[IC] ~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

[Daxam]

---

---

Come on, calm down, Zac told himself as he took a deep breath. He could feel his heart beating at a mile a minute in his chest from some odd combination of excitement, nervousness, and utter dread. He thought he was ready. He thought he'd be able to handle whatever came his way. But, ever since hearing about the Hill 58, then finding out he had been assigned to the 15th Atlantic Rifles, the regiment that had lost 700 men and women during that battle, he hadn't been able to get his nerves completely under control. He'd be fine for awhile, until he thought about the stories he had heard, then he'd end up leaning against a wall, trying to calm down like he was now. You're not even on the train, but you're acting like you're in the middle of active combat! Just think about it like hunting with your da back home...No, no, don't think that. That's bad. Just take deep breaths and you'll be fine. Breathing deeply, he leaned back against the station wall, his rifle next to him, as he thought about how he ended up waiting to go into war.

It all started with that letter, telling his family that Colin had gone missing and was presumed dead. Then the arguments between himself and his parents, how he just couldn't accept that Colin was dead, that he just had to go to war just to try to find him. His parents eventually relented just before his 18th birthday when he pulled the I'll-be-eighteen-soon card. Knowing Zac would have enlisted after his birthday, they had decided it was best to let him go rather than risk him resenting them. A few months of training and here he was, getting ready to go into battle.

He glanced over to a pair of young men, about his age, as they talked about sending the enemy running and found himself wishing he shared in that confidence instead of trying to get his heart to settle down. It was then that he remembered something his father had told him before he left: Your calm heart is your greatest strength. Be the anchor your allies will need when shit hits the fan. Zac took another deep breath and felt his heart settle. Don't think about it as killing the enemy, another voice says, this time his sharpshooting instructor. Think about it this way: from your position, whether it be high up or well behind the frontline, you're more likely to see threats before any of your comrades do. For example, an enemy force attempting to flank your allies. Being able to see and react to those threats before any of your allies will allow you to save more lives than if you were fighting next to them.

I can do this.

He looked down at his rifle. Instead of seeing it as a harbinger of what was to come, as something to be afraid of, he began to see it as a tool to save the lives of those he would come to care for. Instead of being purely a sword to kill the enemy with, it would be a shield to protect his friends with.

I can do this.

Zac reached down and picked up the rifle. It felt heavy. But, if it meant he could keep people alive and stay alive long enough to find his brother, he'd gladly carry that weight as long and as far as he possibly can. Hopefully until the end of the war, that is.

I will do this.

Shouldering his rifle, Zac looked ahead. His heart was calm. His mind was no longer racing with worst-case scenarios. Carrying his greatest weapon, he finds himself smiling easily, just like he used to at home. "Right, then," he said as he began walking toward the train. "Let's get this show on the road."

[Ithradine]

---

_{Train to Amone - Trial by Fire}

---

Daniel's nodded "Thanks." He said simply, his eyes searched the seating of the cabin and sat across from Diana with a good bit of space separating him from Kalisa "Hey." Sentences beyond a few words seemed out of his reach now. He was honestly quite surprised she was allowing him in the first place with so little resistance. To say he was uncomfortable sitting in that cabin was an understatement. That didn't change the fact that there was no slipping away from situations like this. With his promotion came the understanding that he would have to deal with female squad mates. There was no physical pain he couldn't endure but mental pain...that was an entirely different beast. Which is why he tried put himself in the least amount of danger.

He couldn't meet Diana's eyes but he could see the way she was reacting to him. There seemed to be something that she wanted to say to him. That he was an utter ass? That he hurt her feelings? He sat back against the seat, his eyes meeting hers for the first with a look of surprise that quickly shifted back into his usual look of cold indifference "It's not something I really wanted." He replied coldly. Once he said it, he bit his tongue inside his closed mouth before continuing "...but thank you." Kalisa also expressed her congratulations, to which he let out a short chuckle looking down at the floor between his boots "That I did. I'm good with a rifle, but I am better fighting up close." He avoided mentioned his first thought of how similar yet different fighting in the trenches was to fighting in back-street alleys.

Everything was going better than he had hoped and Kalisa's words had gotten him to relax just a little. However, the question that Diana had every right to ask forced him to tighten up again. For a brief moment his eyes burned intensely at Diana with a ember of that anger, before he took a deep breath. Daniel closed his eyes and crossed his arms "Because some of us weren't born with a golden spoon." His tone was pensive but he did not go further as a silence filled the air. There was something about the fact she was so care-free that pissed him off.

His eyes centered on the rifle on question and was grateful for the distraction. Barely Passed? The idea that a soldier like her even existed was all incomprehensible yet at the same time it...was somewhat sad. He didn't expect to feel that. Daniel without a word reached out and took the rifle from her hands and examined it closely. Dirt and grime covered the mechanical parts which could cause a jam later on the field, an event that could end her life "Alright, pay attention." He said strongly with a heavy sigh "I will show you how to properly clean your rifle. It could cost you your life." A jammed weapon was much harder to clean when you were being shot at. He took the cleaning process nice and slow, explaining to Diana all of the steps and proper procedures. The entire time his anxiety towards woman seemed to fade away. It wasn't until they stopped that he finished, giving here back the rifle looking a little beat-up but almost good as new "There. Now you know." His voice still was expressing much emotion, but it had noticeably lightened up.

@SMS@Landaus Five-One

[Conscripts]

---

It had been quite days ever since. Michael had found himself drained of all the commodities he could bring with him till now. He hadn't received any responding letters from his family yet, so no reason to write another one. He had fidgeted around with his deck of cards so much now that he could probably start a career in cardistry once he got back from the war. Alive and able-bodied that is. Who knows. Maybe he could impress some ladies with his tricks, either physically or mentally. But that would sound pretty cheesy to be honest. He wasn't that guy to come around and be flirty with others like Jean. Now that he mentioned it, where is he right now?

As Michael sat and read the book about automobile for the third time in a row now, perhaps attempting to memorize each and every words, the constant yawns and sighs of boredom quickly slapped his senses out from the pages of the book. He could heed the racks of the train door and the deafening toots of the steam locomotive as the signification of the next stop was all too clear. Sounds of the boots clacking on the wooden floor rhymed with the voice that boasted of great distinct and individuality. And for once in a while it sounded quite...uplifting, yet a little saddening. They were excited. They were yelling things like glory and honor. That they would be kicking Imperial asses once they arrive at their destination...just like they did before Hill 58. Seven hundred souls wouldn't make it back. Who knows if the remaining two hundreds would dare to repeat what they said to everybody if they did have the guts to say it.

Michael continued to focus, or tried to, on the pages, ignoring the soldiers outside. The train defiantly gave another roar as the sound of metal rail clashing with the locomotive creaked. A while after the train departed, Michael heard another conversation going on. Pretty loudly in fact, even standing out against the thumps of metal and the chatters of other soldiers. It wasn't really nice to eavesdrop on others, but hey, that was never his intention to begin with. They talked loud enough for him to hear anyway. Every.Single.Word

"Oooooh, Corporal Charpentier has a lovely deaaaaaaaar!"

The book in Michael's hand slammed closed in a second.

She's pretty. That voice just gave it away pretty obviously. No wonder whoever is out there were laughing so hard they could probably die. Poor guy just jinxed himself. He didn't know...

But they did mention about Marathon halfway through the conversation. He's on the train? Interesting. Michael had heard stories about him being chanted over the camps during training. He was described to be a pretty noble fellow, doing acts of kindness every chances he could get, while being all brave all around. Hearing so, despite having never met this fellow, he did have a little respect. But considering they had fairly similar pattern as the stories about MIDDLETON, Michael was quick to halt his impressions. A content of a character should not be judged so quickly. Maybe Michael could come out and have a chat up with this man, Thomas Marathon Carter, and probably see the faces of these new recruits as well. He was running out of activities anyway.

Michael placed the book into his rucksack before standing up and pass by Jean, completely unaware of whatever was in his mind right now. He walked along the hall of soldiers. Some recognizable, having been through hell on Earth at Hill 58 and some before that. Though most were strangers. Just as he would expect really. They were pretty fresh. Eager and...curious. As he trotted down the cabins, some of the recruits were turning their eyes over like bees to the floras. Maybe because they didn't think such a boy would be in the military. They had their reasons to mistaken him for such a thing. More a shock's party to let them know that he was older or the same age than most of them. Or maybe he wasn't among the freshmen joining war in the batch. He didn't look very aesthetically pleasing. His uniform still contained the soils of the place where seven hundred people died. They were probably drawing comparisons to how they would look after this. So this is the feeling when he was coming to the front days earlier. Now the freshmen had become the veterans. Not exactly that battle-hardened to say, but he did receive his baptism of fire.

Inevitably, Michael would find this man. The bent hat gave the identity away pretty obviously (they had their reasons to be proud of the signature), making filtering much easier. He was with another soldier. This guy though...

It was a rare sight indeed. He looked much shorter than Thomas was. And as he approached the two soldiers, the shock was even made clear that he didn't even need to look up to face the opposite side anymore. What are the chances of having two of this in the military to begin with.

"Good day gentlemen." He gave the two of them a quick salute as he slowly made his way over. "If I am not mistaken, you are the Thomas Carter, is it correct?"

Michael then turned over to the smaller individually. Wow he's even shorter than him. What a pleasant surprise. For once Michael is taller than someone else.

"I've met my equal. It's a pleasure to be in this with you fellow for the next one." He tried to creak out a bit of optimism for once. He wasn't too into this, but maybe perhaps with the help of these tough and unkillable soldiers, they could escape the horrific statistics that was Hill 58.
@LetMeDoStuff@Brithwyr

[Landaus Five-One]

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Her Response to Daniel – Train to Amone

---

On August 26th

Diana looked excitedly at Kalisa, which asked her a question that made her really want to wear the scarf. She could tell, however, she really enjoyed the comfiness of the scarf though. ”I w-would love to try on the scarf. It looks really c-comfy in h-how you put it on.” Diana said with a smile on her face. She couldn’t wait to try on that comfy scarf. However, she got distracted with Daniel saying thanks and sitting down a bit away from Kalisa. It made her a bit confused about that but she didn’t want to bring up anything. She did move her hand to her pendant necklace, however and just held it a bit before Daniel started to speak. ”Mom and D-Dad, which I hope t-that nightmare doesn’t bug me anymore. It’ll b-be really nice to s-speak to you via letters.” Diana thought to herself, which was before Daniel spoke to her about her question.

In her thoughts she was thinking over a response for what Daniel was saying, until he actually said the reason for his rage. It kinda made her gasp in a bit of shock specifically at what he said. She couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed with herself but its mostly because of how she was raised compared to other people. However, her family weren’t rich, but they had wealth of happiness over wealth of being rich and famous mostly because of the fact they wanted to protect the Darscens more than anything. ”Ohh t-that’s why you yelled at me? Because of my ignorant and lack of knowledge of the outside world. My parents kinda never really allowed me to enjoy life as a fulfilling as it was. They wanted to protect me but I chose becoming a soldier in this bloody hellhole of a war. I wanted to be more than what my older sisters saw me as, a spoiled brat. Even though our family is a family of bakers and my mother fights too much. With people similar to him in how they react to Darscens.” Diana said, with only a tick of her stutter in the first part. It is kinda obvious, which person that she was referencing at the end in terms of Middleton. She completely forgot her nightmare mostly because of the fact the man, which yelled at her told his reasons it calmed her down enough.

Diana was grateful that Kalisa and Daniel both showed her the piece of information and detail to clean her rifle. She definitely paid attention to their lesson since it was definitely important to see because she is a bit naive compared to what is going on. The entirety of the lack of knowledge on her end wasn’t her fault but more of the fault of her Drill Sergeant, which she was assigned. ”I thank you both for the help of what you taught me.” Diana responded to both Kalisa and Daniel’s advice of cleaning her rifle. The look in her face kinda showed the reason for her entire being but she’s a bit hardheaded and a bit blunt, which is a problem.

In all the commotion, which was helped by someone in the squad giving her and everyone in the cabin rations. She was definitely grateful for something to eat since she was starving and didn’t really want to die of starvation. Her parents always told her to never do anything on an empty stomach, which is hilarious. ”Thank you. Yeah, don’t want to die of starvation now, which would suck.” Diana said with a smile on her face to Britta. She kinda joked about dying of starvation since this war could do so much worse to her than that. It wasn’t that much of a funny joke, however.

_{@SMS@Ithradine@FalloutJack}

---

September 2nd

Diana had a bit of regret in her eyes while staring at her pendant necklace. That was pretty much beautiful, which had the pictures of her parents in them. However, she didn’t really want to open it since it was a bad omen to open it in a battlefield setting. She couldn’t feel like she forgot something, really important, which was the fact she forgot to write her parents. ”I should go see how everyone is doing besides Kalisa since she’s in this room. I wonder what the commotion is going on outside.” Diana thought to herself, which she did hear a loud voice of a different accent voice laughing her ass off at something she said. The accent was definitely foreign to her since she never heard it before. She got up and put away her pendant necklace just in case any thieves are on the train.

In the moment of getting up and opening the door, however, she did try on the scarf before today, but gave it back to Kalisa since yeah. She wants to be super friendly to the Darscens and not a prick like Middleton. It was definitely comfy and enjoyed, how it felt on her skin it made her happy to try it. She got out and started to walk around the train with her smile on her face, which was covering up the fact she forgot to write her parents. She noticed the Oceanic troops, which made her face drop in awe mostly because they looked much more elite than she did. However, she did see Michael chatting to the Oceanic soldiers and new reinforcements. She walked over and waved to who seemed to be the leader of the Oceanic Soldiers, who’s named Thomas. ”Oh hello Michael, who are you talking too?” Diana asked a bit of a dumb question. She had heard tales of a man named Marathon. However, she noticed a shorter male than Michael, which he was talking to as well.

She couldn’t help but smile and wave at the new recruit. However, in the back of her head she hoped no one would call her short since it is a bit of a pet peeve of her. ”What’s your name?” Diana asked towards Gwyn since she wanted to know. She did think he was cute, but no one can be as cute as Jean. The entirety of her being was a bit awed at how adorable this new recruit is, however, she’s not going to assume his age by his height, however. She smiled gently and looked over to Michael and wanted to ask him something else. ”I got to ask Michael, how old are you?” Diana asked Michael that important question and waited for his response.

_{@Conscripts@LetMeDoStuff@Brithwyr}

[FalloutJack]

It was Isaac's opinion, after enough of this, that trains were boring.

Let's break it down from his perspective, just for a moment. He was a farmer, an animal handler. He'd spent his life in wide-open spaces, free to roam anywhere he liked. He made and memorized trails, discovered secret places, got to find all kinds of things. Sometimes, he did this with towns, because they had all kinds of nooks and crannies. When he was taken for recruitment and shoved into a cell, he was miserable and had nothing to do. When he was on a boat to cross the channel, he had a bit more freedom to roam, but not that much. When he was in basic training, he made the MPs earn their keep by trying to duck out of sight for a while, all because he was bored.

So, here he was now. He was in a room, a series of rooms stretched along a moving corridor, and he had nothing to do. He didn't have a book, and he didn't have Jean's penchant for writing or Lucia's...let's assume she'd been sketching pictures, when he saw her with a pad. They hadn't accorded him the basic freedoms to entertain himself when he was recruited, because the word you're really looking for is conscripted, forced, drafted... That left him with few amenities because he hadn't really had many allowed. So, the point of it was that during this train ride, Isaac had spent his time eating, sleeping, talking and such with the others, and looking for different ways to amuse himself.

He had, in fact, gone a bit too far, a couple of times.

You see, he would train the wolves and play a game at the same time, back on the farm. He'd go off and find a place to hide, and he'd wait and see if any of them could find him. The truth is, they always won. Always. Wolf noses are undefeatable. However, it was fun to see how long it would take for them to notice him. This is one thing Isaac attempted to do on this train to keep amused, and those who found him were not very pleased with his presence. His only real excuse for it, when questioned by someone of authority was 'Training exercise'. Technically, it would help. He just wasn't really suppose to do it. And the second thing he wasn't suppose to do was try and get on the roof of the train. He hadn't done it yet, but every now and then, he'd given it some effort.

Right now, though, right this minute...he was at rest. Not necessarily sleepy. He was just at that stage of boredom where he'd decided to just let time go by. He figured it was probably for best before meeting the new additions to the team. When the train came to a halt at a station, he knew - even without opening his eyes - that now was the time of their arrival. Sitting where he was, he began to listen carefully. As the wolves had learned from him the ways of the human world, he had learned to trust his other senses, like they did. Not to say that his nose was any better now than it was in the beginning. He just paid it and his ears a bit more heed, trying to understand more of what they were telling him. Ears worked better, for sure.

Ears made him aware of something funny going on.

There was someone with an unusual accent - at least, it wasn't one that he was use to, not like anybody back in Edinburgh - talking with Jean now. It sounded like she'd swiped his notepad and was reading it. Isaac knew that Jean had been writing something because he thought Isaac had been asleep when he was doing it, yesterday. But he was aware, and this made what he was hearing all the more hilarious. What was it with the outlandish girls that seemed to put a smile on his face? Was it because they didn't act like normal girls? Maybe. Who knows? It was funny, though, especially when the girl started interrogating Jean and shouting out. Isaac continued to listen in. you'd think he wouldn't be able to hear through a closed cabin door, but the fact is...he'd asked Britta to leave it open a crack if she saw it open. She thought it'd be funny to listen in on others a little too, see what they thought about things and handle them appropriately. Nothing underhanded, mind you. Just to see what troubles people and hope to address it. You don't get to be the backbone of a group by osmosis. You have to listen... Right now, Isaac was hearing alot.

My god, she goes on like a mile a minute.

The girl that Jean was talking to seemed to be...well, she was one of the new shocktroopers, Oceanic, and...and...she wasn't to do what to Middleton?! Can anyone even be allowed to think that? Middleton wasn't a man. He was a slab of granite, hoping to become a very famous statue. You can't like that...can you? I mean, there are laws about that sort of thing. Any relationship that should be considered holy and decent must involve two human beings, not a walking pile of shit. And who the fuck was Marathon? Might've heard that name in town a few times, but you can understand why Isaac, of all people, didn't know anything about him. And with that, there was offically too much going on here. Time to get up. Isaac got to his feet and stretched with a minor grunt, because once again Middleton was putting everything on Jean, like he was trying to break him through sheer pressure.

He stepped out as Jean was still talking to...oh, a very cheerful-looking blonde who looked like she had maybe a couple years on both of 'em. Not exactly as working tough as Britta, per se. Maybe even a bit like Diana in the looks department. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps? Maybe. She seemed nice, but Isaac had been listening, and she was very very independent, like stepping-on-a-few-toes independent. Could be handy, later on, but for now it might be best to make sure she wasn't driving Jean over there crazy. She ran off before he got onto the scene in proper. Jean looked properly confused. Isaac didn't blame him.

"I'm not sure I understood half of what was coming out of her mouth, but I take it that's one of our recruits? Should I see about keeping her from messing with everybody's...what?"

He looked past Jean down the hall, spotting Michael there talking with...holy crap.

"Hey, we're getting another short sapper. If they're all like Michael, we could have no trouble with this war at all!"

After all, Michael was a decent guy, so if anyone of his stature in his line of work was any good, they would be having a better time dealing with these battles.

"Oh, and we should probably get someone - NOT Middleton - to see about getting people something to pass the time on these things. Trains are just no fun at all."

Not after all the thrill and majesty of it has worn off, and certainly not during wartime, where it has no glamour at all.

[Jeep Wrangler]

---

_{Train to Amone, September 2nd - Approaching the Recruits}

---

His craving for the baguette was cut short by the welcoming of Isaac. He seemingly had overheard the extremely bizarre conversation shared between himself and Freya only moments ago and was quick to question the whole interaction as much as Jean had previously. Within his first assumption, Isaac did have some falsehood about the knowledge he knew of the Oceanic woman that'd just unveiled far too much details about her plans with her love life. It was an easy mistake to make, however Jean knew exactly what there was to expect. He looked down to him and chuckled lightly to himself, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his head once more with a slightly confused tone to his voice.

"You don't have to keep her in check, Isaac. She hasn't yet caused any...well...formal issues that could compromise anything we have, but we still can keep as much of an eye out for her as we should the rest of the Platoon. Though, that being said, I don't think she'd like being called a recruit. In fact, she's more veteraned than all of our platoon put together. Almost all of the Oceanic soldiers transferred to our regiment have quite a strict combat record that goes all over Europa and beyond." Jean sighed as he saw her once more dart in and out a few more cabins, her accent still quite audible from the small distance they held. It was a strange puzzle as to how someone as joyful and giddy as her could hold such formidable experience. Jean had sneaked in a few peeps towards the records of their replacement soldiers, ones who were specifically assigned to his platoon, and had understood how expertly she managed her role alongside the great Marathon. They'd come together from a long-way away, and so it was almost completely understandable how someone of her calibre garnered the respect and success that she held. However, her personality also helped solidify the reasoning behind why she was yet to be promoted, even with her experience. "I'm sure you've heard all about them. Her, specifically, she'd been to that Southern Front that was in the news so much. Operation: Breaking Gates, someone mentioned a few days ago. Went through hell and back, and then dove straight into it again as soon as she returned to the central Europan theatre."

Jean eagerly placed his hands on his hips, staring blankly down the train's carriage with a small smirk on his face. The more he thought about the things she'd done for her sake, as well as protecting the others around her, made her seem all the more admirable in his eyes. It nearly made him forget about the questionable things she'd brought up during their conversation, to which he shuddered once more upon reminiscing over it. Quickly, he looked back to Isaac and nodded with a somewhat determined glare carried upon his face. It was, for once, the most inspiring he seemed to look before then.

"Anyway, I can see to your request. I hear the next stop has a few books and newspapers waiting for us to catch up with the worldly news of the Federation, but those'd get boring. If you want, I can grant you permission to take a peak at the storage compartment. I took a look there last night with Lucia, who seemed to be scavenging through the private letters of others. Whilst I don't condone it fully, I must say there's some rather humorous things written and drawn by individuals. I hear Britta has some sort of song written down there, but most of it was scribbled out it seemed. Other than that, I've got the duty to introduce myself to the other new recruits...the actual recruits, this time around." Jean walked forward, nodding to Isaac as he left, before he stopped and turned around, lowering his voice towards the familiar NCO that had just spoken to him. "O-Oh, and if you heard anything about a poem for Kalis-...uhh...a girl, don't mention it to anyone. Pretty please?"

With that stated, Jean had to wander around with the thoughts of who to meet. From carriage to carriage, he began to see each and every new recruit he could find and introduce himself. Jean held a somewhat confident and joyful happiness as he did so, mainly because he knew that the spirited troops that had joined them were exploding with morale and courage themselves. To hold such begrudgingly dark undertones to everything he said would just rain shit down upon their fabulous parades.

The more he went by, the more he spoke to. Jean intentionally avoided Michael's new partner to talk to. Ironically, even though he showed so much excitement for the man, the myth and the legend for being present, Jean entirely missed and walked past Thomas Carter without even knowing it was him. Instead, he went further down the carriages until he eventually got to someone who he recognised from the files. It was a new face, definitely, and for once it was someone from Europa as oppose to the Dominion of Oceania. Jean had a faint memory of reading his registration file and knew the tiniest piece of information about him, but it was good practice to introduce himself towards the ones that had to work alongside the Corporal further down the line. Confidently, Jean walked forward and extended a hand towards the marksman, who held his scoped rifle firmly within his hands.

"Private Ward, I presume? I'm Corporal Jean-Robin Charpentier, I'll be your NCO for this day forward. Just thought I'd stop by and give a friendly welcoming, as well as point you in the right direction towards the rest of our Platoon if you don't mind giving them a small shout." Jean's smile was genuine, for once, and instilled a great deal of warmth towards his output. He hoped to try and comfort or include the new soldiers of his Platoon as if they'd been there the entire time. Even so, it was quite clear that Jean was fairly interested in the Longfield he held and its magnified optics. Jean had always pondered what it would be like to be a marksman of any calibre, but it wasn't something he could truly picture himself. "Come very far to get here? I heard good things about your potential marksmanship, and I would like to say I welcome it eagerly. I can assure you that our next destination should be quite fitting for someone of your roles, perhaps."

_{@Daxam@FalloutJack}

[Daxam]

---

---

Zac slowly scanned the carriage, somewhat surprised by the amount of activity. For a regiment that had just lost so many people, things were surprisingly lively. Of course, there were still people with that haunted look in their eyes, almost as if they were still living in those moments on Hill 58. On top of that, upon second observation, much of the activity did seem to come from the newer arrivals, those who hadn't yet been scarred by battle. That really must have been a bad fight, he thought as he searched for an available seat. The rumors might hit a bit closer to home than I thought...

He had been about to move onto another carriage when he heard his name. Turning around, he found himself looking at a young man who looked about his age. He had the kind of build Zac wouldn't immediately think of when thinking about a soldier, but he was aware that looks could be deceiving. Even if a rabbit may not look intimidating, it still has some nasty claws, after all. There had to be something to him to have earned the rank of 'corporal.'

Zac smiled back and shook the offered hand, grateful for the friendly face, and said, trying for a joke, "Yes, sir, that would be great. I'd love to meet the people I'll be spending the worst months of my life with." He chuckled and dropped his hand, noticing how the corporal kept glancing at his rifle in interest. Hearing his questions, Zac added, "You could say that. Born and raised in Delfzijl, just outside o' Verviers. And I appreciate it, but I'm nothing too special. The scope does most o' the work, if I'm honest."

He slipped his rifle off of his shoulder and held it out to Jean, saying, "If you'd like, you can take a look at it, since you seem curious. It's not too much different from a standard Longfield, besides the scope. From what I understand, they just pluck the more accurate guns off o' the assembly line and slap a sight on it."

@LetMeDoStuff

[Jacky]

Luke Godfrey

A heavy sigh escaped Luke as he walked through the train cars, frustrated that he was having a hard time locating his new unit. Looking around he saw several of the new recruits like him getting settled in, many of them just as excited or a bit nervous like him. Though he had managed to spot a few of the veterans mixed in with his fellow recruits and could tell from the hardened looks on their faces that they were less then excited for the coming battle. As he spotted out the veterans he began to remember that most of them were from the recent battle of Hill 58, a battle that apparently made a huge blow to their numbers. A part of him wanted to ask a few questions about the battle, but he held his tongue as he knew he needed to report to his NCO. Last time he failed to report to his superiors he had to clean and empty the latrines for a week. A shiver ran up his spine at the memory and picked up the pace.

Soon though he spotted a familiar face that belonged to the smallest recruit he had ever seen in basic training. It took Luke a few seconds to remember his name since they trained in different groups, but with the snap of his fingers it came back to him. Gwyn was his name, he hoped it was his name anyway since he hated getting people's names wrong. He also just hoped he remembered him, though last time they interacted with each other he ended up spilling a full bucket water and fish heads on him. It was of course an accident, but he never got to properly apologize as his drill sergeants dragged him away for his punishment. When they were assigned their units they were assigned to the same one so it would be good to get to know him, plus he seemed to be surrounded by a few unfamiliar faces so hopefully they could help in his search for his unit.

Clearing his throat and making his way through the car he waved towards the Gwyn with his usual grin. “Oi, Gwyn!” he called out as he made his way to the small sapper, bumping into a few other recruits and earning a few growls and complaints of watching where he was going. He simply gave them an apologetic chuckle and salute before finally reaching Gwyn and the group that surrounded him. Looking down to the young sapper with his grin he patted him on the shoulder and chuckled. “Hey there mate, thank god I found ya. I’m having trouble finding our unit,” he said before looking to the more experienced looking soldiers with a smile. “Hopefully you’re all from said unit,” he said before looking at each of them with a grin.

He knew one of them was named Thomas, apparently he was a big deal within the military, but he never paid too much attention to the stories about him. No point really since he was going to become an even bigger legend than him one day. Giving him a quick nod he looked to the other soldiers and held up his papers. “You guys are from the 15th Atlantic Rifles, right? I'm part of the new wave of recruits to join the Platoon,” he said as he adjusted his rifle on his shoulder. “Names Luke Godfrey, but ya can call me whatever ya feel like,” he stated with a smile before rubbing the back of his neck with a small sigh. "Do any of you happen to be the NCO I'm to report to?"

@FalloutJack@Landaus Five-One@Conscripts@Brithwyr@LetMeDoStuff

[Jeep Wrangler]

---

_{Train to Amone, September 2nd - Approaching the Recruits}

---

Jean was a little confused by the words that the marksman used. He was quite the excited young lad, it seemed, who wanted nothing more than to do his part for his country, alliance and people. What a poor individual. It might have been propaganda that had lead the poor fool out to these forsaken lands with the intent to kill because a poster or a Prime Minister said so. How unfortunate this whole unnecessary conflict was. Ignorance was sometimes said to be blissful, yet Jean couldn't help but lose his smile when he joked about spending the upcoming worst months with them. If he hadn't of smiled and chuckled, Jean would've understood what he meant, but taking such extremities with a light grain of salt, rubbing it hoarsely into the wounds that the previous battle had struck against the Regiment, Jean quickly dismissed the possibility of understanding truly what this ignorance was. It wasn't his fault, of course, but Jean knew it was something to pity. Besides that, he simply sighed to himself and shuffled with his pockets before responding.

"Yeah...worst months...If only you knew that to be true. Anyway, don't call me Sir. Should'a told you in camp that an NCO gets referred to by their rank and not by a commissioned status of respect, because I don't know. Our Captain kind of gets cranky when we don't use the proper procedures of formalities, however when he's not around we always seem to refer to one another by first names, if we know them. So, feel free to call me Jean, if you want, unless you prefer to use the mouthful of Corporal Robin-Charpentier. He shrugged to himself with a somewhat decent smile on his face before looking back down towards the offered Longfield. Jean hadn't yet seen through their optics but imagined it was more than likely the same experience as looking through the pair of binoculars still wrapped around his neck. Thinking about that tool, however, caused him to look down to the binoculars. They weren't the new issued ones that all the other NCOs got on their promotions but instead it was still the one from the corpse he plucked on Hill 58. The gruesome truth behind that older model made him shudder slightly, as command refused to give him another whilst he still held the custody of that particular apparatus. "I'm...fine, honestly. Can't find more things to distract myself now I have all this responsibility on my shoulders. Only recently became a Corporal and started out as a Lance Corporal only a week or two ago. Not exactly experienced, I'd say, but...well...everyone here has already been through a lot, more than we need. I can only imagine what Amone will be like..."

_@Daxam

[FalloutJack]

As soon as Jean said he didn't have to keep her in check, the farm boy gave off a look and a smile like 'You're sure?'. But if Jean didn't want him to and she was actually their senior, then there was really no problem. However, in no way was Isaac gonna believe that...ummm...what was her name again? Baines? He didn't think there was much in the way of strict about her. In fact, the young man was thinking 'I think the were you're looking for about her is 'loose', Jean'., though he wasn't about to say that one out-loud. He also didn't want to say that the crazyness was starting to remind him of the crazy candy girl, Mila. They didn't even get to know anything about her beyond that. Well, not him, anyway. Back on topic, though, Jean was talking about a particular spot on the southern front and...

"Jean, I don't pay attention to the news. My dad reads the paper, but the rest of us would have other things to worry about, work to be done. I wouldn't be able to tell a war hero from just another guy in uniform. I just got dragged into this mess is all."

These people were just people to him, not fancy titles or radio personalities. Chances are, Baines wasn't a hero, just a decent person, and that's all that mattered. Operation: Break-Whatever was just a title for a place where people were fighting again, as per usual. But anyway, Jean was all for getting some diversions - certainly literary ones and whatnot - so that part was going to work out in the end. And then...he told Isaac something that surprised him for a moment: Lucia was going through other people's mail. Jean himself had found out a few things, including that Britta was writing some sort of song. He didn't think that it was horribly wrong. Maybe just a bit wrong, when you consider what Baines did with Jean there with that poem. Oh, but Isaac got such a smirk on his face as he thought of something he could do. Jean must've noticed because before he left to go talk with the real recruits, he asked him not to mention anything about the poem to Kalisa whoever.

"I would never do that to someone who didn't deserve it, Jean. I was raised better than that. You go have fun now. I've got work to do."

He didn't. He really didn't. But it was going to seem like work, the way he played it off. First off, he needed a pad of paper and a pencil. No problem there. Because there wasn't much to do, a dozen of these had been circulated all over. And now, he just began to write, at length, with a serious look on his face. He looked like he was doing work, like writing an official report. This was a cunning lie. No, he was composing something altogether different, which would certainly perk things up a little, around here. Sometimes, you need to invent your own fun. And so, Isaac was idly moving along, making sure not to hit anyone. He was actually nearby Jean as he was addressing people, but his mind was largely on his own work, since Jean was handling things. However, that's when Luke walked up and, after talking with the new short guy, started asking things. He caught Isaac mid-thought, so he was paying attention now. Almost done, though... Jean was still talking to the others. Alright, let's field this one, then.

"I've never had to call anyone that before. Bit of a mouthful. How 'bout 'Luke'? Works for me, at least."

He decided to handle this in a friendly manner. God only knows they'll need all the friends they can get.

"I'm sorry to report, though, that you are exactly where you're suppose to be. The 15th is hunkered down here and I'm even an NCO, to boot."

He quickly finished up what he was writing, folded it up, shoved it in an envelope, and then offered his hand.

"Isaac Black. That's Jean, right there. I don't know where Daniel is. Anyway, we're the Corporals around here. Anyone above that iis presumably busy doing something or other. Any questions, though, no problem answering. Otherwise, find yourself somewhere to take a load off, get some food, and hope for the best when we get to Amone."

It was about then that he noticed that Britta was walking by and he called her over with the envelope held over his head.

"Swamped already, I see."

"Never enough time in a day. Could you take this over to where they're stashing all the other letters for me? I don't see any other Gunners, so no one to coordinate with yet."

He only saw rifles and such on people's backs as they had come in here, so they wouldn't have to determine new and more efficient ways of covering a group like he had with her. Britta nodded at his request and he handed the letter over to her.

"I'll guard it with my life."

"No need for that. It's just personal mail."

Sort of. So, while Isaac was busy talking with Luke and potentially others, the dark-haired Gunner lady headed towards the mail room and asked for whoever was really authorized to go in it at all times to just deposit this one with the rest. And what was that letter, you might ask? Oh, it was actually a cunning little prank Isaac had just thought up, one that he couldn't resist playing. What's that, you say? You wanna read it? By all means...

My Hider

Dear Mom, Dad, Alex, Emeri,

I won't say that there's much of anything positive to say about this war, but there IS something to say about the people you meet. We're all pretty much a load of raw recruits being flung at the wall, trying to survive intact, and that means we do what we can to stay human. Not just alive, but living, if you follow my meaning. We have to remain ourselves. The fact is that there's someone here in the 15th that I find myself thinking of alot. There's a bunch of nice girls in our group (provided Jean hasn't stolen them all), but this one is a real breath of fresh air. A raw recruit, doing what she can to deal with what she's got, brightening the room with her smile. Wonderful silver-haired girl with a lovely voice, Lucia Farris.

I was really worried about her when we were all meeting each other for the first time. Had a rough start. But she's all heart and soul, a real inner-strength in that girl. And funny, too. You'd like her, dad. She has real personality. I never thought I'd meet someone that I feel so strongly for out on a battlefield, but there it is. We all welcome her, of course, make her feel like she's one of us. I just feel that I want to get to know her better, help her when she's down, and whatever else. She is truly wonderful. The only thing is that she has developed a habit of going through people's personal mail, seeing their inner-most thoughts. Lucia, could you stop doing that, please? It isn't very nice.

Love,
Isaac

PS: You can keep this one if you want.

[Daxam]

---

---

The moment he saw Jean lose his smile, Zac kicked himself inwardly. Everyone here had just gone through hell and he's cracking a joke? Open mouth, insert foot, he thought to himself. He listened to his NCO as he talked about how recently he had been promoted and about how everyone had already been through so much, the latter Zac already had guessed from the haunted looks in most of the veteran's eyes. "I'm sorry, Jean. I didn't mean to make light o' the situation. I just tend to make bad jokes when I'm nervous," Zac said with a quiet chuckle. "But, I promise, I have no illusions about this war. I know I'm probably gonna have to do things I'd rather not do. Hell, I probably wouldn't even be here if not for my brother."

He slipped his arm back through the strap of his rifle as his mind briefly wandered to thoughts of his brother and the stubborn, almost childish belief he had to be alive that led Zac to enlisting. In hindsight, it was the stupidest decision of his life. It would have been one thing if he had evidence that his brother wasn't dead, but to act so impulsively on a belief, knowing he more than likely wouldn't find Colin? Having always acted before thinking, even he knew this took the cake.

He shook his head, then met Jean's eyes. "But, I'm here, now, so I'm gonna do my job." He adjusted his rifle on his shoulder and continued, "And that means keeping an eye on you lot. I'll watch your backs so you can all do your jobs without worry. I know I won't be able to protect everyone, but I'll do my damnedest to try."

[Bushman501]

August 25, 1914

---

Well...I can't say I expected this. Reyna thought after she was dragged into Jean's room. After letting go of his hand and thinking nothing of it, she listened to what Jean said. Listening to that, she found out just what kind of person Jean was. He was not one of those Darcsens that sulked in depression like many she has seen before, but instead someone that wanted to do the best they could do. Sure, he was depressed now but the fact remained that this was not necessarily Jean's normal state of affairs, rather his way of coping with the horrors of war.

And he's just given me his pendant, which was his sister's. Reyna didn't think she deserved such a thing, but took it regardless with the intention of giving it back sometime. Right now, however, was not the right time. Oh geez, what do I say? Reyna thought on his words. It seemed he thought that being a leader, he had to sacrifice himself. It was true: she didn't see combat yet. However, she already felt some of the after-effects of a battle, if not the full brunt of having to go through the no-man's land. With a smile, Reyna told Jean "It's alright, Jean. However, I want you to do one thing: for yourself to survive. It is good you're willing to die for us, but know it's the other way around. Besides....I was raised believing that a leader should always make sure they and others succeed. Not that I would know too much about the subject." Reyna smile turned into a nervous one. She wasn't used to these kinds of situations. "I'm going to go. Be safe Jean and..thank you for trusting me with this." Reyna turned and left, putting Jean's pendant in her journal pouch. There was a lot to think about as she retired to her bunk and took out her journal, beginning to write in it.

---

Reyna's Journal

August 25, 1914.

So much happened this day, yet I was so lucky. We took that darn hill, but at what cost? Everyone else when they came back..the looks on their faces...it was not a pretty sight. Yet I saw many did not return. Thank goodness that at least some of them came back. I was worried that everyone was dead after I was pulled off to artillery duty. The mud on me didn't help much. Uck! Of all of my time in Dad's workshop I didn't think I would miss the good hygiene I enjoyed at home. On a lighter note, Isaac, Jean, Diana, and the others are all interesting people. A Kalisa was mentioned too, but it sounded like she's hurt. I hope she is ok.

Jean, first of all, seemed like he lost it. I had to help comfort him and more, he gave me his pendant. I intend to give it back to him someday, but I don't know when I will. Either way, helping him felt good and I am glad I was able to comfort him somehow. Thanks to the others' help of course! I wouldn't have been able to do it on my own. Though, now that I think about it he's rather cute for a darcsen.

Isaac? He's interesting. If he didn't take charge of everything going on I don't know what would have happened. Plus, he helped with calming Jean down. He seemed more used to the labors of the bottom, something I am not. He gives me a "tough guy" kind of vibe, which has it's own charms.

Diana? She's really nice, and cute too! She was also there helping me, although I think her and Jean have some kind of relationship with each other. She called him "sweetie" and I do not know what to think about that. She's either weird (and probably is regardless, I get that vibe) or they are dating. Oh well, it's not my place to judge the less fortunate. After all, I'm weird too. They're all probably wondering why a Vinlander is here after all.

Finally, there is Lt. Middleton. He is...I don't know. He's commanding, but already I am hearing subtle resentment toward him. Doesn't seem like everyone likes him. We will see: Dad said sometimes a good leader is not liked. However, I cannot say this resentment is surprising either, with what I know what happened in the battle.

I should go to sleep. It's been a very long day and I know there is more to come. I wonder...what will I have to face? Will I...end up like them too? I guess time is the only thing that will tell.

---

On the train to Amone

Reyna reread the journal she wrote as she sat in a seat on the train. Some of her thoughts changed since then, but not all of them. So many thoughts and memories, written down in that little book she kept and her father's pouch protecting it all. The train was quite busy, but Reyna sat alone. It was not because she was rejected by her fellow soldiers nor was it because she did not like them. She simply did not like crowds. Funny, considering she was showered lavish social events her entire life due to her family's wealth, yet she never desired to be in the center of attention. So she sat alone, merely observing everyone. However, she had to wonder: as a Vinlander, she was the foreigner in the Edinburgh army. It was only a matter of time before she attracted some kind of attention. Whether that was good or bad, she will see. She put the journal in her pouch after doodling a few things in the pages like she usually did and waited.

[Brithwyr]

Gwyn Therwyn

---

Gwyn was going to have to swallow his nervousness, because Thomas was a goddamn magnet for conversation. First Michael, then Diana, then Isaac, all coming over to have a chat and a smile. Shame he didn't bring some bickies. He took a little step back, and introduced himself to the newcomers.

"Name's Gwyn. You need a mine or a wall of sandbags set up, just give me a shout, yeah?"

He accompanied this with a little salute and a big smile. He wanted to make as many friends as possible before he went out into the front. These people had survived the front. The push! They had stared down death and survived! Surely they'd be willing to share some advice with a relative greenhorn like himself?

Gwyn was no stranger to a bit of combat training. He aced the practical exams. But he wasn't a blithering idiot. The field wasn't like the training field, as his father had been eager to remind him every waking hour of the day. You made a mistake in training, you got punished. You made a mistake in a combat scenario, you or someone important to you would die. Gwyn didn't know what it was like to die, but he couldn't imagine it was a very pleasant feeling, so if it was all the same to you, he'd rather stay alive, thank you very much.

“Oi, Gwyn!”

Now that was a voice he recognised anywhere. Last he saw him, he'd been put in the doghouse for insubordination. Honestly, he was surprised he was able to get the the train stop without being in chains - or shot.

"LUKE! Where have you been, ye bastard, ye!" Gwyn cheered heartily. "I thought you would have been scrubbed out by now, boyo!"

[Conscripts]

---

This man appeared to be more like him than he imagined.

"A fellow sapper, yes? Then I imagine a history of cooperation together." Michael replied with a friendly smile. "I'm Michael Daunte, son of 2nd Viscount Daunte. I'm from Tyrelia, Edinburgh."

He didn't really expect anyone to recognize him though. It was a rather fancy looking title that held no power at all in the military ranks. Here, everybody was equal. And it was also a little known branch of the Edinburghian nobility, but his family was still comparatively more well-off than most of society. Sometimes unfairly as well. But this inequality wasn't anything new per say. Every cities, every nations had it. Every generations had it.

Before Diana approached the Tyrelian sapper, he must notice the other recruit in question. He did seem nothing different from the typical freshmen that he knew at the beginning of the war. His voice was high and mighty, as if it could crush a man under its swept. But just like Hill 58, it was going to go down either ways, it falling apart or disintegrating as the man fell along with him. He never hoped for any though. He did want a scenario where he could still keep such spirits yet continue to survive time and time again. But we feasted on each other. Either misery or happiness. One winner is the other's loser. It would never happen.

Nevertheless, the guy was asking for NCOs, to which Isaac had replied pretty much everything. Michael only had little to add. "There's Staff Sergeant Baker over there in that cabin. And of course Captain Middleton in the other cabin, our real 'sweetheart'."

Yeah, sweetheart indeed. To the point where he sweetly handed Lucia the gun to give a friendly tag to the soldiers to keep pushing forward. Or the fact that he mercifully euthanized the Imperials whom he knew wouldn't make it and give them an open-top grave that looked up to the heavens. Yep, we all 'love' him.

"For your question." Then he finally turned over to Diana. She was probably dying to know. How could this man with a very cute and childish face be so maturely voiced? How could this small dude capable of carrying so many material and tools around like that? He was dying to know too. What in the name of science would give him such a small convergence point in terms of height, and such a perfect proportion for facial features. It did make him feel less impacted by the marching of time, but in turns, people like Diana caused him the burden of having to explain it to them.

"I should be in first year of Ridge University, if it wasn't for this war." He replied to the Vastergoth member. "Eighteen in particular. How about you, if you don't mind such a question."
@Brithwyr@Landaus Five-One

[Landaus Five-One]

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Responding to everyone – Train to Amone

---

Diana smiled at Gwyn when he introduced himself and realized that he was a sapper with what he said. She nodded at with what he said, which made her a bit relaxed even though her smile is a bit lessened in forgetting about writing her parents. ”That’s a nice name Gwyn. And I will definitely give you a call. My name is Diana Elana Vastergoth by the way, it is nice to meet you.” Diana said, with a smile on her face. She moved her head when she saw the new guy approach them, in terms of Luke.

She waved at Luke for a greeting, since he did introduce himself to everyone. ”Good to meet you Luke, it’s nice you are a new recruit. Yeah what everyone else said is true you are finally reached your destination of the 15th Atlantic Rifles.” Diana said, with a smile. She moved her eyes to Michael, which answered her question and she was completely baffled. It took her a few minutes to collect herself. However, she’s happy to answer his question, however, since she had a smile on her face.

Diana was thinking on what to say but one thought passed her whole being, which she wanted to say. The entirety of the situation was a bit shocking to hear what she heard from Michael. ”Wait, your that old? But you look like your ten. I’m a single year younger than you. I live in Castleton, Edinburgh. My parents own the New Vastergoth Bakery up there, it’s a wonderful place to go to get some bread.” Diana said, with a bit of shock in her voice. She couldn’t help but be shocked at what she heard. It was a bit shell shocked, which he’s a year older than her and in a university if it wasn’t for this war. However, the only thing that annoyed her was the title of her parent’s bakery, in terms of why was ‘new’ there. It was because of the path of least resistence for her, in terms of her parents.

She was told that she will have to be a baker one of these days in her parent’s bakery called New Vastergoth Bakery. However, she didn’t want to do it since it would require a name change to be a bit less annoying to her. ”I’m pretty annoyed at why the heck was New in the title of the bakery?” Diana thought to herself. She snapped out of her thoughts because she still has no idea why ‘new’ is in the title. However, it was pretty easy to tell the name bothered her of the bakery. It was pretty much the only thing that irked her about the entire thing. ”I’m not in a rush to join a bakery right now mother and father. I know you have a plan for me but I chose this. Even though I suck at it. At least I was told how to properly clean my rifle.” Diana thought to herself with a smile on her face. She remembered what she had to do but didn’t really want to do it now since she would have complained to her parents about why the heck is ‘New’ in the name of their bakery.

_{@Conscripts@Brithwyr@Jacky}

[Jeep Wrangler]

---

_{The Siege of Amone, September 9th - Arrival and Spectating}

---

A bleakness was in the air. All around the train was a dreary slither of mud and grass torn from its foundation. Steam and condescending hisses of pressurised gas exhausted from beneath the wheels and mechanisms below, once more creating an obscured vision of the destination outside their carriage. There was a time where the soldiers of the 15th Atlantic Rifles considered the train to be discomforting and unappealing, but in comparison to what they were going to walk into from here onward no one wanted to leave the luxury behind. Many were told to grab their gear as the more seasoned officers walked up and down, making sure everyone were to stand on their own two feet and prepare for immediate, yet orderly, departure from the cabins they had been living within. Those who were either too tired or hadn't yet awoken to the view of their location were forced onto their feet by the officers, lifting them by the shoulders, holding them in place and almost tossing their own helmets onto their scalps, patting them several times to ensure that they were attentive and prepared. Of course, a vast majority of the new replacements were eager, happy to be where they were and had a lust for getting out there and proving what a wonderful adventure they were about to commit towards, however those who truly knew the sights of the war were unpleasantly unimpressed with what was to come. Stains of their past visions were quite clear on the faces. Some of those new to the frontline were confused by the bleak tone of the rest of their comrades, the ones who had actually seen how little of an adventure there was to experience. Many-a-man would whisper beneath their coarse and bruised breaths that the only adventure that could be considered was the wishful prayers to stay alive one more miserable day.

These men and women truly had been blistered, hadn't they? Their faiths and vowed affiliations towards their people, their country and themselves had been scattered into pieces, awaiting their own conspired deaths to succumb throughout the time purgatory had barely bought for them. Those who weren't even religious stood forward and prayed beneath their breaths sometimes just to hold onto that fractured hope dearly. May the will of the Federation just be in Victory and Survival. Many would utter this phrase true in and out as those lost on the frontline managed to haunt them once more. This was the new world. This was the true meaning of human horror.

Jean stared effortlessly outside the windows. As a Corporal, that singular step above the Lance position forced him to partake in the duty of wandering up and down the cabins to ensure everyone was preparing to disembark their mode of transport for the approaching battle at hand. There was to be little time for all of them to fixate on what there was. Captain Middleton had announced the day before that they'd have roughly an hour to gear up before they'd begin the very short march up to the frontline, where they would watch and wait for the first wave to conclude its strike, opening a large breach in the outer defences for Amone's interception and the influx of newfound troops. In reality, Jean feared this the most. There was a chance that these fateful men and women were to be locked into Amone, never to come out once more. Some of those who wandered around always told of growing up or visiting Amone many times. It was a grand location for religious monoliths to gather and appraise one another in ceremonial prosperity. Lucia even told of tales from her youngest childhood, having visited the great Amone Cathedral, also known as the Cathedral of Light and Spirit, which supposedly stood at its peak spire-height of 210ft. It was quite wondrous to think that like-minded individuals set aside their differences to accommodate one another in a hostile-free environment. However, war had obviously changed that. Civilians were still within those city walls and so were soldiers who'd been caught in the urban siege since its first rendition.

Amone was quite a controversial battlefield for some. The Federation first fought there in 1912EC, January, when the Federation were finally driven out of Assen. As the grand city had perched itself on the border of Assen and the mid-Federation homelands, such as East Francia, it was quite clear that the final Asseni resistance would be located within the city itself. Imperial forces struck the city quickly with the first ever deployment of shocktroopers known to such a scale. Sappers completely enhanced the offensive and defensive capabilities of the city tenfold with a unique tunnel system to shelter those from artillery bombardments. Some were even used to flank and bypass the frontlines of the Federation soldiers within the city, eventually resulting in the crippling defeat of the Federation once more. It was, however, when Assen was fully taken that the stalemate took its ultimate effect. The quickfire of its rapid blood-letting ensured that the Federation focused entirely on a defensive doctrine until they could secure a foothold to assault from. It worked from there, but the first Siege of Amone lasted but several days. Now, this Siege had been going on for around two months, even before the 15th Atlantic Rifles were reassigned. With the Federation focusing on an offensive stance to the war, Jean finally understood that this was most likely the attempt of breaking the siege. Even now, that thought scared him again. What if the entire Federation's chances of winning or concluding the war was resting on the backs of this singular regiment? How could anyone prepare for such a mantle of responsibility?

Eventually, the train finally came to a stop and the final hiss of steam sprayed from beneath the tracks. Once it had cleared, the sights of Amone's forward operating base was revealed slightly more clearly. Tents were everywhere and the odd buildings, mainly consistent of makeshift materials, had been constructed throughout the months to protect the important equipment necessary to executing the upcoming assault. Word had it that there were already hundreds of Federation troops currently scattered all over Amone, as there had been for a while, as well as the inner streets being divided up into territory grab's of pockets. This forward operating base was most likely where they had been sent to die from.

The slow gravitational shift given by the train's complete halt caused a few of the more tired soldiers to stagger in the hallways, but any who fell over were once again swooped up by the shoulders from another NCO, likely a sergeant or above. There was a strong misery around the area from those who'd experienced the war before, and thus the unloading of the train began. Jean could hear the call transposing itself through each carriage, one by one, as the booming voice of another senior NCO kept everyone on their toes just that little while longer. Those who were to forget their gear would never see them again, of course, unless they'd taken them now. Jean had made sure he'd taken everything of value, including double checking Reyna and Kalisa had too managed to begin their exit collectively.

"9th Platoon, begin disembarkation!" Jean was amongst the first from the Platoon's carriage to take the first steps off of the train's carriages. There was a sense of relief and fear both digging into his spine when he felt that rush of cold fresh air once more. September was somehow even more murky and miserable than the August had brought with its heavy showers. Jean, however, was slightly relieved that his scruffy and dirty uniform had not been soaked by the potential precipitation and downpour they could've had that morning. The sun had barely woken up from its own slumber, let alone half of the platoon, though it couldn't even be seen with the amount of dense clouds hanging above their miserable heads. Jean took his surroundings in clearly, knowing that it was only a small matter of an hour before they'd be leaving the place for Amone. Mud stains and murky patterns littered half of the tents with strange splatters of earth across them. For once, it was a relief to see the place in a far more mobile state than the trenches all across this Europan front. Jean could always tell that it was a relief to be without the confinement of corrugated iron sheet walls. This was one of those moments, one that he slightly cherished before they were to be sent into the possible confines of a city. Once more, a barking order came out of the thin air, preparing them for their next set of instructions from the Captain. "Platoon, platoon-shun!"

"As you were, ladies and gentlemen." With a thick cigar in his mouth and a large black trench coat swung around his entire body, Middleton let out a thin cough of his own discomfort before talking down to his subordinates within his personal platoon. "Welcome to the outskirts of Amone. Things are going to be a lot different around here, as the change of scenery might test even our greatest of veterans, myself included. I understand that communication is going to be key in these environments so I will make things absolutely clear here. You will be split into Squads, not as a platoon, or company or regiment. As many of us will be fulfilling many of the tasks out there alone, I have orders from high command to put most of my soldiers along with those they trust, or at least know something of. If you don't, looking at the new apes someone decided to give to us, well tough shit, learn to. Many of you will not have access to me or other commanders on a regular basis, so you need to all prepare yourself for the mindset of depending on one another, as much as I would love to push all of your arse's into position. Corporal Robin-Charpentier; you will be leading Squad 1 and you've been briefed on who is joining your squad, as I am sure you are aware. Equally Sergeant..."

Jean thought for a moment to himself whilst the Captain began to announce each and every Squad leader. Squad 1, huh? Jean was threatened the previous night by Middleton about fucking up the procedures. It was as if he'd been spied on and that everyone he knew were amongst the group destined to join under his command. Daniel and Isaac were to act as his second-in-commands whilst the bulk of the force were to be made up of Kalisa, Diana, Michael, Gwyn, Zacary, Reyna, Franz, Britta, Lucia, Luke and Freya. There were a few other names he didn't recognise amongst the pile, however he had little to no understanding if they were reserves or not. Interesting enough was how Freya was placed in under his command whilst Thomas was assigned elsewhere. Jean hadn't the confidence to yet go up to and speak to the legend, but hearing his voice and conversations were almost like confirmation to the rumours. He truly was as honourable and caring as they made him out to be, unlike their Captain.

"For now, you have a single hour, no more and no less, to grab all of your gear. Before you grab the guns and ammunition, of course, I want you all to report to the Stores Tent. The Federation Army is being issued a brand new uniform to replace these groggy and uncomfortable ones, so please get changed into them as soon as you can. Now piss off and hurry the fuck up, we're short on time and patience. Amone is our goal for today." And with that, Middleton simply moved onto the next Platoon without much of a care in his entire body. Jean watched him leave with a sigh of his own, before ushering everyone in the right direction. Equally, they all began to head for their new tent to exchange the old uniforms with the new...

And so time passed...

Ironically, there was never the thought that a light could be brought into this miserable day. Jean however was easily disproved when he saw the outcome of his own uniform in the mirror of his private changing cubicle. He turned himself from side to side, occasionally watching each angle of his newfound attire. Jean had to admit to himself...he looked good. And by 'good', Jean meant good. The blue was entirely up to his fashion. Underneath the overlay of green and a strange pattern some considered to be camouflage sat a deep shade of blue that was intended to blend well in the urban environments, as well as assist in identifying the core difference between the upgraded and newly developed Imperial uniforms. Equally, their helmet were the same, but the webbing was more adaptable, their clothing felt slightly more flexible and there was less itch and discomfort to it. Jean really did feel like someone walking on broadway when he stared in that mirror, almost chuckling to himself at how ridiculous he was at checking himself out during a crisis like this. At least he was trying to have his own small fun on his own.

Eventually he emerged from the tent, and to his surprise once everyone else had gathered outside he felt a familiar nerve strike him harshly. It was just like when he was in the trench of Hill 58, at the top, where he first properly took a glimpse at some of his comrades. Michael was definitely less...short...probably, from what his uniform at least made him look. Obviously though, Michael was still as small as a pinhead in comparison to the likes of Jean, which he did still smirk to himself at. He didn't mean no harm for the more privileged lad, but at least he was friendly enough to potentially let such remarks slide with the simple retort of his own larger stature. At least a dynamic like that could exist between such comrades, and that in itself made Jean very eased in his mind. Equally, he also saw Kalisa and Reyna. There was no need to explain or deepen the feelings that bounced around his chest that moment, so he kept himself quiet and slowly looked away with an almost brightly red flourish of cheeks, hoping the duo hadn't seen him react in such an embarrassing way. Instead, he simply focused on grabbing his rifle, equipment and supplies necessary for the upcoming assault on the city. Jean's heart paced itself once more, both over the slight thought of the two previous females, but mostly because of the overwhelming nervousness of the battle ahead.

Quickly, once the time had reached its final five minutes before departure, Jean made sure everyone gathered around as he drew a basic map laying out Amone from afar. There weren't enough details on the map showing what the landmarks and infrastructure they would encounter within Amone was to be like, however Jean was unable to make any true measurements or adjustments himself until he'd been in the city. Thus, he spoke surely to those around him, finally using that newfound authority everyone was dependent on.

"Right...Squad 1. That's us...Pardon the hesitation, but I might as well dive straight into this. Within five minutes we're going to begin the march into the nearby clearance zone, awaiting for a Cavalry charge spearheaded by the 7th Cavaliers to break through the soft outer defences. Once they are clear, we are to move at a steady pace, not too slow though, into the city from the breach point and instantly split from the rest of the regiment, as every squad shall. Specifically, as we have the most sappers, we're going to be tasked with making our way to the South-side of the City Centre, where suspicions of the Imperial supply tunnel network are said to begin. It is our job to bring satchel charges into their proximity and to detonate them. Sappers should know how to do that, but in the event of us losing our sappers we are to carry out with the mission regardless of numbers. Not my orders, unfortunately, but Middleton's of course. I have to warn you all though..." Jean, for a moment, took off his helmet and placed it by his side, ensuring that he could meet the eyes of every single soldier around him. There was a sense of reputable understanding within each glance he had to give out to those following his commands, and thus he tried to uphold that confident leadership tone that everyone needed to get out of him. It would be stressful for anyone, including those like Daniel, to watch him break down easily on his first assignment. "Save for our, well...our new guys, this is going to be unlike Hill 58 or anything we've faced before. There are no trenches. We are going to be alone for most of it. We will be fighting in houses, streets and rooms, trying to make the best of the situation. According to the intelligence, which is something we really fucking lack, if you don't mind me saying, the city is currently split into many different pockets of territory. There are areas some consider neutral whilst there are small streets and large buildings under the occupation of either Federation or Imperial troops. However, we've got to exercise extreme caution whilst we are in Amone. Word has it that there are still a lot of civilians residing within Amone, those who refuse to leave the city. Small pockets of these areas are neither controlled by Federation nor Imperial troops. Keep your trigger discipline at its highest and only shoot when we are in a necessary firefight. There's no need for unnecessary encounters either. Do we all understand what we have been given? Crystal clear?"

Eventually, the call came from the higher ups to get moving, and thus Jean patted everyone one of his comrades on the back with a half-nervous smile shining upon them. There was a slight hesitation to how he patted Diana, as he didn't want to trigger one of her strangely obsessive outbursts upon him. Lucia, despite having been somewhat sad herself, gave her brightest smile once more to everyone again. Finally, when he got to Reyna and Kalisa, he hesitated to pat them, but instead spoke to the duo with a slight nervousness to his voice. The three were at the back of the group as they started to move over to the department area at the West side of the camp.

"H-Hey, you two...I just wanted to let you know that despite what happened at Garnia, you can...you can count on me to keep you alive. Well...Kalisa, you're already a badass yourself!" He hesitated, realising how openly he admitted and returned the statement of courage she had first shown him during the charge up Hill 58. "W-Wait...uh...you're a sweet wo...no wait, that's not better...uhh...Reyna! Yes, Reyna, you can count on both of us though. I know this will be your first taste of true combat, but if you just latch onto those in our squad I'll...we'll keep you safe. Yeah...Also, I can't have you two dying. You've got my scarf, which I must say suits you, Kalisa and you, Reyna, still have my sister's pendant. Don't lose them please!"

His nerves got the better of him as he jokingly rubbed the back of his head, placing his helmet back onto his scalp once more and collecting is rifle. The webbing, full of ammunition, notes, rations, dressings and more were all tucked away either within his soldier's rucksack or chest rig. There was even a strange...mask? No one really knew what it was, but whenever Jean asked an officer, he simply wrote it off as an essential for confidential reasoning. Either way, they were all now heading towards the Western part of the camp. As soon as they had all arrived, the Captain gave the order to march forward, as it was not that far of a distance. The clouds above them once more took a grey turn, watching them with haunting glares as they began to traverse towards the Clearance Area, where they would have a clear view of the Cavalier's and their push.

---

_{The Siege of Amone, September 9th - The Push of the Cavaliers}

---

The world clearly wasn't made for such faces. Awaiting in the desolate winds of outer Amone was definitely amongst her worst, and yet chillingly empty, experiences to go through in life as she knew it. But yet despite knowing this in the bottom of her heart, there was a strange happiness to feel with such an expedition. She'd come a long way, her and Henry. Such a stallion, he was, to carry her through thick and thin. They'd gone through training together after growing up on such a crowded farm together. If they hadn't requested her healthy horse she wouldn't have enlisted, yet here she was following and guiding her beautiful maned beast with majesty and compassion. Her and the rest of the 7th Cavaliers were all like that with their mounts, all happy to be paired with such vastly beautiful creatures. Every day and every night they would spend time with their companion for life and feed them, groom them, adjust new horseshoes and ensure they were in peak physical and emotional health. To them, they were not animals but family and friends. Everyone was tightly bound together by their love of such creatures and the lovely affection the horses gave back to them. Gwendolyn was one of those who'd ridden such beasts like Henry for years, now having her skills and partnership tested. There wasn't a single regiment, not a platoon or even a soldier alike Henry who'd give her the honour and hope of making it through a bloody campaign. It was her first charge, as it was with most of the soldiers in the regiment. Either way, she was hopeful only that her friend and everyone else could show the speed and honour of the cavalrymen equally.

Demographics were clear that the nerves of both man and horse were conjoined into one tightly kept ribbon, wrapping itself around several times before loosening itself to a more relaxed silence. Everyone wore their brightly dazzling uniforms and held their sheathed sabres with pride. It was all very ceremonial, the stuff that dressage usually presented. It reminded her of those dressage shows her mother would always show her when she was younger. How she dreamed of growing up to join such beautiful decorations of horse-based showmanship, not putting any physical stress or pressure on Henry to simply please the audience. It was never about fame nor that honour from doing so, but rather the fact she could live out the rest of Henry's life peacefully, staying by his side until he died of old age and was laid to rest in the back of her stables in a peaceful grave, a monument to be put up for him. However, she still felt nervous sitting atop of the horse, waiting in the cold. However, whilst everyone looked around, not knowing what to say, Gwen looked outwards. Her Private insignia shimmered and glowed brightly in the morning dew as she began to quietly sing...

"Oh holy, God and gracefulness,
May we carry on.
Unto the breach and heavens,
Our horses gallop strong."

Soon enough, everyone around her started to join in, one by one. They all smiled hopefully at the Private, the small and young Gwen, who wanted to lift the spirits of everyone around her. Some joined in with baritone charm whilst others took up the mantle of a soprano role. All of them held their voices in unison. Private Gwendolyn stroked Henry's thick mane with happiness over the community she had around her and the singing that went ahead. And so, they all sang the rest of the song, all of their voices being heard by all those around them, including the 15th Atlantic Rifles regiment at the nearby clearance area, waiting for their success.

"Shall we march into the distance?
Shall we raise our banners high?
Will we not hold our candles
And whisper into the night?

Take my hand, and hoof, my children.
We are the sons of life.
For the Federation, we will strive
And stand our victory.

For now we are the man,
For now we are the wife.
Of the greatest day and night now
We cavaliers will strike!"

They all cheered in unison together, once more, as the Captain of the Cavaliers took his post forward. 200 horses, all in their ranks and files with their respective riders atop of them. The collection of cavalrymen was seriously a sight to behold for any party who struck a gaze upon them. The blend of formality within their extremely substantial clothing and swords made it clear that these were the soldiers of the old world who were prepared to do what they must for the future of the Federation. Most of them knew nothing of the combat of the world and so they listening brightly as their Captain turned around, watching them rearwards with a large shout. In his backdrop was the tall towers still somehow standing within Amone, clearly showing their target on the outer-rim of the territory in Amone.

"Cavaliers, this is the day we were born for! No more will these Imperial bastards laugh at the true culture of the horsemen, the stallions of the Federation. We once showed ourselves in the last wars of the world that we were a force to be reckoned with, and so we will prove it once more! We are the heroes of this war, and our mounts are the chariots of fire and light! May we head into this taken city and open the gates for the 15th Atlantic Rifles to help liberate the final days of this siege. For the Federation! For the Glory of Mankind and Beast alike! For the Glory...Of the Cavaliers! ON MY MARK!" Gwen held her breath and patted the mane of Henry once more. She leaned down towards his ears, placing her mouth beside the long lobes and speaking into them with the softest voice she could ever have.

"Let's show these Imperials what its like to meet us, Henry. You and me, boy. We're a team, one that never separates. And once we're back, they have a box of apples for us." Her giddy whispers almost excited the horse, as if it knew every word she muttered. Their almost spiritual and natural connection was unmatched by any other rider in the entirety of Europa. They were a prodigal duo that would never be bested by the rapidity of technology. Horses were to be with her forever and Henry was going to spearhead the brand new world of democracy and peace. This was her chance. This was Henry's chance. She tightly held onto her reigns and listened out for that last fateful order.

"CHARGE!"

In their ranks, line by line, each and every row of horses began to gallop forward. As soon as three rows had begun their strong gallop towards Amone's outskirts, the sound of their hooves kicking into the mud began to shake the very foundations of the earth. Everyone could now hear the sudden rumbling of the ground. Amone was in the pathway of this miraculous voyage. Her heart accelerated. Henry's breaths were in complete tandem with the other stallions around her. Each of their graceful rushes began to exhilarate the blood within her veins. One by one, each and every cavalier began to draw their sabres and hold them in the sky. And just as the supposed defences may have caught a glance at the oncoming storm, each of the Cavaliers let out their war-cry. Even with angelic vocals, Gwen managed to call out in great fury. Nothing but the wind was in her face and the smell of victory. This was i-

A rat-at-at began to suddenly sound. Sounds of whizzes and whistles came soaring past her quickly as the first at the front suddenly found themselves gunned. Bullets began to topple the horses and their riders quickly, dropping them like flies to a bulb of light. Horses kept their cool but Gwen was taken by complete surprise as several of her comrades beside her toppled beneath the weight of their own demise. Blood began to soak in all directions and Henry darted from left to right in order to avoid both the corpses and potential machinegun fire that was posted before them. Her eyes widened and she kept her breath short, ducking her head down behind the neck of Henry for just a moment. They were getting closer, it was not too far now. She clutched onto the hilt of her sabre with extreme panic and anger. What was going on around her? As the two darted again to the left, she caught witness of the Captain, with life slowing down completely, taking a large peppering of lead into his chest. Blood sprouted like a seed within the ground in the spring's sunlight, and his body continued, strapped onto his horse clearly. Seconds later, a straight bullet penetrated the skull of his poor, yet majestic stallion leading the front. And beside where the Captain once was, more riders and their horses collapsed in huge waves. Henry continued to dart: Left. Right. Left more. Keep at it. No stopping. Henry was the behemoth to get her through. Casualties were not as high as she expected, until suddenly she felt herself flung forward, tossed across the sky for a few metres.

As she soared, her hand slipped loose of her sword, watching it float away in another direction as she tumbled into the mud, sliding and bruising herself with many cuts from the coarse stones beneath her. Her ears rang, beating out in strong thumping actions. She scuffed her own throat as she coughed, laying low purely out of the pain she'd been caused after being tossed across the sky. Her head pounded as hard as the machine guns did, until they faded away, stopping for just a second. Slowly, whilst laying in the short grass, Gwen began to lift her head slowly, her body shaking as she did so.

Before her sat two machine guns. Only two. Four Imperials, maybe six if another machine gun was concealed. They seemed to take a breather, not seeing her. Had something gone wrong? Was it...was it over-

Her eyes flashed in exemplified horror when Gwendolyn bared witness to the slaughter behind her. An entire field, filled with the corpses of horses and riders alike, still freshly bleeding. It was like a sea, one that would never stop going until the horizon dipped down beyond her vision, however there was no end to the sight. All the gunners had to do was control the heat of their barrels, aim and fire, and this was the result. Had not a single horse made it within thirty metres of their target, these simple double emplacements of modern tools. Tears welted up in her eyes as she lifted her head slightly more, suddenly seeing the corpse of a familiar friend...Henry was bent over, his front legs had given in and blood poured from his poor and rich skull. It had catapulted her across the sky when he'd been hit, and seeing her only friend suddenly be amongst a sea of dead bodies made her rise up in absolute fear and agony. She screamed, standing up slowly and running backwards, away from the city, towards the fallen comrade: Henry the Stallion. However, just before she could reach the body of her deceased ally, all that the 15th Atlantic Rifles could hear was a final burst of machine gun fire, signalling the end of the 7th Cavaliers...

[Bushman501]

September 9, 1914

---

Well..end of the line. Reyna thought to herself as the train came to a stop. She knew what it meant: they all had to disembark to another battlefield. Although to those that came aboard the train on the way to Amone would have thought of her as some kind of veteran, the reality was she was far from it. Inside, she was still unshaken by the horrors of war, the horrors that she has yet to see. She just hoped that her training kicked in when they did come, for she felt that all would come crashing down at the worst possible moment. Still, her parents and friends believed that she'd be able to get through it, and so she held on to that hope that she would.

Getting off the train and listening to Middleton's speech, who was now a captain, Reyna went over to change into the new uniform. For a second, Reyna reminisced getting into a dress. Although sometimes against her will when she insisted on dressing herself, the hired maids of the family have helped her do this task before. Usually, there was a lot of preparation and adjustments. Now? Reyna was all by herself. The uniform was a little tight on the chest, but other than that it was within acceptable comfortable limits. At least it felt more comfortable than the old uniform.

After getting everything situated, Reyna reported to Jean and the rest of what will be her "squad." She listened to Jean's words and briefing as he started patting everyone on the back...except herself and Kalisa. Instead he spoke words to them. At first, Reyna did not know what to think. Then came the compliment of Kalisa being a badass and some hesitation afterward, as if Jean was trying to pick his words. Sweet..what? At the same time she thought that, her name was said. The gist of the conversation, as far as Reyna saw, was "don't die." Reyna was used to herself being singled out for conversations occasionally: after all many wanted to have conversations with her, some vying for her affection and some not. It depended on what was going on.

"Don't worry Jean. We'll be fine and won't lose anything! Take care of yourself too." Reyna replied with a smile while adjusting her harness. Where was this talk with Diana? Reyna thought for a moment before looking up at Kalisa, noting that as a darcsen Kalisa was a pretty one. Maybe it was because Jean was talking to two pretty girls and was unused to speaking to women? She'll have to ask about that sometime.

"So, you're Kalisa? Nice to meet you and glad to see you're alright. Heard you got hurt." Reyna offered a smile to the woman as she held her hand out to shake and listening to what Kalisa had to say briefly before going to collect her gear. What Reyna questioned when she arrived to collect any new gear they were being issued, however, was a peculiar mask that was assigned to them as she looked at the new equipment straight away. Reyna looked for instructions for usage, as she had the feeling that this mask had some important purpose. Perhaps it is for smoke to help them breathe? Whatever the case she will figure it out. Shrugging and clipping the mask to place where she can put it on fast, she moved with the rest of the squad, consistently checking to make sure everything was in its place and that she did not forget anything, even a trivial item.

At the spot where they had a good view of the Cavaliers, who were about to begin their charge, Reyna looked at the horses. Back home, she was not a horse girl although she did live out in a place where there were some of the majestic creatures. Reyna always appreciated nature for what it was, though she was a nuts and bolts type of girl by heart, hence why she showed a lot of aptitude of being a sapper. Aww, those horses! It's a shame they're also used for war, but they are great companions if my friends are to be believed. However, her prior knowledge of what some of the others, most notably veterans, talked about gave Reyna a bad feeling about this....

Her feelings were soon confirmed as the Cavaliers started to be gunned down quickly by machine-gun fire. The sound....Reyna heard it in the distance at Hill 58 when she was helping with moving up the artillery. It was not a pretty sound as she remembered attempting to count the bullets fired from such a lethal weapon before giving up altogether. Now, she watched in horror as the once-majestic creatures and riders of the Cavaliers got gunned down, wiped to the last. If anyone was alive over there, they weren't going to be for long.

Reyna stood there in no small amount of shock as she processed what just happened. Her eyes widened a small amount before the internal battle of her feelings told her to get a hold of herself. That she was warned she was going to see things like this... But nothing compared to witnessing a massacre like that first-hand. So, Reyna did the one thing she thought of: she looked away, put her right hand where her heart was and took deep breaths as she recovered herself and her senses, calming herself. It's ok Reyna. You...you won't end up like that. Calm down...You will make it. Oh God... She bit her lip, looking at how everyone else fared watching the scene.

@LetMeDoStuff @SMS

[Conscripts]

---

"I get it all the time. After years with this, I've grown dull to it. In fact, I don't even blame anyone for the mistake."

It was relatively often for people to assume the common and be confused with the rare entities. It was human nature. He had lived with it for years, with many people who didn't think he would be a near grown-adult already patting his head and messing with his hair. Most were older people, his parent's guests and relatives. Some others were guys younger than him, and like a knife that had sliced through a handful of vegetables and meats, they had the same exact response. But there were some particular individuals whom he didn't really mind: some of the ladies. Usually met as guests and at parties, these girls had no idea. He did find it occasionally annoying, but other times he knew how to take advantage of such naivety.

'New Vastergoth Bakery huh?' As it was told by Diana. He hadn't been to Castleton before. Maybe he could come there one day, once the war is over. But it was rumored to be a town known to have great bakeries and spectacular ancient monuments. Perhaps he could catch heed of the Vastergoth name there. But for now, he had to make sure he made it back to his mother and father in one piece first.

---

Time passed like a bullet when you did not pay heed to it, but like a turtle when you did. Unfortunately for Michael, he chose, or rather was forced to choose, the latter. Card games soon grow dull, his books he had already memorized letters home hadn't arrived yet, perhaps in the next few days it would, and talking to others - well he didn't have much to say to begin with. Even sitting by
himself, enjoying the solitude of his company almost drove him to insanity. The best he could do at that moment was doodling on his spare paper, trying to draw something or someone. As an engineering student, drawing items would be his forte, but he could also draw more complex things satisfactorily, including people. Maybe at the end of this, he may be eligible for art as well.

Nevertheless, regardless of the perceptions of time, it still marched on like a stallion in a race. They eventually arrived at their destination as the train breathed its steam for one last time. Immediately, he was ushered to gather his equipment and gather up again just like he left Garnia. Before him was a sight completely different from what he had grown complacent to for ages, what he had been taught so vigorously for. This is a new world. A future that he would unknowingly having the chance to experience.

---

The Siege of Amone - The Final Breakthrough

---

Michael made sure he did not forget anything on the train before he disembarked and was hurdled into formation, where he was briefed of the upcoming fight he would have to go through. It was a rather change of pace, a pretty welcomed one in fact, to be seeing tents on solid ground instead of endless miles of trenches. It was more...home-like to him. For someone who had been living in the urban environment for all his life. But the fact wouldn't change is that he would be running around shooting people instead of saying hello to them. It was said to even challenge even our 'beloved' captain himself. Then apparently he was now equal to everyone. Well, hopefully equally dead as everybody else.

The order was clear. Amone was to be theirs by the end of the day or they'd be dead. But thankfully enough, he would be fighting in a new suit instead of this mud-drenched uniform. Would that be considered an equal trade? Maybe. Considering he was fighting with the likes of Jean, Isaac, Diana, Franz, Britta and Lucia, it was a good pro for him. At least he would be working with people he knew. However, there are strange faces in the ranks, some of them he had gotten to know on the train, some he was completely unaware. The possibility was there that he would have to work with them. He prayed that if he had to, the process would go smoothly enough.

After Middleton finished his speech, everyone, including the Tyrelian sapper, headed inside for the change of uniform.

---

The feeling of fresh clothes felt good indeed. He absolute did not have to worry about the wet sleeves or pants that leaked inside. It was annoying to do anything with that. Despite knowing that in just hours away, he'd either be drenched in it again, or the rain would piss on him just like the other day, he'd enjoy it as long as he could. It certainly looked nice, a little loose though, considering there weren't many designed for the likes of him. But this was nothing. He could still fight properly in this.

Michael was among the first to exit, as he witnessed the rest of the squad in their new attire. He did pay particular attention to his fellow Darcsen NCO, as he seemed to mock the fact that even the hat did not make him look any taller than he was. The smirk was returned by his own as he sarcastically shook his head to him. A man's scale was determined by his destiny not by nature's proportion monsieur.

Aside from that snarky remark from his own superior, everybody looked pretty upright to him, more human and civilized comparing to the time at Hill 58. Some were rather...interesting, coming from the other ranks like Britta or Reyna. They did understand the same problem as Michael did. But they looked good nonetheless. But for the lesser party though, one that could fit in very well...

His eyebrows jumped at the sight of it, but his eyes immediately walked away. It was extravagant. It was a beautiful match for the smile she was wearing on her face. The deep blue contrasted to her long illuminating silver strands, as it hugged neatly onto her, exemplifying the look he would ideally imagine.

"Don't look. Don't look..."

He turned away. His heart was pounding harshly. Come on. He couldn't afford to be nervous here. He had to remain calm-headed for now. He would look distraught in front of everybody else. He would also probably risk injuring or dying out there if he let that one opportunity go.

His eyes closed. His mind began to count. One. Two. One. Two. Alright, just don't pay attention to her. You had many other things to worry about.

Five minutes before departure, the squad was gathered around by Jean as he gave one final briefing of what to do and where each person would be in this city. Apparently, the sappers would have quite a huge task ahead of them today. They were the tunnel clearer. Carrying the satchel and destroying the Imperial supply tunnel. And the reason this was so important was because an army marched on its stomach, and fought with their metals. Remove both, then they would be useless. While this wasn't a killing blow, as Jean specifically mentioned that they were to continue combating with or without the sappers accomplishing the objective, but knowing that any capable commander would not leave their supplies undefended, Michael could expect a tough fight.

Just as before their departure, Michael and the rest of the squad had the opportunity to watch the charge of the 7th Cavaliers. And at a pretty good spot at that. Damn, practicality aside, they did look dazzling with their uniform and sabres. It was indeed the typical imagination of a knight in shining armor. Well probably not so shining. Usually they would be in heavy metallic armor instead. But he had read history books about warfare though. They were indeed extremely useful creatures back a century ago. Their mighty stallion could break an army completely like a stone hammer to a mirror. But as technology advanced on, the use of firearms had become a lot more common, and new guns were developed in turn, more accurate, more rapid and more deadly. The frontal charge became less useful, infantry and cavalry. In fact the last cavalry charge to affect the outcome of the battle was during the Imperial Alliance's Unification Civil War, and half of the riders wouldn't make it back.

He watched as the riders shook the heaven with their battle cries. And he watched as the product of industrialization solemnly rolled them over mercilessly, regardless of how hard they screamed, how ferocious their steeds were, or how bright their blades shone. One after another, they were cut down like wildfire. Soon, the final blaze of gunfire cried with the tears of the surviving horsemen, as they quickly fell into a deafening silence. And the world had moved on.

Witnessed as these majestic and royal creatures met their doom, Michael slowly turned around, shut his eyes tight before making a quick cross on his body. May their souls rest in peace.

"Sappers! Anyone. If you don't mind one minute."

He quickly tried to distract any disturbed viewers of the massacre, and himself as well, as he also tried to know their faces before the big battle. Since probably for most of the fight he would be spending with them in an almost isolated area, Michael thought that getting to know these fellows and formulate some sort of mutual understanding would make them fare better. And better here would mean living through this siege.

[Jacky]

Luke Godfrey

With a heavy yawn Luke awoke to hear several voices from outside his cabin, some in a rush and others with stern authority in their tones. It took him a few seconds, but as the voices grew louder and closer he realized what was going on before scrambling out of his bunk. “Damn it I thought this was over with when we got out of basic!” he hissed under his breath as he hurried to get dressed and gather his gear. He felt both excitement and annoyance as he pulled his clothes on, it was obvious they were about to reach their destination and finally get off of this damn train, but with this sudden awakening to get prepared for departure he couldn’t help but have flashbacks to boot camp when the drill sergeants would almost drag them out of their bunks to start their day of training. After a few muffled curses from his cabin and a loud smack against the wall, Luke emerged from his room with his helmet a bit crooked to the right.

With his day already getting off to a rather lousy start, Luke decided to spend the rest of his time on the train looking over his gear, it honestly seemed better than spending it dwelling on the future battle or praying with the others he had noticed upon waking up. It all seemed to be a waste of time, but he obviously kept it to himself and focused on his own concerns. He gave a quick look over of his rifle, sharpened his bayonet, checked his tools and equipment, hell even snuck in enough time to clean a few buttons on his uniform before the train had finally reached its destination.

Luke felt a small smirk come to his face as the train came to a hissing stop before falling in line as the orders from his superiors echoed through the air. As his platoon began to disembark from the train he couldn’t help but noticed the tired expressions on his comrades. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he could do with a bit more sleep himself. After hopping down along with his unit he fell in line and stood at attention as the Captain named Middleton, someone who was apparently a bit of an ass from what he overheard from a few people, began to give their briefing. As he listened to the Captain deliver his orders, inform them of the splitting of the platoon into squads and finally the announcement of new uniforms, Luke could feel the excitement well up with his chest.

Soon the commander finished his briefing and dismissed them all to go and change into their new uniforms. Luke was a bit saddened to get rid of his original uniform as he had spent so much time making sure it was in pristine condition, but he had to admit the new uniform was rather nice looking. As he emerged from the tent with a smirk he looked himself over and to his squad. “Gotta admit, doesn’t look to bad,” he chuckled before glancing around to his team. They all looked equally as good as him, especially the few ladies within his squad. He would really need to get to know his teammates though, he had mostly spent his time with Gwyn and the other recruits on the train ride here.

After silently making it his goal to become more acquainted with his team the Corporal Jean called the squad together and began his own briefing. He drew up a quick map of the city and gave details of how they would be proceeding into city after the calvary made their charge against the Imperials. He went into even further details of how they would be using their sappers, the fighting within close quarters and even the civilians that were still within the city. With all of these orders and planning Luke could feel even more excitement in the coming battle, but there was no hiding the small ball of nervousness that formed in his stomach. He tightened his grip along his rifle and took a deep breath through his nostrils, this was it. It was time to put his training to the test! Once they had received the order to move out from Jean he did a quick check on his gear, even the rather odd mask he had been given before falling in line.

The march felt like it would last an eternity, but thankfully they all soon arrived at their destination and were in the perfect spot to get a full view of the calvary force that would be taking the Imperial lines head on. The sight was a bit of a spectacular one as Luke's eyes scanned across the massive wave of horses and soldiers, all ready to work together in breaking through the line. Soon the time had finally come and the 7th Cavaliers began their charge onto the enemies lines. The thunder of their cry for victory and the mighty rumbling of their charging steeds was truly an amazing sight that Luke would forever remember. Just as he would forever remember the carnage that would shortly follow.

The distant sharp cracks of automatic gunfire, the howls and shrieks of both men and horse in despair until finally… nothing. Luke stared in shock and confusion, not able to comprehend what had just happen until finally it all sunk in as a distant scream was silenced by a final burst of gunfire, ending it all just like that. With silent awe and terror he scanned the now corpse riddled field, not a sign of life left, only the mixture of blood, mud and flesh. Swallowing hard and gripping his chest Luke found it hard to look away as he was unable to hold back a new feeling from the excitement and nervousness slip into his heart. Fear.

“S-shit,” was all he was able to mutter aloud with a shaking voice while forcing a small smile, though it was clearly forced as it nearly faltered from his shaking. Thankfully his eyes were finally peeled away as a familiar voice called out for attention. He quickly snapped away from the horrible sight and turned around to look anywhere else but there. Finally he had noticed his hand still clutching at his chest and released his new uniform with a small gasp, not realizing until now that he had been holding his breath. Shaking his head and closing his eyes Luke took a few deep breath through his nose to calm his nerves, get his head straight and focus.

This was not the time to break down, he’s hasn’t even had his own taste of action yet for god's sake! Feeling a bit frustrated in himself he opened his eyes and shook his head clear of anymore fear before turning back to his squad, ready to get to work whenever the order came in.

[Jeep Wrangler]

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_{The Siege of Amone, September 9th - Reactions}

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Jean felt his heart fall into a full stop, ceasing to move or pump more blood around his body when the sights of the damned were set upon the cavalry. Each of them collapsed so vigorously, both innocent creature and rider alike. A fist tightened on his right side as he struggled to remain relaxed and at ease from the violence that had plagued these Federation lands. Why was it now that the slaughter seemed even more disturbing from afar. It was quite a difficult contemplation over whether or not he felt glad to not be a participant of the Cavalry charge, but Jean was adamant that spectating along the sidelines was something equally as agonising for all parties. Whilst he wasn't either a friend of the Imperials nor Federation, Jean felt inclined to hope that those behind the machine guns felt sympathy and regret towards the mass slaughter. God forbid, if they hadn't batted an eye of remorse towards the hundreds that had just been slaughtered in their butchery he would...he would...

No, this was not a good thing to do. Jean instantly tried to distract himself. The mind was a fragile entity that could be torn into pieces if put under heavy stress. Hill 58 had already proven that Jean was weak-minded, something that everyone was likely to hate him for. He even had worries about whether or not Isaac and his fellow comrades would actually deem him a capable asset. Perhaps Amone would be the perfect place to off Jean so that they could gain a better replacement as a Corporal. After all, with the way Jean had been treated by Middleton too, it wouldn't have been surprising if that was his fate to come. Yet he didn't want to think of such trivial atrocities just yet. Combined with the still image of the horrific slaughtering fields of Amone's outskirts, Jean was in dire peril for a distraction, and the others all around him seemed to be doing the same. Jean thought to himself quickly of the previous conversations he had, and the sweet ones, and he continued to list his mind to hunt out such desirably needed thoughts.

He remembered what Reyna had said to him and how he should take care of himself. It was sweet in itself, as sweet as what Kalisa had also spoken of, and it too conflicted his mind. At least in that situation, he managed to use his attraction towards both fascinating soldiers within his squad as a way to deprive that senseless hatred for the fate of the cavalry, which was something he always wanted to forget. Before they were to trudge along, he looked back at Reyna and Kalisa for a moment, trying to pick apart what exactly there was for him to be appreciative of.

Firstly came Kalisa. Out of the two, Jean clearly was more confident around her when they spoke. It would be wrong to deny that it was the Darcsen bond that all of them held. It even made it easier for him to talk to Franz, who was an Imperial an would, in a normal world, be difficult to talk to. However, it was that Darcsen bridge that had helped Jean cross towards settling easily with Kalisa's. She was obviously a lot more of a soldier than he was. Sometimes when observing on the train he'd notice the slight use of logic and order to try and navigate the newer recruits into doing the right thing and respecting the right people. Whilst some may have seen it as an aggravating use of force, force in which Kalisa didn't hold in the hierarchy, Jean admired it greatly. Perhaps she could help him with his confidence, striving to place him in situations that would require a strict lack of nerve and fear. She wasn't a drill sergeant, though, which was where the compassion he had grew at its most. She had the ability to be kind, to be sweet and to speak in such manners that made Jean's broken little heart flutter about. Of course, he definitely mentioned that in his poem. Mixed with the new uniform, Jean couldn't help but do exactly what Michael was like around Lucia: helplessly try to resist the urge to admire with a watchful eye. There was still a layer of guilt on Jean's behalf situated around how he hurt her head when protecting her from the artillery which had stuck with him, making him persistent to make amends with her.

Then there was Renya. Now, whilst he was far more confident around Kalisa, physically Jean held a stronger attraction to the beautiful Vinlander volunteer. It was as if wherever she went, the light and godly rays that broke through the bleak clouds followed her every step. Blended with her acute accent and dialect, it was clear that Jean was deeply nervous around how physically perfect she was. Of course, Jean would never admit that for fear of his own respect. A few rumours had it around the train, though he never had confirmation from Reyna herself, that she'd descended from a rich family out in the USV. It made him feel slightly awkward, yet fascinated, around her. Jean clearly wasn't the richest of people, having come from the middle grounds of Liege City. As a Francian native, Jean knew however that Vinlanders and Francia shared a strong history of assisting one another, even in the old days of colonialism. With that, she held the sweetest and friendliest look on life. Jean watched her reaction to the slaughter of the horse's and, honestly, it pulled once more on his heartstrings. He knew that she was yet to directly face an enemy, instead of hearing or spectating it. Amone would change that, especially considering she was a sapper, someone who'd have to go into the depths of the tunnels just to plant a single explosive charge. The worst part is, Jean would have to order her to do it, and would simply have to hope that she would be willing to commit to whatever horrors lurked beneath the city of Amone.

But it was in these transitional thoughts of the two comrades of beauty that he began to realise and remember. Jean was strictly persistent on such romantic pursuits for one main reason: he had lost the only woman he'd ever loved in his life. Olivia, of course. Platonic love, as well, nothing from those Southern Vinlander stereotypes. But she was the only female that had ever bothered to continue to ease Jean's mental pains and thus became a part of his life. When the news of her death finally arrived, that part was carved out with a thick scalpel. Jean had no intentions in the past to fill that space in his heart, but simply coming across both Reyna and Kalisa put him into a conflicting mindset of what was wise and unwise in the war. Would they even care if he tried to commit to something so naturally beautiful or would they see it as an unfaithful practice to the military code? The military itself didn't restrict relationships of the sort but they never explicitly said they encouraged it for fears of couples being torn apart by the tip of a bullet. Some, however, argued that it was no different to a sweetheart waiting at home only for her husband to be shot in a foreign land. Jean missed Olivia, and seeing the horse's amassed in a slaughter made him worry about how Olivia had died. She was the light to his old life. This new one was nothing without her. Jean could feel the pain of remembering her go down in a swirl of painful confusion.

She was his life.

She was his sister.

She was his companion and tutor.

And now she was gone.

Jean was desperate to find someone who would help him feel such a way, and the only positive to him thinking so deeply about the need for his romantic pursuit of both Kalisa or Reyna at least came in the form of distracting him well and truly from the angers of war. Jean knew that within a few moments Middleton would give the order to start moving towards the frontlines. Jean himself took out his binoculars and watched in the distance, seeing that those who'd been defending the outskirts were in few numbers and were actually beginning to retreat away from their positions, possibly from expending such ammunition or lack of manpower. Or perhaps they were luring the Federation into a trap of the sorts, yet Jean knew there was no point arguing against it with a Captain like Middleton running the show. Instead, he turned once more to Reyna, and with a gentle motion he moved Reyna's face away from the direction of the horse's.

"S-Shhh, don't look at them. Come on, tell me about Vinland. What was it like back home? Where abouts did you come from? Personally, I was from Francia, and Liege City. Maybe thinking of home might help you comfort your mind? And if that doesn't work..." Jean smiled sweetly and pointed towards the necklace wrapped around her neck, the one Olivia used to own all the time. With a gentle brush of his hand, he placed her own hand onto the pendant with a somewhat friendly, yet authoritative, order complete with his smile. His last sentence was met with facing the rest of the squad, trying to encourage all of those new and experienced to the leadership, or rather lack of it, Jean provided. "Let her guide you. All of us will look to her when we need that little extra boost. Same goes for all of us. Think of home. Think of something welcoming. We still have a few minutes before we head out. The defenders have abandoned their posts anyway..."

_{@SMS@Bushman501}