VoiD — Roleplayer Guild

The Library is a disappointingly small room in the north quarter of the citadel. It is staffed by two bored-looking troopers and a bookish Lieutenant who seems surprised to see you enter. You quickly are devoted the entirety of his attention, and he directs you to the packed shelves containing the books of your interest. There you while away the better part of an hour before your appointment with the Captain becomes a more pressing matter.

The four men look at you almost askance before the one standing near the middle — a lean fellow with magnificent mustache — laughs aloud.

"Why, of course my good fellow! Come with us, and we'll show you."

You spend the better part of an hour going over sabre forms in the hippodrome, along with a rundown of the basic exercises for carbine rifles found in the Imperial Equites Decreti, the arms manual used by the Dragoons. At the end, you are covered in dust and sweat, but perhaps better prepared for the coming weeks.

It is just over an hour before you are afforded the opportunity to finally report in to the Captain. 

Captain Philolakes' office is a cramped affair reeking of cigar smoke and wood polish. The man himself is a dreary-looking fellow with a long, hooked nose upon which rest a pair of spectacles. He sits behind a well-appointed mahogany desk which sits nearly wall-to-wall in the little room afforded it, and as you enter he rises to greet you formally and offers you a seat. You exchange the standard pleasantries before proceeding into the meat of the matter: your status in the Imperial Dragoons. 

What follows after you hand over your papers could be most closely related to a one-sided interrogation. As he deftly fills out a seemingly never-ending pile of paperwork, the Captain barrages you with dozens of questions on everything from your early life and motivations for joining the Dragoons to your finances and formal education. He is remarkably thorough, even at one point delving into your political loyalties and religious piety. His inquiries are sometimes exceedingly subtle and at other times possess a level of bluntness that would almost be considered insubordinate if said to a superior officer. 

It is, put shortly, a most unpleasant way to spend half-an-hour. 

A short lapse of silence and the last of your now-filled-out paperwork being set aside alerts you to the impending end of the meeting. Captain Philolakes clasps his hands together and favors you with a tight smile. "So, in sum..."

"You are a Crimean nobleman, the son of the Count of Armiansk and one of the rare graduates of the University. You are well-read, devout, and motivated by modern philosophies and familial piety. However, the primary factor in your purchase of a commission in the Dragoons was the simple friendship of a peasant boy. Most peculiar..." 

The Captain rubs his chin and leans back into his chair. After a moment, he shrugs his shoulders and hands you back your paperwork. "Serve your Bandon well, Cornet. Your dormitory is the first on the left, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed."

"You are a peasant from the balkan territories. Your parents were hung as heretics and so most of your young adult life you lived with your grandfather until you were of age and moved out. Soon afterwards you met the love of your life, had two children and..."

The Captain shakes his head sadly and fixes you with a gentle, pitying smile. "Tragedy struck. Most unfortunate..." He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Yes. Well. You decided to serve soon afterwards. And from what I gather you are a loyal man driven by your morals. I'm sure you will serve your unit well."

He hands you your paperwork and stands to shake your hand. "Your dormitory is the first on the right, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed."

"You are a peasant from Hellas, the son of a farmer. After your brothers found their roles in life spreading the word of the Lord, you left to join the army in pursuit of your own purpose in life. A most laudable goal, I assure you." He adjusts his spectacles and continues. "You are a pious fellow too, which will serve you well in the Dragoons."

The Captain smiles brightly as he hands you back your papers. "Go with God, trooper. Your dormitory is the second on the left, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed."

"You are a returning veteran of the Mamluk rebellion, a member of a long-line of proud Varangian warriors. A most gentlemanly fellow compared to most of your compatriots in the, ahem, common ranks, perhaps one day you'll be able to gather the funds for a commission that befits your station."

The Captain shakes your hand and gives you a limp albeit encouraging smile before handing back your papers. "Best of luck to you, good fellow. You are the senior NCO of second Bandon, led by Lieutenant Milos Karras — I expect you will aid him in the training of your new compatriots. Your dormitory is the second on the right, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to the Lieutenant in the hippodrome half an hour beforehand. Dismissed."

"You are a peasant from Anatolia, the son of an accomplished Dragoon veteran. A member of the local aristocracy generously provided you with a formal education in recompense for your father's brave service. Unfortunately, the outbreak of the Mamluk rebellion ended this arrangement around the time you came of age. Soon afterwards you decided to enlist, and here you are."

The Captain nods to himself. "You seem to be a most committed individual, my good fellow." He stands to shake your hand, and gives you back your papers. "May you help preserve the natural order of the Empire. Your dormitory is the third on the left, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed."

"You are a freeman from the Balearic islands, the son of a farmer. You are an accomplished woodsman and equestrian, both fine traits which will serve you well in the Dragoons as you find glory in the service of the Empire."

The Captain gives you a wry grin before handing you back your papers. "Serve your unit well, trooper. Your dormitory is the third on the right, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed.

"You are a veteran of over three years in the Imperial Dragoons, as well as the second son of the Karras family." He makes a small note of approval. "A most respectable house. You are exceptionally well-read in history, mathematics, and tactics, and your promotion to Lieutenant was recommended by nearly all your superiors after you reached appopriate seniority."

The Captain nods to himself. "It is good to see a fellow man of quality, Lieutenant. I fear I have been talking to enlisteds all day." He stands to shake your hand, and offers you your papers. "You will be taking command of Second Bandon. I expect they'll need a good bit of training, but thankfully your new senior NCO is a veteran of the Mamluk rebellion. He should be a good deal of help. Your dormitory is the fourth on the left, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, I expect your NCO's will meet with you a good half an hour before. God's speed and good luck Lieutenant. Dismissed."

// Note: If you're confused, PM me. Basically I'm giving you and Andreyich free reign in how you train everyone for the next IC post. Introduce your character, give a speech, train them for one week or so (~1 IC post) and then I'll move the story onto the last week(s) of training before deployment. Have fun with it! :)

"You are the son of the Earl of Nyon, a german Nobleman. Interesting. You had a most peculiar childhood..." He squints at his paper, then looks almost aghast. "You worked as a farmer and became enamored with horses? A... ahem, provincial tradition, I'm sure. You are well educated as a member of the gentry, and your father purchased your commission as a cornet in order to make a man of you. Hmmm."

The Captain leans back in his chair and scratches his head before sighing. "Well, I'm sure you will serve the Dragoons well. Your dormitory is the fourth on the right, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed."

"You're the youngest son of the Leventis family. I daresay they supply half the Empire's munitions at this point. You decided to shoot guns rather than make them, eh?" The Captain strokes his chin and chuckles lowly. "Peculiar place you find yourself in, then. Too wealthy to be an enlisted man but without the breeding to be part of the gentry — between worlds, as it were."

Captain Philolakes considers you for a moment longer before signing the final line on your papers and handing them back to you. He stands to shake your hand. "I hope you prove yourself worthy of this commission, cornet. There's a reason the officer ranks are generally barred to those who aren't noble-born. Those without the right blood rarely have the mettle in them to lead others. Your dormitory is the fifth on the left, west quarter. Reveille is at dawn, report to Lieutenant Milos Karras in the hippodrome. Dismissed."
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