Swamped

You get more and more terrified with every passing moment. You're increasingly sure he'll peek in under the bed and find you. And you can't do anything to stop him.

"Here it is! Hmm, looks like he hasn't quite finished the map yet, got a few regions that aren't drawn on at all. And, of course, he wouldn't have marked any sightings since last night."

Sightings?

"Well, this is all we have to go on right now, so it'll have to do. Ugh, I hope they don't start popping up inside the fortress, we've got enough problems already."

Popping up?

Is he talking about the desert creatures? He's got a map of where they've been spotted? That's why he's in here?

You're confused, but also somewhat relieved. You watch him walk out without another word.

You release a breath you'd been holding for so long you forgot you were doing it.

When you're sure he's gone, you slowly crawl out from under the bed. Maybe you can have a more thorough look now... or you could just head back, though Razor might still be in the passage.

You could also just leave through the door, you suppose. You'd probably get caught quickly if you did. Though it might be fine if you could somehow be sure Razor wouldn't be involved in the questioning.

What are you going to do?

Explore some more! What kind of books did Rider read?

stop playing dense and realize razor is your father. go to him

You wonder just why it is you find Razor so unnervingly familiar. You don't remember much of your life before the farm, but you saw so few people afterwards that you'd remember most of them... and you wouldn't have met him after you set out on your own, because he would have already been in the swamp.

For just a moment, you find yourself wondering if he's your missing father, but that's absurd. He's too young. Your father's hair was just starting to turn grey when he vanished, and that was seven years ago.

You divert yourself from that line of thought by looking at Rider's bookshelves.

Hmm. Bottom shelf has lots of children's books about animals.

Next shelf up has a good number of combat training manuals. Mostly for spearfighting, but there's a handful of other weapons mixed in. There's even one for slicers.

On the shelf above that, you find a dozen or so books on military strategy, as well as some on disciplining unruly troops. To be expected, considering his position.

Wait a minute. One of these strategy books is written by a Jordan Long. Is that Captain Long? Or one of his relatives, perhaps?

But the biggest surprise is on the top shelf. Not just the subjects - political theory, with a few books on the history of the Aedran empire - but the author of one of the books is Christopher Laikenne.

Your father.

And it's not the sort of book you would have expected to see his name on.

What's the title?

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SpoilerReminder, even when there's a specific prompt, general suggestions are still accepted.

Dreamers of Alexandra - Forbidden romance in the desert.

Dreamers of Alexandra is the title, but the subtitle is particularly surprising - Forbidden Romance in the Desert.

You're curious about it, but you're also mindful of where you are. Maybe Rider's not coming back, but someone's sure to come looking in his room sometime.

You decide to take a quick look and see what it's about.

Frei had always dreamed of greater things. Born in the desert to a poor family, he always thought about what lay beyond the great expanse of sand, and how he might one day see it with his own eyes.

But he was always held back by the need to work every day. Everyone in the family needed to work, in order to keep themselves fed...

You flip ahead a bit.

"Frei, I am sorry. This can no longer go on," Prince Namde said, shaking his head. "There was always a danger in our love, but now it is too great. Aedra stands ready to destroy our grand city. Our only hope of stopping this war is for me to accept their terms and wed Princess Alexandra."

"But she will control the city!" Frei said. "I'll never bow to an Aedran! Never!"

"Frei, I know your anger. But I must act as a ruler before I act as a man. I am sorry, but I can only ask you to leave now, and forget me. Under Aedran rule, our future is grim, but if we deny them, we have no future at all."

"What of our dreams, Namde?" Frei spat back, as he walked out. "I haven't forgotten mine. But you seem to have abandoned yours."

"Dreams are wonderful things, Frei. But a Prince must yield to reality."

You definitely want to read this later. It's the only link you have left to your father.

But right now, you've got to slip back; hopefully Razor's made his way out.

You head back down the dark passage, only to run into someone you can't see. You freeze up - is Razor still around?

"I told you not to wander!" Crook says, annoyed. "This leads to Rider's room, and it's ill luck to go in there. Even if he's not around. No, especially if he's not. He'll know, somehow."

"I had to," you say. "Razor knows about this passage."

"HE WHAT?" Crook shouts, before catching himself. "Damn. Now I need a new place to hide you. Fortunately it's suppertime, so there's not that many folks in the halls, but I'm still not sure where would be best... Hang on, let's get out of this darkness, and you eat up some of this swamp mush while I work out where we go next."

You follow him out, then sit down and start eating. You're at a point where you actually appreciate this bland stuff.

But where are you going next?

the crawl space

Sounds like some Marshguards are shouting...more than usual. Oh! Looks like that Corvus guy woke up!

"Right," Crook says finally. "If Razor knows about this place, I can't be sure anywhere's safe. So we go for the option that has the best fallback plan."

"Which is?"

"There's a crawlspace near the meeting rooms. Lots of places to escape to, and it's easy to hear when someone's coming. But it's hardly comfortable. Still, unless they go all-out on finding you there, you should always be able to slip into an empty room."

"I don't think this is going to work for very long. I've had too many close calls already."

"Sorry. It's hard to go over Razor's head without Rider around. I'm doing what I can, but it's not much. Anyhow, I'll check if anyone's around outside."

He slips over to a peephole, one you hadn't noticed before.

"Hmm, lots of 'em right now," he mumbles. "Razor didn't see you?"

"I was under the bed, and he seemed to be more interested in Rider's maps."

You don't think it's worth mentioning the letters, or your father's book.

"So he shouldn't have any reason to come back here for a while. We can wait until the crowd thins out a little. Wonder what all the fuss is, anyways."

You're now Corvus, and you have a headache.

You woke up in a storeroom in the roost. You think the escaped prisoner caught you by surprise, but you're still too dazed to be sure.

There's a whole crowd jeering as three guards lead you to the mess hall for your meeting with Razor. You're really not looking forward to that.

But the crowd is a more immediate problem. Normally, you just endure their taunts and get on with your work - but if you're going to be a councilor, you need a good reputation among the troops. Which means you're going to have to do something here to get the crowd on your side.

But what?

don't let them know you peed your pants

Oh geeze your head is too sore for thi...

Why is that Bogknight swimmer girl just sleeping right there? Wait...is that Crosswinds and Greeneye?

The hell Greeneye! Did you catch Stacy? You were supposed to be resting! Wait what are you ... oh...OH...uh "Yes thank you for following orders! You caught the ghost of the swamp! Go take her to the cells please."

Ugh. Well, whatever else you do, the first step is to put on a brave face. You've just got a headache, not the damned desert fever. Hopefully, at least.

This is strained a bit when you nearly trip on someone sleeping in the middle of the hallway. What the hell was she doing there? You'd better not have another fever victim...

Wait. Why's she in Bogknight colors?

...You recognize her, she was the swimmer girl guarding you last night. Why isn't she in the cells?

You turn to the nearest Marshguard to ask just that, if only to establish some air of authority, only to realize that the nearest Marshguard is Greeneye.

"I thought you were..." you begin, then you spot Crosswinds next to her, giving you a meaningful glance.

"I thought you were up to the job, Greeneye," you say, sounding as confident as you can. "Good work getting that swimmer. Now take her to the cells!"

"Yes sir," Greeneye says, saluting. "Glad I could help."

You hear some murmurs in the crowd.

"Wait, Corvus sent someone to catch the swimmer? I thought his whole squad was a mess."

"Must be doing something right. Three of our top squads couldn't catch her."

"That's odd, ain't it? Think he might have made a deal with the swimmer?"

"Doubt it. Can't see Corvus as having anything worth offering."

Well, it's not a lot, but they're giving you consideration they wouldn't have before. You're going to need to have a talk with Crosswinds later, though.

You use the opportunity to take the lead in your little entourage. It's clear they've got orders to escort you, but they're not so concerned with keeping you steady now.

Too bad you've still got the headache. As if meeting with Razor wasn't bad enough.

You step into the mess hall and he's already looking impatient.

"Would you care to explain what kept you?" he asks as you sit down.

How should you answer him?

"an opportunity came up to apprehend the bogknight swimmer," you say

you fail because you are not used to spinning things in ways that actually make yourself look better

Be honest. I was up in the rookery when the escapee ambushed me. Slicer to the face. I was told your number two had already checked that area. Not very observant that one.

But follow up. My fault for letting him get the drop on me. Can't wait to get my hands on that one armed punk.

Razor is interested in marshal and has banned mud viper from talking to him, Riders business. You owe Rider more than anyone else here, but Razor wants a partner on the council. Maybe you can make him think you can be valuable to him.

Of course you do have one legitimate advantage over other candidates, you have personal experience with Ash..

"Well, just now I was checking up on my squadmate's successful efforts to catch the Bogknight swimmer..."

You don't sound confident. Mostly because you're not really sure what actually happened there. Would have been nice to be able to talk to Crosswinds or Greeneye about it, but Razor's impatient enough already.

"What about before that, when I had to send men to the roost to look for you?"

"Oh. That."

You try to think about how to make this sound as good as possible.

"I heard a noise, went to investigate. After Claws left, I thought I saw something odd in one of the walls, so I took a closer look. Then, well, I think I saw the escaped Bogknight for just a moment, before getting struck in the head by a slicer. Knocked me out good."

"You were ambushed by the escapee?" Razor asks.

"Careless, I know. Shouldn't have checked alone. If I'd just had backup, everything would have been fine."

"Hmmph. If it had been me, I wouldn't need backup. I certainly wouldn't let the escapee slip away from right under my nose."

"Like Grey-maw did?" you ask. "Heard she was poking around there, but didn't find anything. Got to say, though, must have good instincts for checking the roost in the first place. I'm surprised a one-armed newmuck could get up that ladder."

You suspect it was actually Razor's idea. But he doesn't seem to flinch at the suggestion.

"Grey-maw's performance has been a bit disappointing lately," he says carefully. "Perhaps the pressure of the council watching is too much for her. A shame, really. But you seem to be holding up well under the same conditions."

This is exactly what Mudviper was talking about. If you didn't know better, you'd swear he was on your side.

"Aside from getting knocked out by an escapee, you mean?" you ask sarcastically.

"Actually, yes. I've heard quite a bit about what you've been doing today, and I have to say, it's impressive. You've made an effort to repair your past relationships with key officers, demonstrated effective leadership with your squad, took it on yourself to discipline a troublemaker, sounded the alarm on a problem nobody else had noticed, and now I find out you were directing an operation to capture the swimmer on top of that. Oh, and let's not forget identifying the desert fever. One moment of carelessness can't erase all of that."

You really don't feel comfortable with Razor bringing all that up. You feel like there's a catch to it.

"Maybe I'm just having a good day."

"Or maybe someone is giving you particularly good advice," he mused. "I should hope not; if you're going to make the Council, you need to be able to stand on your own two feet."

Well, the only thing there that wasn't your own idea was catching the swimmer. Maybe you ought to come clean on that; but you think the larger point he's trying to make is, he wants proof. That would explain why he was asking about your desert fever theory earlier; he wanted to make sure it was really yours.

Of course, you can't rule out the idea that he's looking for some kind of leverage on you.

What's the best way to respond here?

tell him the truth, that it's us, the suggestors who are feeding him the good ideas

You have had more help than usual. Crosswinds ran a few errands for you, Mudviper helped gather info on the fever from Doc. Without that you wouldn't have been able to recognize the symptoms. Not sure you'd call it advice though. Mudviper can barely walk right now, let alone advise.

Honestly, you'd have been content to keep your normal rank but...

The swamp is changing. The Bogknights are changing. If Ash takes command, fly poison would be the least of your worries. He -

Oh Mantis and his followers are ready to interrupt the party. Looks like Requiem is...better? They're up and walking now but something seems off...

"I've had help, it's true, but not really advice," you say. "Mudviper got me the information we had on the infections, which is what helped me spot the cause. And Crosswinds told me about the escapee, though it seems their information was a little off on who it was. But they left it up to me to decide what to do about it."

"Crosswinds, you say." Razor looks thoughtful. "So Crosswinds is backing you?"

"I'm not going to speak for them. You can ask them yourself what they think."

"All right, then," Razor says, smirking. "Why don't I ask what you think, then? What's your opinion on being recommended for the Council?"

"Honestly? I was surprised. I hadn't given the idea any thought, hadn't expected anyone to suggest me."

"Do you think you lack the qualifications?"

Oh, you definitely don't want to give him a direct "no" here.

"It's not that. Just didn't seem like something that could happen. Now that I've had some time to actually think about it, I think I can offer a distinct perspective to the council, one that we could all benefit from."

"What, precisely, do you mean by that?"

"Well, the big thing is Ash. I heard he might take over for Long. And nobody here knows him like I do."

"Really. What insight do you have into him, then?"

Before you can answer, Mantis bursts in, followed by a few other Marshguards. Including Requiem.

"We're in the middle of something, Mantis," Razor growls. "What are you doing here?"

"I received a very interesting report earlier. About desert fever."

"Yeah, I noticed the symptoms were really similar..."

"Requiem. You spent some time in the desert before arriving here, did you not?"

Requiem nods.

"And I believe you were stricken with the fever while you were there."

Requiem nods again.

"Now, I seem to recall there's an interesting distinction between fly toxin and desert fever. Would you be able to tell me what it is?"

Requiem shakes their head.

"Oh, that's right. Because fly toxin causes severe inflammations in the throat, inflammations which are not a symptom of desert fever. Inflammations which make it very painful to talk, or even eat."

Requiem nods.

"Doc's reports didn't mention inflammations in the throat," you say. "Has this happened to anyone else?"

"I don't know," Mantis says. "What matters is, whether your theory is correct or not, it definitely appears that poison is in play. I came here to bring Razor to an emergency meeting about it, but since you are a candidate for the vacant seat, I would be interested in what you have to say on this matter."

Well, you weren't really ready for this.

What's your response?

see if you can rule out naturally-occurring fly toxin through deduction

Do what you do best, admit you could be wrong.

But Doc seemed sold on the desert fever idea. Has Mantis brought this up with her?

Mantis does like their trials. Is Requiem really sick?

Either Mantis is testing you, Doc missed something big, or Requiem is a special case. Maybe Mantis us curious how the potential council member would treat their pet acolyte.

There are other possibilities, allergic reactions, poorly groomed Fenguins, but first...

You at least know how to tell if someone is faking it. Stomp on their foot. Worked last time Shorty tried to play hooky. If they cry out it can't be that bad, and if they take it in silence well then let's find the source.

Could you be wrong?

Well, Mudviper was talking just fine last you saw her. But she also didn't show any symptoms until earlier today. It might be she got the fever, but no one else did.

On the other hand, it might be that only Requiem got poisoned. After all, their illness did come at a very convenient time for the more aggressive Council members.

You know Bigfoot would never resort to something dirty like that. You've worked with her before. But what about Razor?

...No. You don't see it in him. Yeah, he fights dirty, and he's all too happy to poke his nose in everyone's business, but he wouldn't do something like that to another Marshguard. Not even one he disliked.

Bad as Razor may be, he's no Ash.

Maybe Mantis isn't so sure, though. Maybe he's trying to read Razor's reactions.

Such as by seeing if he looks at all relieved when Mantis turns the focus to you.

Well, this test doesn't require Requiem to actually be poisoned, does it. Maybe you can give that a quick check.

"Well, I've given it some thought," you finally say, pacing around. "And what I think is..."

You suddenly, 'carelessly', step on Requiem's foot. And hear a piercing scream.

"...that somebody here owes us an explanation for the miraculous recovery of Requiem's vocal chords."

"Dammit, Mantis," Razor growls. "Was this really the time for one of your blasted tests?"

"I must admit, I did not expect such a direct approach to resolving my little deception. I believe I learned some very interesting things. Wouldn't you agree, Requiem?"

"Yes, sir. Though I would have preferred to learn them in a less painful manner," Requiem groans.

"Fair enough. You are still in need of rest; let us partake of our evening meal, and then return you to quarters."

The group walks off to another table. Razor turns to you and laughs.

"Well. That settles it. Nobody could have fed you that answer. Not unless you're hearing the words of the gods themselves." He chuckles for a bit more before finally calming down. "So, where were we... ah, that's right. I wanted you to tell me about Ash."

That's a big subject. Where do you even begin?

i knew him a long time ago. dude's a fucking psycho, like, murdering-squirrels psycho

Yikes Fogel, I didn't...uhh... gonna tuck this one into a spoiler...

Marshguards aren't keen on sharing their back story, but in this case...

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Spoiler
Foster care isn't that great most places, you suppose you're lucky to have had it at all - although having an abusive good for nothing drunk of a caretaker didn't do you much good. It still sickens you to think how much of him rubbed off on you.

Ash was one of the boys the old man brought in. He was younger than you, but not by much. He didn't take the hits like you did - he'd find a way out, blame someone else, divert the old man's anger to another, sometimes you.

Ash always had ambition. He worked to understand the flow of power in the community. He needed to know who was in control and why. He was a quick study. You think it was him who planted the idea of "renting" the boys out for couriers in the old-man's head.

At the time, you admit, you kind of liked the kid. You forgave him the occasional whipping you got - you figured you were just covering for him. Hell you even practiced reading together. And the courier job was better than some of the other things he could have rented you out to do.

Ash was rising in the ranks fast. Merchants had a lot of money and...well that was the nice thing about meritocracy, even a foster kid like Ash could get some property and power if he showed the aptitude for it.

Funny how the old man finally bit it. Drunk in the street right as a loose caravan ran him over. You don't think it was coinicdence that, just a week before, Ash discovered the old-man had found his stash of savings, and promptly drank it all away.

You recall Ash wasn't even mad. There was a flash of anger for a moment...but it subsided. At the time, you had thought he let it bounce right off of him, but now you think he stored it away someplace deeper.

That was the turning point in your relationship. Ash was free to climb the ranks and it became clear that you were not his friend or his family. You were, at best, a pawn to him.

Around that time, Ash began to have trouble sleeping. It started as a restlessness, twisting and turning in bed. As it went on though, he began to wake up suddenly at night. One night, you woke up to the sound of screaming in the portico of the merchant's manor. Ash was outside, half dressed with a horse's bridle in his hand. He was crying out "Make it stop!!" You had run to help him, but when you reached over he pushed you back, whipping you with the bridle. You saw true rage in his expression then - he was furious at something, maybe himself.

The rumors were he had been sleepwalking. Apparently some night-maids had seen him wondering around the last few nights. Like he was unconsciously trying to go somewhere, but each time he'd suddenly wake up and storm back into his room.

That night in the portico was the last instance of sleepwalking you know of...You wonder if Ash still sleeps with his wrists bound to his bed.

None of that is relevant to what Razor wants to know.

He'll want to know about the slaves.

He'll want to know how Ash realized he could maximize profits by dealing in unscrupulous activities. How when he discovered the merchants underground trade he found ways of maximizing it, instead of trying to shut it down. How sometimes people just went missing, and the more that did, the more the wealth of the merchant community grew. How you finally realized that, in Ash's mind, people are pawns, and pawns can be property.

But you can't tell Razor that, because if he knew that he'd rally the troops and attack the Bogknight base in an instant. Razor has no mercy for slavers.

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SpoilerYou left after you found out what you had been helping, what you had a hand in building. But there were some questions you still had about Ash. Why did he keep you around even after he gained affluence? Why did he let you carry messages about the trade if he was one of the few that knew you could read? Why the hell, after all these years did he finally decide to leave and come to the swamp?

You did realize the answer to one question you had about Ash, however. You couldn't have known until you experienced for yourself. You knew why Ash could never sleep, and why he kept himself tied to his bed at night.

The Swamp called out to Ash, and he fought it.

...sooo consider the non-spoilered bit my actual suggestion, the rest is just...wordy musings.

Ambition... no, that wasn't it, that's not the right word. It's true that the man stops at nothing to get what he wants but... At the same time he doesn't really want anything. Life's a big game to him — others, his own. Nobody could count the number of times he risked his life and limb over nothing at all. And when he got money, he never saved it, he spent it and then gave the rest away to whoever was standing close by. He's terminally bored.

Well... There is one thing you think he wants now. Ever since he got to the swamp... he wasn't called here... he's been sending you letter after letter, weekly. It doesn't matter that you never answer, they just keep coming. Sometimes he tries to set up chess-by-mail, sometimes he talks about his regrets, sometimes he laments his sleepwalking, his nightmares and convulsions, most of the time he just talks about his week and the newmucks and Long. If you didn't know him better, you'd think he wanted you, or anybody, to be his brother and friend again. Maybe that's still true, but you do know him better, and you're just plain scared.

Whatever his current cause is, he's probably gathered a group of Bogknights to support him. The content of his letters are more frivolous than not - no real tactical details. I suspect though, if or when Ash gains command, the Bogknights will be split internally. Razor look at me - we cannot attack him during that time. He will try to provoke us, but if we outright attack he will be able to rally the entire base under him against a common enemy.