Swamped

You look around, and spot a log on the farther side of the hill. Too far to get caught in the explosion, it seems. With a little effort, you manage to drag it along to the other side.

Then you toss a twig into the water as hard as you can. The beast rushes towards the ripples, desperate for something to take its anger out on, and you'd rather it not be the log. You shove the log in carefully, tossing more twigs in when you need a diversion. The rest of the group throws things as well, and you eventually get the log into the water.

"You expect that to work?" Alexander calls out.

"The beast doesn't see too well in the muck," you call back. "It detects its prey through motion. If you don't move the log too much, you'll be fine."

He looks skeptical, but resigned.

"All right then. Bogknights - I shouldn't have to say this, but don't start any fights, understood? We need to know what happened, and we're not going to have much of a chance if a brawl breaks out."

"That goes for my squad, too," you call back. "Any of you pulls any stunts, you'll answer to me."

With the orders issued, Alexander carefully makes his way along the log, trying not to disturb it too much. It takes him a good ten minutes to cross, but the log holds steady.

"Not looking forward to getting back," he grumbles. "Well, let's see what we can find."

You're already walking over to the site of the explosion. It's easy to identify, thanks to the charred grass. At a glance, you can't see anything there except a pile of blackened powder.

"Well, let's see," you mutter. "No obvious sign of any armor, or human remains."

"There's no way that explosion could have blown them clear. It didn't have nearly that much force, and we would have heard a splash if either landed in the water."

"Agreed. And it didn't have the force to turn them straight to ash, either."

"Especially as the Captain was in my armor. It would have held up for a good while if it caught fire. This doesn't make any sense. They couldn't have just vanished into thin air..."

You take a closer look at the powder on the ground. Most of it is just cinders from the grass, but there's something lighter in color.

You pick up a handful and try to sort out what's charred grass and what isn't. And that's when it hits you. You know what this is, and you have a good guess as to what it means. You turn to Alexander and show it to him.

"What is it?" he asks.

"This is sand."

---

You're now John Recordkeeper, and you're not in the best of moods. You've been woken up because the Captain disappeared, after knocking out Sergeant Ash, and Vera was incapacitated while training two recruits on watch duty.

So, as the oldest officer on the base, you've been tasked with managing this emergency meeting to work out who's in charge. And there aren't really any good options. You're left with support officers, such as yourself, who lack experience with either combat or tactics; the corporals, who typically wouldn't be given command over a sergeant; and while you have four sergeants to choose from, they're the most inexperienced ones. The longest-serving one was only promoted four years ago.

Everyone else seems to be waiting for someone to make the first recommendation. This obviously won't do, so you'll have to be the one to step forward. Who will you suggest as acting commander?

Pick the shortest one in the corner, Sergeant Roxley, Professional Rookie.

Burgundy, duh.

There's still a group that supports Ash as commander, however. They've grown suspicious of Long's passive tactics and Ash has impressed them during his rise in the ranks.

Suggest that you dont have any leadership and instead follow the decicion of a sloth that predicted the last four rains.

If you're going for prophecy, read the swamprat cards

You decide that there's no sense in avoiding the central matter at hand. Everyone's thinking about it.

"Before we can go any further, there is an obvious fact that we've been dancing around this whole time. Private Burgundy has more command experience than anyone in this room."

"But she's been stripped of rank," Sergeant Roxley protests. "What kind of message does that send? If you're an officer and a cadet loses an arm thanks to your careless order, that's no big deal?"

"She seems to be handling matters well enough for now," Eve interjects. "I don't see why we can't let that stand until Captain Long gets back."

"If he makes it back," Sergeant Dominic says. "He's going after Rider, we have to be prepared for the possibility that he doesn't return. Not to mention the Captain isn't without his own discipline problems."

"Well then," you say. "Here is my suggestion. We leave Burgundy in command for now. Should the Captain return, we will question him about his behavior. Should he fail to return, or we find him unfit to command, we will select a new leader. At that time, we can review Burgundy's decisions during our current crisis. We can just handle matters one at a time."

"Not good enough for me," Roxley says, shaking her head. "I can handle having Burgundy in charge for now. But sooner or later, either Greenwoods or Ash will wake up. It doesn't make sense to keep Burgundy in temporary command when we've got a senior sergeant who hasn't been demoted."

"And I say it should be Ash," Dominic chimes in. "Just look at the defenses he's set up in just one night of command. Why, a few hours ago, I would have doubted we could handle another ambush at all."

"Very well, then," you sigh. "We have two motions. First, motion to allow Burgundy command until Captain Long returns or our longer-term choice for acting commander is alert."

"Aye," everyone says, except John Medic, who recuses himself from the vote for personal reasons.

"Carried. And the next vote will be on who replaces Captain Long should it be deemed necessary. Does anyone want to suggest someone other than Sergeants Ash or Greenwoods?"

Everyone shakes their heads.

"Well, then. All for Greenwoods? Aye from me."

John Medic, Tom First, and Eve all vote aye as well.

"And for Ash?"

Here, there's a resounding vote of Aye from the four sergeants.

"That's four for Greenwood, and four for Ash," you mutter. "Hang on a minute. There were supposed to be nine here..."

You glance around the table and realize who's missing.

"Where's the Postmaster?"

in the bathroom, sneaking a drink

Making heads or tails of a weird letter

and sending back an even more cryptic reply.

We've got owls in the roost

Before you can answer, Penelope bursts into the room.

"Postmaster's busy with something at the Roost," she says apologetically. "Handed me this letter, said it was important. Er, envelope says it's from the Marshguard base, I haven't looked at it of course..."

You thank her and take the letter from her.

"Busy! At a time like this," you grumble. "I suppose there's nothing for it but to go and fetch him myself."

"What about the letter?" John Medic asks. "If it's that important, we can wait for it before concluding the vote."

"Right. Let's see..." You open the letter.

The crow flies low tonight. Our prayers didn't work out. Hope yours go better.

"Well, this doesn't make any sense," you grumble.

"It's from the Marshguards. Could have been a warning about the attack tonight," Tom First says. "You know they don't all want to fight us, at least not on that scale."

"Doesn't do us a lot of good now, does it?" Sergeant Dominic says. "And if it's something else, I don't know who could tell us. The Captain, maybe, but he's not here."

"Burgundy might know," Eve says. "We ought to tell her she's staying in charge for a while, anyhow. I'll get the letter to her, then I'll take over for John. The night's supposed to be my time, after all."

"Yeah, that greatrat infestation threw us all off our schedules," John Medic agrees. "And a Marshguard attack the night after! I don't dare imagine what could be next."

"I'll go see what the Postmaster is doing," you sigh. "And then I'll tell him about the vote. The decision's fallen on him now, so we'd best get it settled. Meeting adjourned!"

You all head out and go your separate ways. In your case, you head to the Roost. The ladder's not easy on your old bones, so you decide to call him down here first.

"Postmaster!" you shout. "What are you doing?"

You don't hear an answer. Best climb up, then. At least you've kept in shape. You make your way to up the ladder.

And you're quickly blinded by a pile of feathers.

"Who's there?" the Postmaster calls out, though you can barely hear him over the squawks and hoots. No wonder he didn't respond.

"It's John Recordkeeper!" you cry out, when you shove something out of your face. "What's going on here?"

"Flock of owls. The crows we've got here are safely caged, but the ones that are out already are in trouble."

"Owls! I've never in all my years heard of owls in the swamp. Why haven't you called pest control?"

"I've had my hands full!" A broom sweeps your way, clearing out the owls enough for you to see the Postmaster. "Haven't been able to think straight. Anyways, chasing them out's no good, they might catch the inbound crows and who knows what messages we might lose. Right now my plan's just to lock up crows as they arrive, and keep this mess as under control as I can."

"So I suppose you don't have time to cast a vote on who should be acting commander if necessary."

"Not really! Unless one of the candidates has a plan for dealing with these owls. That would go a long way towards getting my vote."

"I'll go down and fetch pest control," you sigh. "If I can find the blasted ladder again."

"Wouldn't recommend climbing down in this mess. You're better off... hmm? I think I hear a crow."

You have no idea how he can hear a single crow in this cacophony.

"It's the Marshguard crow. I sent it back with a quick 'message received' note, guess we've got another one from them. Well, I don't want to leave this one locked up, in case they try to send us a message about prisoners or the like."

"Yes, that's fair," you mutter. You can't even see the crow; you can barely see the Postmaster's boots, even after he cleared a path for you. You just have to take his word for everything.

"Huh! This is a message for Dean. He's on pest control, isn't he? I'll write a quick note on it telling him to come up here, then toss it down the ladder. Oh, but I'd better send this girl back to the Marshguards. She's had a busy night, but there's not much else for it."

You feel like you're not really accomplishing much here. But, as the Postmaster says, you don't think you can make it down the ladder easily while this flock is crowding around.

So just what are you to do while you're up here?

record-keep some letters!

"I don't suppose you've got another broom?"

"Nope. Just the one. I bet pest control will have something better, though."

You let out a sigh.

"Then get me over to the mail records. If I'm stuck here, I may as well get some work done." You swat an owl away. "Or try to, anyhow."

"Right, it's been a while since I sent you a report, hasn't it? The owls are most interested in the crows anyway, they'll probably leave you alone if you stay still. Just don't use a feather pen."

He clears a path over to his desk, and holds out the chair for you. You sit down before an owl decides to take a seat.

"Records are in the bottom drawer. I'll unlock it for you."

He does, and you start sorting through. Ugh, it's been nearly a year since his last report, hasn't it? There's a large pile of these to check.

At least his prediction proves fairly accurate. A few owls do get close - one even roosts on your head - but they're not really getting in your way. It could be far worse.

You're now Grey. Greenbags just handed you a letter for Dean, who's gone missing. It seems to be a nature letter from his pen-pal Shrike.

Except... some of these letters look a little off, in a way that's all too familiar to you.

But then you check the back and see a notice scrawled by the Postmaster. Seems there's a problem in the roost - some kind of infestation, but you're having trouble working out what the pest is. He doesn't have the easiest handwriting to read, it looks like he said "owls". But that doesn't make any sense, you've never heard of owls in the swamp.

You suppose you'd better ask him before working out what equipment you'll need. The hidden message will have to wait.

"Come on, then," you say. "Dean may not be here, but we can get the squad together and..."

"Er, it's just you and me," Greenbags says. "Aside from Dean, the rest volunteered for patrols tonight."

"And Ash, of course, didn't stop them," you sigh, shaking your head. "Just like the repair squad members. Too eager to help, forgetting that their main job is every bit as important as patrolling. Captain Long wouldn't have let them leave like that."

Greenbags shrugs.

"So, uh. Are we going on ahead by ourselves, or should we see if we can find anyone else on base?"

neither, circumstances force your hands

Those tall brothers were on hold for a swimming-recon mission, but the order to go out's been delayed. If they're just sitting around, they can probably help out.

Before you can answer, you hear a loud noise just outside the room. You rush to investigate, and find three knights in a pile on the ground.

"Sorry," says one of them, helping the others up. You think he's one of Squib's squad... Clancy, you think was his name. "I was heading to, um, see if Squib was all right. Heard he got floored by Mudviper."

"You were in an awful hurry for that," says one of the others. Wait, you've seen him recently... he's one of the Stilts brothers from the card tournament. Oh, and there's his brother with him.

"Squib's a good, um, pal, you know? I only just heard. Really worried. Sorry again!"

He seems in a rush, but you don't give him much thought. After all, you might have just saved yourself some time.

"You two," you say. "Are you doing anything?"

"Well, Ash told us to wait on standby for a swimming recon," says the other brother. Roger, you think? "But we haven't heard from him in a few hours. We were just about to head to his office, but then we heard Burgundy's giving orders now? So we're not sure what we're doing."

"I can tell you what you're doing," you say confidently. "You're coming with me to the roost. Pest control is shorthanded right now, and we've got some kind of infestation to deal with."

"What sort?" asks the... older brother? Jared, you're pretty sure is his name.

"The request wasn't clear. It looked like it said 'owls', but that can't be right. We're going to check it out and then figure out what we'll need to deal with whatever it is."

"Hope it's not more greatrats," probably-Roger mutters.

"I don't think the Postmaster's handwriting is quite that bad. Anyhow, let's go."

You lead Greenbags and the brothers to the roost, and climb the ladder beforehand. You're promptly struck in the face by...

By an owl. Huh. Seems there's a lot of them.

"Postmaster?" you call out tentatively.

"Is that pest control? About time!"

The Postmaster makes his way through to you with a broom.

"I don't know where these owls came from. I bet Dean knows lots about them, though. That's why I sent the request on that letter."

"Right," you say. "Well, unfortunately, I couldn't find Dean." You're pretty sure of the reason why, but you want to inspect the hidden message in that letter before saying anything about it.

"That's a shame. Well, I trust you'll come up with something. Er, you might have trouble getting back down the ladder with the owls around."

"I'll just poke my head down and shout," you sigh.

Once you figure out what your plan is and what equipment you'll need, anyhow.

F L A M E T H R O W E R

a real one this time

F L A M E T H R O W E R

a real one this time

Desert Owls are known to be attracted to heat sources. Much like moths, really.

A broom to pap them out of the roost. Its the simple things that are the most effective sometimes.

A net to block off areas you've chased them out of

F L A M E T H R O W E R

a real one this time

Desert Owls are known to be attracted to heat sources. Much like moths, really.

besides, swamp gases sink

F L A M E T H R O W E R

a real one this time

Desert Owls are known to be attracted to heat sources. Much like moths, really.

besides, swamp gases sink

It makes for easy collection and storage, smells a bit though.

F L A M E T H R O W E R

a real one this time

Desert Owls are known to be attracted to heat sources. Much like moths, really.

besides, swamp gases sink

It makes for easy collection and storage, smells a bit though.

stinks 'n' sinks, that's swamp gas for ya. my point was that we're up in the roost though

If Dean were here, he'd surely have some clever idea for how to deal with these pests. Probably figure out what they were, if not why they were here all of a sudden, and then he'd go on and on about how only river owls gather in such large flocks, plus fifteen other reasons why he's sure they're river owls. And river owls are scared off by strong heat sources. Something like that, you've got no idea what the exact details would be.

But since you don't have that kind of knowledge, you'll just have to get down to basics.

"Get me brooms and nets," you call down. "Thick nets, not the ones for cleaning out the training pond. There should be carrying straps in the storeroom so you can get the brooms up safely. Oh, and make sure you fetch someone else so we can call down if we need anything more, it's not safe to get back on the ladder."

It takes a good ten minutes for your group to arrive.

"Holy hell, it really is owls!" probably-Jared exclaims, handing you a broom. "Since when are there owls in the swamp?"

"Don't know, don't care. We're going to try to herd them away from the important stuff first. We use the nets as a barrier to keep areas clear once we've got the owls chased out."

"Could you start with my desk?" the Postmaster asks, pointing towards it. "John Recordkeeper's there, and I think the old fellow might appreciate having some space."

"Right," you sigh. "So here's what we do: you Stilts brothers get the net ready. Greenbags, you and I will chase the owls away from the desk. Once it's clear, secure the net. We'll take it down after we figure out how we're dealing with the owls."

The plan goes smoothly. The Stilts brothers turned out to be a good choice for assistants; they're tall enough to reach the ceiling easily, so the nets can be secured quickly without giving the owls time to fly back in.

With a little more work, you clear out the owls around the crows' cages. This takes four nets, but once it's done, the crows calm down.

"Okay, last spot is the ladder," you say. "Guess we may as well help the old man out before we get it ready."

"I'll stay up here," the Postmaster says. "We've still got crows out. I'll just loosen the bottom of one of the nets when I need to bring them in."

"Great. It's not ideal, but it should help us keep things under control until we figure out what we're doing with the damn things."

A few minutes later, you've got the ladder secured, and you help old man Recordkeeper down it. He thanks you, then slaps his forehead.

"I completely forgot to get the Postmaster's vote," he groans. He scrawls something on a piece of paper quickly, folds it, and hands it to you. "Don't read that. It's confidential, for officers only."

"No problem," you say. Though you're annoyed by the delay. You climb back up and hand the note to the Postmaster under the net.

Now maybe you can figure out Dean's hidden message. You hope it's worth the trouble.

You're now Clancy. And things are going bad.

You were wary of this whole greatrat plan from the beginning, but then Squib caught one in the water. You figured it might be okay for a night or two, Sergeant Ash was in charge and he'd see to it you didn't get in too much trouble.

But now the damn thing's escaped, and Squib's recovering in the infirmary, and so is Sergeant Ash. And the rest of the squad is out patrolling. Even that one-armed kid you helped earlier doesn't seem to be around.

So you're stuck with three bad options. You could try to catch it yourself - but that's really dangerous. You could wait around and let pest control find it and take care of it, which would probably mean capturing another one - not a task you're looking forward to. Or, you could try to figure out who you can trust to ask for help without blabbing - a tall order, given Squib Squad's general reputation.

What the hell are you supposed to do?

Greatrats can be fast but you've been drugging this one to keep it under. It's just it was Squib's shift to dope it and that never happened. Where ever it is it's groggy and with all the commotion tonight it's probably hiding. (at least until the drugs wear off)

Wait, are some of the patrols coming back in? Maybe some of Squib Squad has returned...

...oh wait it's just some Repair Squad stragglers, dang they look pretty shaken up.

Oh yikes is that one repair squad girl! Lisa, you think. She was good friends with Tom Third back when he was in charge of the squad...before...

...well even before then she didn't have the best impression of you. You almost beat her at swamprats once by sliding some extra cards from your sleeve. She didn't see you cheat, but she still caught you. It was...entrancing...actually, watching the intensity in her eyes as they darted from her hand to yours, putting all the pieces together. She then studied your face and, well, in that moment she gained your respect, and you lost all of hers.

You've done a good job of avoiding her, though you've seen her play a few times before, always staring with that same unrivaled intensity. But now...she seems pretty shaken up, maybe something happened out on patrol.

Go talk to her. Hear what's gotten her shaken up. If she gives you the time of day, maybe you can help. She despises cheaters but, she's so damn clever and Tom spoke so highly of her, it's possible she would help.