Angry Hungarian

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Time to move on to [Day One, Phase Two], I think. Welcome back home, D.

Fate/Moribund Swarm

In exchange of your cooperation I may offer you an apology from my haughty naturalist comrade who evicted you from your rightful abode and a lifetime supply of Flammenwerfers to help with establishing glorious Christendom during this war.

After all, my boss is all for Jesus and stuff!

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Thanks for the notice, pal. Rest easy in the knowledge that the longer you're away the later you have to write the very awkward and no doubt sexually tense confrontation between an SS-affiliate that gets naked in the woods as his hobby and a lewd deity who gets smug at everything.

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Soooo... How are you doing, enemy team fellow Japanese-Sympathizers?

Fate/Moribund Swarm

@Breo

Emmerich Lisztmayer-Anschütz von Sabern,
Master of Rider
Somewhere on the Eastern Fields of Fuyuki
The 27th of August, 1939

---

Ever so silent as he worked, the officer listened and nodded along distractedly, he only looked up once Rider shot him an query."Honestly surprised? Yes, I expected you to be more silent about it.", Emmerich admitted with bluntness as Rider asked - And with that, he returned to meddling with magecraft and technology while Rider sunk into his long-winded reminiscence of his troubled love-life. Again all his responses were simplified into grunts of approval and nodding, but eventually the tall man raised his head. Awkwardly, he watched and listened hunched over and still halfways inside the car's interior. The first-hand accounts of such a legendary story captured his attention and soon the poorly clad officer was leaning against the unmarked vehicle with a cigarette hanging from his lips and his arms crossed. He did not appear particularly drawn in by the tale, but the glint in his blue eyes fixated on where Rider would be spoke of different things. By the end, he only muttered a note of interest. "I... Did not expect you to be so human. For something that I considered an otherworldy being, you are unexpectedly relatable - Which is truly heartening, to be frank." With that, he cracked a smile he soon subdued.

"Nothing will be crashing against us, Rider. On the contrary - It is You who shall do the crashing.", Emmerich explained meticulously. "As I have said, I've foreseen a defeat at the Church. If we lose the sector then it is a loss I've accounted for; It slams the trap on the Jap' shut." The officer scrambled for something in the trunk of the car. It did not take long until he retrieved a squared piece of paper that looked awfully fresh and new in comparison to everything else stored within the vehicle. With a gesture of his index finger and a quick spring to his step, he hailed Rider over as he opened the document on the hood of the car: A map.

"Initially we were meant to spearhead an offensive that would swipe away anything 'till it reaches the academy west of us - It's a simple trick from the old book, my Rittl. One advance team moves ahead to secure and scout out the target location whilst the frontline steadily closes up behind them." The markings of the map, wild scribblings of black and red, were easy to follow despite the many other alternative markings already crossed out beside them. The lanky officer traced his hand over the right side of the paper, severing what would be Shinto in half vertically. "We're always in arm's reach of each other, should an attack occur. We can always expect another team to be able to help us in any situation and all our sides are protected by either our allies or a natural obstacle, assuming that the enemy has no naval capabilities that is. However...", he said as he exasperatedly tapped his gold-bearing ring finger against a crucifix drawn on the document. "The Church has caused me a bit of a head ache. It is neutral grounds, we do not want to be careless by annexing it. So should the enemy show up, which I believe he might already have, and should this enemy foolishly pursue Bauer Herstelle..." He paused. A moment of uncertainty sunk into Emmerich before he continued, reassuring himself. "Yes, if they stay around the church for too long, we may encircle them, separate them and individually eliminate them. We, Rider, are the lid that will close off this encirclement if the chance arises: An ample chance to show off your heroics, if I may suggest.", came his steadfast conclusion as the enthusiasm grew palpable in his speech. "We shall skewer them most mercilessly."

Fate/Moribund Swarm

@Breo

Emmerich Lisztmayer-Anschütz von Sabern,
Master of Rider
Somewhere on the Eastern Fields of Fuyuki
The 27th of August, 1939

---

The officer could not help but cock a brow and glance a lopsided grin at the servant's remark of misery. "Is that what you equate me to, Rider? Misery? ... I must have made a terrible first impression." With a shake of his head, he quickly dismissed the topic and instead choose to return to his mage-ly duties of setting up a bounded field - Which, for some reason, involved no flashy spells yet. Irredeemably, the lanky officer just stuck to the trunk of his car and kept rummaging. A tug here, a pull there, he was awfully absorbed in sorting out the equipment for his task and only looked up from the sturdy vehicle's compartments when his ears caught the servant's wistful mumbling. "Love-struck?", he noted in disbelief. After a moment's pause, the man rose from his work and a tinge painful sincerity rolled off his tongue.

"My Rittl, there are no miracles in this world. A thousand times I wished something could be because I simply wished for it, but you'll find that wishes do not come true by themselves." The officer's striking-blue eyes grew distant, as if sifting away in a sea of memories. An uneasy silence settled onto the discussion, graced by nothing but a longing stare into nothingness. Emmerich's stalwart posture gained a statuesque quality, yet the canny Rider could clearly notice what was the quivering hands of a broken man. Only a second was spared by the tall officer to let his mind wander - At the first sign of a twitch, he grew rigid and his figure strained itself into a peaceful state again. The uneasy episode was over as soon as it started. "Apologies. I got lost in ... Thought.", he admitted."Do not wish for what you desire - That only makes its absence ache more. Choose to act for it instead."

Emmerich took the first chance to change the topic. The awkwardness of the situation began to sting his side and so he gracefully leaned back onto the trunk to explain Rider's summoning in an off-handed manner. "If you want to hear the most honest reason why I choose you over seventeen other servants more suitable for my lacking arcane expertise, it's because We believed that you in particular would be the most beneficial to have in this conflict and prove to be efficient in carrying out your duties as Our ... Sturmabteilung, for a lack of better terms." Then the officer clicked his tongue and glanced up half-ways from the trunk, his eye on Rider with a sly glint. The corner of his lips hid a coy, sublime smile. "However, if ... We ... Didn't know better, I might be pressed to say that your master may be very fascinated with tales of your old, bygone era of heroics." The oddly-worded confession resonated with a sense of rediscovered honesty and kindness, as if the pain from moments ago dissipated in the wake of a budding enthusiasm.

The idle chatter was cut short as Emmerich's glance triggered Rider's eager request of action. "No.", he noted in a tight-lipped manner before snatching his binocular and hopping away from the trunk. Immediately, he was fixated on church-wards. "I just had a bad feeling, but I'm sure of it now: They're being teased by the enemy - But I anticipated this happening." With a stalwart finger, the officer gestured toward the horizon while still keeping the device to his eyes. "You see, Rider, a frontline is a precious thing. You can't clearly see it nor can you define it on a map with one-hundred percent certainty - It's an abstract concept of sorts. This is why any commander worth their salt will spend time testing the boundaries of their enemy's." In a broad sweep of his hand from the coastline, over the city and to the church, Emmerich gestured on. "This is our frontline, Rider - And the Japanese are now trying to find out where it would be the easiest to poke holes into it. It is a test of a man's courage: If you attack the right flank of an army and their general sends reinforcements, it means that's where he is afraid - His right flank, my Rittl. I pray that our allies do not fail us by rushing too quickly to help Bauer. We do not want to let them know where we're the weakest, for a fortification is only as strong as its weakest bastion." There was urgency to the lanky officer's speech, his usual coolness and melancholy giving way to a professional haste. "It is for this purpose that I ordered one of the Edelfelt twins to stay in the eastern city - But if more than one master leaves their post, our frontline presence is broken and that would mean that... We must recalculate our angle of attack." A sigh escaped Emmerich's thin lips as he finally gave up on his attempts to spy any happenings from the other side of Shinto. "For now, we remain here. Our opportunity to strike will arise shortly - Lest our lines shatter and we end up separated from the rest of our folks."

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Emmerich Lisztmayer-Anschütz von Sabern,
Master of Rider
Somewhere on the Eastern Fields of Fuyuki
The 27th of August, 1939

---

The loftily-clad man, at first, did not react to Rider's advances of conversation. Emmerich merely held up a finger to the legendary creature without even bothering to look at him. After a minute of silence, a sharp exhale followed and the melancholic-faced officer gently set the headset back into the trunk of the car. With a flick of a single switch, he noted:"They refuse to send the liaison plane - Too dangerous for now, they say.", he murmured and a tinge of annoyance spawned in his voice long seconds. "I can't work efficiently when blind, I'm going to need those eyes in the sky!" But this wasn't enough to infuriate the officer - Indeed, Emmerich appeared to be a tame spirit with little capacity for true spite.

After closing the trunk of the light-weight vehicle, the officer spared an awkward glance for the Servant almost as if he didn't expect him to be interested in common roadside banter with mere mortals. "Ah, well...", he began to recount as he rose from the vehicle. "Yes, the Imperial masters are a mystery still. We know nothing about them aside the looks and that a handful of them belong to prominent magus families. Judging from the photos I got, we'll have the easiest time against the Toshaka girl - Disheveled, careless, sleepy, so... Unvölkisch." As he uttered the last word, Emmerich's face adapted the expression of ultimate disappointment. There was no anger behind this reaction either, just mere paternal dissatisfaction as if one of his own two daughters brought home a middle school failure as her new boyfriend. However, it did not last long - The officer immediately addressed the elephant in the room. "Patience, my Rittl'. Patience.", he warmly emphasized the word."I feel your restlessness - I did so ever since we set foot onto this land. For now, I ask you only to embrace the virtuous quality of restraint. Cherish these last few moments of peacefulness we have."

With a minuscule smile on his lips addressed to Rider, Emmerich soon gave one last glance to the forest beyond Shinto through his binocular. "If my anticipations are correct, you may soon have more than you could bite - For your fighting urges, that is." As he set about preparing the consolidation of their presence in this area, only a distracted groan escaped his thin lips: "What are you up to, Brauer...?"

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Emmerich Lisztmayer-Anschütz von Sabern,
Master of Rider
Somewhere on the Eastern Fields of Fuyuki
The 27th of August, 1939

---

The morning dew dripped idly on the few blades of grass that bothered collecting them. In the distance, buildings littered the borders of the fields - But only sparsely, as if the city was afraid of sprawling over the remaining flatlands between itself and the the forested coastline of Fuyuki. Nothing would dare disturb the beautiful idyll of this morning heaven.

That is, until the creaking roar of an engine arose near one of the earthen paths betwixt the fields of wheat. Like throat-cancer on wheels, a tidy little black car rolled along with a lofty demeanor and an ungodly racket that held no respect for the silence and bird-song of the morn. Perhaps the reason why the vehicle was so cheerfully chugging away on its journey is that it had no master - According to the lacking markings upon its hull, at least. The light-weight off-road car didn't even sport a license plate. What it did have was a healthy helping of equipment on the sides and back, as if it was meant to venture onto more treacherous terrain than a pleasant asian countryside. At its wheel sat a person deep in thought, his blue eyes fixated on the road until he eventually glanced aside. His melancholic visage was that of a man who seldom left his mind in silence. Longing thoughts raced in the dark head of Emmerich - His beloved lager, his dear family, his sweet nation.

There was nothing else to ponder on, however, once the loud ride came to a coughing halt on a deserted roadside. Rising from the driver seat, one could finally glance at the officer's modest garments - A simple white shirt, tucked in and its sleeves rolled up haphazardly to the middle of the lanky man's elbows. A field-gray pair of trousers, worn but well taken care of, all kept up by brown leather galluses. A pair of black high-shafted boots, proudly polished this morning no doubt. By all accounts, there was nothing necessarily identifiable on the officer's person. He did not bother to leave the vehicle, however. Procuring a pair of binoculars, Emmerich lazily lit a cigarette and proceeded with spying the horizon. Like a stork, he held still and straight-backed until he turned from the city to the harbor and back. Every odd fifteen minutes, he made a longing glance at the distant forests beyond Shinto in hopes of being able to make out something. He himself was aware of the hopelessness of this endeavor due to the mere distance between him and the home of worship, but the thoughts of his comrade in peril kept urging the officer to keep a hawkish watch over the direction where he presumed the church to be.

After hours of nothing, the lanky figure finally twitched to life again. As if sentience flowed back into his limbs once more, he let the binoculars hang from his neck and opened the driver-side door to exit the vehicle. With steadfast steps, the officer approach the trunk of the car only to open it with a fierce tug and reveal a robust device within - The thing looked nondescript for all intents and purposes, a mess of toggles, meters, counters and rotary selectors. Minutes of tinkering and the addition of an antennae later, Emmerich crouched down as he held a simple headset against his left ear. The officer's voice creaked to life.

"Batallion, hier Zugführer - Batallion, hier Zugführer. Stellung gesichert. Fordere Verbindungsflugzeug für sofortige Aufklärung an. Zugführer an Bataillon!"

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Looking forward to blitz you swines totally not steal your pretty cup for the Führer's liquor cabinet.

Fate/Moribund Swarm

𝕾𝖎𝖊𝖌 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖑 𝖛𝖎𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆!

Name/Nickname/Titles:
ϟϟ-Hauptsturmführer Emmerich Lisztmayer-Anschütz von Sabern
der ϟϟ-Totenkopfstandarte 10

Gender: Male

Age: 50, born on the 27th of October in 1889

Personality:
Despite the stereotype, Emmerich is only as stern as he needs to be. His flinty face much too often gleams with a paternal concern and polite smile, a demeanor that reflects in his approach to everything in life. Underlying the surface of civility, however, hid a soul ravaged and worn by both mortal and God. The less beautiful parts for being duteous have taken a toll on the officer’s psyche - The Great War may have failed to kill Emmerich, but it left him a broken man at the time.

Appearance:
Lanky and slender in the silhouette, the officer would seldom frighten any man at a distance lest they be scared of tall people and ghostly looks. On first glance, Emmerich is nothing too impressive, although he is certainly not disappointing either - Rigorous training and discipline grants him the hardened outwards appearance that all of his ilk tend to show.

Emmerich’s figure is starch, not from gymnasium but from hardship and a lack of gluttony in his life. To call him underfed and brittle would be a complete overstatement, however. Tough like Krupp steel and the stamina behind it to weather through the worst days of mankind, his notched face tells tales of close battles forgotten by history and his posture beams with a charisma and steadiness of a war-weathered warrior. The cuts beneath his dark hair and striking, blue eyes seem shallow - Much to the fortune of their bony-faced owner’s health.

Biography:
Born to a hardly-noticed magus family living within the Kingdom of Hungary, Emmerich’s early life was idyllic among his peers of the Southeastern German Diaspora. The small Stiffoller village of Sabern, nestled within the county he only knew as Branau, provided the world for the young donauschwaben’s impressionable mind. Despite the fact that his introduction to the moonlit reality began quite early, it did not stir up the young Imre’s life too much - The family of Lisztmayer-Anschütz was more concerned with their prized brewing business in the village than the secrets of Akasha and grandeur of the arcane. One would call it a heinous crime to waste magecraft on the perfection of daily commodities and life, but few ever bothered to let the small magus family even know this. Comfortably secluded from the rest of the mundane and magical world, only a folktale of knighthood and medieval inclinations conserved any semblance of the family’s original roots.

The fancifully simple youth of the love-struck Emmerich came to an end when a war arrived that would ravage the world in a way Mankind has yet to see before. Halting his pursuit of a university education, the young german was given the “Black-Pledged Letter from Franz Joseph” instead of a Ph.D. The mood was not too dour initially as he suffered this fate not alone, but with a cheerful cadre of childhood friends - Godwitz, Renner, Reichenbach, Knitlhoffer, Hippele, Bartsch-Bayer, Gruber, Kaifisch, Hinterhüttner; All names now torn from Emmerich’s mind by the noise of crackling machine guns and whistling shells. Only he alone lived through the bloodcurdling groans of death and cold grasp of hypothermia that riddled the Eastern Front - Four years of torturous desperation and the animalistic will to survive drove the fledgeling magus to reach for tools and measures he wishes he could now forget. What began as a patriotic war ended in a catastrophe with no clear goal, but it gave birth to an adept spelluser at the cost of unmentionable acts done to himself and others.

Crestfallen, a hardened Emmerich returned to his engineering studies and silently longed for a life of innocent magecraft at a village brewery by the side of his childhood darling - Yet the war destroyed more than just lives. There was almost nothing to go back to after that fateful treaty got signed. However, the war came with an unexpected side-effect upon the man’s life: It brought him in contact with the Fatherland. Amidst his own despair, Imre took refuge in the knowledge that he and his family is truly no longer alone in this world. He learned when he was seven years old that not too far from his village lied a land in which all street signs were in german, during his university years his professors gave him lengthy accounts of München and Frankfurt and Vienna’s beautiful sights. Up until now these meant little more than fantasies to Emmerich, but during those dreaded hours of melancholy and privation he could finally feel he and his truly belonged somewhere - No longer would the promising village hedge-magus’ family be a tiny fish surrounded by stranger folk. With the destruction of Europe and its empires and kingdoms came the opening of the world for the war-torn grunt. Over the years, a marriage and five kids later, Emmerich perfected his magecraft with the intent of leaving a better world for his children and the next generation of his people.

Following the devastation of the great war and the consecutive lesser conflicts that came from it, the young german engineer did his best to shelter and rebuild his community despite the rising Serbian, Romanian and Jewish aggression in the region. The next few years were relatively uneventful, providing an opportunity for Emmerich to get a grasp on his own life.

Soon the call rolled out from the Fatherland for all german peoples of the world - Be proud! Be united! Hold fast! A call that all of the german diaspora heeded with much enthusiasm. It came as no surprise that Emmerich and all three of his sons immediately joined the Volksdeutsche movements of Komitat Brana. Little did he know that how he assumed help with the governance of the village’s german volunteers would set him on a path of soldiering again - After all, few others in Sabern could claim the seniority that came with being a survivor of the Great War. Organizing his people by the model that began rising among Silesian Germans, it did not take long for a Selbstschutz-like unit to start taking form under his command. However, Fate would have it otherwise and the engineer once more had to leave his fellows in pursuit of a higher calling.

Through old comrades that, mayhaps, saw too much of Emmerich’s dire prowess on the Eastern Front decades ago, an opportunity arose for the engineer - Passage to the Fatherland in exchange of cooperation, first for him then eventually all of his family. After a short review of his shenanigans during the Great War, the offer quickly gained the allure of a military commission and with it a tolerable paygrade fit for a father of five. The rest, as they say, is history.

It was only a question of time when the diligent donauschwaben would make his way into the mythical Schutzstaffel of Adolf Hitler. A man with such ideals of nation and family, shaped and steeled by the greatest war known to humanity whilst hiding a potential of arcane has no place in the Wehrmacht. Following the reinvigoration of his personality and a Kriegsschule qualification under his belt, the hopeful new officer won admittance into the higher circles of the National Socialist clique and the Schutzstaffel in 1927 - Honest service and dutiful following of the stalwart values of the party provided a beeline to a Junkerschule, granting Emmerich the most noble responsibility of managing the german people’s captured enemies.

Life around the Concentration Camp proved to be comfortable for the foreign officer. Despite the many decades of despair and a rediscovery of himself, Emmerich finally achieved his most intimate desire: A life of idleness beside his own “business”, by the side of his beloved. Lovingly caring for his own lager and its every need, the grown man could finally feel himself at home again - An innocent existence, sponsored by the Schutzstaffel-Totenkopfverbände.

Family History:
Very little is known of the Lisztmayer and Anschütz families’ past. The only exact detail that has been recorded is the merge between the two during the Ottoman rule of the region; To avoid absolute erasure by the oppressive muslim occupation, the heads of the two families seated in and around Sabern choose cooperation, thereby spawning the strongest independent magus family of Schwäbische Türkei.

What else is known about the families is spread through word of mouth and folktales. One particular story concerns the Anschütz branch, reciting how a magus of the family granted an enchanted blade to a knight of undisclosed brotherhood by the name of “Auer”. In the tale, Auer was on his quest to smite his enemy in Wiesbaden, who supposedly has slain his loved ones, but could not bring himself to kill the villain alone. Only by the means of a refined sword that would not shatter on the evil one’s armor of white could Auer finally defeat his enemy.

In reality, fantastical tales are the exact opposite of the family’s state. Over the decades, the Lisztmayer-Anschütz has lost its dedication and traditions. At the end of the nineteenth century, the family’s most prominent use of magecraft was defined by the refinement of brewing materials and charlatan-like medicine to enhance their meager following. One could even mock them for barely avoiding inbreeding after every marriage arrangement in the past eleven decades. However, the present time offers many a chance for a return to prominence...

Origin: Equity

Elemental Affinity: Fire

Number of Magic Circuits: A

Quality of Magic Circuits: C

Od: C

Magecraft:

“Stiffoller Refinement Techniques”
One of the most prominent article of the Lisztmayer-Anschütz family solely by the virtue of being the most used and perfected spell in their possession. A relic from the Old Country before being resettled in Branau, the spell’s merit lies in its purification methods. Objectively speaking, the spell itself has the capability to remove impurities and imperfections from any material or object in accordance with the energy invested into its casting and channeling. Requires much chanting - Perfect for preparing alchemical components or, as a matter of fact, barley and hops and wheat.

Hungarian “Divine” Curses
A most uncomfortable and horrifying spell that has been liberated from the hungarian magus families of the region during the one-hundred and fifty years of Ottoman occupation and purge of native folk. Collected with the intent of safekeeping for future generations, the unknown owner may have been originally a distant relative of a certain scandinavian family - The most uncanny reality of Rosseb is that, unlike Gandr, it does not cause heart-stopping when overcharged. Instead, the recipient of the spell is smitten by syphilis in its advanced stages. Varying levels of charging of the spell seem to produce similarly STD-related results.

“Anschütz Assault Tactics”
A pioneered technology by Emmerich himself, born from the harshest hours of The Great War in a desperate grasp of survival. Through dilettante experiments on dead and dying comrades, the war-torn grunt devised methods of advanced Self-Reinforcement to grant himself that much needed edge in the merciless mobile and trench warfare of the Eastern Front. The results are truly astounding: A body capable of exerting force on the level of the aforementioned spell whilst also showing inhuman resilience to penetration, lesser wounds and bleeding.

Equipment:

Fuchs’ Pocketwatch
A mystic code from the 18th Century, from the courtesy of a magus with a love for clockwork and watchmaking. With its gears crafted from shattered fragments of various other relics stockpiles over the decades, Fuchs’ Pocketwatch was made to be the discerning magus’ reliable companion in any fieldwork-related situation. Not only does it always show the exact time, a fourth hand of the watch serves as a compass and indicator for nearby arcane anomalies. As the pocketwatch is bound to its owner by blood, its analyses and transfers knowledge of the anomaly onto Emmerich once the device is brought sufficiently close to the anomaly’s source. Realising that this may not always be achieved without obstacle or resistance, the old Fuchs implemented an active function into the mystic code as well: Once triggered, the pocketwatch will reliably deflect any debris, projectile or spell up to the rank of D.

Sight of Hocher-Hézl
Born on the Eastern Front and crafted out of ingenuity and necessity, the “Sight of Hocher-Hézl” refers to an older spell of the Lisztmayer family which Emmerich only fleetingly knew at the time. Still, he christened his newest creation in honour of the lost knowledge: A runed piece of iron jammed onto his skull. Inserted beneath the right eye, the runes enhance the user’s eyesight and allow for greater focus, enhanced vision and clearer sight once charged and activated. Prolonged function may cause lasting damage to the organ, but once paced properly it may prove incredibly useful for firearms handling.

Waffengesetz
An identification card and some well-greased gears may provide the officer with a great access to the armouries of the Waffen-SS. MP40s for everyone!

Skills:

Feldmaschinist
One would be surprised how useful a man with a degree in engineering could be during a trench raid. Armed with a deeper knowledge of machines and physics, Emmerich exploited his craft for the betterment of himself and his fellows during his times at the various Wehrmacht and Schutzstaffel divisions - Much alike how he did during The Great War. Not only this resulted in a display of reliability that generated trust among his peers, the officer also learned over the engagements how to utilize his knowledge in combat situations. Mechanical equipment such as radios, flamethrowers and armoured vehicles are no secret to Emmerich’s understanding.