Open The Slups Storm Clouds and Crossbow Bolts

[Berchar Fleetfoot]

Today was the day. After weeks of saving his coin scrubbing down tables, underselling the odd charcoal sketch, and explaining then filling out forms for illiterate residents of the Slups, he'd saved enough for a restock. Medical equipment had always been available on subsidy in the Academy and the army: even seasons on now the upkeep for independents struck him. Well, he could potentially have opted for the cheaper materials, but the jerboa was still resistant. Quality, after all, bore superior results.

That was exactly what led him out of the Slups towards the apothecary he's had his eye on for some time, medical bag in paw as he mentally rehearsed what tools, bandages and medicines he was going to require. No doubt it would be cheaper to visit a herbalist and make the more basic medications himself, but he'd hardly trust himself with the equipment in a small apartment, let alone his erratic flatmate.

The bell to the shop tinkled as the Jerboa entered. At once his ears pricked up at the sounds of chaos from the back rooms, and a quick glance at the counter confirmed his suspicions. Anxiously the jerboa hopped across the shopfront and poked his head around the door, eyes widening behind his spectacles at the sight. Oh, an emergency. It had been some time...

"Goodness..." Chancing a pace into the room, he looked from one face to another before nodding to the albino ferret. Habit urged him to do what he could; manners urged him not tread on her paws nor distract too much, especially while she was busy with the task of stitching. "Do you - do you beasts need another paw, here?" He raised his bag somewhat self-consciously, "I've some experience."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

"Mum. M' s'rry, Mum."

Caden wished he could disappear in that moment. His chest tightened. Daniil's gaze swung around before landing on the marten. Swallowing, Caden did his level best to maintain eye contact.

"I can't tell'm."

Squeezing the todd's shoulder again, Caden murmured, "It's okay, you don't have to tell anybeast anything right now. Just rest, okay?"

He felt a flutter of relief as Daniil closed his eyes again. Hopefully that would be the end of any more ramblings before they became more personally detailed.

Another beast entered the back room of the apothecary. Caden blinked in confusion at the stranger, unsure of how to categorize the small beast.

"An experienced beast could be helpful, no?" Caden glanced in question at the ferret as she stitched Daniil's side.

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

The ferret kept working through Daniil's pain or drug fueled delusions, focused on the task at hand. The only changes in her expression were bouts of frustration, trying to sew his wound closed in the dim light, with slippery, blood-stained paws.

She didn't immediately react to the newcomer's entrance.

Aiken could do little more than stand by, through all this, staying close should his help be needed, but far enough away he wouldn't interfere with his presence. He saw the jerboa - a strange-looking creature, such as he'd never seen before - and called out to the apothecary assistant, in case she'd somehow missed Caden or the newcomer's words in her focus.

"Yfanti?"

"I heard them," was all she said back at first, retrieving her scissors to cut the excess from her stitching.

Seeing she was busy, Aiken looked to the beast himself, gesturing over to Caden.

"Caden's still got a bolt in his shoulder... if that's something you know how to work with. I can help, if you need another set of paws..."

 

[Berchar Fleetfoot]

That the jill barely acknowledged him was of little affront: the jerboa often found it saftest to be disregarded and trusted to her ability to handle the situation. Instead he turned his attention to the younger stoat, brows raising in concern as his head whipped to this Caden fellow. He was impressed. “A bolt? You’re a sturdy beast and no mistake. Now that I can do.” He flashed the taller pine marten an apologetic smile. “You might need to sit down a bit, though. Sorry. Probably for the best anyway.”

Keeping his long tail curled and tucked as much as possible so as not to risk knocking over any of the myriad objects in the room, Berchar hopped a few paces closer as he started unbuckling the bag he carried, sorting through the remnants of his emergency supplies. Whilst doing so he gave Aiken a nod. “Another set of paws would be a help for keeping your friend here steady, if you’d be so kind. My only problem, Caden, is I’ve not much in the way of pain relief…”

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

"That's fine." Caden moved away from Daniil, releasing the todd's shoulder with some hesitation. He looked down at his injury. "I think you can just push it through. Seems to be only in the outer muscle; can feel it pressing against the skin on the other side. Had one like that in my leg once."

The marten found an open space of wall and slid down against it until he hit the ground none-too-gently. He sighed heavily and leaned his head back. "Gods, it feels good to sit. Can't remember the last time I carried a beast that far." He motioned to the jill. "Say, do you have any more alcohol? I'll take that as my pain relief."

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

Aiken got to making himself useful as soon as he could, slipping along the other side of the table to meet Caden and the newcomer, standing a ways back to be directed as the beast saw fit - hopefully being a healer or doctor of some sort, given his appearance in the apothecary with a doctor's bag.

Yfanti was still focused on Daniil, but only for a moment longer, removing the last of the excess stitching with her scissors. Setting her scissors down with a sigh, she finally let herself relax, stress coming off her body like sweat. After a moment's eternity she finally stirred again, adjusting her glasses before looking around, finding another nondescript bottle - this one dark, almost black, with a cork faded and tearing and clearly well used.

Prying it open, she took a swill before holding the bottle out to Caden.

"Brandy - medicinal."

The ferret looked at him for a moment before turning back to her tools, collecting the bloodied pairs of scissors and whatever else remained out, to be cleaned later.

"Not cheap, so... try not to drink it all."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden took the bottle and lifted it to the jill with a nod of his head. "Just enough to dull the pain, aye."

He drank a mouthful, then another, wincing. "'Gates. How did you pull that with a straight face?" Caden set the bottle beside him and glanced sidelong at the strange newcomer.

"What should I call you? Would be good to know whose name I should curse as you're dragging the bolt out."

 

[Berchar Fleetfoot]

The jerboa gave Yfanti a nod of thanks as she passed the brandy to the handsome white marten, finding the work that much easier now the height disparity had been levelled. Despite the nerves which so often came with unexpected emergencies, he managed a dry chuckle. “Oh, I'm Berchar,” he replied, “but I’ve been called all sorts before. We’ll see how creative you feel once we get a good look at this…”

Quick paws settled on either side of Caden’s shoulder as he inspected the wound, noting any reaction to the gentle pressure as he inspected its location. Caden was still chatty, at least: that at least was a positive sign. “Looks like you’ve had a lucky escape: we should be able to get this out and cleaned up without you needing the hospital.” As he busied himself with scrubbing his paws, he looked to Aiken. “Once I start taking this bolt out it’s going to be essential that your friend stays still. Can you help with steadying him on that side, please? We’ll do this as quickly as we can.” He managed another smile at the marten. “You just hold tight, now, sir.”

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

(Co-post between me and Caden)

Aiken still felt awkward. Of course, he thought he probably should. It was his fault Daniil and Caden had gotten into this mess. The stoat winced at the thought – at nothing in particular, it would seem, the pain in his leg having long faded to a sort of subtle soreness.

Readying paws on the larger, older marten – to try and keep him still as Berchar did his work – he thought about something, or anything to say, to try and make the circumstances more comfortable – if not for his own sake, then for the albino’s.

“Uh, thanks again, by the way.”

Aiken’s whiskers bristled in a sort of flustered embarrassment, as though this somehow wasn’t the typical sort of social situation he found himself in.

“I don’t think Daniil would’ve made it – don’t think we’d have gotten past that rat without you either.”

Caden glanced briefly at the doctor’s paws as the jerboa set to work on his shoulder, then winced and looked at Aiken, sucking his breath through his teeth.

“You’re welcome.” His voice was strained and clipped with pain. “I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time. Makes up for you being in the wrong place at the wrong time, apparently.”

The marten managed a dry chuckle as pressed his head back against the wall and bared his teeth. Aiken could feel tension coiling in the marten’s muscles beneath his paws as Caden fought to keep himself still.

Grimacing for the pain the marten surely felt, Aiken tried to keep him talking.

“I wouldn’t have made it at all if not for Daniil over there.”

The stoat gestured to the unconscious fox, as well as he could without moving his paws.

“Put himself between me and some beasts who wished me worse. You… seemed to know him already.”

The stoat let his words trail into a question of sorts, curious himself what sort of beasts his rescuers were.

Caden growled low in his throat at the doctor’s efforts. “He’s a brave and earnest beast, doesn’t surprise me that he would have done that for you. Ah shi–” Grabbing Aiken’s arm tightly to steady himself, Caden grated out his answer to the stoat’s question. “We work together–in the Guard. Joined up on the same day. ‘Gates!”

The bolt was out. Caden shuddered and released his grip on Aiken. There would be blood to staunch, probably stitches, but the worst was over. He breathed and reached up to pat the stoat’s paw in a show of camaraderie.

“Thank you. You did good.”

Aiken did his best not to react as the white-furred marten worked through the pain. When it was all over, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Heh, least I can do, friend. Long as I owe you two... saving my life, and all that."

He smiled weakly, thinking of saying more, only to step back and give Berchar – the strange-looking healer – some space to look his patient over.

 

[Berchar Fleetfoot]

Berchar was incredibly grateful for Aiken's conversation: keeping his patient busy and focused elsewhere was ideal for the jerboa's work and a grand indication of Caden's wellbeing. Ears pricked for any slurring of speech, he worked quickly and steadily, anxiety eased by the predictability of medical routine.

The content of the discussion, however, proved far more alarming. Naturally when beasts were in such a state as these it was only going to be logical that there had been something significant: the details were quite something. Guards, fights, beasts brave enough to take crossbow bolts for those they hardly knew...A pang of aspirational jealously fluttered in his chest as he worked. What was such bravery like?

"There," he murmured quietly once the bolt was free, discarding it at once as he set about inspecting the wound, preparing the same methods as Yfanti. "Alright, it was deep - you're going to feel this for a while, but it didn't strike anything so major that you'll never recover. We need to flush this out well then pack it. It's going to be uncomfortable but nothing a beast like you can't handle, eh?" Once again he set about the work, glancing to the mustelids as he did so. "You've both had quite the day, from the sounds of it. I hope this isn't just business as usual for either of you."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden grunted as Berchar began to flush out the wound. "It used to be. I had hoped to avoid this kind of thing these days, but I suppose I was asking for it, stepping footpaw in the Slups." He glanced at Aiken, giving the stoat a critical once-over.

"Tell me if it's none of my business, but what were you doing in the Slups? You don't seem the type." He let out a hiss and nearly twitched away from the doctor, the jerboa's work having hit a particularly painful spot. The marten managed a short, dry laugh at his own expense. "'Gates, Berchar. Don't you think that's clean enough?"

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

Aiken stepped back slightly, giving space to Berchar so he could work on Caden’s injury. He hadn't the stomach for medical work, and the look and sound of pain did little for it.

Still nearby when the questions came his way, he did his best to stand tall and look professional.

“My job, of course.”

No matter the straightness of his back, he seemed flustered, a battle with reluctance playing out on his features before he could continue.

“It’s not so much the usual for me, I admit. But sometimes it’s necessary to go into these places. I was following a lead on a story I’ve been working on for the Smelt when… well, when things got a little more real than I’d have liked.”

The latter words carried more of the shrinking doubt he’d exuded earlier, but there was still a glint of pride in the stoat’s eyes.

“Oh? Who is it you’re trying to run out of business this time, Aiken?”

Yfanti spoke up from the other side of the room, cleaning her blood-stained paws in a wash bucket. Her voice had been neutral, but it was clear from Aiken’s response there were barbs beneath her tone.

“I already apologized, and issued a retraction. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

The white-furred ferret dried her paws on a cloth, adjusting her glasses as she finally turned to face him again.

“Some of the business from before would be nice. Speaking of which, am I to guess you’ll be paying for this on credit?”

Aiken's whiskers twitched in indignation, but he didn't immediately respond.

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Glancing between stoat and ferret, Caden quirked his brow at the pair's interaction. At the comment regarding payment, he raised his paw on his uninjured arm. "Credit won't be necessary. I'll gladly pay you for your assistance. I have some gilders on me that can serve as an advance in good faith, and if you care to make an invoice, I can see it paid by tomorrow." He turned carefully to the jerboa, being sure not to move the shoulder the doctor was currently working on.

"The offer extends to you as well. I'm very grateful for your help."

 

[Berchar Fleetfoot]

He shot Caden a wry, amused smirk as he cleaned the wound, the expression communicating enough as he let the marten continue to conversation. It remained a good sign: uncomfortable as it surely must be, and deep as the wound was, it would heal. How well would depend on how much trouble the marten managed to steer clear of. In a city like this? That would prove the challenge.

Though he kept his head down and eyes focused on the work as he prepped the packing, Berchar couldn't help a soft snort and expression of distaste. He detested living in the Slups: it was a good enough question to ask why any beast would voluntarily set paw in there. It was only the jerboa's propensity for cowardice and ability to jump over the heads of the shorter beasts that he had managed not to find himself as another victim of the city's most deprived district.

He couldn't resist a quick glance to Aiken whilst he replied. So the stoat was a Smelt reporter. Intrigue crossed his face for a moment and he wondered exactly what story could be worth the chasing, when Yfanti's interjection alluded to far more personal matters. The jerboa was content not to speak at all until Caden addressed him. "Oh! oh, no, that's quite alright," idiot, it's free money. "I, ah, well I was coming to get new supplies anyway. Afraid you're making use of the last of this lot. Still, it's better made use of." He nodded of Yfanti, then. "Though perhaps I'd consider a coin or two towards that brandy. Now then, I just have to pack and dress the wound. Won't be a very comfortable process but it should be quick enough."

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil slowly stirred back to consciousness. He'd been having a lovely dream; he was having dinner with his mother, catching up with her, telling her all about his life, everything he'd done, and she'd smiled and held his paw, and given him a hug when the mean was done, telling him how proud she was of him. It had been a delightful fantasy, and now, coming back from it, Daniil found the experience of waking up to find his side stitched together and his uniform irreparably ruined to be a jarring contrast. He picked up on a discussion about payment for services, and he weakly raised the paw on his good side. "Coin pouch," he managed. "My belt. Take it." There wasn't a large amount of coin there; he knew that only great fools traveled the streets of Bully Harbor with huge amounts of wealth. Hopefully it would be enough of a deposit to satisfy his saviors.

 

[Aiken Brudenell]

Aiken stayed silent, embarrassed as the others offered to pay, but unwilling or unable to find words for himself.

For her part, Yfanti sighed. It was clear she hadn't expected the others to offer to pay instead.

"Don't fall over yourselves - it's not much, just a few gilders for the laudanum. The rest is easily replaced."

Still, the offers had been made, and she followed up on Daniil's in particular, given he was the closest, without a beast working on him at the moment.

With the same nimble claws she'd used to sew shut his wound, the ferret pulled loose the fox's coin pouch. More than that, though, the motion brought the knife at his side up and out of its sheath, its blood-spattered blade coming loose, perhaps even enough to fall from its holstering.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

Daniil caught sight of the blade from the edge of his vision, and his paw fumbled for it a bit before managing to grasp it by the handle and lift it for inspection. His eyes widened as he saw the bloody blade, and tears brimmed in the corners. "I'm sorry Mum," he choked out, clutching the blade flat against his chest. "'Gates, I'm sorry."

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden shut his eyes and nodded as the doctor explained the next steps of the process to patch up his wound. "The offer stands," he said, referring to payment. "I'll at least give you what I have on me. It's the least I can--"

Daniil's offer cut him off, and Caden cracked open an eye to watch as Yfanti went for the coin pouch in his belt. He flinched, which could have been a reaction to Berchar's work or to the knife coming loose. As Daniil grabbed for the weapon and pulled it to his chest, Caden clenched his jaw and closed his eyes again. He needed to leave sooner rather than later, get some air and try to clear his head.

"Once you're done with me, I'll go to the Ministry of War, see if I can find Daniil's cousin," Caden said. "I'm sure he can help get him to Pyrostoat."

 

[Berchar Fleetfoot]

“Whatever you need to do. Quite right, though: I’d not go lifting anything yourself for a while.”

The rambling of the semi-conscious fox had captured the jerboa’s curiosity as he worked, but he made no comment and if he seemed to take notice he gave little indication. The goings on which had brought these beasts here were clearly dangerous; Berchar was a timid soul at best and reticent to get himself dragged into whatever chaos stalked these beasts. It seemed to be part of any faction led to danger. Furthermore he didn’t voice it, but instinct still ran deep in him: a woodlander in a room of predator species beasts was…always unnerving, to say the least. He did not want to risk ire by overstepping with curiosity.

Regardless of chaos or danger, he had a duty of care and his patient was holding up admirably. The packing done, he started dressing Caden’s wound with swift efficiency. “There,” he murmured, “all done. You’re a fit strong beast: provided you take good care of it and don’t rush the process, it should heal well. I – if you ever should have need my services again you can usually find me around the Slups. Always a pleasure to help.” He cast a quick glance to Aiken, offering an awkward little smile. “Any of you.”

 

[Caden S. Freemont]

"Much appreciated." Caden nodded to the jerboa and carefully stood. He went to his bag and fished out a pouch of gilders. Upending the pouch on an open portion of shelf, he tilted his head towards the contents. "For supplies and services. Thank you again, Yfanti and Berchar."

With a wince, he slung his bag over his good shoulder. He would cut an interesting figure, walking through the Harbor shirtless and with dried blood crusted to his white fur, but once he reached the Ministry of War he hoped he could find a spare shirt to don. The marten stepped beside the table where Daniil lay. He placed a paw gently on the todd's arm, gaze flicking over the blade clutched to Daniil's chest.

"Daniil," he said softly. "I'm going to the Ministry of War and will fetch somebeast who can take you to Pyrostoat. Is there anything you need before I go?"