DeepThought Forum

The general, face stony, plucks the book from the air and sets it on his desk behind him.  Those of you with sufficiently high perception may spot that the title is Suicide Missions Throughout the Ages.

The general clearly sees it, and clearly ignores it.  A small muscle jumps along his jaw.

"How high-risk, sir, and is there, uh... extra pay attached?" I ask.  "Because, I mean, I don't wanna die but if I can do it and it's..."  I trail off underneath his gaze.  "Not that, uh, serving Karrnath ain't worth it, sir, but I got other responsibilities, too."

"The level of risk depends upon your level of competence," he says, tone severe but not precisely unkind, and adds,  "And yes, you will be eligible for combat duty pay."

Zecklin observes dryly, "Major Leatherleaf, I assume?" oddly unruffled about the sloppy military discipline, not saluting, as the half-elf is not in uniform, and looks over the group.  "One moment," she says, and disappears into one of the rooms behind her after a polite rap on the door.  She returns not long after, saying, "General ir'Dulinch will see you now," and gesturing toward to door to indicate you should go through it.  She closes the door behind you with a quiet but ominous click, like a gun cocking, leaving herself outside.

The office is large but austere, in much the same style as the antechamber, with few personal touches, such as the books on the shelves, which look well-worn and well-read, not simply there for show.  The general himself stands at the window, looking out, partially turned away from you.  He's not an old man, but having spent his entire career in the fields of the Last War, until to the peace and his reassignment to Fort Deepdark, his face is deeply lined and weathered, and his hair is entirely white.  His bearing, though, is still fit and upright.  A hard man, formed by hard times in a hard country. 

He turns and returns your salute, then says in a gravelly voice, "At ease."  He looks over the five soldiers assembled in front of him, and lets out an almost imperceptible sigh.  His face shows no weakness, but he does look...tired.

"I am reassigning you to a special operation," he says.  "You will be dispatched on a high-risk mission requiring personal initiative and independent action.  If any of you wish to decline this assignment and return to your regular units, this is your first, last and only opportunity to do so."  He stares, hard and level, down the line of you.

Jump on into the game thread.  Sounds like you're sufficiently good to go

Also I think we are sort of making up the uniforms and courtesies as we go here.  It's not like we have a manual of uniforms, insignia and whatnot to go by. 

I'm just using what I know from my experience in the Civil Air Patrol.

I'm basing everything on my vague undergraduate recollections from Russian literature, so...yes.  lol 

I stride to the desk directly and stop at full attention in front of the Lieutenant. 
*heels click together*

I salute.

"Palitinate.  Antigione.  Sergeant First Class.  Reporting as ordered, ma'am!"

I hold the salute, waiting acknowledgement.

Zecklin salutes back, her demeanor a little too chilly to qualify as 'serene', but it's somewhere in the neighborhood.  If she notices that Astra, in contrast, failed to show proper respect, she doesn't seem ruffled by it.

I was wondering how the Catholic Church handles this IRL, since there are totally Catholic priest chaplains, but Catholic priests aren't free to join the military, so I googled.  Turns out the Church has an "Archdiocese for the Military Services" and priests assigned to chaplaincies are part of that and sort of on-loan to whatever military branch of whatever country.  Or something like that, IDK, I got distracted by noodles.  Mmm, noodles.

Hi!  Game thread is up!

/draws a deep breath before plunging into the icy water

You arrive at the antechamber to the core of Fort Deepdark - its brain, if not is heart - the offices and meeting rooms of the military installation's most senior personnel and their assistants.  You've been summoned.  This is most irregular; any ordinary command or assignment would be filtered through your immediate superiors, not involve a visit in person to the halls of power.

The room is, as befits a Karrnathi military facility, made of sensible, solid stone, no delicacy, but not inelegant in its precisely geometric construction and craftsmanship.  The grey stone dominates, but at precise intervals it is relieved by framed paintings in bold colors, depicting great military victories and sacrifices.  Outside, the first hard crystalline ice flurries of winter batter the wavy glass of the room's high narrow windows.  The chamber's precise symmetry is broken only by a desk which seems rather arbitrary placed - after a moment, you deduce someone has budged it from its usual location to one nearer the fire.  Behind it sits a uniformed human woman, ice blonde hair in an austere bun, whom you recognize as Lieutenant Zecklin, adjutant to Fort Deepdark's commander, General ir'Dulinch.  Her impassive expression suggests nothing, but the encroaching age that shows in the thinning skin of her hands and face, combined with her modest rank, suggests one who has either found her niche, or has had earlier career ambitions thwarted. 

She gestures toward the room's wooden benches, an invitation to seat yourself.  "Once all of you arrive, I will inform the General," she says.  All of you?  Who is 'all of you'?  Her tone does not invite further inquiry, and she turns back to her paperwork.

I'm inclined to start this coming weekend, if everyone is ready by then.  Yea?  Nay?

There's the Blindfighting Sentinel feat...