Re: Whoever Fights Monsters...
On the dot, Schaeffer arrived with a Militia dog team in tow (2 MPs and canine). He had his battlesuit on with his carbine, but at his side was a cavalry dress sabre. It was of an old style, with tassled pommel and curved hand guard. He pulled it out to check the blade, which was of fine steel with the initials "SMS" engraved on it.
"I needed to get my sword. It belonged to my father, the Colonel... I mean, me. I'm the Colonel. Therefore it's mine. Yah... is good Sollingen steel, been in our family for generations, since the time of Bismark. We were a proud Prussian family then. Of course, not any more..."
He seemed to be babbling as he stared at the sword, and stopped talking with an effort of will. Steadying himself, he sheathed the sword back in its scabbard and put his carbine at low-ready.
"Good to see you again, Brother Edgar. OK, are we ready? Dog team on point checking floor and the front. I will follow checking the ceiling. Then Dakota and Smoker, check left and right. Brother Edgar, you are last, guard the rear."
A memory jolted Dakota from when they parted ways, weeks past, in Amarillo. The Colonel had met some men from his old unit and he wanted to accompany them for a while. But as respectful and fond as they were to him, they kept on calling him "Lieutenant" for some reason and not "Colonel". However, this was a while ago and he wasn't reminded of it until now, if it meant anything.
OOC: Technically, the Colonel's Sabre is a +1 Longsword.