Open The Slups Storm Clouds and Crossbow Bolts

[Aiken Brudenell]

Aiken was suspicious of the newcomer at first, not that there was anything he could do should the white-furred marten prove hostile. In the end he was anything but, and the stoat relaxed as Caden introduced himself.

"Thank you," he breathed softly back to the beast, taking the water without giving his name, and letting Caden focus his attention on the more wounded fox. Drinking his full - Gates, did near-death make one thirsty - he made to try to give the rest to Daniil, though the delirious fox soon had his paws full, wrapped around the marten.

Caden said something more, and Aiken blinked, focusing again.

"Yes, that sounds right."

The stoat rose with some effort, wincing with his movement, though he felt good enough for walking. A little pain now beat a small ache for the rest of his life, however long that'd be, left alone in a Slups alleyway without a weapon, so shortly after an attempt on his life.

"Had about enough of the Slups for one day, I think."

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil's world was swimming; why was the ground moving beneath him? The ground wasn't supposed to toss about like a ship in a storm. He clung to the pine marten like a mast in a tempest, the only reliable support he had right now. "'Ospital," he managed to mumble, the word slipping from his lips. "Me... an' 'im..." There was something important, something that he'd been doing, but his mind refused to provide it. For right now, keeping upright was the most essential thing to do.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

"Hospital is right, Daniil," Caden said in as encouraging a tone as he could muster. "Your only task is to stay awake, hold onto me, and put one footpaw in front of the other."

Burdened as he was with Daniil, Caden tilted his head towards his bag and jacket on the ground, addressing the stoat. "Would you mind stuffing my coat in the bag and slinging that over my free shoulder for me?"

He cast about with his gaze at the bodies. His attention went to the single crossbow left on the ground. "And we should take that, get it loaded and ready. We're fairly vulnerable in our current condition." Caden glanced at the stoat. "Do you know how to load and shoot one?

"Also, do you suspect that whoever these beasts are who attacked you will have backup on the way?" Now that Daniil was stabilized--though nowhere near out of the woods yet--Caden's mind was turning over the possibilities of what he needed to be prepared for until they had made it to a safer location.

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

Aiken was more attentive now that it looked like things were moving.

"Eh? Oh, sure. Yes, one moment."

The stoat set about doing as he was told, putting the marten's coat in his bag and carefully pulling it over the beast's shoulder, eyes on Daniil as the fox seemingly struggled to keep consciousness.

He was at least alert enough to catch the subject of Caden's inquiry, fumbling with the crossbow and what bolts he could find on the dead bodies below.

"I... I've seen them used, at least. Read about them."

It was an Imperial Army pattern crossbow, not too dissimilar from what the army had been using when he was still a kit, when his father had all but ruled the country. Probably made in the city. A part of his mind idly wondered which of the major workshops might have produced it for the military. The stoat needed another moment to remember what he was trying to do.

Awkwardly stuffing a few bolts in his pockets, the stoat walked alongside the marten, ignoring the pain in his leg. With a slight grunt, he managed to pull back the weapon's bowstring - thankfully managing to catch it on the latch that held it taut on the first try - and, with a shaky paw, slotted one of the recovered, somewhat bloodied bolts into its groove.

"Haven't any idea, really. Maybe? I - I have to admit I wasn't expecting beasts to want to kill me today."

He tried to smile back at Caden, a forced expression. A part of him felt excited, in a way, still. But more than that he knew he was completely out of his depth.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Words and conversation flowed around Daniil, circling his head, like a swirl of color in the sky. It was beautiful and befuddling. He occasionally caught scraps here and there, isolated bits of meaning that successfully entered his mind. "Beas's... fear... w'pons..." he managed to slur out. "Loo'... c... confi'en'... leave y'... 'lone..." He was so cold, so tired, and lost. Even as he was all but carried by Caden, his mind was soaring away, a bird in flight. Would he be buried in Bully Harbor? Maybe they'd place his grave near his mother's. That would be nice, he'd like to be close to her again. The dagger that had slain her was still close to his side, but he could barely feel the weight of it anymore. Would he notice when it was gone? Would it notice when he was gone?

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

"You went into the Slups and didn't expect anybeast to try to kill you?" Caden chuckled. He nodded to the crossbow in the stoat's paws. "Just be careful if you do shoot it. Watch your thumb. Have your paw in the wrong spot and the string can strip your thumb to the bone."

As Daniil slurred and stumbled, Caden kept a tight hold on him. "That's right, just keep talking. Look confident, eh? I think we can manage that."

They were nearly out of the alleyway when a group of five armed beasts, led by Boggy carrying the second loaded crossbow, rounded the corner.

"Looks like you two found somebeast to help you." Boggy said conversationally. "Couldn't wait for Boggy and the doctor, eh?"

He leveled the crossbow at Aiken while his cohort fanned out to partially surround the trio. "That's fine, though. Couldn't find one. I thought maybe you'd rather just give me all your money and weapons instead and we'll let you walk away with your lives."

Caden had gone completely still, save for his eyes darting between each of the five potential attackers. In addition to the lead rat, there were two other rats, a weasel, and a fox. Their weapons--an assortment of ill-kept swords and knives, other than Boggy's crossbow--were drawn, and they stood at the ready, though clearly with stances of beasts who had learned to use the weapons on the street rather than through any formal training.

"Oi, Boggy." The marten drew the rat's attention as he spoke and moved simultaneously. He was going to have to drop Daniil, but a fall to the ground was better than a bolt to the chest, Caden reasoned. Unable to draw his sword due to the proximity of the injured fox to his hip, Caden released him and went for the knife in the todd's belt, which was directly beside his paw. He saw Boggy whip the crossbow towards him, and he shoved Daniil down even as he swerved away from where he estimated the rat's aim to be. The bolt slammed itself into the muscle of his outer shoulder, but Caden was already barreling forward at the beast closest to him. He began a silent, instinctual count for the time it would take Boggy to reload. He hoped to the Fates that the stoat wouldn't hesitate to use the weapon in his paws.

Knife in paw, and Caden trying to shove to the back of his mind the last time he had held the weapon, the marten closed the distance between himself and the weasel who took a wild swing with their shortsword. Caden halted his rush at the last moment, and the weapon whistled past his midsection. Then he darted in behind the swing and slammed the dagger into the weasel's chest. He felt the familiar grate of the blade sliding over the edge of a rib and into the soft tissue beyond. Shoving the drying weasel away, knife still impaled in his heart, Caden drew his sword and whirled to keep himself between Daniil and the attackers.

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

"Well, I didn't..."

The stoat thought to respond, only to stop and adjust his grip on the crossbow, embarrassed after a realization the marten's warning might have saved him some pain in an immediate future where he had to use the weapon.

The concern proved prescient.

Aiken's look of soft surprise seeing Boggy again quickly turned to indignant shock and then a terrible scowl, seeing the armed robbery about to unfold. Caden acted faster than he could hope to defuse the situation with words or the few gilders he'd brought with him (really just to try and preserve his own life in these sorts of situations) and the stoat swore under his breath, thankful to no longer have a crossbow aimed at him, but scrambling to shoulder and aim his crossbow in the time it took for all hell to ensue.

Sighting Boggy with the top of his loaded bolt, as he'd thought he'd seen other beasts do, the stoat made his first use of a crossbow that he could remember. Somehow his aim proved true, and the bolt went flying into the traitorous rat's arm as he tried to reload.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil didn't understand what happened next. The world swirled around him; it was all color and sound and so, so much cold. He was falling, he knew that much, but was he falling to the ground, or up into the sky? He hit something hard, and he was lying on the ground, but that ground was up, and he was dangling above the infinite expanse of sky, a moment's reversal from plummeting into infinity. So tired...

He closed his eyes.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Boggy screeched, dropping the crossbow that he was struggling to reload. Caden charged the other rat, who turned tail and ran. It took only moments for the others to follow suit. Boggy saw the wild red eyes of the marten turn to him, and he dashed away, paw clamped to his bleeding arm.

"Fy faen," Caden growled once their would-be muggers were out of sight. He sheathed his sword and looked at Aiken. "Thanks for the cover."

Striding to Daniil, the marten crouched beside the collapsed fox and checked to ensure he was still breathing. He placed two fingers to the side of the todd's neck. "He's still got time, but let's hope we don't have to fight any more beasts on our way out of here."

He moved back to the body of the weasel and leaned down to tug the knife from the dead beast's chest. Caden frowned deeply at the blade, holding it in front of him and staring at it for several long seconds. With a long exhale, he used the weasel's grimy shirt to clean the knife as best he could before he returned it to the sheath in Daniil's belt.

"'Gates. Now I need a doctor, too." He managed a dry laugh as he indicated the bolt lodged in his upper arm. "I may need some help getting him up."

Between the pair of them, they managed to load Daniil onto Caden's shoulders. The marten sucked his breath in between his teeth at the pain beginning to throb from his arm as the bright energy from the brief fight faded.

"Keep that loaded and don't look anybeast in the eye," Caden said as he and Aiken began their way out of the alley once more.

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

Aiken didn't have time to process the violence that had happened. The dead weasel on the ground and the bolt in Caden's shoulder. It didn't really faze him as much as it should have, maybe. He wasn't sure - and didn't have time to think about that either.

The stoat loaded his crossbow as he was told. It was easier this time - less of an exertion than lifting Daniil had been, and familiar now, in a way that he could see it working its way into his dreams and waking thoughts from now on. He'd not killed a beast with the crossbow, but he doubted Boggy would be mugging beasts with that arm for a while.

"Hard not to - not to look beasts in the eye, I mean," he said, looking around as his surroundings suddenly seemed more familiar to him. He was by no means a regular Slups denizen - he liked to keep himself out of harms way if he could help it, and his gilders in his pockets where they belonged. But he'd been around enough times to get a feel for how some of the streets and alleys fed into each other.

"I think... I think I might know someone who could help."

He looked to Daniil, in bad a shape as he was, and then back to Caden, the discomfort in his express now different from that which the cut in his leg might have made.

"I'm not sure they'll like to see me around, but - well, it's closer than Pyrostoat. Here, just... follow me. I think I know where I'm going."

---

The apothecary was still open. There wasn't reason for it to be closed on account of the time of day, of course, but there were other considerations. Its position in the Trenches, near to the Slups but far enough away to attract some respectable traffic from elsewhere in the city, might have suggested it got good business, but Aiken couldn't help but have a feeling he'd had a hand in the storefront's dilapidated appearance.

The door got stuck, trying to fit Daniil through. It didn't quite swing open all the way, smashing into a crate full of some sort of jars or glasswear. It couldn't be seen - only heard - from their vantage point in the doorway.

The beast at the counter - a spindly, spectacled, almost sickly looking albino ferret - dropped her book with the chaotic entrance, loudly swearing even before she saw Aiken.

"You! Ye've got a lot of nerve coming back here!"

The stoat threw up his paws, inadvertently waving his crossbow around, causing the ferret to nearly duck behind the counter, swearing under her breath.

"I'm sorry, I really am. But these beasts -" he beckoned towards Caden and Daniil, who he could only hope was still with them "- need some help, and fast! Is -"

The ferret looked the wounded beasts up and down, creeping around the counter, adjusting her glasses to keep them on her muzzle.

"He's out. Just me right now. An' you're lucky I'm here at all. Lot of good you've done the place."

With a grimace that seemed to signify she'd accepted the duty imposed upon her, she opened a door further into the building, clearing a large wooden table of jars and vials with a concerning smash of glass on wood to make room for the most wounded of the bunch.

"Get the fox on 'ere, quickly like!"

With that, the ferret ran off to take scissors, bandage and poultice from her shelves. Moving at a brisker pace than her frame might have suggested, trying to get some supplies ready.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

By the time Caden lowered Daniil onto the table, he felt like laying down himself. The fox was smaller than him, certainly, but Daniil was by no means a small beast. And Caden was not in as good of condition as he had been during his mercenary days. In an effort to continue to be helpful, he set to removing Daniil's shirt with his bloodied paws, though his injured arm had stiffened considerably, making it difficult to perform more precise movements.

"Thank you," he said to the ferret. "Your willingness to help is appreciated."

The makeshift bandage was soaked through. Caden hesitated in removing it, waiting for more direction from the other albino.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil was swimming in a dark sea - no, floating in it. These were strange waters; he could hear his mother's voice floating through, distorted, as if from a great distance. There was a tinkle of laughter, and he could hear a male's voice - Mr. Bridger, perhaps? It sounded like a memory from one of their family dinners, back when happiness had still existed in the world. I haven't let myself be happy for thirty years, Daniil realized. There were moments of brief satisfaction, but for the most part, he had spent that time wallowing in grief and guilt. How much time had he wasted, fixating on his duties and his failures?

"M'ther," he mumbled, swimming closer to the surface for a moment before sinking back into the blackness.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Hearing Daniil speak, Caden took the todd's paw. "Daniil, stay with us. We're safe now, and there's a doctor here who will patch you up. Just stick around, eh?"

He looked down at his paw holding that of the fox's, Daniil's blood staining his white fur red and rusty brown. Caden let out a shaky exhale as a memory resurfaced with painful clarity, one that would wake him some nights in a cold sweat and agonizing sobs. His murdered husband lay before him, blood pooled around him on the beautiful rug that had adorned the entryway to their farmhouse. He had clearly died a horrendous, tortured death at the paws of the beasts searching for Caden. Taking Einar's limp paw in his, Caden could only stare at the jack's blood on his white fur as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Throat tight, the marten dragged himself back to the present and squeezed Daniil's paw to remind himself that the todd was still living. He was in Bully Harbor, separated from that gruesome, heartbreaking day by nearly a year's time and more than a thousand leagues.

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

The ferret wasted no time in getting her materials together, setting what she needed on the table beside the fox after Caden had set him down. Still busy, she only nodded at the marten, seeing him already start removing the Daniil's shirt. If she took any interest in him also being cursed for coloration, it didn't show.

"Thank me after. What happened? What's the wound?"

She didn't really look to anybeast as she asked, clearing a path for herself with a large pair of metal scissors in her paw, metal reflecting brightly in the little light that came in through the door leading back the storefront, and through a side window that was halfway papered over.

Aiken followed her at what he hoped was a respectful distance, finally setting his crossbow down by what seemed to be a good, clear spot, out the way of all the various beasts now stuffed in the room.

"Uh- a sword, I think. Stabbed... somewhere in his side.... I didn't get a good look."

The ferret nodded again, adjusting her glasses as she began cutting through the fox's blood-hued shirt. There wasn't much time for removing it properly, and both the cloth and the stained bandage keeping pressure on the wound had to come off so she could get a better look.

"You, both of you-" she said, gesturing to Caden and Aiken in turn once she'd finally pulled the ruined cloth apart from the side, setting her scissors down as she got her next round of tools ready.

"Hold him down. I've got to clear the injury before I can sew him up. If your friend has any fight left in him, he won't like it."

Giving a moment for her directions to be followed, she set about cutting the fox's matted, bloodied fur with a pair of smaller scissors, following up with a razor, until the wound was visible, still bleeding out onto the table.

If Daniil had been compliant this far, or her paws particularly steady as she shaved away his fur in hurried motions, the fox wasn't going to like what came next. Uncorking a dark bottle set just beside them on the table, the ferret generously doused the injury with its contents - an intense smell of alcohol flooding the room.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil's eyes shot open, and he screamed. In his delirious haze, he was being dragged through the gates of the Hells themselves, the souls of the damned swirling about him. He saw a gleam of fur, gold turned to orange in the fiery light-

"You," he snarled, lunging after Anithias, paws closing around the damnable murderer's throat, eyes wild and unseeing as, in the waking world, his paws closed around Caden's throat instead.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

This was unexpected. Caden knew well enough how to break a chokehold. However, he had never tried to break a hold somebeast had on him while trying not to hurt them. He was not sure he succeeded in this with Daniil as he broke the hold and shoved him back down to the table harder than he intended. Caden braced his arm against the todd's chest, pinning one arm to his torso, the other to his side.

"Daniil!" he cried, trying to make eye contact with the wildly flailing fox. "Stay still! You're safe. Nobeast is trying to hurt you. You're safe, I've got you. It's me, Caden, from the Guard, remember?"

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

The fire in Daniil's eyes died out as he came back to his senses. "Caden," he mumbled, his head lolling, his gaze growing distant and unclear again. The strain of the pain inflicted upon him formed a tense undercurrent to his words. "Where'm I? Wha' 'app'n'd?"

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Releasing his firm hold on the fox, Caden let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He pressed a paw to Daniil's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"We're in the Trenches. We got you out of the Slups after we had a bit of a scuffle with somebeasts wanting our weapons. Aiken had a contact in a shop who could help patch you back up." He looked up at the ferret with a nod. "She just cleaned out your wound, and I assume she'll be stitching you up next, which is going to hurt. Unless she has something to help you with the pain?"

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

The ferret had hissed through the fox's struggles, trying to get his wound as clean as she could despite his movements. The burst of energy and attempt to throttle Caden had made her eyes go wide, but only for so long as it took for her to finish, getting her next tools ready.

"Yes, yes. The idiot owes me another favor. Aiken - the bottle next to you on the table."

Aiken, who had tried holding Daniil down from the other side, said nothing in his defense, knowing there wasn't any way he could make the situation better for himself or the others. His reputation could take the hit, for now. Without protest, he picked out the bottle he thought the ferret was talking about.

"This one?"

The ferret nodded, busy adjusting her glasses again, and getting ready to make the first punctures to stitch the fox's wound closed.

"Yes, that one. The smallest spoon on the table - take it and mix it into some water, in the small cup on the table. Give it to the marten when you're done. He seems to have a handle on things."

Aiken, for his part, moved quickly, trying to make up for his embarrassment. This had all been his fault. His guilt for the fox's suffering was compounded by the ever-growing web of beasts he pulled into it. Anything he could do to be useful seemed right, though self-doubt put up a good fight.

Mixture ready, he handed off the glass to Caden, looking apologetic.

As soon as all were ready, she started on the stitching without ceremony, moving her head occasionally to try and get a better view of her work, struggling against the dim light of the room and the fox's movements, knowing it would take some time for the laudanum to kick in. Blood kept flowing, staining her white fur, and she swore every now and then trying to make her efforts work.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil weakly opened his mouth as Caden carefully poured the laudanum down his throat. The taste was terrible, but, with the amount of blood loss he'd suffered, it at least didn't take long to kick in before the world turned into a haze, so he didn't have to suffer the pain of the stitches for long before his whole body desolved into a tingling numbness. In the white lights dancing above him, he thought he could see the outline of his mother's gentle smile. "Mum," he breathed, his eyes going glassy. "'m s'rry, Mum."

Her voice was ethereal, omnipresent. "My sweet boy," she soothed him. "Oh, my Daniil. You've tried so hard. I'm proud of you."

Tears crept from the corners of his eyes. "I failed y', Mum," he mumbled.

"No, Daniil," her voice soothed him from the sparkles. "You were there for your family. You kept them safe. I'm proud of you. I only wish..." She sighed. "I only wish you'd been there for yourself. You've been so focused on your duty, you forgot to live, to be happy. It's not too late," his mother's voice insisted. "Look at him."

Daniil's eyes rolled to Aiken, and his mother's bemused voice instructed, "No, the other one." His eyes went to Caden instead. "Look how far he went to save you. Look at the care in his face. How long has it been since someone looked at you like that? Since you gazed at another with that care?" Her voice turned gently insistent. "Don't live the rest of your life alone."

"I can't tell'm," Daniil mumbled, his eyelids fluttering. He was so tired...

"Yes, you can," his mother's voice pressed him. "You've been brave for me, for your family. Be brave for yourself."

Daniil's eyes fluttered closed, and he thought that he could smell the faintest hint of his mother's old perfume, the gentle scent of roses.