#learn to spot an ally and a brother for fucks sake people we are fighting genocidal fascists you think theyre gonna care if finn

[sakebytheriver]

Wait, are you guys really getting mad at F1NN5TER for crossdressing I thought that was joke 😭😭😭😭😭

[stateofloveandnegan]

A Funeral - Richard Madden

I love angst and this honestly broke my heart while writing it. The ending really annoys me, but I couldn’t get anything better out, so I hope this’ll do.

Requested by: no one

Warning(s): angst, loss of a parent

Masterlist

“I can’t get a hold of him either.” The sound of my brother’s voice echoes through the room. The two of us are totally and utterly wrecked.

Only yesterday, we got the news of our mother’s passing. It was something everyone was waiting for; she’d been sick for so long. It still came as an immense shock. Toby, my brother, doesn’t show how hurt he is, but I know him better than anyone else, and I can see right through that mask he’s putting on.

Still, I appreciate it more than anything how strong he’s being. Because I am the exact opposite; all I can do is cry. My mother was the one who raised the two of us, our dad has never been in the picture. She’s always been there for us. Frankly, my mother was my best friend.

When she got sick, it broke my heart. I started looking after her even more than I already did as she got older. She appreciated it with her whole being and to suddenly not have her with us anymore, I can’t even explain how much that hurts.

“He hasn’t replied to any of my messages or calls… Allison tried to contact him, too. But nothing…” I say in a shaky voice. Richard, my boyfriend of two years, is away for a new project he’s working on. He would return home in a couple weeks, and we’ve been in contact as much as we could. But ever since I messaged him about my mother’s passing, the contact was suddenly cut off. I have no idea why, but he hasn’t said anything to me.

Now, with my mum’s passing, I need him with me more than anything. But nobody, not me, not my best friend, not my brother, can get a hold of him.

Toby frowns and walks up to me, wrapping his arms around me to comfort me. “I’m sure there’s a reason for this, (Y/N). He loves you.”

I let out a shaky sigh, my arms loosely around Toby’s waist and my face pressed against his chest. “I know he does, I just hope he’s alright… I need him here with me, especially at the funeral.”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll be back by then.” Toby speaks softly and presses a kiss onto my head. “I’ve got to go now. Marlene and the kids need me. Are you gonna be alright?”

I nod my head and wipe my tears. “Yeah, don’t worry.” A small smile enters my face and I try my best to make it seem real. Toby sighs out an apologetic smile before gathering his things and leaving me alone at my house.

The next few days, there’s still no sign of Richard. I’ve tried calling him at least a hundred times and I’ve sent him at least a thousand messages; nothing.

Most people would be worried to the bone, but the worry inside me is mostly covered by anger. I can’t believe him. He knew my mother wasn’t doing well, for heaven’s sake, he used to ask how she was doing almost every single day. And ever since that message, he’s gone. It’s like his existence stopped. Or if I stopped existing to him. Maybe he found another while he was away for work. Maybe he figured that if he’d just pretend I wasn’t alive, he could start a new live with her.

No, I don’t believe that. I can’t believe it. Rich and I have been talking about marriage, about kids! Surely, he would never do such a thing. He’s the sweetest guy I know, he wouldn’t hurt a fly…

The day of my mother’s funeral is around the corner and my brother and I are finally done with all the official work. The crying has become less bad, but the ache is still there, I’ve just learned how to cope with it better than I did at first.

I still haven’t heard anything from Richard, I don’t even expect him to be there tomorrow. Even though I secretly hope he will be there, of course I hope that he’ll be there… but honestly, I wouldn’t know if I’d be happy or pissed if he’d show.

“You holding up a little?” Allison asks me as she walks up to me. It’s the day of my mother’s funeral, I’m currently standing by her coffin. There are only a few people here: me, my brother and his family, my mother’s sister, and Allison. And of course, the people the arranged the funeral.

I sigh shakily and shrug, “I’m managing. I just can’t believe he’s not here.” I say, feeling my blood beginning to boil. My knuckles turning white as I fist my hands. Allison takes notice in this and takes my hands in hers, “I know that you feel like you need him here with you, (Y/N/N), but you’ve got me, you’ve got Toby; you’ve got yourself. Try not to think about him too much today, try not to let him ruin today. I know today is awful, we’re saying goodbye to a beautiful soul that is your mother. But today is also a beautiful day, so don’t let him ruin it.”

Alli gives me a soft look and she can see that I’m on the verge of breaking, but I stand strong, pulling her gently into my embrace and hugging her. “Thank you, you’re right. I don’t need him. Today sure as hell isn’t about him, it’s about mum.”

“Exactly. Now, c’mon. let’s take our seats before everyone comes in.”

We sit down beside my brother and his family, all slightly teared up.

A little while later, everyone is standing outside, gathered around the coffin that is about to go down into the ground. I hiccup, tears streaming down my face as most people leave us, the family, behind to say our last goodbye.

I feel like my heart breaks into a million more pieces as the coffin hits the ground. Shaking, I throw the rose in my hand down at the coffin before collapsing into Allison’s side. She, too, is crying, but not as hard as me. After a moment of letting it really sink in, we turn to walk back, but I stop dead in my tracks when I spot him.

There he is, standing in a black suit as if he’s been here the whole time. But something tells me he hasn’t, because his hair is extremely dishevelled. “(Y/N)…” his voice is hoarse and his eyes look extremely guilty and sad.

I shake my head, unable to believe he’s there. After a week of ignoring my existence, he’s standing there. At my mother’s funeral, he dares to show up.

But this is what I wanted, right? I wanted him here with me so badly.

Not anymore.

Right now, I can’t stand the sight of him. He left me to deal with all of this on my own.

“Go.” Is all I manage to get out, my voice extremely broken and hoarse. Toby, Susan, their kids, and Allison are awkwardly standing beside and behind me, not knowing what to do in this situation.

Richard takes a step closer to us, but is still a couple of metres away, “Please, I can explain…”

“No, Richard, don’t start.” I say, my voice breaking even more, “I don’t want you here, go!”

Allison grabs my hand, as if to tell me to back down. Richard has tears in his eyes, I can see that very clearly, but after the trick he pulled, I just really don’t want to see him. I gently, but firmly pull my hand out of Allison’s grasp and send Richard another warning look, “Go.”

Richard looks at my mother’s grave, tears rolling down his face. He and my mum were amazing together. Richard would do anything to cheer her up if she was down, or in pain, and he always managed to succeed. My mother loved him like it was her own son.

When he looks back at me, he can see my broken face, but he can also see that I’m serious. He runs a hand through his wild hair and sniffs before turning around and leaving.

I break down as soon as he’s out of sight, both Allison and Toby catching me up. Toby tells Susan to go with the kids. “I can’t believe him.” I whimper, my breathing uneven. “Calm down, (Y/N).” Toby says softly, rubbing my back. “Easy…”

The rest of the day, I’m pretty much the same. Every tiny little thing that happens, is a reason for me to break down and I just can’t anymore.

Allison decided to stay over, so we’re both in our pyjamas. I looked horrible, so Alli made me shower and now I look somewhat decent, but it’s very clear that I’ve been crying pretty much all day.

“I’m gonna make some tea, can I get you something to snack?” Alli asks sweetly and I shake my head, “Tea is enough, thanks.”

The tv is playing quietly, a rather funny movie playing. I’m glad it’s on, because it’s keeping my mind occupied for the time being and for the first time today, I don’t feel like crying.

The bell ringing snaps me out of my daze, but Allison is quick to tell me she’ll get it. I don’t focus entirely back on the tv, curious as to who is at the door. When I don’t hear anything, I turn to look at the hall and when I see Richard standing there, my blood immediately begins to boil.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” I ask through gritted teeth, my voice beginning to shake again. Allison quickly moves before him, “He’s here to pick up some stuff, (Y/N/N). I told him that he could stay at my place, since I’m here with you.”

Richard’s face looks exactly the same as it did before; he’s hurt and he feels guilty. “Go get it and leave.” I say and turn away from him, my heart breaking. “I don’t want to see you.”

“(Y/N), please… I swear I wasn’t ignoring you, my phone-” he starts, but I cut him off, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Richard forms another word, wanting to continue, but he decides against it, not wanting to start a fight. He lets out a choked sob before running up the stairs to grab the stuff he needs. I let out a deep, shaky sigh.

“Maybe you should give him a chance to explain, (Y/N/N).” Allison tries quietly, walking over to me. I shake my head, “He had a week, Alli. I can’t stand looking at him, right now. Let alone listen to him explain why he’d abandoned me for a week and left me to deal with my mum’s death alone.”

Allison sighs, knowing it’s a lost battle. She drops it, and when Richard comes downstairs, seemingly crying from what I can hear, she lets him out before going back to the kitchen to make tea.

As the days go by, I try to get my life back on track. Which is really fucking hard with Richard trying to contact me every damn hour of the day. The first time he called, I answered the phone, because I had no clue it was him, it was an unknown number; he seems to have a new phone.

After hearing it was him, I hung up and declined every other incoming call from that number. When he realised I wouldn’t pick up, he started sending me messages. But, his messages, too, have I been ignoring.

I just bought a fresh bouquet of all sorts of beautiful flowers, and I’m now on my way to my mum’s grave so I can replace the old flowers with the new ones.

It’s rather chilly as I’m making my way towards the grave, nodding at some people I pass as a greeting.

I can’t help the tear that escapes my eyes as I’m working on the flowers, gently removing the old ones before placing the new ones. I’m kneeled before the grave, my voice a whisper. “Hey mum,” I start quietly, “It’s only been a week or two and I can’t tell you how much I miss you. It’s so empty without you. Well, there’s another reason for the emptiness, but if I could only have you back, that would make up for all of it.” Another tear silently streams down my cheek.

“(Y/N)?” a very quiet and hoarse voice speaks up behind me. I look up and when I’m met with Richard’s eyes, I let out a deep, shaky sigh as I quickly look back to the flowers on the grave. “What are you doing here?”

Richard swallows as he, very slowly, makes his way closer to me, “I wanted to bring your mum some flowers.”

I look back at him and notice a very nice and beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands. I stand up and back away a little, giving Richard space to put them down. He does so, very delicately, saying a couple words before standing up and facing me.

“I feel awful, (Y/N). I feel so fucking awful…”

I swallow thickly, a big lump in my throat. I want to speak, but for a moment it seems like I can’t, and Richard continues. “I know you don’t want to hear any of it, but please give me a chance to explain.”

A moment passes before I regain myself and look him in the eyes, “Okay. But not here.”

Something in Richard’s eyes lights up, and he nods. “Shall we go for a walk?”

Not much later, Richard and I are walking through the park. “Okay,” he starts, his voice a mixture of things. “Last week, I lost my phone, I searched everywhere for it, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. It’s probably been stolen…”

I roll my eyes at his words and shake my head a little, “Let me continue, please.” Richard pleads, noticing my actions. “I used someone’s phone to block all accounts on my phone, in case someone would try and do stuff under my name. Thing is, I couldn’t remember your phone number… I couldn’t contact you. You don’t have any social media either, so I was a little lost…”

Richard lets out a breathy, insecure and unamused chuckle. “I managed to remember your email, so I immediately sent one from my laptop, but you must not have gotten them…”

We come to a halt at a little lake, Richard looking at me and searching for my eyes, “I tried, (Y/N), I swear. I tried to contact you, I tried everything, but I couldn’t do any more than what I did. I could only hope you’d get my mails, so you’d know that I’d come home on Saturday.”

It takes some effort, but I turn my face a little and my eyes finally meet his, “When I got home, I saw all the papers on the table and I immediately knew something was wrong. When I read whose funeral you’d be attending, my world fell apart. I felt awful for not being here when you needed me, (Y/N). Please believe that.”

As if on cue, tears form in both our eyes and Richard is quick to blink them away. “I got dressed in no time and got to the graveyard as quick as I could, but it was too late… I hate myself for what happened. I cannot believe I wasn’t here when all of this happened. I wish I was here when she passed, so I could catch your fall, so I could try to numb your pain a little… So I could hold the love of my life while she needed me most.”

“That’s exactly what I needed.” I speak, my voice breaking. “I needed you, Rich. I needed your comfort.”

Richard finally allows the tears to show and as he speaks, his voice breaks. “I know you did. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened. But please, don’t shut me out any longer. I need you just as much as you needed me. Tell me you still need me, (Y/N). Please.”

Never have I seen Richard like this; begging me to not end things with him. Hell, never have I seen anyone do this. Beg for me to forgive him, that’s what he’s doing. I swallow the big lump in my throat, silent tears unconsciously making their way down my face. “Is it really true? You never ignored me or anyone else on purpose?”

Richard furiously shakes his head, tears dropping to the ground, “I would never do that, I promise!” Richard sobs out, “I love you more than anything, (Y/N). I would do anything for you, you know that. This was out of my hands, I couldn’t do anything about it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel horrible about it. I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“No,” I shake my head, taking a step closer to him, “It’s not. It’s not your fault.”

Hope enters Richard’s eyes and I take another step closer to him, my hands reaching for his, “I’m sorry for not letting you explain sooner, I just couldn’t do it. I need you, Rich. I’ll always need you.”

Another choked sob leaves Richard’s mouth as he throws his arms around me and hugs me tighter than ever; as if I’d vanish if he’d let go of me. “I’m so… so sorry.”

I wrap my arms around his firm torso, my face pressed against him. I’m overwhelmed by the comfort of his body, by the comfort of Richard himself. His scent is all I can smell and it’s honestly the best thing that’s happened in a while. “It’s alright. I’m sorry, too.”

Richard leans back and uses his thumb to wipe the tears from my face. My eyes are still watery, but the tears have stopped rolling down my cheeks. Richard, too, has stopped crying and a very tiny smile enters his face, so does mine. “Let’s go home. We can order some take out and snuggle up on the couch, I wanna hold you.”

I let out a soft chuckle, nodding at his proposal. “Come on, then.”

[fuckingthefictional]

Cross my heart- Part 5

Warnings: war related violence (death, murder, injuries, PTSD), swearing.

A/N: this was uploaded a while ago but as of now (3rd jan) it deleted itself and I’ve had to try and rewrite it from memory, so apologies if it’s shit.

“Sergeant Fenton, you will report for duty at 0600 hours tomorrow morning.”

“Yes sir. Who will I be with?”

“Solo Mission Sergeant. You will be flying over a suspected German camp across the battlefield. You will either confirm or deny our suspicions by reporting back to us.”

“Yes Sir.”

She hated solo missions, they were about ten times more likely to end in death. She just hoped to any God that may listen that she was kept safe.

//

“Why’d you have to go?”

“Because they asked me John- I’m not going to be shot up a post for cowardice and disobeying orders”

“Look- just stay safe Liza.”

“I will, you stay safe too- I’ll be back soon I promise.”

She hoped for John’s sake that she did come back soon, even though she had already accepted her own death and was prepared for what was to come.

//

It was safe to say that she was not prepared for this, a simple flight observation task she was prepared for- but not a crash in German territories.

The atmosphere was seemingly black, as the smoke levitated off of the fiery wreck of the plane.

She was disorientated and in pain. It hurt, her leg was leaking warm thick blood. It painted her hands and stained her flight suit.

Her foot was being pinned down by a heavy piece of the planes’ body, while further up her leg there was a deep gash with some jagged metal buried in it. She’d given up with trying to take it out, as every time she tried it pushed deeper into her flesh.

She didn’t know what to do. She was in enemy land with no way of communicating that she was down. She was as good as dead- but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Not if she could help it.

She slowly began to pull her foot from the heavy trap as she bit down on her flight suit to mute her screams of pain.

She felt a release and looked down to see her leg was now free. There was a sense of relief as she shuffled back on her bottom away from the crash site.

Until she felt something hard it her back, something that didn’t feel like a tree. But more resembled a pair of boots and legs, she looked up and towering over her was a soldier.

He’d obviously been the one to investigate the site to see if there was anyone to be found. It was obvious that the German soldier wasn’t expecting to see a girl before him and was apparently in a state of potential shock.

She took the chance while she could, as she took out a pocket knife and plunged it into the mans neck.

She was sprayed in blood. She’d just killed a man- someone who’s parents, siblings, wife and children were probably waiting for to come home. Only for it to be destroyed by her.

She wanted to vomit up her insides, the sight of the older man with dead eyes made her stomach churn uneasily.

But she had to survive. Using her wits, she stripped him of his uniform and swapped hers with his.

She dragged his body to the wreckage and tossed his body into the flames. The fire rose higher with the new sustenance that it had been presented. There- now it looked as if you had died on impact.

//

47 men. 47 people who were never going to see their families again because of her.

The camp was now eerily quiet and it set her teeth on edge. It was now a ghost town and all life was gone- it was silent.

Her leg was numb now and her head had become woozy from blood loss. She had a few more additions to her list of injuries- a bullet wound here and there, she was in unspeakable pain as she found herself stumbling around as the world before her became disorientated and a mere blur.

But she refused to give up, she thought about Harry and John and how she promised them that she would make it back.

The thoughts of her brother fueled her determination, Harry had always said- when in doubt, trust your gut. So she did.

//

Scrape. Pat.

Scrape. Pat.

Scrape. Pat.

The sounds of the shovelling were starting to drive her to a state of insanity. She had been stuck in the German’s tapper tunnel for what felt like a year- but was really only 32 hours.

She threw the soil behind her, as she kept limping forward. Every inch of her ached, it burnt in agony- and all she wanted to do was succumb to the darkness and join the 47 she had murdered.

But she refused, she kept digging as she hoped and prayed for a way out.

Her prayer was answered when she heard muted voices. Pressing her ear up against the compact soil, she concluded that the voices were speaking English.

This only fueled her encouragement, as she begun to dig faster and the dirt walls crumbled away. Finally a dim light enveloped the pitch black that she had been in for all those hours.

She was free.

And then she was thrown against a wall, she struggled against the strong force as her head cracked against a wooden support beam.

She was panicking and this only intensified when she spotted the glint of a silver blade.

She just had time to move her body slightly to the left before the knife plunged into her shoulder. She screamed out in pain.

“I’m fucking English!” She shouted, “Stop!”

The man’s blue eyes had been filled with confusion and frantic frenzy. She could have fucking swore she recognised those eyes.

“Why you wearing a fuckin’ German uniform then?” A different man who was pointing a gun at her head spoke up.

“Look if you go through the tunnel you’ll find 47 dead Germans.” She stammered, “I killed them- there’s also an allies plane, it’s mine I was shot down.”

The men seemed to confer with eachother as they decided to take the trek and see if their ‘captive’ was being truthful.

//

The next time she woke up she was in a bed, bandages wrapped around various parts of her body.

Her entire body ached and it was only when a nurse entered the room that she realised she was in a hospital room.

The nurse informed her of the injuries she’s had, a shattered kneecap, 3 bullet wounds, a stab wound to the shoulder, and gash in her thigh, a near cracked skull.

And yet the thing that hurt most wasn’t physical, it was the news that she had been honourably discharged from her airforce squadron.

She felt worthless, like all her effort and time that she had invested was just gone.

She had written to John and Harry, explaining what had happened and how she felt unsure of the future.

And then she was shipped off to a rehabilitation centre for recovering soldiers. It was nice to get some time away- where she could learn to walk properly and to heal up.

//

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Miss Fenton, please sit down.”

“It’s Sergeant!”

“Sorry, Sergeant Fenton, Please sit down.”

“You’ve taken everything from me!” She cried, “and your biggest issue is that I’m not sat down?”

“We apologise. It just isn’t appropriate to give you an award for your services.”

“My services? It was not my job to become partially disabled and to nearly get killed.” She began to rant, “You said this would be over by Christmas years ago! And here you all are, sat in comfy offices. As we’re fighting for our country and laying down our lives only to you not giving give a shit!”

“That is enough!”

“It is the fucking truth- and you would be shot for cowardice!”

“We are going to ask you to leave.”

“Gladly!”

It was the letter that arrived two weeks later, that letter was the needle that broke the horses back- the letter that informed her that Thomas Shelby, her saviour, had received extra medals for her services.

//

Harry woke up to the screams again, Eliza wasn’t coping at all. And it broke his spirit to see his little sister struggle like this.

Eliza was beginning to lose sleep as well, she was beginning to lose her functioning side of logic.

That became apparent when John ordered a drink at the bar and it was apparent that Eliza had not heard him.

“Liza?” John waved his hand in front of her face.

Eliza finally came back into the present. It was obvious that she wasn’t sleeping well as the dark circles under her eyes popped out and the pale shade of her skin made her look ill.

“You look shit.” John said bluntly

“I can’t do this anymore- I’m not sleeping, I’m barely functioning.” She began to tear up.

John took her out from behind the bar and took her to the private room, so that his friend could cry in her own space.

She sobbed as John held her frame, he put her on his lap as he rocked them both in an attempt to calm Eliza down. It barely worked but soon enough her heavy sobs were replaced with quiet sniffles.

“Talk to me Liza.”

“It’s Tommy- I’m falling for him and I can’t stop myself.” She sighed and rubbed her face, “but the fucking history between us.”

“What history El?”

She began to unbutton her blouse as she pulled down the fabric to show the old stab wound that ran along the junction between her shoulder and collarbone - It was long and jagged and it stood out against the milky skin.

“He was the one in the tunnel that night, the one who attacked and stabbed me.” She shook violently, “I’m falling for him but every time I look into his damn eyes all I can see is the knife and the pain.”

John just kissed her head, as his own tears began to spike at his eyes.

The door flung open, Eliza didn’t realise how wrong the position they were in looked. What with her hair messy and her button undone all while being sat on John’s lap.

It became even worse when she realised who had just walked in. It was Tommy. He looks furious and betrayed.

“So this is why we couldn’t be together Aye?” He spat, “Because you’re whoring around with me brother. You’re a fuckin’ slag Eliza.” He turned and left as Eliza frantically scrambled to her feet in an attempt to explain.

But it was too late, he had left.

She’d added another injury to her list in that moment- fucking heartbreak.

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 22:  The Last King of Jerkland

Part 21

Hey all! Welcome back to another exciting week of Fire Emblem IV, where we once again ignore the actual evil empire to go rough up another, smaller empire, basically because they’re louder and more annoying and invading is the only way to make them stop bitching for five minutes.  You might not think this is a priority, but you don’t have Lewyn’s strong tactical mind.  A new chapter, so let’s get right on into it.

As their headquarters, uncertain of how to next act. Beyond Meath and the engulfing maw of its peaks lies the dracoknights’ kingdom, Thracia.

(“He also just betrayed Arvis last week by letting Blume die so he could invade the north, but we’re going to pretend that didn’t happen, shut up.”)

Thracia is the only state anywhere in Jugdral regarded as an ‘ally’ by the Grannvale Empire.

(Guess which two of these quirky minibosses will not be important. Hint: it will be the two who we’ve killed before only they had different names and maybe slightly different hair colors.)

Travant has fortified his kingdom for one final, full-scale showdown with the liberators. And Thracia’s people hardly offer Seliph an eager welcome; fearing Seliph as a conqueror, they flock in droves to take up arms themselves.  How could any justice lie in this conflict? For whose sake is this war being fought?

(… For Leif, mostly?)

For the first time, these questions now shake Seliph and his army’s resolve…

(Except, again, for Leif. He’s pretty down with this whole situation.)

Travant, Eeeeew: I’ve no interest in any more excuses! Don’t you dare belittle me, Altena. You are a warrior beyond compare, and you and Arion embody my will beyond these walls. I expect no less than for you to do your duty! And what do I find instead? You’ve ignored my orders, left an entire platoon to the slaughter, and strolled home as if nothing ever happened! I’ve never been more disappointed in you.

Altena: I’m sorry, Father, but at least let me explain! I could never agree with such tactics, which enrich only us at the expense of everyone else! How could you ever expect the proud Thracian people to accept prosperity built on the bones of others? Please, Father, rethink your ways!  

Arion: Enough, Altena. There’s no place here for such meddling. Still your tongue and obey Father! Father, bear in mind Altena is still young and unseasoned. I suspect she merely found the last battle too overwhelming a prospect. Please forgive her, even just this once.

Travant: You know, Arion? If you’d just hold back on the coddling, perhaps Altena wouldn’t be so stubborn! … Look, Altena. I’ll give you one last chance. Take a dracoknight platoon and retake Meath. If you slip again, then daughter be damned, I will accept no excuses! Understood?

Altena: Yes, Father…

Travant: Phew, family resemblance indeed… it’s plainly obvious that she loathes me.

Arion: Father, you have to remember that she’s still a child. Like all children, she has yet to realize that her thoughtless words have real effects.  

(I forgot what a giant enabler Arion is.  You could try standing up to someone, sometime, pretty boy.)

Travant: Hmph, I suppose… I’m off to Kapathogia. I hear Hannibal’s found himself some funny ideas about my plans. And so it falls to me to ensure he loses them before somebody gets hurt…

(*sigh* You’re going to kidnap a baby again, huh.)

Arion: I’ve never seen Father so fearful… what could possibly have happened…?

(He’s realized he’s a shitty general and started a fight he can’t win? Because I am… I am just going to wreck him. Nothing personal. … It’s a little personal.)

Travant: Your armored knights will join her at once!

Hannibal: Your Majesty, I’ve said it a thousand times and I’ll say it again. There is no use fighting this war! We must arrange a truce with the liberators if we wish to recover the strength to endure! Bowing to the Empire was a despicable choice to start, one which left us serving our citizens to the true enemy on a gilded platter.

Travant: I did not ask for your opinion! The rebels have slaughtered my soldiers and stolen our territory. The hour is far too late for a truce!

Hannibal: I thought as much… very well. I suppose I have no choice.

Travant: What’s this, Hannibal? Do I hear traitorous rumblings coming from that mouth of yours?

(… No?)

Hannibal: Come now, your Majesty! Never would a warrior such as I consider turning my cloak. Traitor, indeed!

Travant: Really, now… then I trust you won’t object to a test of your warrior’s loyalty. Until the war reaches a victorious end, Hannibal, I’ll be taking care of your son.

(Called it!)

Hannibal: I beg your pardon, your Majesty?! Do you truly have so little faith in me?!

Travant: You have nothing to worry about, Hannibal. If you don’t intend to betray me, then I don’t intend to so much as scratch the boy.

Hannibal: …

Travant: Men! Bring me Hannibal’s son!

(Okay, not a baby, but it’s the thought that counts.)

Travant: Remember, Hannibal. You have nothing to worry about, so long as you behave yourself. As soon as this war is won, you’ll get him back. I admit I don’t understand, though… the boy isn’t even your real son. How could he have such sway over you?

(FOOOOOOOOOOORESHADOWING)

Hannibal: Cairpre has brought much joy into my life. A true family transcends simple blood…

Travant: Ohohohoho! Could it be? Does Thracia’s great statesman have a soft spot for children? Now, then. Thracia depends on you, Hannibal!

(What a dick!)

(Nobody likes a suck-up, Distler.)

Distler the Suck-up: Rest assured, milord. Luthecia is an impregnable wall! I’ve seen to it myself.

Travant: I’ll hold you to your word. Now, I’ve reason to doubt the loyalty of Hannibal at Kapathogia. I’ve taken his son hostage, just in case, and I’m leaving him to your custody.

Distler the Suck-up: Yes, sir! I’ll not let him out of my sight! But should Hannibal turn his cloak-

Travant: Then kill the son. Don’t be lulled into offering even a child any mercy.

Distler: Understood, milord.

Travant: Good. In that case, I think I’ll leave the defense of Grutia to your hands. Try not to get too cocky with the rebels, Bishop. They’re of a treacherous sort.  

(“Also, that kettle is black.  Hm…. When did I become a pot? This must be Altena’s fault.”)

(“That’s because it is meaningless. Unfortunately, it seems someone on the writing staff really digs their Thracian Peninsula D&D game setting and managed to worm it into the story here. And that, Seliph, is why you always hire an editor.”)

Lewyn: The point of a battle comes from how you conduct yourself in it, Seliph.

(That doesn’t even make sense!)

Lewyn: And we hardly have much choice at this point!

(… okay that’s a better reason.)

Seliph: But what of that dracoknight who was watching us from the Manster peaks? I’ve seldom seen such a sad look in anybody’s eyes… how could I fight somebody like her…?

(Well, I mean, not to spoil you or anything, but…)

Lewyn: That’s enough, Seliph! This is war! If you can’t handle it, then leave! Run home to Tirnanog!

(… Where the fuck did that come from?!)

Seliph: Lewyn…

Oifey: I beg your pardon, Lord Lewyn?! His Majesty is tired and stressed! Such harsh words are uncalled for.

Lewyn: Look, I know. But everyone else is just as stressed, yet they all know we can’t afford to stop. With the resurrection of Loptyr on the horizon, it’s crucial we get to Grannvale and stop the world falling to ruin while we still can.  

Seliph: Thank you, Oifey… but Lewyn speaks the truth.  An inevitable battle lies ahead, and if we see in it naught but futility, then my duty is to carve my own purpose into it. I’ll never again flinch or turn away!

(Seliph could see her eyes, apparently, so if Leif missed her entirely he’s got a lot to learn about being a chosen prince with bad hair.)

Leif: Oh, the woman? I saw her. I don’t believe it’s every day that you encounter a female dracoknight, is it? Was there something amiss about her?

Finn: It was her weapon… she was wielding Gae Bolg, Leonster’s holy lance. And I sensed an aura cloaking her… the holy aura of Nova, like your father.

Leif: What? What are you saying, Finn?!

Finn: There is only one explanation, my lord. Your sister, Altena, must not have died in the Thracian ambush seventeen years ago.  Nor was Gae Bolg lost.

Leif: Altena?! She’s… she’s still alive?! Then what in the blazes was she doing commanding a Thracian army?

(… Duh, dude.)

Finn: I’d surmise that Travant took her back to Thracia as a child, and raised her as his own.

Leif: Huh… who knew a man as cold as Travant could do something so humane?

(… Leif, for fuck’s sake, try to keep up here.)

Finn: It isn’t so simple, milord. Altena is the inheritor of your father’s holy lineage from the goddess Nova. As such, unlike you, she is capable of wielding the Gae Bolg. Power is the only reason a man like Travant would ever be so kind to his enemy’s child.  

Leif: So he’s tricked my sister just so he can use her as a weapon! Travant… what a disgusting man… … I want to help her, Finn. If we can make her see the truth, I know we can work together to avenge our parents.

Finn: My lord, I believe you’re the only one who could possibly convince her now. Even after all these years, my lord, you are still her brother. I’m certain she will open her heart to you if you try.  Please, my lord. Please save Lady Altena…

Whoo! And that’s a hell of an infodump, but time to start the map.  First, of course, it’s time to ignore the enemy for five hours while we engage in gladiatorial combat for blood money.  This time, though, I’m going to do things a liiiiittle differently. It will be pricey, but anyone… let’s who is level 15 or lower, and who has access to a solid 40K gold, will be shelling out the money to buy the Paragon Band before their run and then sell it when they’re done.  This is expensive, seriously expensive, but it will double everyone’s arena EXP gains and should shoot all our levels quite a bit. And we have cash to spare, so why not?  Catch you on the flip side!

Seliph: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Magic, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Julia: Seven wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Resistance

Shanan: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Skill, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Resistance

Oifey: Six wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Luck

Ulster: Seven wins, gained five levels: +5 HP, +5 Skill, +3 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Luck, +2 Defense

Larcei: Seven wins, gained five levels: +6 HP, +3 Skill, +1 Strength, +2 Speed, +3 Luck, +2 Defense

Lester: Seven wins, gained four levels: +4 HP, +2 Skill, +1 Strength, +3 Speed, +1 Magic, +2 Luck, +2 Defense

Dermott: Seven wins, gained four levels: +4 HP, +3 Skill, +2 Speed, +3 Luck, +2 Defense

Nanna: Seven wins, gained three levels: +3 HP, +2 Speed, +1 Magic!!!!!!, +1 Luck, +1 Defense, +1 Resistance

Fee: Seven wins, gained five levels: +5 HP, +2 Skill, +1 Strength, +2 Speed, +3 Magic, +3 Luck, +2 Defense, +3 Resistance

Ced: Seven wins, gained two levels: +2 HP, +1 Skill, +2 Magic, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Arthur: Seven wins, gained five levels: +8 HP, +1 Skill, +3 Magic, +2 Luck, +3 Defense, +3 Resistance

Tinni: Seven wins, gained five levels: +5 HP, +1 Skill, +4 Magic, +4 Luck, +1 Resistance

Patty: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Luck, +1 Resistance

Faval: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Speed, +2 Luck, +1 Defense

Leif: Seven wins, gained five levels: +7 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Strength, +3 Speed, +2 Luck, +1 Defense

Johan: Six wins, gained levels: +2 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Speed, +1 Defense

Finn: Six wins, gained one level: +1 HP, +1 Skill, +1 Resistance

Ares: Seven wins, gained four levels: +4 HP, +2 Speed, +1 Magic, +2 Luck, +2 Resistance

Not bad, though it’s hard not to be a little sad at the people starting to fall behind; anyone who isn’t a kid and doesn’t have a holy weapon is going to start finding it harder to get all seven wins from now on.  Johan, Finn, and Oifey just couldn’t pull through no matter how much I screwed around with the RNG… er… I mean… no matter how… fair I was.  On the bright side, though, we do get four brand new promotions!

Larcei, Fee, Arthur, Tinni, and Dermott are also on the verge, having all hit level 19.  So basically, it’s hard to look at this as anything but a major win.  Go go combat potential! And we will need it, since shit’s about to get fucked.  

Here’s the chapter map; we start in the northeast corner, and Hannibal and Altena’s units will start moving toward us immediately.  Altena, obviously, we can just talk to with Leif, that’s no biggie. But to recruit Hannibal (of course he’s recruitable, why would you even question that) we need to go save his son from Distler in Luthecia castle. The issue comes from the fact that Hannibal and his own castle are between us and there, and he’s of course hostile.  Which means we need to get Seliph and presumably some other units for backup past Hannibal, without killing the dumb bastard, save Cairpre, and get him back to talk some sense into his dad. Again, without killing him. There’s a trick to it, but it’s not guaranteed to work. In general the whole thing is a pain in the ass and frankly it might be better for everyone’s sanity to just kill Hannibal, but that just ain’t how I roll. Let’s do this shit!  

First, though, Faval and Patty have a chat.    

(I feel like I have to mention she literally used her ability to steal money as the reason Seliph should keep her around.)

Faval: Ugh. Look, I don’t care if you’re just stealing from the enemy. I don’t like you stealing at all!  Knock if off, okay?

Patty: What, do you think I like doing this? That I steal for the fun of it?! This army needs to eat, y’know, and we need gold for that! We don’t have all that many options here!  

Faval: Yeah, but haven’t you heard what people are saying about you? I’ve caught people mocking you, like being a thief’s a walking punch line… “What else can ya expect from a pirate’s brat? Like mother, like child,” they kept saying. Of course, I wiped the floor them…

Patty: It doesn’t matter what people think, Faval!  Let them say whatever they want. Doesn’t change a thing about Mom… and it doesn’t change that she was heir of Ullur the Crusader! I was in tears when Lewyn told me about her… I’ve never been so happy!

Faval: Yeah, me too… y’know, we haven’t exactly had the easiest lives… poor orphans and all that. I never even dreamed our mother could actually be a noblewoman!  I don’t suppose you remember anything about her, Patty?

Patty: Nope, not a thing. You?

Faval: Yeah, but… only a little. She was a kind and beautiful woman…

(“And she constantly smelled of the blood of her many, many victims.”)

Patty: So is she… do you think Mom’s dead?

Faval: I can’t say for sure… but as soon as the war’s done with, Patty, we’re gonna go look for her. We’ll find our mother… Bridget… and even though we don’t know his name, maybe we’ll find our father too.

Patty gains +1 Luck from this conversation, and that must be the tipping point because canonically Bridget did survive and they eventually find her. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it’s canon.  Look up Fire Emblem: Thracia 776 for details, but I wouldn’t recommend actually playing it.  

Now, the majority of the army deploys in standard horde formation and getting ready to stab the crap out of every Thracian, but Fee is going to run off on her own.  See, all the map’s villages are directly to the west of the starting castle, across a mountain range, and she’s the only one who can reach it in time to kill the bandits before any of them get destroyed.

Only the one with the axe off to the side will destroy any villages, so we have time, but I don’t want to lose a single one.  Some of them have items, if I remember right, and even if they don’t I just blew like a billion gold on making everyone super buff.  End turn!

Hannibal: Wait. For the time being we should remain on the defensive. I’d prefer to avoid any  needless skirmishes with the enemy.

Lieutenant Palette-Swap: But sir, what about…

Hannibal: … My son. I know, but… for now, I would rather hold back and let the battle unfold, first. My apologies, Kanatz, but I’d like you to take charge of defending the castle.

Kanatz: As you will, sir!

Okay, I guess only Altena moves toward you on turn one. I coulda sworn they both did, but whatcha gonna do? Second verse, same as the first; no enemies are in range, so I move up toward Hannibal’s line and have Fee continue making a beeline straight west across the mountains.  Unfortunately, all of hannibal’s units are armor knights, meaning you have to get right up in their noses before they can move far enough to attack you.  I suspect next turn will look much the same as this one.  End!

Cairpre: Papa doesn’t want to fight! He’s out there risking his life all because of me…

(Cairpre has a distinct, deep misunderstanding of what a hostage is, I think.)

Distler: Silence, boy! If Thracia’s legendary Shield refuses to ply his warrior’s craft of his own will, then we’ll force him to by any means necessary!

Cairpre: Oh, papa… sorry…

Cairpre might be a bit of a loser.  Off to the southeast, Altena’s unit moves up again; they’ll be attacking us next turn, and will be intercepted by Tinni, Arthur, Julia, Leif, Nanna, and Faval. The rest of the team moves forward, pausing in the edge of Hannibal’s unit’s movement range on the forest tiles for extra sweet, sweet defense.   Oh, and Fee continues her field trip, of course. End turn, and let’s do this!

Hm. Not great. Tinni, you could stand to dodge. And two of the wyverns went off after Finn, because he was on the edge of their range and I didn’t notice. Buuuut, I think we got this. First step, I think, is to wipe out Altena’s unit so Leif can reach her.

Awesome!  Now Leif can reach Altena, and…

*twitch*  Welp, mountains fucked that one up! Hopefully Altena won’t shank someone to death or try to fight someone who’s invincible.

Okay, I may have to reset this, but for now let’s play as though it’s not a horrible issue.  Western front, rock out.  

That was not as many kills as I’d been hoping for!  This… is going to hurt. But on the plus side, I was already half-planning to reset, so… end turn.

…. Shit. Ares, please go easy on him?  Hannibal, please use Pavise! Twice, possibly!

FUCK YOU, you stupid old bastard.  Ulster should definitely have died in over the course of this encounter. Did you see how low his health got?! He should not have survived what he did here!  And yet, he did. Everything was going not merely fine but miraculously fine. And then this jackass, who I must note had a very solid chance to survive this battle thanks to his broken obnoxious special ability, runs up to commit suicide and just leaves the Pavise behind on the kitchen table, I guess.  

I should leave him dead. I should leave him dead.  

…

*sigh*

Reset.  

To the east, the people who did their fucking jobs last time repeat a smashing victory, with one difference: I don’t fuck up my movement and can get Leif close enough to chat with his sister.    

(*snerk*  “Waaaaaaait!” What a drama-prince.)  

Leif: I… I am Leif, of House Leonster.

Altena: Oh, I see… the famous Prince Leif, is it? In case it wasn’t obvious… and evidently, it wasn’t… I am Altena, daughter of Travant.

(Altena’s snark game is on-point, damn. Though I guess it’s easy to be snarky when your enemy appears to have an unkempt porcupine on his head.)

Leif: Listen to me, Altena! Your true parents are Prince Quan and Princess Ethlyn, whom Travant slew seventeen years ago. You vanished in Travant’s attack, and so too did Gae Bolg, the sacred earth lance of Leonster… the very lance resting in your hand as we speak! Only a true heir of House Leonster can wield Gae Bolg.  

Altena: What are you talking about?! Are you seriously trying to claim my true father is my king’s arch-enemy?!  That could never be… it mustn’t…

Leif: Look into my eyes.  If anything can prove the truth of my words to you, it will be my eyes. Please, sister…

Altena: Fine… What is this…?!  I know you’re lying, but… but I can’t bring myself to doubt you anymore…

(This would stretch belief quite a bit, if it wasn’t established by earlier interactions that Crusader heirs with similar bloodlines actually can instinctively sense each other. So it only looks like Leif has brainwashed her with his hypno-eyes.)  

Leif: Altena…

Altena: Wait!  I… I must speak with Father. I need to confirm this…

(Bad, bad plan, honey.)

Altena: Or was my father really Prince Quan?!

Travant: Feh… I see you’ve found out at last. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time before this day came. It’s true. Quan did indeed sire you, but what difference does that make? It doesn’t change that it was I who raised you.

(“Am I not the one who has stomped all over your spirit and morals since you were a little girl? Am I not the one who screams at you to slaughter children and the elderly while your heart rots and dies, sick with the weight of your sins? If that’s not fatherhood, what is?”)

Altena: So you… you murdered my parents?  Father…

Travant: Heh…. I suppose I did.  Quan and Ethlyn died at my hand. Do you take issue with that? War is Hell, Altena. War claims lives. Worrying now won’t change a thing.

(What a dick!)

Altena: Gah… how dare you?! How dare you mislead me all these years, Fath… no, Travant! 

Arion: I cannot allow this. If you dare to turn on Father, you’ll have to contend with me first!

Altena: W-wait! I can’t fight you, Arion! I could never-

Arion: It’s too late for you to stand down now. Farewell!

Altena: Nnnngh… Arion…

Travant: … You didn’t just kill her, did you, Arion? You know, you didn’t need to go quite so far…

(Now is when you decide to be a parent?!  What a dick!)

Travant: Eh, no matter. I’m going to join the fray, Arion. I suppose there’s little choice now. You’re in charge of defending the castle.

Arion: Understood, Father.

Travant: I’ll entrust this spear to you… and with it, the future of Thracia.  

Arion: Hold a moment, Father… this is Gungnir! What is the meaning of this? How do you intend to fight without it? Unless… Father, you can’t be-

Travant: I am. Frankly, Arion, I’ve had enough. Thracia is yours to do with as you see fit. But we don’t need to be hated by their kind…

Arion: Are you seriously suggesting I should seek a truce, Father?! No! Never! To comply with the rebels now would be unthinkable!

Travant: As I said, Thracia is yours. Do as you see fit. All I ask is that you find a way to liberate our people from their suffering. Farewell, Arion.

Arion: … Father…

Yeah, that just happened, and… I kind of hate it.  I’m going to be honest, and also going to go off on a little rant again, because this moment always makes me kind of angry.  It feels like Travant and Arion swapped personalities for this conversation. See, the thing is, like basically all FE characters, Travant is an archetype; in particular, he is the ‘Michalis.’  A smug, ambitious jackass, almost always a wyvern rider, who really thinks he is the main antagonist but who is generally more of a speed-bump you run down on your way to the real threat. And the thing that defines Michalis types is that they generally aren’t sympathetic in any way. They’re bastards and you enjoy the moment you riddle them with arrows.  

Now, there’s nothing wrong with subverting archetypes.  If they want to play around and make a character who looks like a Michalis but is actually sympathetic deep down, more power to you! But there is a different between a character being sympathetic, and the game telling us a character is sympathetic.  Because King Travant has been a giant bastard in every moment of his appearance in the entire game, a smug ambitious ass who has murdered and betrayed his way through every scene he was in, while looking down on basically everyone around him and showing zero care for any of the many, many of his own men he’s gotten killed.  Beyond occasional lip-service to ‘saving Thracia’, he’s shown nothing but bottomless ambition and a willingness to kill anyone who gets in the way of it.  And now, all of a sudden, he’s decided to nobly die in battle and leave Thracia in better hands?  This is like Sigurd revealing in chapter six that he was actually working for Manfroy all along.  It’s just such a sudden, random, and extreme shift in personality, blatantly for the purpose of building up sympathy where there just ain’t none to be found.  I generally really like the writing of this game but… wow. The Thracia arc is a hamfisted mess.  

Sorry. Angry writer moment. Back to exciting war.

A bit anticlimactic, huh? Still, we crushed the outer edges of Hannibal’s army, and nobody is in his range so there’s no chance of a rampant suicide again.  We shoooould be able to crush his entire army in one go on our next turn. Meanwhile, Fee is in the range of the bandits over in the village section, so I thiiink they’ll be attacking her? Unless they don’t move, I can’t remember. Let’s see!

Hannibal: Move in on the invaders! We’ll let them proceed no further!

… You’ve been doing that…

Okay, not bad! Now, Travant is moving up and there’s not much time to prep for that, so I’m going to try to kill Hannibal’s whole army in one go. This will be… a pain, frankly.  But if we can do that, Hannibal will go briefly non-hostile as he runs to his castle to get reinforcements. If that happens, you can surround and trap him, since he won’t attack anyone who doesn’t attack him first. Let’s… see how this goes.

…. Almost.  I really hope that was enough to trigger Hannibal to retreat. Run away, you old bastard.  End… end turn.

Yessssssss.  Hannibal didn’t attack, he’s running back to Kapothagia to get reinforcements, and he’s old and cannot run fast.  Once our turn starts, we’re clear to surround him, and send Seliph running straight past him to the next castle.  

Meanwhile, Fee…

My God she is a tank.  How does this keep happening?  Pegasus Knights are supposed to be squishy.

Our turn starts, and I ‘recruit Hannibal.’  

He still has two soldiers alive, but one is a bow user that I can also trap so Patty might eat him, and the other is a healer with no weapon that Patty will also eat. She needs money and experience, is my point. Patty?  

Good girl! Now, Travant’s unit will be hitting us next turn, and he’s a dick, so I’m sending a few units back that way to help out.  Dermott, Lester, and Finn should be able to handle it in combination with the killers who are already there.

So here’s the King Douche himself, finally out and killable, but he’s not gonna make it easy on us. He’s a Dragonmaster, the promoted class of dracoknight, and comes with a Silver Lance and Power Ring to play off his already extremely high strength stat. All his relevant stats are pretty solid except resistance, and he comes with two skills that can make him a pain; Nihil, which nullifies all combat abilities (Luna, Astra, etc.) and in addition removes his natural weakness to arrows as a flying unit.  On top of that, he has Vantage, so once his health goes down a far enough he’ll always get the first strike. Pursuit too, but he’s not terribly fast, so it’s not as big an issue as it could be.  Most of the people who will be fighting him here can outrun him. In addition he has no way to fight at range and his Resistance isn’t great, so mages are his kryptonite in a big way. He’s dangerous, but not beyond belief.

I’mma try to have Leif kill him. You know why.

All right, the turn is mostly set, other than Fee finally getting close enough to save that poor burning village. Go, girl!

I love her so much.  End turn!

Why do people even try to fight Fee.  

…. Well, I’d like to thank Nanna for scaring the shit out of me, and like to thank every Thracian for being a dick. EVERY ONE.  

Okay. Okay. Our turn. To start off? Let’s kill some frickin’ wyverns.    

Ooooh, not great. There’s still several wyverns left, and nobody else can attack.  If the two wyverns and Travant all go for one person, they could kill them. If ooooooooonly there was some way to stooooooooooop him from LANA GO

Clerics, motherfucker. And that’s that! Travant’s group is basically done for; the two small fries will take their potshots, but the king himself is dead in the water.  Boy, that sure was a treacherous and underhanded thing of me to do, paralyzing him from half a mile away with magic. He couldn’t defend himself at all. UWEE HEE HEE HEE HEE.

And now, Fee.

Go Fee! Start flying home to promote, honey, you earned it. Patty continues plinking away at an armor knight while the cleric heals it from a distance, you know the deal; and because I’m not an idiot, I run Dermott back to our main castle and have him stand inside, because wyverns have a huge damn movement range and we’re fighting rather close to it.  End turn.

*smile*

Now then, let’s mop up.

(Syyyyympathetic Anti-Villain~)

Travant: What a pathetic fool that Blume was… how could he fail to kill a runt like you?

(SYYYYYYYYYMPATHETIC ANTI-VILLAIN, SUCH A TRAGIC GUUUUUUUUUUY~)

Leif: We meet at last, Travant… I’ve… I’ve await this day for so long. This is what kept me alive all this time… I’ve lived for this alone… to choke the life from you with my bare hands!

(… Damn, go Leif.)

Travant the Sympathetic Anti-Villain: Heh… as foolish as your father. And unlike him, you can’t even wield Gae Bolg against me! You don’t stand a chance! Now hold still! It’s time you learned the last agonies your parents felt at my hands!

Shame you can’t fight, huh dude.

Travant the Tragic Patriot: Ha! How laughable! A common soldier like you could never even scratch me! I take it you’re ready to die, then?

… No, I don’t know how he dodges while asleep. Same way he talks, I guess. Life is a complicated thing. Anyway, Travant is beaten, so with Leif waiting there to kill him slowly, I start splitting the army up. Those who can promote start heading home, while the others head west to help out Seliph as he moves on to besiege a castle by himself.  He doesn’t really need help, but they’re gonna need to go there eventually anyway. The enemy can no longer move at all; all our turns will be consecutive until we finish up Hannibal’s castle and/or kill Travant. This update is already too long and Patty is just gonna be plinking away forever, so let’s stick to the highlights of the combat:  

Nice!  And of course, now story happens.

Arion: My apologies, Altena. I had to give Father a convincing show, to ensure your survival. I had no choice but to deal such a powerful blow.

Altena: Don’t worry, Arion. But where is Fath… King Travant now?

Arion: … You won’t see him again. Father has died in battle.

Altena: He has…?  How did it happen?

Arion: You’d be better off not knowing. Father’s heart was an enigma at the best of times…

Altena: … Arion. What do you think I should do now?  

Arion: Join prince Leif, your true brother. I’m certain he is still waiting for you.

Altena: Then what will you-

Arion: Altena. This is my fate. There’s no helping it.

Altena: No! You can call for a truce, Arion! Now that Travant is dead, there’s nothing to stop you from seeking peace! And I… I could never fight you!

(Oh god dammit, this isn’t a brotherly ‘I can’t fight you,’ is it.)

Arion: I wish I could, and I would were it not for Father’s final words to me…

(…………….. HE LITERALLY TOLD YOU TO JUST DO WHATEVER YOU WANTED, ASSHOLE.)

Arion: Please, Altena… Go!  However, be prepared. Our next meeting will be on the battlefield, and I will not stay my hand!

Altena: Oh… Arion…

(King Arion of Thracia: What a dick!)

And with that, Altena starts flying toward our army to sign up.  Since there’s nothing else to do but let Patty continue plinkin’ away, I think we’ll call it a week here. Seliph, do the honors!

Seliph: Who are you? What’s the matter?

Cairpre: I’m Cairpre… I’m General Hannibal’s son. And… wait… aren’t you Lord Seliph, the Liberator!?

Seliph: Indeed I am. If I may ask, Cairpre, why would Thracia imprison one of their own generals’ sons?

(“Because apparently being king of this shitty country instantly turns you into a rampaging douche.”)

Cairpre: King Travant took me hostage. Papa didn’t want to fight your army, so the king threatened my life to force him to fight… please, sir! Please take me to Papa! If he knows I’m safe, then he won’t have to keep fighting! Please, we’ve gotta save him!

Seliph: I see…. Don’t worry. I promise we’ll find him. Move out, everyone! I pray we’ll still be in time to save General Hannibal!

Spoiler for next week’s update: we will.  See you then, when we promote like seven dudes, recruit an old idiot and a young awesome princess, and just generally rock out all over whatever is left of Thracia. Go team!

Total Resets: 26. Not sure I should count this since it was Hannibal killing himself on the worst possible target in his range, not anything I did, but I’ve always has a masochistic streak.

Part 23