Swamped

John Recordkeeper, trying to salvage some works that were the victims of an unexpected roof leak

You're the prisoner, and you're shitting your pants because your cell is slowly filling with rainwater.

You're Private Burgundy, at least for the next three months. And you're wide awake, because you're still thinking about how goddamned stupid you were today.

You volunteered to spend the night in a cell. No, it wasn't necessary, but damn it, you wanted to be sure you'd learn your lesson. Besides, it seems to have calmed down the actual prisoner here.

Ironically enough, he's standing outside the cell. Not that he can do much - his weapon's been confiscated, and there's a good half-dozen Bogknights waiting out in the hall in case he makes a run for it. But treating him as though he's on guard duty has calmed him down.

He doesn't care much for you. Most Marshguards don't. Quite aside from your personal dealings with them, there's the fact that your father was the last Captain, and he took a much more confrontational approach.

And it's not as if retirement has made him calm down. When you've gone out to visit, he's made no secret of his displeasure at how Long is running things. Gods, how are you going to even tell him you cost a soldier an arm? If he'd still been in charge, he'd have kicked you out of the Bogknights right then and there, family or not. And you can look forward to him telling you exactly that over and over, for years to come.

The worst part is that you agree with him. You should be kicked out. But Long's given you another chance, and you're damn well going to take it.

"You're awfully quiet," the prisoner suddenly says. "That's a shame. I was looking forward to hearing some of your legendary insults."

"Got too much on my mind for that right now," you say with a shrug. "Feel free to toss your sharpest barbs my way, though. I probably deserve 'em."

"Nah, there's no fun in it if you're not going to fight back."

"Fair enough. I'll let you know if I feel up for it later."

You sit back in the bed and think about what to do. Your cell's not locked, since you aren't actually a prisoner; you can leave any time if you want, though new arrangements will have to be made for your "guardsman". On the other hand, perhaps you could stay here and talk to him about something.

Either way, you don't see how you're getting to sleep tonight. Might as well do something with the time.

Ask the Marshguard if they have any suggestions for improving the cell. Aside from making it escapable of course.

Ask the Marshguard if he knows who took Tom Ninth with 'em.

You decide to strike up a conversation.

"So, I got the impression you're not keen on seeing the inside of a cell."

He gives you a glare.

"You ought to know better than to ask a Marshguard about his past."

"Not where I was going. More of, I was wondering what would help to make you comfortable in one. We make it a point to treat our prisoners well here, and if we ever have to bring you in under less adaptable circumstances, well, it would be good to know what we can do for you."

"How about not locking the damn door," he sneers. "No, but seriously. That cell's cramped. You've got loads of rooms in this place, can't you just put locks on a few, give us a real place to say? The Marsh Fortress may not be the friendliest place, but I'll give it this - it ain't cramped."

"You're claustrophobic, is that it?"

"I need space to stretch my legs. Well, I mean, not literally, but I do enough standin' around at the lookout posts. I walk whenever I get a chance, y'see."

"Fair enough. I'll ask the Captain to look into it." That offer might have carried more weight before today, but then, even privates can make suggestions.

"Look into it. Yeah, I'm sure. Can't wait to get caught again." He sneers, and that seems to be the end of that line of conversation.

You can't help but be curious about something, though.

"So, I was wondering. It hardly matters now, since he's back, but we had a man captured the other day. Would you happen to know anything about just which of you Marshguards took him?"

"Why, so you can break their knees? Look, you lot get to leave the swamp once in a while, see your families. We don't. The fortress and the other Marshguards, they're all we have left in this life. So we don't pry into their business, and we don't sell them out."

Well, that line of questioning seems to have gone nowhere. He's not the friendliest fellow, but then, you did punch three of his comrades in the nose yesterday.

So what's left for you to do, since sleep still seems out of the question?

Write a diary entry/story?

Listen to the rain

Do a funky dance!

The conversation doesn't seem to be going anywhere, so you turn your attention to other things.

You consider getting up and stretching, but as the Marshguard said, there isn't much room in here. Enough for some simple exercises, but that's about it.

You did bring a notepad and pen, though. You consider writing something, but as soon as you contemplate what it might be, all your thoughts turn to that damn order you gave.

Maybe you should write about it... no, you can't bring yourself to. Not until you feel you've done something to make things right. Sure, you've been demoted and you apologized, but none of that directly helps the poor kid.

But you still can't sleep, so all you can do is listen to the rain falling outside. You can also barely hear the rainspawn growling or chirping or however the hell it is you describe that unnatural sound they make.

You almost wish you were out there. It'd serve you right.

You just keep listening until midnight, when you drift off from sheer exhaustion. You're not even thinking about how hard that's going to make tomorrow's work.

You're John Recordkeeper now. Due to your age and your job, you don't really have to worry about when you get to sleep, though you're still up far later than you expected.

Captain Long has asked you to look through the archives to see if a rain so soon after the annual storm is truly unprecedented. He seemed worried - not that he let it show, but you've been at this long enough that you can tell. So you've been digging through the weather records for the past several hours.

Unfortunately, in the process, you discovered a spot where the roof is leaking, and an entire box of files has been thoroughly soaked. Thankfully, the hole is far too small for any rainspawn to get through... not that you're sure if they can climb up there in the first place.

You've already sent out a call for a repair team, but it's not urgent so they likely won't be in tonight. Really, you're more concerned with trying to figure out just what kind of files were in this box in the first place.

The few words you can make out seem to describe rainspawn, coincidentally, but you can't make out anything that is really helpful

Is there anywhere where you can safely dry the pages? Say an oven or the like?

Historical records, mostly on lands adjacent to the swamp.

Sand or salt might help dry the pages quickly?

From what you can still read, the papers seem to be observations of interest regarding lands near the swamp. You recognize a few outdated phrases that suggest these are quite old.

Strange. Did someone write these up on their way here?

There's also something about "fearsome creatures in the rains", which is clear enough. Well, these might be an interesting read if they can be salvaged, but they don't seem to tell you anything you don't already know. Still, it might shed light on the question the Captain asked about, and even if not, it's worth saving what you can. You make your way to the kitchen to do just that.

Tom First has locked up the salt, which is understandable; it takes a lot of time to get more, and so he only saves it for special occasions. But the oven is free to use, at least if you know how. You put it on a low setting and put some pages in, hoping to dry them off.

Unfortunately, much of the damage has already been done. The good news is, at least you're able to make out the author's signature now, so there's a chance you can find copies of this in the Royal Archives. It's not guaranteed, as this might be from before you started sending out copies of everything, and even if it's from later it might have gotten lost on the way there. But it's an avenue to explore. You'll write up a report for the Captain on it.

You shut off the oven, leave a note for First so he knows what you did, and drag the box back to the archives. Your old bones are tired now, so you decide to continue looking for information on the rain in the morning.

Morning comes. You're Marshall again.

The rain seems to have stopped overnight, but due to your condition, you have no training today and no particular other duties. Medic says you're in good enough shape to walk, at least, so you don't have to spend the whole day in bed.

But what are you going to do with your time?

Mope?
Hm.

Well, if the rain's stopped, we have an important question to answer: Did the chicken survive?

Go visit the new prisoner?

Have a good cry for a bit.

Before you can settle your mind on anything else, you feel yourself breaking down in tears. You lost your arm, and you barely even care that no one told you about the rainspawn. You knew the rain was dangerous and you took your time trying to get a chicken into a tree anyhow. Maybe it's not actually your fault, but it damn well feels like it.

A few minutes later, when you've finally composed yourself, you decide to head outside. Might as well find out if the chicken made it through all that, or if you lost your arm for nothing at all.

On your way out, though, you see a man in a Marshguard uniform standing at the gates, tapping his foot impatiently while the guards work the doors. He must be the prisoner.

"Can't believe it takes this long to open the damn gates," he grumbles. "Hurry it up, I've got to get home."

This strikes you as a stark contrast from the last prisoner you saw on his way to be released.

"No escort?" you ask.

"Eh? You must be new," he says. "Ooh, but by the looks of things you ran into something nasty. Anyhow, prisoners never get an escort after the rain. In fact, aside from repair crews nobody goes on duty outdoors until late afternoon. We just make our way home. Sometimes a fight breaks out if the Bogknight prisoners and Marshguard prisoners run into each other, but we usually try to stay out of each others' way."

You can't help but feel that there's very little fighting going on in what's supposed to be a warzone. Maybe you're just not in much of a position to see it happen.

"But seriously, these gates are taking forever to open! This is ridiculous. Why, what if someone were caught out in the rain? Can you imagine how long they'd have to wait before they could get in?"

You wonder if you should say something to him.

Cough and raise your hand that isn't there anymore.

Ask them about how much they actually fight out here

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You clear your throat conspicuously.

"Oh. Is that what happened? Wait, what were you even doing out there? You're too new, you shouldn't have any assignments far outside the base."

"I know. The officer responsible got punished. I'm trying not to think about it too much."

"Hmmph. Whatever suits you. Really, unfortunate accidents like yours aside, it's almost a blessing the rain came so soon. Before the fighting could really start again."

"I haven't heard about much fighting."

The Marshguard chuckles.

"You will in time. There's always a calm after a storm around here. But I suppose with your disability, you won't be seeing so much of it for yourself."

The gates open, and he walks out. As he does, you see the unpleasant sight of some bloodied feathers, and the unrecognizable corpse of what they probably once belonged to.

You feel a little sick. You don't think you're heading out today after all.

But what can you do instead?

Go to the cafeteria and meet with Tom First, maybe you can get something nice to eat...

Keep reaching for things with your missing arm.

Think about what you might want to do as a Bogknight with only one arm.

Head to the library to investigate possible career paths, maybe.