Chapter 4: Questionable Peace
It's become increasingly difficult to get a hold of Henrietta in the past few days ever since the trial of one certain cardinal. It sparked a load of talk among the people and plenty of very harsh rhetoric, but Henrietta was indeed successful in preventing her populace from crumbling on itself. With an appeal to Tristain's culture of peace and non-aggression, too, ironically enough.
"So that we may be free to choose where it is we will go, when it is we will return, and upon what hill we should come to die on, huh…" I mumble to myself, recalling her speech. It still makes me feel a bit of sorrow, that such a young girl must take the burden of leading a nation onto herself.
Her father, well, dead. They say it was natural causes, but Henrietta herself doubts that, though has no definitive proof. Her mother has fallen mentally ill as her husband's death shattered her, now almost in a walking trance because of it, leaving her unfit to take leadership. Thus, in order to preserve the royal line, the royal family, and the succession of the throne, Henrietta rose up, ready to take the throne upon her coronation.
Granted, she is effectively the queen, as she is the one who acts for her mother. It's just a formalization, is all. All it really does is change her title from Princess Henrietta to Queen Henrietta, although I suppose there's probably some other authority pieces that come into play from the formalities.
But, back on topic. Because of the accelerated war effort, there's a lot of coordination between Henrietta and her military staff, namely the nobles who have already pledged to lead their armies following Henrietta's speech. Henrietta is of course, keeping me on reserve, as the Musketeers are not tied to any noble branch and also are under Henrietta's complete command. And right now, the nobility class seem to heavily underestimate us. According to Agnes, we will be deploying merely to assist in crucial areas or in "required victory" battles. In short, we are the desperate measures.
My actual presence and position has been kept obscured as well. It's neither been broadcasted nor really talked about even in private. As far as everyone knows, Agnes is still the commander of the Musketeers since it's not like any of the nobility really care to ask about us. We let them draw their own conclusions for the most part. We're practically invisible to them, as only one such family has bothered to inquire about us, along with the formal ranking.
It was a few days ago, when Henrietta came into my office, looking rather distressed. She told me that a "Lady Valliere" was coming the following day and that I was expected to be in tip-top shape, in full uniform and everything. I then made sure my coat was cleaned, had my boots shined, and even consulted with Springfield to know if I would've passed an inspection at a Griffin gala.
I don't think I'll ever forget that woman. Or perhaps I could say "force of nature", as cliche as that is…
I blow the whistle, signalling Gray Team to begin their run. It was a simple obstacle course complete with a few firing segments. It was fairly easy to have them set it up in the morning as well, with a few training dummies and blockages to form hallways and passageways, along with cordoning off the training area with rope.
Essentially, I wanted to get a good idea of their all around performance. While I knew who was good at sniping, I needed to know who I could entrust for closer range missions.
This obstacle course was somewhat comprehensive, in that there was an outdoor segment where you had to cover each other's advancement with suppressing fire, somewhat playing a game of leapfrog, but it also tested their ability to shoot while on the move along with speed. After that was a long range shot to eliminate an enemy archer on an elevated position before moving into a simulated breach and clear. The simulation ended when the hostage inside was brought up to the elevated position afterwards, or terminated early should they shoot the hostage.
Shooting the hostage was an automatic failure of the simulation and for our time trials, was worth ten minutes.
Springfield's team had managed to clear it in four minutes and thirty seven seconds as their average of three runs. While they're all marksmans, some of them have issues with shorter range, which gave them a slight disadvantage on the breach and clear area.
Gray Team, while not being the marksmans, definitely are quick on their feet. I'd say they have the best team coordination or so far, have worked best as an actual squad. So much so that I have to double check when they score a four-oh-seven on the first run.
"Sir, if you could spare a moment?"
I blow the whistle first. "Alright, reset course, prepare for a second run!"
Then, I turn to the musketeer and nod. "What's the situation?"
"Her Majesty is arriving on the grounds with a guest and would like to speak to you."
I look over her shoulder, seeing Henrietta walking ever-so-calmly with what I can only call a dignitary. Long, pink hair that goes beyond her chest, but drawn into a bun behind her aside from two… bangs? I don't know, I don't know that much about hair, that come down to her chest. She's wearing a noblewoman's purple dress, including the puffy sleeves, along with a white neckerchief.
"I see. Very well. Back to your guard position then, I will handle it."
You know, there has to be something in the water here considering that we have purple and now pink hair. What's next, blue and green hair?
"Yes, sir." The musketeer says, snapping a salute before departing.
I blow the whistle again. "Everyone, look sharp, Her Majesty is on the grounds! Rank aaaand file!"
Everyone quickly puts down whatever they were holding and moves to form their squads, lining up much like they had when I was introduced to them. Springfield moves over back to her squad, snapping a salute much like I do when Henrietta is about to be within talking range.
"At ease, Royal Musketeers." Henrietta says with a small smile. I loosen up slightly, giving a gesture to the other musketeers that they can relax. "Field Commander Baker, a word?"
I nod before turning back to the rest of the musketeers. "First Lieutenant Sara, continue the time trials in my place."
"Sir!" She shouts, snapping a salute before walking up next to me, her back straightened up.
"As you were." I say before walking away with Henrietta and the dignitary. I assume we walk to just where we're out of earshot of anyone else and also out of where the muskets won't be a bother to us.
"Commander, this is…"
"Karin Desiree de la Valliere." She says in a stoic, yet presence-full tone. She stands roughly shoulder to shoulder with me, as we're about equal height, perhaps I'm a bit taller than her.
"Oliver Penn Baker." I say back, offering my right hand while still keeping direct eye contact with her. I can tell she's scanning me despite keeping eye contact with me. Sizing me up, as it were.
Henrietta looks a bit worried at the fact Karin does not take my hand straight away, but after a pause of about two and a half seconds, she takes it with her own. I match her grip strength which is more on the tighter end and we give a single shake, letting go the instant it's finished, much like her.
We don't say anything, but all that's needing to be said is taking place already. In her eyes, I can see it. Death. Lots of it. Power and discipline. Perhaps she reminds me a bit of Helian. If Helian had any traces of her humanity stripped out of her. The woman standing in front of me reminds me more of a machine, something that strictly adheres to its programming, its code.
"Do you believe your forces to be enough?"
A test of a question.
"Your Majesty, may I answer this question?"
"H-hm? Oh, yes, please do, Commander."
"I am not a grand strategist. My concerns are accomplishing objectives given to the Royal Musketeers."
A small, fleeting grin. But is it happiness, or that I have fallen into a trap?
"Allow me to rephrase, Commander. Against Reconquista, do you believe your forces to be enough?"
"Forgive me for not answering the question, but it relies heavily on the nature of our engagement. If you mean 'Can we obtain victory in a straight shootout', I can assure you that the enemy has enough troops to merely overrun our position. If you mean 'Are we able to accomplish a local objective to support the main force', then yes."
A pause, as she looks into my eyes again. I don't break eye contact the entire time we have a silent conversation. I wonder what she sees in my eyes. Some of my colleagues used to tell me that it's what made me unpopular with the female commanders and at mixers. There was something in them, maybe from all the sadness I had seen, that made people afraid.
"One final question." She asks, still not looking away from my eyes.
"I'll do my best to answer it."
"What is your definition of victory?"
"Can you be more specific? There are many types of victories."
"Then, what is your definition of an absolute victory?"
I don't even hesitate to answer this question. There's only one correct answer in my opinion, anyways.
"Everyone comes home."
Another longer pause this time.
"That will do, Commander. Thank you for your time."
It still bugs me that I never found out what exactly she meant, but considering how Henrietta looked massively relieved the following day, I assume it was good. When I inquired who she was, I was told something along the lines of "a strangely powerful mage", along with the former head of the Manticore Knights and probably the most fearsome mage to exist in our current time.
I suppose that's why she grilled me, then. She just needed to see how I thought. I was ready to answer about my cover story, such as how I ended up with Henrietta and the bunch, but it wasn't even brought up at all.
Regardless, it seems like we'll finally be getting some communicators, or at least I'll be in talks with the person who's in charge of my project. Something that slightly worries me is that the last name Valliere is attached to the person I'm meeting.
Other than that, though, we do have our orders. For now, we're moving to secure the homefront. Henrietta is keeping us as protectors of a very important location: the Tristain Academy of Magic. Agnes is taking three fourths of us to secure the area beforehand, with the other fourth traveling there later since Henrietta didn't want me to travel alone and we couldn't really spare any more troops.
Springfield has taken it onto herself to appoint herself as my secretary, as when they're not being drilled or making preparations, she mostly stands in my office. It does help considering how she's effectively my liaison to the rest of the musketeers, able to diffuse anything I have to tell to them easily.
"There's an appointment in thirty minutes, Commander." Springfield says as I tuck away another form, having finished analyzing the layout of the Tristain Academy.
"Thank you, Springfield."
"Ah, though unfortunately I haven't had the chance to go into town recently, so I wasn't able to buy any ingredients to bake muffins. They're very useful for getting a conversation going."
I can't help but chuckle a bit at that. I suppose food is always something good to offer in these kind of meetings.
"Well, could you have some tea prepared for our guest, then?"
"Of course, sir."
With that, Springfield gives a small bow and exits the room.
Most of my time has been occupied not only with our latest assignment, but also me reviewing our teams along with previous mission reports. If Springfield came into here, then it should stand there's a chance for other T-Dolls to arrive. And since Springfield is an exception, as she has Anti-Human protocols, it means that other T-Dolls they've encountered are less likely to have them. Meaning that if I can find any encounters where female humanoid targets were present and refused to engage, it might mean I have a sign of other T-Dolls present.
So far, I haven't found anything. But then again there's a lot of reports to look through. The musketeers do a lot of peacekeeping operations, it seems, as the nobility class can't be bothered to really take care of banditry unless it's really affecting their main territory. Thus, when word of this reaches Henrietta, she usually asks Agnes to take care of them in order to help her citizens.
Granted, if it's banditry, I don't think there's any chance of running into T-Dolls, so I should be able to skip over the reports… if I didn't fear that if T-Dolls can be brought into this world, there's no explicit reason I've discovered that says that SF units can't. Thus, it falls on me to make sure that isn't the case. Thank God I haven't encountered anything that would indicate that the SF have any presence here.
"Commander, there is someone here to see you."
"Come in." I say, biting my tongue to avoid using a name.
The door opens with Springfield elegantly balancing a tray with a teapot, two cups, and saucers on it. She then holds it open for a blonde woman with amber eyes; in fact, an almost dead ringer for her mother, down to the sharp expression in her eyes. However, she's wearing a white shirt and a purple vest instead, along with a matching purple skirt.
I get up from my chair after Springfield sets the tray down on my desk, putting out a hand and keeping eye contact.
"From Academia, I assume?"
She gives a curt nod. "You are Field Commander Oliver Penn Baker, yes?"
"Indeed I am." I say, waiting for the handshake. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."
She then finally takes the handshake, giving it a single shake just like her mother. "Eleonore Albertine le Blanc de la Bloise de la Valliere."
"Quite a mouthful, if you'll pardon the joke. Please, have a seat." I say, gesturing to the seat across from my desk. "First Lieutenant, if you would."
"Yes, sir."
Springfield gives a sharp salute before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.
"May I call you Doctor Valliere?" I ask as I reach into one of my drawers to pull out some of the notes I had for this meeting.
"I am not a medical practitioner."
"Ah, force of habit. I've just known a few academics who, upon reaching the heights of academic prowess, are called doctors. Will Professor Valliere suffice?" I say, realizing only now that I had not actually asked about academic achievement and structure here in this world.
"It will do. Do I have your permission to transcribe our conversation?"
"If you believe it will help, yes." I say, putting my papers on my desk. "Ah, and there's tea if you'd like any."
She doesn't go for it, but instead opens her suitcase to pull out a notepad, a bottle of ink, and a feather. Afterwards, she lays the suitcase flat on the ground, along with the assorted items, then mumbles a few words, which seems to cause green hands of what I assume is wind to hold onto the items in the air.
"So, can you describe the item in question?"
"Ah, of course." I say, flipping to my first page. "What'd I'd like is to be able to have a man portable and wearable series of devices that allow for real time vocal communication. As you know, we in the Royal Musketeers do not use or more specifically, cannot use magic, and thus long distance communication and updating each other on situations as they unfold is difficult."
"So, you'd like to be able to use the Message spell on demand?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. "I suppose it's a trivial spell for mages, but it still expends willpower. Asking to be able to use it to facilitate a conversation is… I don't think there's any research projects into it as of now."
I can understand that, of course. There's been no need to innovate it. Right now most communication goes along the lines of "here's your orders, so retreat", coverable in one sentence and one spell. There's been no need to actually micromanage squad movements.
In short, this research will likely shift the very paradigm of warfare. Being able to in real-time respond to enemy movements… the strategic value in that simply can't be measured.
"Can it be done?"
The bespectacled woman in front of me gives me an "Are you serious" kind of look before her head turns away slightly. She closes her eyes and puts a hand to her chin. I decide to let her have her time to think before saying anything.
"...I can't say it's definitely impossible. What's your budget?"
"Please ask Her Majesty about that, I was tasked with simply conveying the idea."
"I see. Alright, continue with its operation, then."
"Ideally, I'd like for it to be toggleable. Essentially, I can turn off the communication if I want to, such as if I'm sneaking into a building, I'd like to minimize any noise, along with not transmitting background noise the entire time."
"Understandable."
"As for multiple devices, I would like to be able to switch between let's say, channels. If, for example, we have devices A, B, and C, and device A and B are on channel one and C is on channel two, C should not be able to transmit to either of them nor receive their communications. If A wants to communicate with C, they'd have to switch channels."
"Now that is definitely something I'll say is impossible with what we know. If you want something like that, you would need multiple pairs of devices." She says, crossing her arms.
"Ah, thank you letting me know. Let me get into the design, then."
I then explain the ideal design, such as an earpiece, but having it be on the wrist such as a bracer wouldn't be so bad either. Professor Valliere still isn't sure if it's actually possible, but she was able to say that depending on the budget, it might not be impossible. So, I can hope that's the case.
"Thank you for taking the time to discuss this with me, Professor Valliere." I say as we get up, according to the clock an hour and a half later.
"It's part of my job. And after all, a request from the acting queen is very far and few between. This benefits us both."
Ah, I see. That's how it is. Henrietta probably knew she could get someone by making it her own request.
"I have to say though, I wasn't expecting such a difficult request."
"I apologize for that, Professor."
"You don't need to. We all have our jobs to do." She says, keeping that professional and to the point tone her mother used. "Well, you're lucky to have one of Academia's best wind mages on the project. Message is a wind element spell, after all."
"I'll thank my lucky stars, then. Would you like me to see you to the entrance of the castle?"
"Thank you for the offer, Field Commander, but I'll have to decline. I'd like to see if I can't discuss things with Her Majesty first, before I leave."
"I see. Well, thanks again, and safe travels then."
We exchange another brief handshake before she leaves, taking her suitcase and materials with her. Afterwards, Springfield steps back into the room, closing the door behind her.
"Were you waiting outside the entire time?"
"It was to prevent eavesdroppers, sir."
"I see. Thank you for that, Springfield. You can resume your duties, now."
"Thank you. Additionally, I would like to remind you that we are departing at nine hundred hours tomorrow for the Tristain Academy of Magic."
I nod. "I'm already packed as well, but thank you for the reminder. Are you packed?"
"Mhm, I'm ready to go. Shall I fetch and pack my weapon?"
"Bring it with you, but we'll hope that it doesn't become necessary to use." I say, leaning back in my chair. "Have you picked up on any other radio signals?"
"No, sir."
"Well, guess we'd have to get lucky for your short range sensors or for your radio broadcasts to pick up on them." I mumble, closing my eyes. "Think we'll ever find any?"
"The world is very large, so it's already very improbable. A lack of long range communication doesn't help us either, but I think it might be possible. I think you might also be able to persuade Her Majesty to look into foreigners who don't know the language here. Not all of them will have the luck I did to run into a mage."
"That's true. Though I figure they'll try to stay out of trouble and out of sight, their behaviors will give them away as foreign elements which will breed distrust. On the other hand, rural communities might reject them; it'll be easier to blend in the cities, because no one's going to care for the most part."
"However, there aren't any major sprawling city centers that are comparable to the ones we know. Or at least, none that I have seen myself. Tristain is a larger settlement, but it's still relatively small, so the word would definitively still spread."
"I suppose…"
Hmm…
"I wonder if there's a way we could signal them."
"Sir?" Springfield asks as I open my eyes, sitting up.
"Such as if we publicly identified ourselves as Griffin, spread the term "T-Doll", things like that. Any actual T-Dolls might take a look."
"They might also believe it to be a trap."
"I suppose, but we'll at least get a few who might not think it isn't." I say, leaning forward on my desk. "Though, since the name 'Musketeer' is already in place…"
"It's difficult. Hmm… Commander, I have a solution."
"What do you have, Springfield?"
"I'll propose a subsquad within the musketeers to Captain Agnes. Meant to take the specialists of various types of engagements for particularly high risk missions. This elite squadron will be henceforth referred to as the 'GK Team', with its members publically referred to as 'T-Dolls', short for Tactical Doll should it come into question."
"That's a good start, but there's a money trail that could be followed."
"In order to make it seem like they are separate from the musketeers, however, any expenses they incur will be listed as 'G&K Military'. Would that suffice, Commander?"
"It could, though you'd have to be careful with how much you're spending. Her Majesty should take care not to slash the funding of the Musketeers in order to fund our little 'G&K Military', or that'll be a potential link." I say with a small smile. It could definitely work, though. Uses all the terminology that would get a T-Doll to come to us.
"Of course."
"It might also help in making people think Henrietta's forces are more powerful, as well. While we're at a numerical disadvantage, the idea that she possesses in her ranks elite shock troopers could help morale."
"Do I have your permission to suggest it then, Commander?"
"I'll think on it tonight, Springfield. I'll let you know tomorrow morning."
She gives me a salute. "Yes, sir."
"Anyways, I think that's enough for tonight. I'll save the report reading for after we get to the Academy." I say, getting up from my chair. "I'll be retiring to my room now, so please feel free to go back to the barracks."
"Understood. Good night, Commander."
"Afternoon, Commander." Agnes says I disembark from the carriage. "Need a situation report?"
"Go ahead." I say, receiving my briefcase from Springfield before walking with Agnes along the paths. It's just as I was told. Walls forming a pentagon for the five elements of magic, one central building in the middle with hallways connecting each of the corners to the center.
"We've already set up shop in the northern classrooms. Most of the male students have been recalled in order to fight in the war, leaving a population of mostly female students."
"Most?"
"There's a few from other kingdoms that aren't obligated to fight."
"I see. So we're here for domestic peacekeeping?"
"On paper, we're here as this is a potential high value target. But…" Agnes lowers her voice. "...something like that."
"Understood. A bit of a sour surprise."
"We're not taking them in, but you have to keep your eyes open." Agnes says matter-of-factly. "In addition, I've taken the liberty of having the students engage in drills."
I stop walking with her, giving Agnes a very questioning look.
"With all due respect, Commander, this school is too large a property for us to adequately defend all at once. The teachers here are academics, not fighters. The least I can do is to teach the students enough to at least have an idea of how to fight so they can put up some resistance if we can't get to them in time."
I sigh, shaking my head.
"It's not that I don't think that's a tactically good move, but…" I pause, trying to find the words. "I've got moral qualms about introducing them to war. Call me old fashioned."
"Nothing old fashioned about that. But we do what we need to do to survive. This is war, now, and our enemy has shown itself to not be above dirty measures."
"I'd rather do it without dirtying my hands with the blood of children, though."
Agnes sighs, probably out of frustration. Maybe at me, and at the situation at large.
"I know how you feel. Some of those girls in the musketeers just barely turned of age as well. If they had any talent for magic they'd probably be here now, anyways. There's a difference to me when I take in a young one and build them up. You can teach them, help them learn, and really get it into their heads what fighting is." She says, her arms crossed as she looks away from me. "We don't have that luxury right now, so I'd appreciate it if you could at least work with me here."
"I wasn't telling you to stop. However, if you would at least allow them a semblance of normality in their lives, that would be appreciated."
"Classes are already suspended while the war goes on. Save for one professor, anyways, who insists on hosting his classes. Might as well give them something to do."
"Well, let them at least go to that one class."
"I was planning on it. I'm not as heartless as some people might think."
I get that there was an implied 'you might think', but she was just being courteous. "Well, at least let me attend one of your training sessions. What exactly are you teaching?"
"Survival. Basic self-defense. These students don't have the mentality to kill anyone." Agnes says as we resume walking towards the northern area. "There'd be no point to teaching them something like that, they'd just freeze up when it came time to actually take a life. So, I've taught them delaying tactics. Things like how to make an escape, how to pay attention to your surroundings, basic hand to hand self defense techniques, the sort."
"Well, you should have said that from the start. I would've been a bit more supportive of it."
"Sorry for the miscommunication then, Commande—you, over there. Out."
At that moment, Agnes had drawn her sidearm, which was similar in make to her musket but smaller, obviously, pointing it behind me. I turned around, stepping to the side in order to put some distance between Agnes and I.
I would say it was a meek, bald man that stepped out, dressed in humble dark grey robes. But the way he carried himself and his posture told me a different story. And much like Karin Valliere the other day, so too, had this man's eyes seen ruin. For Tristain's supposed inclination towards peace, there sure are a lot of... troubled souls.
Agnes sighs and holsters her weapon. "I should have known. I'm not changing my mind, Professor."
"I didn't come to make the case to you, Captain Agnes." He then looks at me. I see how it is.
"Captain, go on ahead. I'll ask the professor here to bring me to the classroom later. The least I can do is hear him out." I say, gesturing with my briefcase.
Agnes gives me a stern look before sighing, leaving the two of us. I reach out a hand as the professor comes forward, holding onto a wooden staff that looks more like a shepherd's cane.
"Oliver Penn Baker. Good to meet you, Professor…"
"Professor Jean Colbert, sir." He says, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. Despite his meek frame, it has… strength behind it.
"You don't need to address me as 'sir', Professor. I understand you and the captain might not see eye to eye on the training of the students?"
"I don't know if you have the power to stop her, but you can at least argue for it, yes? For the Founder's sake, these are children. We should not be putting them even close to the flames of war."
I close my eyes and nod. "Something I would agree with you on, Professor. However, please understand that the musketeers aren't enough to cover the entire premises. We can't spare any more troops as it is with the mobilization for the campaign. Captain Agnes is doing what she can; she has informed me the drill curriculum consists primarily of survival techniques and hand to hand self-defense techniques. If it would placate you, I will personally sit in on those drills and ensure she stays to that, and if you'd like, you can observe. If there is something that is not to your liking, I would be willing to facilitate discussion."
"You're… a quite learned man, it seems." He says, perhaps taken aback by such an argument and willingness to cooperate. "But there's no magic about you, not even a familiar…"
"Perhaps my familiar is merely invisible right now, awaiting my command to spring into existence." I say, fully aware that higher education is generally reserved for the nobility, so my ability to make arguments in a business-like negotiation might be suspect to him.
My posture should give nothing away, as it's about as neutral as one can be. He only narrows his eyes, likely a bit suspicious of me.
"Are you a mage?"
"No, no I am not. Merely someone educated in war. But, regardless, I don't intend to make children fight war, Professor. If there should be an enemy attack on the Academy, then I pray that it will be on a front that musketeers are guarding so our students will not have to experience death and destruction."
"Let us hope that there will be no such attacks."
"Indeed. If there is anything else I can do for you, Professor, then please do not hesitate to come talk to me. If you cannot locate me, ask for First Lieutenant Sara, as she has taken on the duty of being my primary assistant."
"I will, then." He says with a nod. "Ah, allow me to show you to where the musketeers have made their headquarters, it's the least I could do."
"Ah, of course. Thank you. Though, if you have any time later, I'd like to ask what exactly your classes teach. While I certainly can't use it myself, knowing is always useful."
"I'm surprised you would take an interest in it." He says as we walk along the path. "Most commoners simply fear magic."
I can't help but smile a bit. "Well, believe me when I say this, professor, that despite all that magic is capable of, from all that I have read, there are still fears that all the magic in the world could never fix."
"If only that weren't true."
We both share a quiet, perhaps broken, chuckle at this, as we arrive to some hustle and bustle by the classrooms, like the rest of the musketeers getting set up. As Springfield waves after putting her own suitcase up on a table… well, yes. If only it weren't true, that magic couldn't solve every fear in the world.
"Well, good day then, Commander Baker."
"Same to you, Professor."
I wonder just what his story is, as he walks away. Perhaps I should look a little more into Tristain's history. It seems that despite Henrietta's leadership into peace, there's a bloody footnote somewhere. And maybe it will let me understand just why exactly it seems that Tristain is a gathering for the heavy-hearted…
Well, all those who are familiar with FoZ know what's coming up. Mostly just a break chapter today. Sorry for the delay, too, but I got preoccupied with some travelling for conventions and whatnot.
Not much to say here, other than just Oliver meeting a few others and establishing things. I enjoyed writing his interactions with both Karin and with Colbert, as I felt that Oliver could probably see a bit of himself reflected in them. Also got to make it a bit of a characterizing moment for Oliver when he gives his definition of absolute victory; while technically saying "no losses" is an equivalent way of saying it, it would speak to what kind of person he was when he phrases it as "everyone comes home". Originally I had Karin ask him "Do you truly believe in miracles?", but I felt that wasn't very Karin-ish.
Also had some fun with how they could signal other T-Dolls to come over to them, in a way to sneakily reference Girls Frontline, though it does make a remote amount of sense that using the symbols would catch the attention of T-Dolls. Low key half the fun of writing this so far has been Oliver trying to figure out solutions using low tech/magic. FoZ's magic system is uh, kind of loose, to be honest, but like, there's a few rules as far as I remember, so it is slightly flexible, I suppose.
Anyways, not much to say other than that. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I guess see you guys next time.
