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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (129/?)
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 17:01:09 +0000 UTCIlunor had remained silent following our brief and impromptu sightseeing trip to Acela.
In fact, all three didn’t have much to say at all, until Thalmin finally broke the silence as we snapped back to reality.
“Emma… I can understand that such wealth of information would be necessary for scholars, nobles, scribes, civil servants, and the like. But what use would such density of information be for the average commoner?” He posited, only to be answered not by me, but Thacea.
“It aligns with what Emma had claimed from the onset.” She began. “That there exists no gods or kings, but only the masses. And with that comes the responsibility and the burden of collective rule.” She turned towards me, as if knowing I was ready to tag team off of that statement.
“And collective responsibility.” I chimed in. “We all share and chip in, in carrying the burdens that come with civilization. Or more accurately, the responsibilities of maintaining civilization. We all benefit from it too, of course, and much of what you saw was either blatant benefits, or just utilitarian tools in making daily life a little bit easier.”
Thalmin blinked at that, gesturing at the ZNK-19. “That was somehow an attempt to make life easier?!”
“Well… it makes things more seamless. Especially as it pertains to stuff like travel, scheduling, and so on and so forth. It makes things relevant to you, that much more obvious. It gives you all the information necessary to plan your days around, and then some. Beyond that, there’s also the added benefit of having both the compendium of all human knowledge, current events, and the infosphere and extranet at your fingertips.”
I’d lost the prince right about at the last sentence, the man resorting to staring blankly, whilst Thacea’s eagle eyes narrowed even further until they were only pinpricks.
“Erm, I shouldn’t get into it right now, but suffice it to say, our incorporeal world also comprises a sort of… communications network, a perpetually active web of intangible streams of information communicated over our infrastructure, creating this sort of…”
“Webway.” Thacea offered.
“Yeah, something like that, like a web of lines of communication, coalescing into this constantly active hive of live data that anyone can access.”
“What purpose would having a webway for the masses serve—”
“A tool for politics, I’m assuming.” Thacea interjected once more, swerving right into the lupinor prince’s winding and confusing train of thought. “If Emma’s world is what she claims it to be, then the only means by which the masses can rule themselves without a single or consolidated group of individuals becoming disproportionately powerful, is by a sort of… democratization of not just the legal mechanism of politics, but its dissemination within socio-cultural lines as well.”
I blinked rapidly at that, my mouth hanging slightly agape at the princess’ rationalizations.
“That’s a huge part of it, actually.” I nodded rapidly. “Free flow of information is the only safeguard against tyranny, High Commissioner Pravin Lal.” I promptly quoted. “Our modern democratic institutions were molded and reformed with transparency for the masses in mind. Discourses in all levels of the legislature are open to public scrutiny, and even those hidden for security concerns, have statutes on just how long they’re able to be hidden away. Scrutiny by the masses is made possible by our hyperconnected world, so much so that It’s often said that there are three auditing institutions a politician has to be wary of. The first being the judicial review council, the second being the office of the first speaker, and the third being the high court of public review — the prying eyes of a billion participants active in the infosphere at any given point in time.”
Silence once more descended on the trio, with Thacea’s eyes closing down tightly, as if in deep thought following that.
Thalmin, meanwhile, had barely shifted in his expression, remaining in that sort of flabbergasted look of disbelief as if still processing it all.
It would be Ilunor however who eventually broke the silence, with a simple, understandable rebuttal.
“Madness.” He scolded. “A system doomed to either collapse or a paralysis of indecision.”
“There were times that happened, I admit.” I acknowledged. “The first intrasolar war, to be precise, but that’s why reforms happened and… well, that’s a story for another day.” I laughed it off awkwardly, before Thacea finally opened her eyes, staring at me with a sort of wariness I’d become accustomed to by now.
“These are solutions to a problem that didn’t need to exist, earthrealmer.” Ilunor surmised. “Such complications arise as a result of a resistance against what should be self-evident — the natural inclination for chaos without strong rulers. This is why royalty, nobility, and the aristocracy are needed. You waste so much in propping up something which should not exist, whilst we—”
“Can’t even provide decent quality of life improvements to your masses.” I countered. “There’s the underlying difference between our two mindsets, Ilunor. We measure our success based on how well we treat and how best we can elevate the quality of life of our bottom line. Meanwhile, you measure the success of individual nobles based on magical power and the accumulation of wealth, power, and titles.”
We were just about ready to butt heads yet again, if not for Thacea promptly stepping in between us, placing both hands to separate our growing feud.
“Emma.” She began sternly. “Isn’t there more you wish for us to aid you with, in regards to your… artifice’s machinations?”
“Oh, yeah, I was hoping to get some readings on some basic spells and magic. As well as like, a basic rundown of the types of mana just to calibrate the wand and—”
[Notice: General equipment calibration in process… User interface prototype in queue… Additional data gathering will result in a decrease of processing efficiency and reserve processing capacity. Suggestion: Delay additional data gathering until further notice.]
“... maybe that can wait.” I quickly added. “We’re burning daylight, and I think I wanna get some sparring done with Thalmin before we get back into the thick of things with the wand.” I offered, garnering a nod from the princess and a disgruntled shrug from Ilunor.
=====
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. En Route to the Hall of Champions. Local Time: 1535 Hours.
Emma
I took the EVI’s pleas for leniency as an opportunity to finally take on Thalmin’s offer, as we both left for the Hall of Champions, leaving a visibly upset Ilunor to mope at the heels of an increasingly contemplative Thacea.
While excited by both prospects, the thought of filling out additional paperwork in the form of annexes, addenda, and appendices when it came to the more technical projects sent shivers down my spine.
Though ironically, perhaps one of the largest sections to be filled in this week’s action report wasn’t about the WAID, but something that had yet to transpire — the GUN’s first true joint military exercise with a truly foreign polity.
A paradigm first in all but pomp and circumstance.
A paradox was quickly forming. Wherein a lot was happening in my mind without much, if anything, truly precipitating into words, let alone actions.
Words and ideas passed me by as quickly as new thoughts came in to replace them, creating this constant buffering where I had too much to say, without anything being said at all.
Excitement, anticipation, and giddiness all clouded my mind, as I struggled to really approach what was quickly coming to be.
The sheer number of implications that this carried with it would’ve required a hundred committees to parse… before inevitably collapsing, re-forming, and then collapsing again all in the span of months.
And here I was, tackling it alone.
Yet at the same time, I couldn’t get past the understanding of what this truly was — a friendly matchup, and nothing more.
This wasn’t something grand, epic, or truly reality-defining.
Instead, it felt like a natural evolution, another step in the path towards forging stronger bonds between two comrades in arms.
It was probably this functional disconnect between what was technically happening, versus what was actually happening that was messing with me.
And at the end of the day… I was probably just overthinking things again.
But I couldn’t help it, especially given how the soldier in me often butted heads with the diplomat I was also meant to embody.
This stray thought eventually gave rise to an opening talking point that was very much needed.
“So… how do you do it, Thalmin? How do you handle being so many things at once?”
“I’m sorry?” The prince responded, cocking his head as he did so.
“As in, how do you handle your disparate responsibilities? From what we’ve discussed, you are as deep into the military pipeline as you are a royal. How the heck do you balance state administration, international diplomacy, and your martial responsibilities?”
“Ah, so the pressures have finally gotten to you, haven’t they?” The lupinor chuckled, crossing his arms as he did so.
“It probably should’ve gotten me ages ago, but I guess the constant highs have either started to wear off… or… my brain chemistry has probably adapted to being swamped in adrenaline 24/7. Either way, the effect remains the same. I kinda want to know how you manage to deal with it.”
The prince chuckled cockily at that response, crossing his arms in a show of personal pride. “Breeding, heritage, lineage, and blood, Cadet Emma Booker.” Thalmin spoke uncharacteristically, sporting a smarmy grin that eventually broke out into an uproarious laugh. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He managed out in between breaths. “But tell me, how was my Ilunor impression?”
The flurry of emotions that rushed through me in the span of a few seconds was both confusing and cathartic, leaving me with little option but to catch the lupinor’s contagious laugh, letting out a series of cackles in the process.
“Good, perhaps too good if you ask me.” I let out through a relieved sigh. “Honestly, if our deluxe kobold carried himself with just half your stoicism, then he’d probably be a lot more menacing than he is.”
“Well, consider me flattered, Emma.” The prince acknowledged with a dip of his head. “But in all seriousness, I will say that it’s quite impressive how well you’ve held your own Emma. Especially for a commoner. To be quite frank, the way you carry yourself and the decisions you’ve consistently made has pushed me so far as to have completely forgotten that aspect of your identity.” He offered, before promptly adding with a sheepish smile. “And I mean that as a compliment. I hold nothing but respect for your achievements as an individual, not in spite of or because of your supposed status.”
“Right.” I acknowledged with a nod, prompting the lupinor to quickly shift his tone.
“But to address your question, Emma? I’ll need to preface this by saying that I’m quite possibly the least conventional royal to ask for advice. Havenbrock and its royal family is, after all… quite unconventional, if you haven’t already noticed.”
“That does seem to be the general consensus, not that I agree it's warranted.” I replied diplomatically.
“Indeed, but in any case, how I personally manage the handling of so many disparate responsibilities is simple — exposure. Exposure and experience are the keys to tempering the panic and nervousness that comes with encountering unforeseen circumstances. This is the fundamental principle that both my father and uncle have raised me by, and the one I credit for my continued survival.” He paused as we reached one of the many twists and turns between the dorms and the stadium. “The life of a royal, at least a Havenbrockian royal, isn’t about glitz, glamor, or stately decorum. It is moreso centered around the literal fight for survival, which in turn, makes almost everything else seem superficial by comparison.”
Thalmin eventually capped that off with another snarky smile. “I told you this wouldn’t be the answer you were looking for.”
“No, no. That… honestly aligns pretty well with something my Aunt said a while back, honestly. Especially the whole perspective shift thing about having been in life and death situations, and seeing everything else after that point as being kinda… trivial, so to speak.”
This prompted Thalmin to raise a brow, just as we were finally about to leave the towers. “I take it your Aunt is also in some form of military service?”
“Yeah, she was, for a pretty long while too.” I answered frankly.
“Might I ask what her responsibilities were? What role she played in your armed forces?”
“She served in our version of, well…” I paused, trying my best to actually explain the whole mission statement of the Terrestrial and Space Expeditionary Corps to Thalmin. “... a form of elite rapid response strike, recon, and pathfinding group trained for any environment, from space, to any realms floating within it, to traditional surface operations.”
The lupinor paused, pondering this for a moment with wide eyes. “So… does your Aunt ride those firespears of yours into combat?”
“Well… sort of, like I said before, the ancient firespears I showed you are a thousand years behind me, so she’s—”
“So I was right.” Thalmin whispered under his breath, fist bumping the air in the process.
“I’m… sorry?”
“I had theorized, internally, that those firespears could be used to deploy not just people to the void and other realms, but could likewise be repurposed for the deployment of soldiers to any point within a realm. A sort of void marines, or perhaps even a void diver of sorts.”
I paused, blinking rapidly at the excitable lupinor who I could only smile nervously at.
“I mean… you aren’t too far off in your assumptions, Thalmin. Our firespears, even in that era, were also weaponized.” I admitted. “I just didn’t have time to include that in our presentation since actually explaining the void was much more of a priority.” I trailed off, garnering a narrowing gaze from the lupinor.
“Understandable. However, I would like a glimpse at such weapons in the future, if that is at all possible.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll… put that on the roster of things to demonstrate when we get to it.” I offered nervously, prompting an equally suspicious nod before the lupinor moved onto another topic entirely.
“Forgive me if this is intrusive to ask, but I take it since your Aunt has served, that you’re perhaps from a lineage of warriors of sorts?” The lupinor pondered, raising a hand to rub the bottom of his snout.
“I mean, it’s somewhat of a tradition, one that members of my Aunt’s side of the family tends to take on sporadically. But it isn’t enforced or anything if that’s what you’re assuming.”
“I see.” Thalmin nodded. “You will have to tell me more about your Aunt in the future, Emma, as well as her exploits as this… void diver of sorts. Provided, of course, that she’s seen active service.”
“Oh, she definitely has.” I chuckled cockily. “If anything, she’s quite literally the most well decorated veteran in living memory. Considering she’s participated in practically every major engagement in a flashpoint conflict in one of our realms. The one and only conflict to have erupted in our otherwise 3 centuries of uninterrupted peace.”
Thalmin raised an excited brow at that, a fangy grin forming soon after. “I can start to see why your people chose you to be their candidate, Emma.”
=====
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Liring’s Training Stadium. Local Time: 1557 Hours.
Emma
We arrived at the Hall to an audience of one.
A certain felinor who, after much convincing, approved us for a private booking of one of the smaller halls to the side of the main stadium.
However, her reluctance to approve us at first stemmed less from our intent to spar, but a more pertinent issue still fresh in her mind.
“And you are certain that you have fully healed, Cadet Emma—”
I addressed the professor’s concerns with a swift movement of my pinkie, bending it to within natural limits, before reaching it out to her much to her surprise. “I pinkie promise it, professor.”
The bewildered professor paused for a moment, before simply going with the flow and completing the foreign gesture.
“Is this the work of some miracle panacea, or the work of your natural regeneration abilities, Cadet Emma Booker?” She pointedly asked.
“A little bit of column A and a little bit of column B I suppose.” I answered coyly, causing the felinor to simply let out a sigh, before donning a polite smile, one which was barely able to hide the burning curiosity behind those slitted pupils.
“Very well. I won’t take much more of your time, Cadet Booker, Prince Havenbrock.” She turned to face Thalmin for a moment, dipping her head slightly in respect. “If you need me, I will be in the stadium’s offices.”
With that, the professor quite literally leaped away, disappearing into the rafters to the tune of a mana radiation warning, and the whirring of the calibrating WAID.
Thalmin wasted no time in speed walking us to the smaller training stadium, opening those two sliding dark oak doors to reveal what was by all measures a cross between one of those traditional dojos and a high school basketball court.
The vibes and general aesthetic definitely fit the former, what with the heavy use of wood for the floors, pillars, and rafters. However, the presence of bleachers, stands, and magical lighting equipment alongside the wrought iron scaffolding gave it an undeniably ‘modern’ aesthetic that was difficult to ignore.
The space certainly was more appropriate for a one-on-one session though, as the size wasn’t anywhere near as overwhelming as the big open stadium it was connected to.
“I’d be remiss if I did not address a fundamental disconnect between our two peoples, Emma.” Thalmin began, as he strode his way up and through one the bleachers, navigating us through to the center of the gymnasium. “The proverbial wyvern in the room, so to speak.” He continued, as he stopped just about thirty or so feet away from me, deploying what was probably the largest privacy screen I’d experienced so far. “A tool, nay — a weapon — that grants commoners the ability to kill from a hundred paces.” The lupinor stopped, gesturing at the distance between us. “Bridging the martial gap, in a way that only mages and the gifted can. Without once making use of magic, neither inherent nor enchanted.” He finished his statement, raising his right hand and forming a simplistic rendition of a pistol with his thumb and index finger.
“The martial gap?” I parroted, unclasping my holster in the process.
“Aye, that which separates commoners from nobles, a fundamental crux rendering their attempts at harm completely null and void — distance.” The prince elaborated, taking the time to walk circles around me with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “A noble’s repertoire of offensive capabilities is only as limited as their imagination, most if not all of which allow for kills to be made over distances. A chosen one’s repertoire, whilst vastly more limited, can be honed to do a fraction of the same. Whilst those in service to a lord’s armies may be gifted with weapons enchanted to bridge said distances.”
The prince paused, halting his walk as he did so. “All roads to power, both soft and hard, can be traced to magic and those that wield it. For those without, their fates are sealed — sidelined to irrelevance by virtue of their ineffectualness.”
He let out a sigh, raising both arms out to his sides. “For even if a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand commoners were to march towards a castle’s walls… they would be burned, drowned, subsumed, or imploded before once setting their eyes on their intended adversary.”
“And even those gifted with enchanted weapons all rely on mages themselves to fuel them, repair them, and create more of them.” I reasoned, crossing my arms and letting out a sigh as I did so.
“Precisely. Which is what I wished to address next — that the martial gap goes beyond distance, but is a term applied to the inherent gap that naturally arises as a result of this status quo.”
I exhaled sharply at that. As despite Thalmin simply reinforcing what I’d already worked out, it was another thing entirely to have the concept named and explained so blatantly.
“Your kind, despite lacking magic, have created a weapon capable of breaching that gap. Not just physically, mind you, but in every sense of the word.” Thalmin continued, his features stiffening if only for a moment, as it was clear something was currently spooling up behind those yellow eyes.
“Now tell me, exactly what did your training entail?” He transitioned abruptly, as if trying to steer away from a subject matter that was bound to crop up eventually.
“Well… my training wasn’t exactly what you’d call typical.” I began awkwardly. “For starters, I was run through a weird combo of Basic Combat Training and Advanced Individual Training tailored just for this mission, while also taking class hours for stuff typically reserved for Officer Candidate School. BCT typically takes six months, followed by anywhere from six months to a year for AIT, but—”
“I meant the actual contents of your training, Emma.” Thalmin interjected, letting out a frustrated sigh as he did so.
“Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, so, most of it was accelerated BCT. So stuff like physical training, small arms weapons instruction and drilling—”
“Small arms?” Thalmin quickly interrupted.
“Oh, right, so, as you might expect, we have a lot of weapons types that have spawned over the years.” I pulled out my gun for emphasis. “The sheer variety of weapons required an equally diverse classification system in order to categorize them as a result. With small arms eventually coming to encompass any individual-use firearm that does not require the use of partially powered or fully powered exoskeletons to function to their fullest capability.”
Thalmin blinked rapidly, before once more narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“You mentioned exoskeletons.” Thalmin inquired sharply. “A-are you implying your people are in some way… arachnous or insectoid—”
“Oh, nonono. By exoskeletons I basically mean this—” I paused, gesturing at my armor for emphasis. “It’s a complex system of… well… machines, basically. Machines that clamp all around a user in order to bolster and boost their strength by the power of mechanical force!” I beamed. “As such, what I meant was that there are some weapons that work functionally as small arms, but are only ever usable for individuals wearing some form of exoskeleton-assist kits.”
Thalmin’s suspicions didn’t fully subside however, though he seemed to just run with it for the time being.
“And what happens if one uses one of these weapons without the aid of an… exoskeleton?”
“The recoil will dislocate or break your shoulder and or wrist.” I replied bluntly, causing the prince to blink rapidly in response.
“As you can imagine, firing a traditional chem-kinetic weapon comes with the caveat of force being generated. So… the larger the explosion in the gun, the more kickback you’ll expect.” I shrugged.
“I see.” Thalmin responded slowly. “I… assume the next category up from ‘small arms’ to be ‘large’ arms, and perhaps ‘medium’ arms too, yes?”
“Erm…” I paused yet again, reaching for the back of my neck in preparation for the explanation to come. “The next ‘step up’ as it were, is actually light weapons.”
That answer prompted the lupinor to simply stare at me blankly, his mouth curling up in a fit of confusion.
“But we started with small arms—”
“The next step up following light weapons is heavy weapons, if that helps any.” I smiled awkwardly.
“Right.” The prince acknowledged, gripping the bridge of his snout in the process.
“I understand it is my own fault for leading us astray, but I’d rather avoid yet another semantics lesson, so let’s return to our original dialogue.”
“Oh, right, okay. So, yeah, small arms training. I had plenty of that, along with light and heavy weapons training in accordance with my Advanced Power Armored Specialist, or APAS training.” I inhaled deeply, before rattling off the long list of other training programs I went through. “So the next big thing I went through was advanced equipment training because of the power armor, then there was the advanced electronic operation’s training, tactics and strategy training, battlefield drone and recon training, expedited forward operations training, and of course, there was also Close Quarters Combat, or CQC training.”
It was that latter category that prompted Thalmin to perk up, as he finally chose to address me once more.
“And this… close quarters combat, I assume it is a sort of martial art?”
“Sort of.” I nodded. “It incorporates elements of some martial arts, but with a primary focus on getting yourself out of a situation where you’re left unarmed.” I began plainly. “If anything, the first lesson is preventative — trying everything you can not to lose hold of your primary.”
“Your primary being your gun, correct?”
“Yeah. So, there’s a whole list of things such as takedowns and ways of controlling your assailant during an all out brawl, open hand strikes, knee strikes, anything and everything to get them off of you. Really, you’re not gunning to win a boxing or mixed martial arts match, you’re more or less trying to disengage ‘safely’ to the point where backup arrives or where you’re able to regain control of a weapon.”
“This sounds less like a duel and more of a last resort training.” He offered.
“Yeah. Well, the idea is that if you’ve reached a point where you’re left unarmed and fighting, then something’s already gone terribly wrong.”
Thalmin acknowled this with a series of contemplative nods, his hand gripping the bottom of his snout as he did so.
“And… melee weapons?”
“Oh, right, there’s this.” I acknowledged with a nod, and a quick draw of the Mark XIV multipurpose combat and utility knife. “4th generation composalite with a leading monomolecular diamond edge.”
Thalmin stared at the blade with a quirk of his brow, looking not too impressed by, well… everything about it.
However, that expression soon shifted to one of contemplative realization, returning to the very face he’d led this conversation with in the first place.
“So you really have abandoned the notion of melee weapons as a primary offensive tool.” He whispered under his breath, the implications of which prompted him to lock his gaze onto my pistol with increasing intensity.
“Yeah. No offense to you and your arts of course, but in our realm, swords and melee weapons have been obsolete for the better part of a millennium.” I acknowledged frankly. “It’s just… an effective killing tool.” I quickly added. “And in conflicts, that’s kinda what counts, right?”
“Along with the capacity to maintain said weapons of war.” Thalmin reasoned. “Though… if what you stated weeks ago was anything to go by…” He trailed off, allowing me to address that particular point.
“Yeah. I meant what I said in that conversation following the null battle.” I shivered just referencing that, but pushed past that anxiety ridden face off all the same. “There’s enough guns in my realm to arm every human currently living a hundred times over, and that’s not to mention the ammunition…”
“But surely that’s accumulative—”
“It is! But it wouldn’t really take too much to churn them out either. We have the industrial capacity to probably flood the entire surface of a realm in guns if we wanted to.” I paused, before letting out an awkward chuckle, once more reaching the back of my head awkwardly in order to defuse the situattion. “That’s… not a hyperbole, but at the same time, it’s sort of an exaggeration. We wouldn’t ever do that.”
Thalmin’s face reflected the same ghostly visage he’d shown on that day, as he visibly overcame a stutter as he spoke. “But you could.”
“Yeah, we could. But we probably won’t need to.” I attempted to calm the situation down some. “I mean, unless the Nexus really gives us a reason to… but I doubt that’ll ever happen.” I offered sarcastically.
To which Thalmin could only reply with a weary smile.
“So to confirm what you said previously, every soldier in your realm, every man at arms and void marine, every sailor and flyer, all of them—”
“Go through Basic, in which all of them are trained in the art of the gun, yeah.” I intercepted the man with a grin.
Though it was clear his expressions were far less receptive, and more so mortified at the implications that came with this reaffirmation of what I’d only alluded to before.
“So you really have crossed the martial gap, all without once casting a single spell.” He reasoned, before once more narrowing his eyes. “And if your Void Diver Aunt is of any indication, not only have you crossed the gap in weapons, but likewise in conveyances too.”
“Yeah… you have no idea, Thalmin.” I chuckled darkly. “Suffice it to say, engagement distances in modern warfare aren't measured in meters, but in kilometers and then some.”
That comment seemed to cause the man to shudder even moreso. “Snipers engage enemies kilometers out at a time, same for frontline drone operators, and I’m not even going to get into remote—”
“I see, Emma.” Thalmin interjected warily. “I see.” He sighed.
A moment of silence punctuated our little back and forth, before he finally elongated his blade, forming the longsword I’d seen only a few times before.
“But perhaps we shall see how well you fare in the art of the blade, hmm?” He slowly perked up with a smile.
Comments
Michael Dale Vereen
Heh, Void Marines... “They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them, and in the furnace of war I shall forge them. They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armour shall I clad them, and with the mightiest guns shall they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness shall blight them. They shall have tactics, strategies and machines such that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror. They are the Defenders of Humanity. They are my Space Marines… and they shall know no fear.”
windoverwaves
Well, yeah, an HMG aren't just typically carried around by grunts for reasons.
Michael Halpern
It occurs to me that short recoil .50 cal machine gun would probably be considered a LIGHT weapon,
Michael Halpern
Emma got SO close to "needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few"
Ragnar Pendon
I've seen the typo twice now but I'd like to petition JCB to outline a character named "Thalmon", Thalmin's estranged half brother to an aunt that was lost in battle with the original royals they deposed Thalmon is also 10x more flamboyant than Ilunor
UC-79
"Yea, we could literally cover the surface of your realm in a layer of guns" *mortified wolf noises*
astatine
"""Political power grows from the barrel of a gun" - Mao Zedong" - Michael Scott" - Thalmin
