Swamped

"As interesting as this is, those Marchguards or whatever are in the swamp, and we aren't. The criminals outside are a more pressing concern."

One of the knights is giving you a very unpleasant look. The others seem more or less satisfied, even Burgundy.

"Well, that's what we've been talking about, isn't it?" one of them says, throwing her hands up in the air. "What we do about them. I don't want to miss the damn festival because of this."

"If you don't want to miss the festival, go to sleep," Burgundy grumbles. "They'll probably be gone by the time you wake up. And if they're not, then they're a strong enough force to occupy the whole damn town and that means they're definitely more than our makeshift squad can handle."

"Oh, can it, Burgundy," the woman grumbles. "You're not even a corporal, however much Sergeant Turner might dote on you. I don't see why you should be barking orders like you are."

"I'm not giving orders, I'm giving suggestions," Burgundy replies. "Not to mention, I was in the East Legion for three years before the Bogknights. I think I know a little more about military operations than a haberdasher who ran off to the swamp a year ago because of a voice in her head."

"Don't even start on the call!" she snaps. "You always think it's some kind of joke, that we've dropped our lives to fight in a swamp because we've just gone mad. I wish I'd gone mad. It would have been gentler than trying to fight the damn thing."

So there's some tension here. And Minnie's giving you a look that suggests you ought to try to defuse it.

Easier said than done. They're already wary of your uniform.

On the other hand... You know the call yourself. You don't think it would be helpful to explain that, but it might help you figure out what to say.