Swamped

Can you whip out a mistflower?

If only you still had your pouch. A mistflower might cause enough of a stir to let you slip away. But Crosswinds confiscated it, and you ran off without getting it back.

Suddenly, the air fills with a thick smoke. You hear some yelling, but you're too dazed to understand any of it. All you know is that suddenly you feel yourself being dragged away.

By the time you regain your bearings, you're in the water beneath the floorboards again.

"You're really makin' it hard to keep this mess under wraps, you know," Crosswinds says, glaring at you. "As if I didn't have enough things to deal with today."

"I just wanted to get out of here."

"Look, I get it. I used to be bad at followin' orders too. Most of us did. Plenty of us still are. But if you sit tight instead of running around everywhere, this'll go a lot smoother. You just had to get caught by Claws, though. Anyone else, I would've been able to talk my way into escortin' you, but Claws, she always wants to do everything herself."

You manage to gather your thoughts enough to realize something's wrong.

"Hang on, that mist was darkened. Did you contaminate my mistflowers?"

"Nah. One of our prisoners had some with him that were already dirtied up. If you behave yourself, I'll give your pouch back... minus the carrot, though. I was in the roost earlier and one of the crows came back and caught a whiff of it, you see. Wouldn't leave me alone."

"That carrot was a gift," you say, annoyed.

"Ah. Really sorry. Not much I can do about it, though; can't even really pay you back for it, since we don't have any money out here."

"You could let me out of here. I'd consider that good enough payment."

"Ha! Good one, but no, can't do that. Job comes first. Though I could see my way to doin' you a favor of some sort when this all gets sorted out, if you've got something in mind."

Hmm. Maybe you should take them up on that offer. You've been put through a lot and it's not over yet, you might as well have something to show for all this trouble.

Probably too much to hope for, but maybe they have some lead regarding that mysterious thing you found in the desert.

"Well, actually, there might be something. It's a longshot, but I'll ask anyways. Just the other day, we found a huge stone pillar in the desert... and the strange thing was, it looked like it had been soaked by water not long ago. We couldn't guess at what it meant, but then I turned up here."

"Where there's loads of water," Crosswinds says, catching on. "Don't know much about stone pillars, though. But then again, maybe there was something here ages ago. I got a few people I can ask about ruins, I'll see if I can work that into my schedule."

They don't sound very sure about that.

"You're that busy?"

"There's always a big pile of things going on. More today than usual, of course, but this is a big place. I try to sniff out the stuff that might fall through the cracks, the dirty little jobs humans have too much pride for."

"Is that what I am? A dirty little job?"

"Nah. You're a troublemaker. Except I get the sense that you're not aiming to make trouble, are you? You just want out of here."

"Can't argue with that."

"Well, you'll have to sit tight a bit longer. Razor's in a worse mood than usual for some reason, and he doesn't need you turning into another problem. Now, you and I know you won't be a problem if you just get the hell out of here, but good luck convincing him on that."

"So where am I staying this time?" you say. You don't expect to get another cozy stay in Keeper's kitchen.

"Just follow me."

Crosswinds doesn't say anything else, and just guides you through the crawlspace. A few minutes later, you emerge at last... but where is this?

Somewhere very loud and very smelly.

You can't really tell where you are at first; you can barely see a thing, it smells like a zoo in here, and your ears are distracted by the sounds of agitated animals.

It takes you a moment to regain your bearings and realize that you're in the middle of a menagerie of swamp creatures.

"Why'd you bring me here?" you ask. "Are you aiming to feed me to an alligator?"

"Nah. I just figured they'd be getting hungry. And since I need to keep an eye on you, might as well have you help out in the meantime. This ain't our last stop, but it's on the way. Don't worry, hardly anyone comes this way."

Most of the creatures unnerve you.

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

Crosswinds points to a mop in the corner.

"I figure you're not really up for feeding 'em. So just clean up whatever mess got outside the pens."

And with that, they leave you alone and start looking at feed bags. But you get the sense they're paying close attention to what you're doing.

You head over and grab the mop, but as you do, you notice that one of the cages has a Greater Fenguin. There's a note on the wall next to it.

"do not feed yet. being preserved for examination. unsure of how diet compares to lesser fenguin. animal expert among prisoners, plan to consult."

"Hey, how long has this Greater Fenguin been here?" you ask.

"Mantis caught it last night. Doesn't want anyone else going near it."

"Last night? And it hasn't been fed yet? That's a problem, they get real desperate if they go too long without food."

"Yeah? Well, I'd be happy to take care of it, if you know what the damn thing eats," Crosswinds says. "So what do you know about this big guy?"

lovable scamp eats honey. hey ain't there bees 'roundabout here

"Strange as it may sound, it mainly eats honey. Its tough skin protects it from the stings of the desert bees, so when it finds a hive, it just digs in, grabs the honey, and goes back under the sand. Then the bees work on repairing their hive. And since they don't often move it, the fenguins tend to raid the same few hives over and over."

"Doesn't sound like that works out too well for the bees," Crosswinds muses. "But it's gonna be tough to get ahold of some honey for this thing."

"I saw some bees outside earlier. Probably more displaced desert dwellers. You Marshguards have tough armor, you should be able to raid the hive without too much trouble."

"Assuming we can find them. And assuming they haven't gotten so confused about being in the swamp that they haven't made honey yet, or it's got weird swamp stuff in it that the fenguin doesn't like." Crosswinds grumbles. "Well, I guess it's Mantis' problem, since he's the one who brought it in."

They walk over to the note and scrawl "IT EATS HONEY" on it.

"All right, he'll see that sooner or later. Now, let's get to work."

Well, you're not happy about it, but you start mopping.

It's not long, though, before someone walks in. There's something about him that gives off the air of a priest, and not just the way he's holding his hands in front of him.

"Hello, Mantis," Crosswinds says, sounding annoyed. "Finally came to take care of your new pet, huh?"

"Alas, my work has kept me busy," Mantis says. He glances briefly in your direction, but doesn't seem to react. "Is that your handwriting I see on my note?"

"Yeah. Found out from her," Crosswinds says, pointing directly at you.

"Honey, is it? Very well. I will send some of my junior disciples to retrieve some. I understand we have been having some minor trouble with some bees as of late, perhaps we can locate their hive."

There's something unsettling about how unconcerned Mantis is. He doesn't seem to care at all about your presence, which is more than a little odd. Even if Razor filled him in for whatever reason, you'd expect him to have some reaction to actually seeing the intruder.

Whatever the reason for his calmness, it's making you uneasy. You wonder if you should do something, or perhaps you should just continue mopping the floor and wait for him to leave.

You are not seen as a threat. Might as well make the most of it and learn more about them.

You realize that more than anything else, you're exhausted after all the running around you've been doing. And this mopping isn't helping.

So you just stop. At least until Mantis leaves. Crosswinds gives you a glance, but doesn't press the matter.

You definitely feel a bit better now that you're not exerting yourself on top of everything else. It gives you a chance to notice things you didn't a moment ago.

For instance, you just noticed that the fenguin's keeping very still. That's what they usually do when they feel threatened...

Wait, hang on a moment. Is the fenguin scared of Mantis?

That's unusual. Your team's trapped a few fenguins, and they don't tend to get frightened. That's not their normal reaction to humans or greblings, it's their reaction to predators...

Wait. Did Mantis subdue it by force? That could explain it. Of course, it only serves to make him more unsettling - he's not particularly muscular, after all.

Maybe it's a good thing that he's ignoring you. Though he's not doing much of anything else, either; he just seems to be watching the fenguin. Maybe he's meditating too, you can't really tell.

Suddenly, he turns to you.

"What do you believe in?" he asks, as though he'd been talking to you the whole time.

Well. What are you supposed to say to that?

Pertaining to what sir?

"I... I'm not sure what you mean," you say. "Are you asking about my religion?"

"No, or rather, not in the usual sense of the word." He seems lost in thought. "Before I came here, I joined a number of different churches. I was looking for answers, thought that if I followed the right creed, the gods would smile upon me."

Now you really feel lost. But he continues.

"For far too long, I thought my problem was that I was going to the wrong church. But as I moved from one to another, I realized the deeper truth: I was bringing the wrong self to the church. I believed only in me, and so, whatever names I might have called the gods, I was not truly asking for them."

He smiles. You think. It's only a slight change in expression, so it's hard to tell.

"Now I believe in something more than myself, and my worship is no longer hollow. I still ask the gods for guidance, but now I know what I wish to be guided towards."

Well. You think that clarified the question a bit, but you still find Mantis confusing on the whole.

He doesn't say anything else. You have no idea if he still wants you to answer the question or not. You just don't know what to make of him.

there's only one god

"There's only one god," you say, a little bitter. "Maybe there's more for you humans, but Reth's the only one who gave the greblings any help when we needed it."

Mantis nods in understanding.

"We humans have much to atone for - and not all of our sins are in the past. I suppose it makes sense to believe the gods must atone as well."

"I don't want your pity or an apology. I'm just answering your damn question."

"Thank you for taking the time. I hope you will think about what that answer truly means to you. Now, I must get back to work."

And just like that, he leaves. What a strange man.

Well. At least he's gone. You get back to mopping, now that he's not unnerving you.

"Personally, I never thought Reth was that great either," Crosswinds mutters, as they dump a bucket of something - fish? - in an alligator's pen. "Sure, we survived, but it ain't like she did anythin' much for us afterwards."

"I get where you're coming from," you reply. "Of course, there's still colonies that would hang you for saying that."

"There sure are."

They sound even more bitter than usual. You think you touched a nerve. You decide not to press it and just finish mopping.

A few minutes later, Crosswinds speaks up.

"Okay, that's good enough. Let's go."

They lead you under the floor again. You still feel a little thrown off by Mantis.

Maybe Crosswinds could help you understand what happened back there a little better, if you asked the right questions.

Ask if Mantis tamed all these critters.

"So... did Mantis catch all those creatures back there?"

"Just the Fenguin," Crosswinds says. "And that's only because it showed up outta nowhere right on our doorstep. Rider tamed the rest of 'em."

You've heard that name a few times, but it didn't really stick out.

"So what was Mantis even doing there, then? After he saw the note, what reason did he have to stick around?"

"Hell if I know. Mantis always does that sort of thing. He shows up somewhere, doesn't say a word, and then leaves. Seen it happen dozens of times, still got no clue why. Even his disciples don't know, they just figure it's part of his quest for enlightenment or something."

"That man has disciples?" You're finding it a little hard to believe that.

"It's not that weird. Say you're a real believer and you find yourself stuck here. Or maybe you find religion after whatever you gotta get away from. Either way, Mantis is the only game in town, so you wind up going to him. The disciples are just a little more eager about the whole business, that's all."

"Huh. I guess that makes sense... hang on, though, they can't all be from the same sect, can they?"

"Doesn't matter to 'em, at least not after the first month or two. Like I said, Mantis is the only game in town. Now, it's true there's been more than a few folk who had trouble getting their heads around that, but they came around in the end."

Suddenly, Crosswinds stops.

"All right, we're here. Since I ain't about to declaw you or lock you in a metal box, best option I got is to keep you entertained until Razor lets you leave."

Crosswinds leads you out into a new room. What is this place, exactly?

there's a shitty piano here. crosswinds is gonna entertain you with some homespun ragtime

You find yourself staring at a piano, which is barely holding together by the looks of things.

"What."

"Look, we ain't got a lot of entertainment options here," Crosswinds says. "Games are too competitive, which is asking for trouble with the kinds of people we get out here. We've got a sort of acting company, but they all have other jobs so they don't perform too often. And then we got this old hunk of junk."

"Does it even play?"

Crosswinds doesn't say a word. They just sit down at the keyboard and play... well, it's more than a little out of tune, but you can definitely recognize the song despite all that.

"Technically."

"So, what. You expect me to just sit here and listen to you play this piano for a few hours, assuming it lasts that long?"

"Hell no. I ain't got that kinda time. Besides, Strings is way better at this than I am."

Just as you're about to ask who Strings is, a woman in a Marshguard uniform walks in. You don't think you've seen her before.

"Well, you seem to be getting something out of your practice sessions, at least," she says. "I don't suppose you're going to explain who your friend is."

"Got that right," Crosswinds says. "But I can't have her go wandering around, so, I want you to keep her entertained."

Strings smiles.

"That's what I live for."

"Great. Catch you later."

And with that, Crosswinds vanishes, no doubt under the floor again. Leaving you alone with... well, probably the least intimidating person you've seen in this whole swamp. She's not even that tall as humans go.

"So!" she says, taking a seat at the piano. "Got any requests? Or shall I just give you a sample of my favorites?"

lay down something that swings, daddio

Something from the deep western style

"I was born in Draede, on the western coast," you say. "Had to leave when I fell out of favor with my family, but I still remember the festival music."

"Draede, eh," Strings says. "Been there a few times, before I got kicked out of my troupe. Fast-paced stuff, really gets your heart pumping."

She starts playing a song. You remember the tune, but the name escapes you. It's been a long time since those days.

Draede's one of the few kingdoms where greblings can attain nobility. It was certainly a shock when you ventured out beyond their borders. You'd heard of the purges, of course, but you thought they were far in the past.

And the actual purges might be. But the disgust that lead to them? That was alive and well. It was probably even around in Draede, you'd just been sheltered from it.

Not that you felt much more at ease in most grebling colonies. You can understand why people would cling to the old ways, but you couldn't live with them. Not after what you'd seen.

Thank Reth you found Simone. You don't know what you'd have done without her, and the world she led you into.

While you reminisce, Strings makes her way through several old Draede folk songs. Finally, she stops.

"That's about all I know from Draede," she says. "Sorry if I got anything badly wrong."

"No, you were perfect," you mutter.

"Well. You got any other requests?"

What kind of troupe were you in? Where did you travel?

"Not just now," you say. She's gotten you curious. "What was that about a troupe?"

"Wasn't there for long - only eight months," she says, looking thoughtful. "It wasn't a family troupe, though. Heavy turnover. Most of the performers were runaways, or like me, just down on their luck enough to try a little time on the road. Lots of times they'd look for housing when they stopped by a new town, and if they found it, they quit just like that. The boss never seemed to care much."

"That's odd," you say. "Never heard of a troupe like that."

"Yeah, well, as time went on I started to think they were kind of shady. Some of our 'performers' only stayed on from one town to the next, didn't even do one show. I wasn't the nosy type, though; I was getting food and water, and I got to play every couple of weeks, so I was happy enough there." She looks upset now. "Then one day, they just kicked me out and left town without me. Didn't say why. I figured they just didn't want an outsider around too long - even if I wasn't poking around, I might stumble onto something."

Strings groans.

"But apparently I wasn't cynical enough. The real reason they left me there was to take the blame. I don't know what the hell happened exactly, I just know I had the town guard on my tail. I spent half my savings bribing a passing farmer to take me to the next town, but they were on watch for me too. Whatever those bastards were up to must've been real big... but it's not my problem any more."

"So, you came here? To the swamp?"

"It's where we go when we got nowhere else. Wasn't easy getting here, and it's no palace, but it's my home now and I'll take it. I mean, all I had goin' for me when I got here was my lute and a price on my head. Here, at least, I got food and a family. The food may stink and the family's got a pile of assholes in it, but they're mine."

You suppose you can relate.

Granted, you aren't exactly a criminal, or a soldier. But you can understand how this run-down fortress in the middle of a smelly swamp can be a home, and how the people here, for all their flaws, can be a family. That's desert life.

Something occurs to you.

"If you have a lute, why are you playing that rickety old piano?"

Strings laughs heartily.

"I ain't got the lute any more. Smashed it on old man Burgundy's face years ago. And it was damn well worth it." She smiles at you. "So! You want more music, or more conversation? I can take a crack at either."

play something that makes YOU nostalgic this time

> Ask them to let you play. Then leave them awed at your skill.