her eyes started to water. She really didn't want to disappoint her team mates. It's similar to how she didn't want to disappoint her grandfather, which was why she went to the academy in the first place. For all her cheerful personality, she actually had quite a low self-esteem inside.

She brought her lowered gaze back up, only to see that Althea wasn't really paying attention to her as she was occupied with the book on her hand. It seemed that the medic didn't really care that much about her blunder, which brightened her up somewhat. Curious, she got closer to her and took a peek at the book herself.

It seemed to be a journal of some sorts, the journal of the wounded scout it seemed. His name was Wagnil, and at first it was just some field reports that Althea quickly flipped over. But then, she flipped over to the page with a sketch of some soldiers. And they looked eerily similar to the soldiers they just defeated. So this poor man had seen this coming and was coming to warn them about the ambush? But in the sketch, they seemed to be guarding a coach and heading to Orello so he didn't know they were coming for them? After that, Althea flipped over some more pages about Wagnil rambling about their suspicious movements until she got to a page where he stated the conversation that he overheard from them, something about the special cargo they were guarding and how easy it was to get. And after that, some more scrawls that she couldn't make any sense whatsoever.

...No good... she's not good at deciphering this kind of stuff... her head started to ache when she put her mind into thinking about it...

"U-um, I-I'll go look around now!" she hastily declared to the medic before departing. She didn't want to be asked on what she thought by either her or the Captain on the journal, as she would just embarrass herself with just how shallow her analysis must be. So she decided she would do the Captain's orders to burn their unneeded equipment as she said they needed to leave no trace of their existence.

She headed straight to her tent, and sorting through her backpack, she found her spare dresses and undergarments. She had a thought of burning them as one of the "unnecessary" things they were supposed to discard but she quickly dismissed the thoughts. They were certainly essential, as she couldn't imagine herself wearing the same clothes for a prolonged period, especially with how dirty and sweaty they tend to get. So she looked around once more. Water bottle? Necessary. A box of cookies? Necessary for extra rations. Her secret mini-teddybear? Can't go to sleep without it.

In the end, she thought everything was essential so she ended up discarding not a single thing.

After that, she quickly headed back outside to do the captain's other order; searching the enemy for any intelligence or identification they could find.

This was no easy task for Esther either as when she got close to one of the enemy corpses, she quickly became squeamish at the thought of sorting through it. However, the captain's orders were absolute. That was one of the first things they drilled into her head when she first joined the academy. So she just had to be brave and tough herself up.

...In the end however, her efforts were in vain. None of them had any identification with them. They only had a similar tattoo on their lower necks, a really suspicious-looking tattoo of a snake curled around a dagger. She also noticed that they didn't all look like the Grand Duchy's people. One of the bodies she inspected looked like it belonged to an Alliance citizen. What's up with that?

Well, no matter. Her job was only to report her findings to the captain. Let her do all the thinking.

"Reporting in, Madam! The enemy didn't carry any identification with them! But they all have similar tattoos on their necks! A-and some of them looked like they came from the Alliance!" she shouted while giving a salute once she returned back to the captain.

@KoL@DracoLunaris

Natus heard that the battle was over, he was still alert that there may be more enemies coming, but he had to use this time efficiently. He was trained to move without a trace, so he did not need to go back and cover his tracks, however his allies was not as professional.

He walked over to the grenadier, as he appeared to be the most important of the men in whatever hierarchy they served. He took out out his notebook and quickly copy the symbol on his body into it. He was not a great artist, but he had a steady hand and while he could not capture every detail of the design, he would be able to copy it enough that it would be recognizable. Perhaps if he was given enough time to study the design and create a copy, he could create a forgery of it, however he could not presume that he had the time for it.

After he had copied the symbol into his notebook, he took the next page of his notebook and created a meaningless symbol and took his dagger and dragged a blue line down it. He then cut off his hands and legs to hide to obscure the fact the man died from cut tendons and draw attention to the body, and then he slashed his throat. He took the piece of paper and forced into the man's clothing and then turned the body over into the dirt so that hopefully the piece of paper will survive the fire.

He walked over to the captain without a sound, even when he was not trying to be sneaky, it would be easy to miss the short cadet with his light steps in the dark. He did the proper salute and then said in a low, serious voice, "Reporting. I have placed a tracking spell on a piece of paper and put it on the grenadiers body. Should they choose to investigate it and move it within a day's time, I will be able to know. If you will excuse me, there is still work to be done. I will now try to obscure our foot path." he said, leaving to move the dirt to hide any trails either side might of made, and he took a pair of boots from the corpses of one of the enemies to make false foot prints to confuse the enemy. He considered using the shoes of one of his comrades, however in his previous experiences, that would upset them.

@KoL

@DracoLunaris@KoL@Hammerman



"Gimme a jiffy!"

There wasn't much for Tzi to pack up; beyond the clothes on his back, his portable grill and his journal, there was little else that the giant young man really needed to bring places. So it was not long after their rout of their attacks that he answered Althea's call. His trident, wiped down with a raggedy cloth mere seconds prior, manifested in his hands once more, a twinkling steely colour now that the lifeblood of his enemies no longer coated its surface. That was some pretty good timing, because making a stretcher with a blood-encrusted weapon didn't sound too safe. Or very nice. It was real grotty.

He ambled casually over to where the medic was, muscled chest surprisingly covered for once. It wasn't uncommon (see: it was the normal thing for him) to catch sight of the 200cm tall man strolling around with his upper torso (excepting his mantle) laid bare to the light of the world. It was something that was less restrictive for him, less confining. Of course, it was also night time, and with the fires being put out, he needed the military uniform to keep himself warm.

"Those are some strange markings," he commented casually, trident pressed down against the earth so he could balance against it. His eyes were watching some of the bodies of the attackers while he waited for Althea to take his weapon. The tattoos were immediately evident. "They in a clan together or something?"

"Hmm, you are unfortunate...oh, you've already died?"

Leblanc blinked in a muted fashion as she sat upon the still corpse, disappointed the officer hadn't had a sturdier constitution. She wrenched her blade from the joint it had been ravaging and wiped it off on her victim's less blood drenched clothing, rather dissatisfied she hadn't been able to finish her work while he still drew breath.

The absence of screaming when she extracted the first femur bone really should have told her this, but once she was going there really was no stopping till the absense of conflict made this act of violation an enjoyable but moot point.

Leblanc flicked her tongue out and savored the scattered droplets she only now felt cling to her cheeks and noted the heavy taste of smoke was already permeating her taste buds. Arson hadn't been something she'd had any particular fondness for but she'd keep it in mind in the future if nothing else, as it was good backdrop for their rebuke of the attackers. As it were she rose to the sound of her own cracking joints and kicked the corpse onto its back to start rifling through for anything of interest.

Casting aside armor, clothing, and spare munitions, his belongings were spartan in the extreme. Not a map or scrap of parchment with hastily scribbled instructions to glean some method to this madness. There was no doubt that they had some larger host or camp that they attacked from, if only to offer reason for their lack of provisions, and they were reasonably close if they could relay orders without needed extensive documentation to convey it.

"Nice tattoo." The slasher said with an inquisitive quirk of her head and crouched over corpse's neck, her knife twirling idly within her palm as she took a moment to decide whether to carve off the whole head or simply the patch of skin for the sake of proof to their ambush. She'd have done either were she not perplexed to hear over the crackle of flame and stamping of feet that the scout had somehow survived and would need to be carried onwards. "Slow. Very slow."

Leblanc lost interest in claiming a trophy and ambled back down the hillside towards the captain, where several other cadets where already giving their report. As would be expected of her, blood stained or not, her words were succinct and banal in tone with only the sharpness of her gaze to betray her attentive state.

"Foreigners. Matching armor and armaments suggests they aren't bandits, though mercenaries are a possibility. Organized but no written orders, suggesting either this is a routine ambush site for them or they deployed recently with clear direction...we should move with haste. Shall I scout ahead?"


@KoL, @TheWindel, @Er0r, @Crimmy, @Hammerman, @Leotamer, @Mercurial, @DracoLunaris, @Mega Birb, @SilverDawn

As their conflict ended, Neno finally righted himself. For the entire ordeal he had been on his back taking shelter from the occasional blast and blood-curdling scream. The captain spoke to all of them. Something about burning any identification, searching the enemy for anything that's essential, and gathering the rest.

Truthfully, he couldn't hear anything that the commander actually said over the distance between them, the ringing in his ears, and the beating of his own heart.

He decided to investigate the one he killed. Even looking at him, Neno was uncomfortable. The long thin wound stretching across his neck, only to stop at the disjointed nape. Only giving a cursory glance, Neno memorized as much about the man as he could. His facial appearance, the snake tattoo, everything that didn't require Neno to touch the man. Thankfully, he didn't look like he was an Arcadian, which was good enough for Neno. He quickly left the corpse to rot, heading back to the main group.

The others had already said their findings. Neno had nothing new to add to the group. Of course, he could have said something, but anything he could have said would have been rather redundant.

Leon Brandeau

Leon looked upon their little battlefield with a feeling of contentment. They were victorious, and the villains that had seen fit to ambush them and wound one of their own had paid for their folly with their lives. Though he wasn't one to revel in death, it did feel a touch satisfying to know they had defeated their enemy. More than anything, they had proven that they weren't a bunch of swaddled officers from the capital; they could fight like the best of them, and this was their proof. But there were bigger battles ahead of them, to be sure. Leon was still concerned about that artillery; did they give up on it when they saw their immediate forces were annihilated? Goodness only knew whether this enemy of theirs had even more soldiers hiding in the wings, only waiting for news of the failure of their vanguard to strike. For now though, Leon just felt good about their successes.

He was pulled out of his line of thinking by Althea's call for assistance. More specifically, she wanted his glaive for an impromptu stretcher. Leon made his way over just like Tzi. He was a little bit concerned about handing his vessel over when they weren't entirely sure whether this enemy was completely gone, but he wasn't about to be selfish in the face of a comrade in need. As he joined the others, he heard their talk about the nature of their enemies. It seemed they were not Ducal soldiers as a cursory glance suggested, but potentially Alliance soldiers instead. They also mentioned they all shared some mysterious mark. It was curious to hear, but Leon had never been much for nutting out the mysteries behind the people he faced. He preferred to solider on and take orders, and he was more than prepared to do so, offering his glaive alongside Tzi's trident. "I'll help carry the stretcher too, if you don't mind." Leon offered to Althea. If he wasn't going to have his glaive on hand, he may as well be helping to carry Wagnill. Of course, it seemed like they had more pressing concerns than who was to carry their scout...

@DracoLunaris

The sounds of battle died. A familiar stillness settled like a heavy fog as everything became routine. Gather the evidence and any intel you can. Clean up. Well, burn everything to ashes in this instance. Going back to the camps edges, Crispin searched through the smoke and stench for any loose riflemen that may have fallen behind a tree or something. Blade still in hand, Crispin placed the hilt to his throat and the rapier unraveled itself and wrapped around his neck. Picking up the rifleman’s weapon, Crispin quickly disassembled it searching for any manufacturing marks or distinct parts that could lead to a location, or at least a country.

They are all kitted out is identical armour, this suggests an organization. Their weapons are uniform, so they have enough capital to purchase in bulk… or alternatively they are skilled enough to raid either an armoury or manufacturing plant without word spreading. While the former is more likely, the latter should not be discounted at this time. keeping a few of the more delicate pieces of the weapon, parts that would either need to be handcrafted or require specialized machinery in the hopes of tracking them down later, Crispin reassembles the weapon’s outer casing so that it appeared completely functional, then tossing it into a larger patch of fire. Searching the body, it was odd that the soldier’s features were mismatched compared to the compared to the uniform, however the tattoo suggested a black ops unit to Crispin. Dragging the body over to the flames, Crispin stopped when he almost tripped over an axe and an idea struck him. Picking the axe up he changed course and went over to Ferris, expecting her to likely enjoy his suggestion.

“Miss Ferris. Before you go scouting I want to test their weapons. Would you please prop this rifleman up? Maybe against a tree? I would like to decapitate him… I can test the effect on armor on my own. We can say smaller parts burn better if the weapons and test alone doesn't satisfy any queries.” The dead rifleman’s head jostled as Crispin offered the corpse to Ferris, the squelch of internal organs jostling audible for a small distance.

@Lonewolf685

---

"Alright, Cadets, it's time to move out!" The Captain shouted once she thought that enough time had gone by. "We have to report our findings to Orello— What, how can that be?" However her voice trailed off as soon as took a look at the journal Althea gave to her. "They certainly can't mean the Prime Minister Bergman, can they?"

"Stop acting like you are alone here," the Captain said to Natus, grabbing a hold of his shoulder before he could totally leave. "You are going to scout ahead, but only if you have back up. Ferris, you are going to team up with Finis and clear a path through the hillside. We don't need anymore scouts facing Wagnil's fate or worse," she said before letting Natus go. The route through the hill would no doubt be the worst for Wagnil, but not only would it cut almost full day of walking, it also seemed to be the only safe route they had now.

"Everyone, form a line, we are moving to Orello, now!" The Captain said before leading the formation toward the hillside.

The sounds of water from the stream that crossed the bottom of the rocky hills mixed with the howling of the wind in a sinister symphony. It was clear that the Cadets had yet to go through the worse this cloudy night had in store for them.

---

Finis did not even turn around, and spoke "While I believe it that if I was alone, I will be much more likely to go undetected, this is not the time or place to challenge your judgment. I will go slightly ahead of her, but I will remain in her attacking range. Should a natural event separate us, such as a possible storm, I will set off two explosions every one minute. Should an enemy attack me, and I have no other means of contacting the rest of the group, I will let off a series of four explosions. Should my mark move, I will move back to where Ferris was, and send her back to contact you. Is my plan of action agreeable, Captain? I can not force you to accept this plan, but I believe this would be the most effective course of action."

He took a few steps forward, and then waited for the rest of the group to get in formation, in particular Ferris.

@KoL @Lonewolf685

The fighting stopped just as soon as it had begun, leaving Gerhardt with three kills and his attire slightly bloodier than it had been earlier that night. Nothing he wasn't used to though. As the rest of the cadets collected their items and returned to the camp, the northerner made it a point to take on of the rifles from a dead gunman and loot as many bullets as he could from his corpse. He ended up with around ten loose rounds, which he pocketed, and whatever was still in the firearm. Then he heard Crispin mention something about wanting to mutilate a corpse, to which he responded by rushing over while slinging the gun over his shoulder. "Crispin, take what you want from them, but don't tear apart a body! That makes us no better than savages!" With unwavering determination, he stared the affluent Mr. Clean down with a sort of disappointment, hoping to appeal to his high opinion of himself.

It was likely someone would notice his halt and confrontation of an immoral action outside the current triad of two sadists and a justiciar, and if not, the situation would probably progress to either a fight or the situation decompressing itself.

She grunted in affirmation of the captain's orders even as her brow rose in concern of Finis' own perception of events. Wouldn't it have made more sense for the bombardier to be serving in a more supportive role? Leblanc saw as much synergy between them as she had with artillery. By all accounts she could calculate trajectories and fire with speed and accuracy, but it left most of her talents under utilized.

But if the captain wanted them to go in pairs then she wouldn't argue. Worst case scenario he would decrease the number of gunshots heading towards her so all was not a waste.

Before she could head off and storm the hillside, the ever dapper Clean approached with an interesting request for assistance she thought looked rather interesting if it weren't such a blatant display. Timing was key with releasing sadistic impulses and his must have been off as, sure enough, one of the more upstanding recruits intercepted him with a mind to raise hell over the grisly mutilation.

"Perhaps another time." She remarked to Clean from over Gerhardt's shoulder, clearly not interested in getting involved when she'd rather slip off and take point on their expedition across the slopes. A treacherous path for such a group, especially with the wounded. If they hadn't been blessed with a competent physician then they wouldn't be burdened with a soon-to-be-corpse Leblanc had already written off. Were he to survive this night he'd still not be of any service for some time, if ever.

"Keep up, Finnis." Her voice rang softly before melting amidst the whirling shadows her conflagration cast and she could be glimpsed bolting up the infirm stone and steep embankments with nary a pebble pushed out of place. The main host could be as slow as it wished, leaving her all the time in world to enact upon any possible adversaries what Clean was now denied.


@Er0r, @Crimmy, @Hammerman, @Leotamer, @Mercurial, @DracoLunaris, @Mega Birb, @SilverDawn, @KoL, @TheWindel