Port Sumac is generally regarded as the stubborn mule of the territories. Governed by the major stakeholders of the fleets of trade ships that trade across the north gulf. Most critically, this would be a protracted effort, working the stakeholders to secure a significant hold on their votes.
Barkstone, on the other hand, is the Guard's latest internal adversary. The Axe Army, mustered from Barkstone by one of the Guard's own: Senior Smith Midnight. The rebellion hit on the heels of the winter war, and spurred Gwendolyn to divide control of the Guard with Teigh. Most critically, Barkstone's mayor is an elected artisan: a potter named Murdoch. Here you would expect some hostility from the general population, and Murdoch has his re-election to consider. They would start from the assumption that this is the Guard punishing them for their involvement in the rebellion.
Pathfinder Fennel is an Orator(3) from Barkstone, her patrol consists of Weather watcher Sweeny, who is also a Boatcrafter(3) and Deceiver(2), and Trubba, the Tenderpaw, who is a promising Hunter.
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Bry looks at Midach flatly. I'm so sorry Midach but it seems once again you have overestimated your own skills and thus put every other healer her beneath you in your own damn hubris.
The younger mouse refused to step down, glaring at Midach. I already recognized the wound and planned on talking to him once he woke up. Yet it seems your own levels of skill have made sure you clearly forgot that some of us are competent enough to notice these things themselves.
Bry took a breath before continuing what he was saying, unwilling to let Midach step away from this. Now I forget about you but I swore to help any mouse in need, instead of letting them sit around and die so you can gloat about how you saw something was wrong with his story. The only thing that should die here is your pride, I do not care how skilled you are. That does not give you the excuse to let any mouse bleed out. You are supposed to be a damned teacher, not someone who decides someone can suffer because their story was false.
Bry shakes his head. If being like you is the cost of skill, I'll stay at my own level and help people. Good bye Midach. I'll be sure to inform Gwendolyn of the inconsistencies and what you were doing as opposed to healing. Oh and I'll talk with this mouse here when he comes to, this way I can be sure you aren't trying to use your skill to do something worse.
Couldn't have been given a choice between cooperwood and shaleburrow, could I? He mutters, more to the world than anyone present I think, all things considered, I am more fit to be our delegate to Port Sumac. I think that the lads and I are fairly well equipped to wrangle the Sumac oligarchs, and Barkstone sounds like it'll have some angry crowds. He leaves unsaid the statement and, we all know that crowds and me will end poorly
okay for Seyth: spear obviously
the treaty
An updated map
Oh dang, but we get to keep our stuff from before, right? And we get things like the map?
Barton readied his gear, shined his sword and said goodbye to Mitzi.
Then he made his way to the entrance of Lockhaven to wait for the rest of his patrol.
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If I don't make it back, you mind telling them I died in a fight with a nest of adders or something, rather than an aneurysm while in a trade negotiation with the most stubborn mice in the territories? He tells Kent before setting off
Primary Goal: Help everyone get to Port Sumac safely
It should not have been this hard. Between Seyth's experience, the map, and the fact that the road was already being cleared, one would think that Seyth could lead the Patrol through the brush without incident. There is a crossroads between your path and the path between Wildseed and Ironwood, and Seyth has been pushing forward in the hopes that you'd reach some indication of a path.
In fact, the patrol had veered quite dramatically off course very early on when a large pile of fallen timber seemed to block the old road, and an evident side road had been cut down into a tunnel under an oak. Everything since then has been a cunning bit of misdirection. Now, the patrol stands at a dead end consisting of a muddy pit at the bottom of a steep bluff with roots dangling out of the soft dirt. Seyth had sent the two tenderpaws scrambling up the roots to scout out their location. As he's helping Bry climb, Barton spies a mouse with a bow taking position at the top of the bluff, and he pulls Bry into cover.
"You blundering bunch of beetles. Twice in one week?" Daye stands behind Seyth, a mouse at each shoulder. "Where's your sodding barker, Seyth? Gwen take away your toy? I'm glad you got rid of it- bad for retention." She points out her dwindled handful of bandits with her poignard. "Don't they have you on daycare duty? Where's your runt?"
Bry stays hidden, listening to whats going on. Dammit. If only I could fight
He looks to Seyth. Should I mention we have one of her mice, and that the poor injured fool is currently in the hands of someone less caring than me?
I whisper to Bry. Stay out of sight. We’re in danger but I can help. We’ll need you to tend to any wounds, so stay safe.
Barton scurries along the rocks, trying to get behind the archer.
When he’s behind the archer he strikes him hard with the handle of his sword, to knock him out but not kill.
I came alone, Daye. I came for you, Figured if I stepped on enough twigs and rustled enough leaves, you'd arrive. Took you long enough too.
The archer is being duly cautious, but Barton crosses the intervening space like a shadow. Bry doesn't even notice the senior tenderpaw has left cover until he's on top of the archer.
There's a light thump as the pommel of Barton's sword connects with the archer's skull, and Barton catches them by the arm and pulls them back from the edge of the bluff.
Barton snatched the bow and trains an arrow on Daye...but he waits to see how Seyth’s standoff goes before making a move.
Daye delivers a cartoonish impersonation of Seyth. "'Chaseing after personal vendettas is an abuse of power.' Nah, grayfur, you've got somethin' goin'. You forget I know you too well." Daye cups her paw and shouts out into the brush around the bluff. "" She levels her rapier in Seyth's direction.
Barton can see from his vantage that she does not, in fact, have any other archers.
It occurs to Bry that Daye does not expect two tenderpaws being assigned to one Patrol Leader since he was told he would be the first.
Bry smiles as thoughts rage in his mind. Barton disapeered only to strike out against her archer, and possibly could be doing more.
Seyth’s gambit clearly failed, Barton decided to show Daye just how many mice he could put down before she pokes a hole in Seyth.
Starting with her.
As arrows start flying, Seth dives for cover, lashing out with his spear toward dayes stomach. If they intended to make an attempt on his life, he would return her favour.
Bry ducks out from cover and sticks his tongue out at Daye seeing that people are going for combat.
I'm over here you glorified windbag!
Daye turns to look up at Bry. When she takes in a breath to shout, Barton's first pine needle glances off of her cuirass and buries itself in the neck of the mouse on her left. She turns, instinctively, and Seyth dives inside her guard, grabbing her sword arm by the wrist.
A second needle catches the right bandit in the shoulder, and their axe plunks wetly into the soft mud. The left bandit sinks to their knees, blood soaking their shoulder. Daye twists, spinning Seyth, but the mud hampers her deft movements, and she jumps when another needle plinks against her cuirass. Roaring with exertion and rage, she jabs at Seyth with the poingard, and the two shuffle paws. She's disarmed, but he's left between her and Barton.
"Call off your killer, Seyth!" More than sincere, she sounds afraid. It was one thing to threaten injury and risk arrest. She wasn't expecting anyone to lose their life. Dealing with the Guard, the assumption was safe. Whether Barton had intended any fatal shots, only he knows. He's not so great a Fighter that he couldn't have missed.
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Seyth calls out Good work, lad. to Barton (or perhaps bry, if he had developed the stomach for violence.)
I have a medic with me, surrender, and He'll do what he can for your mice. otherwise, I'll let them bleed out and give you a summary execution for desertion and treason. he tells her.
Barton stood up and waved down to the assembled. I have one more WOUNDED here. He stressed wounded so that it was clear that he wasn't a killer, at least not intentionally.
If Daye was why Seyth was so hard on Barton, Barton needed to show Seyth he was everything she wasn't.
Despite the shock of violence, Bry recognizes that the mouse pinned in the throat is not dead, but they will be if something drastic isn't done soon. They have seconds. Bry won't have time to climb down carefully.
Barton flips down to the injured mouse. He wants to help anyway he can.
Bry arrives, and proceeds to try and save the bandit. Part of him knows it is too much for him, but he refuses to let that stop him.
Barton quit screwing around. I need you!
If the test is against his Nature and successful, Nature is temporarily reduced by 1. If the test is failed, whether it was with or against Nature, Nature is temporarily reduced by the margin of failure. We call this tax.
Nature can be recovered in three ways: during the winter session, by delivering a prologue or returning from an absence.
If your Nature is taxed, instead of waiting to recover, you can choose to reduce your current maximum rating. When you reduce your current rank by one, restore one point of tax.
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Bry glares at the senior tenderpaw. Dammit Barton get over here now! I'm losing him!
Bry returns his focus to the mostly dead mouse. He knows it would be better to run and hide. He didn't know if this Daye would listen to Seyth or not.He could be shot down by bows, unable to help anyone. He wanted to run. Yet as he looked at the mouse he realized he couldn't. He channeled his desire to run into focusing on the bandit.
You will not die on me, do you understand?! he shouts, realizing he is only drawing more attention to himself. I won't let you die for any reason.
Bry's hands tremble as he continues to procedure, realizing that without Midach's skill this could be next to impossible. The young mouse refused to stop, throwing aside everything his instincts were telling him and narrowing his focus on to this one mouse.
Barton hops from the bluff, reaching for the roots as he falls, but the roots snap and come away from the ground causing Barton to flip head over heels before plopping face-first into the mud. He's not injured, but he'll feel that in the morning. Until he sleeps in a proper bed, he'll be Tired.
Daye raises her paws in surrender.
Minutes pass, and with the wound packed, the dying bandit stabilizes.
When Barton finally made it down, he saw the hurt mouse was still breathing, no thanks to him. He embraced Bry. Thank you he choked out. I didn’t want to hurt anyone...
He helped Bry safely move the bandit and rejoined the group. After being sure Seyth was ok, he asked We’ll drop them off with the road crew, right? We have a job to do.
Yeah, to the road crews. we've got pressing matters. Seyth says. unless the lads object, they will continue on to Darkwater
It's one of Charli's unsavory taskmasters to which the Patrol remits Daye and her three bandits. Labor gets the lion's share of petitioners. It's a composite of mice with no skill to speak of and mice with pride above their station, and while Charli herself is a perfectly amenable senior artisan, the truth is that her taskmasters are chosen for their cruelty. "We'll keep 'em wit' the others." Is all you're told as the taskmaster twists his whip in his hands.
After another day of travel, the Patrol reaches Darkwater, the largest trade port in the territories, spilling over it's own marina with spring activity. This is not a settlement like Elmoss or Sprucetuck to hide themselves in trees. Darkwater juts up out of the water on stilts with burrows constructed out of split wood planks and strung together by raised roads. Brightly colored awnings hang from every building with rough illustrations of various wares. The very concept of being so... conspicuous burns deep-seated anxieties Seyth and Bry still share despite Bry's recent behavior. Seyth knows, however, that local predators know better than to chance an encounter with any of the port settlements.
Most of the docks are filled to capacity with ships of every shape and size. A few are the familiar leafboats Bry or Barton may have seen before: leaves glued together with resin and pulled taut over a frame of sticks, but most are entirely built from wood. If houses are strange, wooden ships look downright ludicrous, teetering precariously on the water, huge leaf and cloth sails like clouds decorating the sky.
Two fishers sit in the forked central dock with an enormous bass suspended between them. Teams of mice scale the creature, flaying it down to its carcass piece by piece. A banner strung between the lookout posts announces a feast being held tonight. If Bry or Barton have never tried fish, this would be the definitive chance. Meat is no mystery to mice. Although most of the territories subsist on grain and the occasional bug, fish and even mammal meat is served as an extreme delicacy. Most of this bass will be dried and shipped out to fill the celebratory hordes of wealthy mice across the territories to be paired with cheese and wine. Seyth, having the hunter experience to know such things, can only wonder how many mice were lost to dredge up the leviathan.
When the Patrol reaches the forward lookout, they find a small stand with three mice. One is a guardmouse in a dark blue cloak who cheerfully hails Seyth. Standing next to him is a local guard. Barton has encountered cities with organized local guards before. They're generally frowned upon by The Guard, as it's these militia forces that were recruited from to create the rebel army. The third mouse is a moneychanger, buried in stiff, neatly stacked leaves. Rather than have each merchant deal in money conversions, this stand exists to exchange coin for notes. This mouse also grants licences to fish, ferry, and barter, among other things. It seems Darkwater is a place of strict bureaucratic rules, and with reason. It stands as the interchange between the authority of the Guard and the authority of Port Sumac.