Expedition The Urk Expedition: Waterlogged

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn was overjoyed to hear Morgan's voice croak out from the corner. The young kit, however, was taking after Barrett, and didn't look up from his work. No distractions, especially when working with sharp tools. He did have to pause for a chuckle at Morgan's joke, though. The humor broke the tension, and set him at ease.

"Sorry Ms. Waverunner..." he said apologetically, quickly pulling his damp cloth away from the wound he was cleaning. Barrett had talked with him about causing pain while treating patients. Sometimes it was unavoidable, and this... this was one of those times, wasn't it? Recovering his nerve, the foxkit returned to her wounds, carefully wiping the blood away so he could see.

A more experienced surgeon would have worked much more quickly to clear the fur -- Finn, however, needed more time. He would have been devastated if he accidentally nicked a patient, adding to their injuries. Kneeling on the table behind Ralynn, he continued his work, steadying himself with a paw on her shoulder.

There was a certain confidence you needed with a straight razor. Finn had learned through practicing on his forearm that too much pressure would cause razor burn -- but too little would mean more passes, and the same result. With smooth strokes, Finn started at the edge of the wounds, and drew the knife away with a measured flick.

Sitting back, he surveyed the area, and looked over to the pine marten. "Ok, Ms. Waverunner is ready Mr. Barrett..."

 

[Greeneye]

Greeneye glowered at Arthur. He knew the doc was right, but he could tell Arthur wasn't speaking his mind about something. He just wasn't sure what.

Suddenly, there was a loud yelp, and Silvertongue started to twist and turn in his hammock.

"Oh, Hells... not now." Greeneye turned to Arthur with a worried look. "He's got dem night terrors, Doc. Every time he goes to sleep, he screams 'n' cries. Though it usually don't happen this quick."

Greeneye tried to stand up, but he winced as he put weight on his leg and he slumped back down. "Nope. Can't do dat quite yet."

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma tried to smile back at Morgan, at her joke. It was hard, given the circumstances, given how cold and tired she still felt. But it was easier to meet the ferret’s eyes than looking back at the tubing sticking out of her.

“Yer i-impossible, mate.”

Before she knew, the surgeon was with her, taking her wet blanket to scuff her dry with a towel. She made a soft squeak – something undignified – given her surprise, and perhaps in muted protest for his remark at her having gotten herself in this situation.

“I-I’ll ‘ave ye know, it was on the Captain’s or-orders, Doc.”

There wasn’t anything to complain about for the toweling off, though. She could feel the ice cold water rubbed from her fur, warmth returning with the friction. In the moment, there wasn't even any embarrassment for the fact her thankfully dry clothes weren't yet on her body again.

“’ad t’get Silvie’s hat from the waters… ‘n a few other things.”

She looked over at the resting fox, just in time to see Greeneye try to make for his hammock, with predictable results.

The weasel winced, well as she could with her teeth still chattering occasionally.

"'ope they're both alright..."

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

The beleaguered Captain of the Hide, carefully holding his small silver chest as he descended down into the warmer depths of the ship, made his way to the infirmary, half his face bloody from the superficial spear wound that would have taken off his head had he not still had decent reaction time for a beast his age. He shook his head. Thirty years ago, even ten, that bastard shrew would have never nicked him, but everybeast was subject to the ravages of time, even him. He was just lucky, through arduous practice, he had kept his up skills with both of his blades. If he had not, Silvertongue would have been held captive or worse. He hoped that Vihmastaja had been able to reclaim his wakizashi, even for a Duke such an Auldarian steel weapon was not so easily replaced, and one day, when he was gone, he hoped Alwyn would inherit it. Even if he disdained his Fyadoran ancestral weapons, he could at least rework the precious metal into a weapon suiting him.

After this is over, I will see about the Empress recalling him to Bully Harbor. The family needs additional help now, and now he has gotten to know the Brudenells and their character, should the need ever arrive to...pass further judgment...on them.

Stepping into the infirmary, small specks of blood still dripping from his facial fur onto the floor, he nodded at Barrett respectfully. The pine marten was skilled, even if Talinn had to instruct him via Silvertongue on a more efficient way to handle beasts with hypothermia when it had come to Morgan earlier. He did not blame the mustelid, however, because that knowledge had been paid for with experiments that were not, strictly speaking, in accordance with the medical ethics taught at Pyrostoat, Length, or, even, perhaps, what the Minister of Justice might consider malpractice. But it had saved lives on this trip, and so would the other things he held in the silver box.

“Surgeon Barret,” he asked, voice formal and respectful as he glanced across the room, “how are our patients? We should have proper heat back on relatively soon, thank the Empress.”

Although he was the Minister of Innovation, he did not pretend to know more than the Surgeon on medical matters unless he had been specifically instructed by his own scientific advisors. He was, if anything, more an administrator than a subject matter expert, something that had been needed more with the increased role Innovation had in the new Imperium. But from what he could tell at a glance, Morgan seemed the worse off, clinging to life through some sort of tube stuck into her, Silvertongue seemed to be recovering if having some kind of night terrors, Greeneye seemed about ready to get up and move to comfort him despite his wounds, Finnian was busy with Ralynn who seemed to be taking being ministered to well. He also caught a glance of that all-too-familiar ferret, shivering under a blanket, but seeming fine. She probably wondered why he had her suffer so much just for some hats and a dagger, but he would have time to explain that to her later on, and question her about her origins.

 

[Arthur Barrett]

Barrett's face cracked into a wry smile as the captain walked into his infirmary. Paradoxically, this was authority Arthur could tolerate. The captain delegated. He didn't specify how something was to be accomplished, only that it should be accomplished. The administrators back in the civillian world never seemed to grasp this -- and would try to push treatment like they pushed pencils. Barrett despised them, and had grown skeptical and bitter of all authority over the years.

Captain Ryalor, on the other hand, reminded him of the early days of the Winter War. He'd given plenty of leeway for Arthur to operate, and freed him from the shackles of bureaucracy. For that, he was greatful. And yet -- there he was, thanking the empress for the work of other beasts on the ship. It was expected of a minister, of course, to pay homage to the empress. Barrett supposed he was trying to set an example for the crew... but even he pondered at the captain's... ...complicated history. Did the empress's ears truly reach this far?

Arthur didn't mind Greeneye's glower. Like Talinn's fealty, it was the requisite emotion -- and told Arthur that his words had the desired affect. The yelp from Silvie made him jump. Even though he quickly realized what it was, the pitiful cry caught him off guard and unsettled him. Collecting himself, he turned to answer the captain's question.

"One critical -- but improving nicely. Two getting stitched up -- and three now with minor injuries..." he said with a slight pause, regarding the captain's head wound. Just from a glimpse, it seemed to be a trivial laceration, but he would have to inspect it. "You must permit me to look at your brow, sir?" Finishing off with Vihma, he courteously draped a blanket over her shoulders, and took her towel. Briskly, he bundled it, and tossed it towards the pile of wet things.

He'd have offered the captain a place to sit -- but Talinn was the type that preferred to be on his feet. Drawing near, Arthur waited for the captain to allow him to examine the wound, and took the opportunity to look at the silver chest in his paws. Clearly it was something of value, but beyond his purview at the moment.

"Putting off your visit to the Dark Forest, I see?" he mused warmly, affectionately chiding the captain for his carelessness. "You won't be offended if I have young Finnian take care of you? Officer Waverunner is in need of stitches..."

But of course, the captain wouldn't protest such a thing. Everyone was fond of Finn. Taking his leave, Barrett crossed the infirmary to fetch his bottle of laudanum from the locked cupboard. He frowned as he regarded how little there was left. Moving rather quickly through this one... Crossing to Officer Waverunner, Barrett offered her several drops on her tongue. "To take the edge off..."

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

Talinn dutifully listened to Barrett, his eyes taking in the situation, and he was relieved to see that no beasts of his had died so far, a rarity for the Hide engaged in combat, although not for a lack of trying on their part. He wanted to sigh. He had not ordered Morgan to jump in while arrows were still being rained down on the Shrews and do whatever crazy thing she had by dragging him under the hull, nor Greeneye to attack the shrews in a borderline suicidal maneuver, or Ralynn to do what she had done, but he did not have the time to explain to them their mistakes or soothe the ruffled feathers that often came with such. And, in a way, the tight bond he had noticed being formed between many of the crew members was a good thing, for the most part. He just hoped it did not cost them or the Imperium too much in the future.

Resisting an urge to shake his head, he instead let out a rare small, rueful laugh and cracked a slight smile at Barrett as he moved over towards the young foxkit to get stitched up, moving over to a nearby table and setting the box carefully down upon it.

“I’m afraid it’s ‘Gates for me if what a lot of beasts say about me is true,” he pondered, putting a paw up and rubbing his chin “but every beast has to believe they are decent, no? But yes, I am afraid I will have to put off my visit to Vulpuz for a while yet.”

Talinn gave a nod over to the wounded crewbeasts, addressing them in a brief, but respectful manner as Finnian cleaned the blood off his face, carefully phrasing his words as he did so.

“You were all very brave today, and I am glad that you are all okay. You’re in good hands with Surgeon Barrett, and maybe some things I have brought along can help with your recovery, or, if you are feeling eager to return to service, enable you to do so without your injuries being quite as much of a handicap for a time.”

He motioned for Barrett to come forward as Finnian finished cleaning the wound.

“I would explain some of these items to you, if you would, Surgeon, while you or young Finnian here stitch me up.”

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

DISCLAIMER: I am borrowing the song 'The Underworld' from Epic The Musical. If you want to skip past the song sequence, look for the words SKIP HERE in big bold red text.​

---

Meanwhile, Silvertongue tossed and turned in the throes of his night terrors, letting out the occasional loud yelp. There would be no comforting him, as these were no ordinary nightmares one could easily wake from. He would have to suffer through the ordeal on his own.

Within the depths of his mind, Silvertongue was having a very vivid and strange dream. Although he frequently experienced them, this night-terror was unlike the others. The young fox found himself standing at the bow of a longship, with about a dozen vermin manning the oars. Former companions from his time on the pirate ship Sea King. They all stared at him expectantly. The ship sat perfectly still in a river with no current, a barren landscape stretching infinitely in every direction.

“Erm… Full speed ahead?” He suggested.

“Full speed ahead!” They repeated, almost lifeless, taking the oars and rowing the ship down the river.

Silvertongue swallowed uneasily, feeling a lump forming in his throat as he looked around. There were no landmarks to go off of, so he had no way of knowing how far they had gone when suddenly he spotted the only interesting thing around. A tall stone wall that seemed to pierce the clouds, with metal spikes adorning its battlements. The longship stopped at an iron gate within the river, and a strange figure was sitting on the water's edge next to a lever. It was neither woodlander nor vermin, instead some horrifying mass of shadow in the shape of a creature. It stared at Silvertongue with bright white eyes.

“Hail, and well met!” Silvertongue called out to the creature. “Could you explain where exactly we’re at?”

“Must I explain this every time we meet?” The being seemed unimpressed, even a bit annoyed. “I am Xerxes, gatekeeper of the Underworld. This is the entrance to the Underworld. Where all creatures reside after death until it is determined whether they are to go to the Dark Forest or Hellgates.”

Silvertongue just nodded as Xerxes explained this, dumbfounded. “Xerxes, Sir, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m almost certain that I’m not dead.”

“I know that, you nitwit. You are, unfortunately, being granted access to the Underworld. There is a powerful seer who is awaiting you on the other side. Though I doubt you will make it to them, you have failed every previous attempt.” Xerxes said.

“Hold on… how many times have I tried to do this? Also, what seer do you speak of? The only one I know is Madame Lorelei, and she is also still alive.”

“The Underworld is dangerous, and it will play tricks on your mind. You will hear the voices of your friends and family who have passed, but you must ignore them at all costs. Until you find the seer." Having ignored Silvertongue's questions and speaking his piece, Xerxes pulled the lever, and the gate slowly started to rise. He then floated away and disappeared into the mist.

“Wait!” Silvertongue had more questions, but Xerxes was already gone. He sighed and turned to the vermin rowers.

“Friends, Xerxes instructions were clear. No matter what we hear:”
“Full speed ahead! Until we find the prophet!”

Silvertongue turned to face the gate as it gave way to the supposed Underworld before them.

“My comrades, this land confuses your mind, so no matter who we find:”
“Full speed ahead! Until we find the prophet!”

“Good.” Silvertongue nodded as the rowers started to move the ship past the gate. The land went from a gray and barren wasteland to a massive ocean, the sky a sickly green color, and the water black as night.

All around them were spirits. Some were floating in the water, some were flying through the air, and some were even on spectral ships or boats of their own, but all of them were wailing and gnashing their teeth. The most horrifying thing of all, however, was that once the ship passed into the Underworld, all the vermin aboard the longship started to decay, shedding their skin and flesh, blood spilling from their bodies and spilling out onto the deck, seeping into the wood, until only their skeletons remained. Yet, still, they rowed, staring forward with empty eye-sockets.

Silvertongue grimaced, and he closed his eyes, covering his ears, but nothing could drown them out. He heard a drum beating to keep the rowers in sync, so he started to sing:

“All I hear are screams, every time I dare to close my eyes
I no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died
Nothing's what it seems-!”

“Nothing’s what it seems.” The rowers sang along with Silvertongue, still rowing to the beat.
“And here in the Underworld, the past seems close behind."
"This land confuses your mind!” They repeated the same ominous warning that Xerxes had given.

Silvertongue looked out at the endless expanse of water, suddenly seeing hundreds of souls approaching the ship. They surrounded the boat, but they seemed unable to get into it.

“When does a todd become a monster?
Five hundred beasts of our crew, who died all because of you!”

Silvertongue sees a vision appear in the air of a battlefield littered with bodies. He sees himself, with his rapier drawn, facing off against an imposing badger with blood-red eyes. He sees himself turn and run off into the darkness. He shook his head. It happened just as he remembered it going.

“Silver! Silver! Silver! Silver!
Why would you let the badger live?
When ruthlessness is mercy!”

Silvertongue turned away, singing again to drown them out.

“All I hear are screams, every time I dare to close my eyes.”
“I no longer dream, only nightmares of those who've died."
“Nothing's what it seems.”
“But in the Underworld, the past seems close behind... I keep thinking of the battle on that night, I keep thinking of the battle on that night.”*

Silvertongue plopped down against the rail of the ship, holding his head, trying desperately to think about anything else when suddenly he heard the familiar strings of his lute..?

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms.”

“Grandfather…” Silvertongue gasped, standing up and peering out over the waters. He saw the spectral form of an old black fox wearing a tricorn hat, clothed in a black bard doublet and pantaloons.

“Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart.
No matter the place, we can light up the world
Here's how to start:”

Silvertongue suddenly sees a vision of himself as a child, holding out his arms as his grandfather hands him the lute.

“Greet the world with open arms,
Greet the world with open arms.”

The specter of his grandfather faded away as the ship continued deeper into the Underworld.

“Grandfather…” Silvertongue held out his hand for a moment before stopping himself. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. He turned back to the front and saw a floating island in the distance, with a few dead trees and a ramshackle hut near the shore. This had to be the prophet.

“Waiting…” A wavery female voice echoed across the waters, and Silvertongues' heart dropped into his chest.

“That voice, it can’t be…”

“Waiting…” A little rowboat bobbed into view, rowed by a skeletal rat, and the other occupant was the ghostly form of a vixen, wearing a blue silk gown and holding an umbrella over her head.

“Mom?” He didn’t want to believe his eyes; he didn’t want it to be true. He knew it wasn't true- and yet here she was before him.

“Waiting,
My Silvertongue, when you come home, I’ll be waiting
Even if you’re the last thing I see, I’ll be waiting....”

Silvertongue walked along the sides of the ship, his eyes fixated on his mother.

“I’m right here, Mom-”
“Waiting…”
“Can’t you see I’m-”
“Waiting..."*

Silvertongue bit his lip and took his hat from his head, unable to look away from her.

“I took too long..”
“I'll always love you.”
“And ventured too far…”
“I'll stay in your heart.”
“While you were-”
“Waiting, Waiting, Waiting..."*

He could only watch helplessly as the rowboat drifted across the lake, further and further away. “Bye, Mom…”

He looked at the floating island. He was so close, but he turned away, running towards the back of the ship and diving into the black waters. Immediately, he felt dozens of paws clawing at his chest, arms, and legs, but he fought them off. Looking down, Silvertongue was horrified to see the specters had morphed into that of his new crewmates. Morgan, Vihma, Ralynn, and even Talinn.

“All I hear are screams! Every time I dare to close my eyes!"* He shouted, still hoping his singing would protect him.

“All I hear are screams!" The specters surrounding him mimicked his words as they tried to drag him under the water.

Silvertongue desperately tried to paddle after his mother.

“I no longer dream-”
“I no longer dream!”
“Only nightmares of those who died!”
“Nothing’s what it seems!”*
“Nothing’s what it seems!”

The rowboat was getting further away, and Silvertongues strength was failing him. The specters surrounded him, pushing him under the water. He struggled to the surface, hearing one last eerie chant from the spirits before he was dragged down into the depths:

“But in the Underworld, your past is always close behind!
Your past is always close behind!
Down in the Underworld!”

*Note, mixed color text are two or more characters singing in unison

---

SKIP HERE​

Silvertongue shot up with a sharp gasp, clutching his chest. He looked around at the room, his eyes resting on each injured beast. Greeneye with multiple bandages wrapped around his arms, legs, and waist. Ralynn getting stitched up, Talinn bleeding from his head, and Morgan- Morgan with some horrible tube sticking from her chest.

Silvertongue then took the time to check his own body for injuries, only to find none. He trembled and started to weep, tears flowing fast and freely down his cheeks.

"It's all my fault!" He choked out through his cries. "I alone am responsible for the sordid state of affairs that have befallen us now!"

He tried to stop his tears, but it was in vain. "All of this would not have happened if I hadn't foolishly pranced about on the rails! What a wretched beast I must be, that you have all been injured for my sake!"

He stared at his paws once more. "The Blessed Saints may have smiled on me, but in doing so they have doubled- no, tripled my troubles and passed them to all of you. Here I lay, unbesmirched, while your bodies are marred with the wounds of war. I do not deserve to have such a mercy bestowed upon me when I am the one who caused all of this in the first place!"

Silvertongue hung his head in shame, still trembling from the cold, but now equally so in embarrassment. "I am a truly terrible burden to you, my friends, and I can do nothing save to beg your forgiveness for my idiocy."

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan spoke up, her voice still a hoarse croak. "Don't beat yerself up, Silv. I'd a' done it fer anyone. 'Sides, I shoulda known they were up t' no good. 'At's on me." She coughed, the tube in her chest gurgling unpleasantly.

 

[Arthur Barrett]

Finn was a little bit short, and the captain stood head and shoulders above him. Hopping up on the nearest surface, the fox kit fetched some gauze to tend to the captain's wound, and dabbed some of the blood away from his cheek to get a better look at things. "Aww this doesn't seem to be too bad! Those shrews'r too slow to hit a fox like you!" he said with a playful grin. The foxkit tried to hold the gauze to the wound -- which... after unsuccessfully mushing it in the captain's face, Finn decided it would be easier to ask Talinn to do it himself. "Can you hold this here? Just until the bleeding stops."

Meanwhile, Barrett worked pleasantly on Ralynn's injuries. The easy laugh he managed to produce from Talinn seemed to ease the mood in the infirmary momentarily. You see? That's what's wonderful about working out here. People have a sense of humor, thought Barrett. Dark remarks about Vulpuz in front of patients would have been the poorest of forms back on Vulpinsula, and would have gotten him reprimanded. But out here on the fringes of society -- beasts didn't have to beat around the bush, and gallows humor had a place. Arthur didn't visibly react to the confidence Talinn expressed in his abilities, but internally he was glowing. He snugged the last stitch tight on Ralynn's injuries, before covering her with a warm blanket.

"Now, let's see about that cheek..." he said, crossing the infirmary as the captain beckoned him closer. Imperceptibly, the pine marten's fur bristled as Talinn set his silver box down on the table. While he knew that the Minister had access to certain medicines and... other things that he did not, something about the little silver box unsettled him, and he couldn't put a finger on it. But before he could speak, a mournful wail came from the corner of the room. The pine marten cast an eye to Silvie's hammock -- emotional outbursts weren't uncommon in the infirmary. While generally harmless, some times they had unintended consequences. In this case, Arthur was primarily concerned about Greeneye trying to make his way over to comfort Silvie, and having to scrape the rat off the floor.

Knowingly, Arthur glanced over at Talinn. Do you want to take this one, or should I? he asked with a mere glance. But it was apparent the captain had something to say, and Arthur yielded to him.

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

Talinn relaxed as Finnian cheerfully moved to attend to the wound on his cheek. Something about the kit soothed him and smoothed out his rough edges, and he was a good little todd. Again, for some reason, he was reminded of a young Alwyn, back on Westisle before the Revolutions of 1748 and his uncle had destroyed plans of their family ever finding true peace. Keeping that thought inside, he replied to Finnian, matching the kit’s energy, something even Dusk, he think, would have found surprising he was still capable of. Patting Finn on the head, he replied as he held the gauze to the facial wound.

“You should have seen me when I was younger, Finnian, this would not have happened at all! Daresay I myself would have jumped down and dispatched all those dastardly shrews single-pawed. Unfortunately, age punishes us all. Why-”

Talinn’s peaceful mood was distracted by Silvertongue waking up, which would have been good, except that his young aide immediately started bawling his eyes out, throwing the infirmary into chaos with his misplaced blame and self-loathing. Already, he could see Morgan struggling to comfort him, Greeneye squirming, and soon likely the other beasts who would be likely to reopen their wounds. He did not have time for this today, there were so many things to prepare. He suppressed a frown.

It is not uncommon for soldiers, especially one as young and inexperienced as him, to experience this after their first few battles. That and his squirming or the ‘night terrors’ as the beasts here seem to call it, seems to be common, even more so among veterans these days. No permanent, easy cure for that, at least as far as we have discovered, but I do have something that can help, for now. I could try to calm him down regularly, but that would take far too much time, and I need him to be a good little aide and rest so that he is able to be on Urk proper tomorrow.

“Aide Silvertongue Songfox!” He boomed, voice authoritative and firm as he flipped open the silver chest, removing a small white vial with a label from it, then marched over to his wailing aide, whom he hoped his sharp address would allow him to focus, towering over him. Then, he knelt down, holding the vial in his paw, voice calmer and kinder, as he spoke more softly.

“Finnian, if you would bring Silvertongue something to drink, water, specifically. Silvertongue, you are fine. No one blames you for what those uncivilized barbarians did, after all, there was never any real hope of negotiating with those savages to begin with as Morgan proved with her mastery of their language." He held the vial up, so that all the beasts could see the fine white powder “I brought some things from the Ministry, truly cutting edge, to help in these situations. Cerebrum lapideum, designed to help with the nerves, seizures, and beasts who have a hard time sleeping. Very costly, so only to be used when strictly necessary*, but I have been assured it is completely safe to use** as prescribed.”

He paused, glancing over at Barrett, before he continued, as he took the cup of water the dutiful Finnian handed him, and poured the vial into it, swirling it around a little bit before offering it to Silvertongue.

“Drink, Silvertongue, that is an order! Do not worry, everything will feel better soon, you should start feeling the effects in as little as ten minutes.”

Turning back to Barrett, he continued.

“It is very important that he is to take no alcohol of any form, or any other sedative, including laudanum, for a period of twelve hours, preferably one day, otherwise, the side effects could be unpredictable and unpleasant***.”

*Talinn, of course, is a massive hypocrite, regularly taking it himself, defining "strictly necessary" as "whenever he feels like it", which may not end up well in the future.

** By Imperium medical standards, such as they are.

***As he would know from painful experience.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue faltered slightly as Talinn's voice boomed out. He felt embarrassed about his outburst. He looked warily at the.... medicine? That Talinn had brought him. He had never seen nor heard of anything like it before now. But, he wasn't about to disobey an order. So, Silvertongue took the cup of water, and he drank all of it down, shuddering from the strange sour taste of the medicine mixed in.

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Finn was always put in a good mood when he could help people -- especially when he saw a visible improvement in their demeanor. The world could be a cruel and hard place, and an easy smile made his efforts seem worthwhile. The foxkit drank in the captain's tale with delight, a grin plastered over his face as he reveled in the idea of a younger Talinn leaping boat-to-boat, bumping off shrews. (Though funnily enough, he'd yet to learn a woodlander had done just that!)

Silvie's cry of anguish caught everyone by shock, but Finn was doubly surprised with the captain's sudden shift towards... anger? It took Finn a few seconds to piece together what was going on, but before he could make the connection, Talinn had orders for him. "S-sir!" he smartly replied, leaping off the table, and scurrying over to the faucets to fetch Silv a warm glass of water. The fox kit quickly drew up to Silvie's side with the cup, and offered it to the captain. With great curiosity, he watched the process. He'd seen Barrett mix up various poultices before -- and they always had an amber and herbal look to them... but this medicine looked... unlike the others.

 

[Arthur Barrett]

Meanwhile, Arthur looked on with arms folded across his chest. He didn't particularly appreciate Talinn wrestling control of the infirmary from him like that. It was one of the things that had driven him from the hospitals on shore. But then again, the captain had sweat and bled for his crew. Arthur could make exception for that -- it was more than anyone back on shore had done.

Crossing to Greeneye, the pine martin put a heavy paw on his bare shoulder, and gently pursuaded him to lie down. Barrett would give the rat plenty of time to do so on his own volition, but the firm pressure meant he didn't have an option. "Easy now, Mr. Greeneye. Do you trust us to take care of Mr. Songfox?" he murmured soothingly.

 

[Greeneye]

Greeneye looked between Barrett and Talinn, glowering at them both. He didn't like any of this at all. He had always been the one to be by Silvertongue's side. Who were any of this beasts to stand between him and his mate? HIS mate.

No one else cared. They might be pretending to care, simply because it's convenient to have Silvertongue around. His tail whipped back and forth behind him in his anger as he stewed in his own suspicions and self-righteous anger. They didn't care like he did. They didn't understand the pain Silvertongue has been feeling for all these years.

The night terrors were nothing new, Greeneye had spent many nights awake, soothing Silvertongue as best he could. But no, these beasts, they'd rather just force some strange medicine down his throat to shut him up. It made him furious. But Greeneye knew he was too hurt to do anything. He settled back down. As soon as this little contract of theirs was over, Greeneye had no intention of staying.

His mind wandered to his father. The pirates that were chasing them, these beasts would be useful in getting rid of them, that much he would give them credit for. Other than that, he wasn't too thrilled about any of this navy business.

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

“That’s a good lad,” Talinn encouraged, putting his paw on Silvertongue’s shoulder comfortingly, as he had done to many soldiers before. It had been a long time since he had been in direct command, but visiting the sick and encouraging them was crucial to maintaining morale, and he actually liked his aide, much as he made him do his busywork “you’ll be feeling soon well enough. Just lie down and keep warm. It will really help the nerves, and if you sleep, it will be deep and peaceful enough you will not have to worry about anything. Just do not make a habit of taking this.*”

Turning around, he glanced at the rest of the crew, giving him mixed reactions between the simmering anger of Greeneye, the mild irritation of Arthur, and the little bit of fear of Finnian. He wanted to scream. Try to do a good thing, Talinn, and everyone will hate you for it. Did they even have the slightest comprehension how expensive it was to make what he gave Silvertongue, in more ways than one?

Glancing over towards Finnian, he spoke, voice calmer and meant to soothe the young kit’s fear.

“Do not worry, young Finnian, as I said, it is not harmful to him**. In the cases of battleshock or anxiety, it is something of a godsend, but the supply is very limited, so only the finest warships and most elite sections of the military will be getting it in the future.”

Turning towards Greeneye and Barrett, he nodded at both the simmering rat and Arthur.

“The surgeon’s right, Deckswab Greeneye. He will be fine, if a bit tired, you will see, and when you are able to be moved, perhaps Barrett will allow you to sit next to him."

Turning to the rest of the small silver chest, he gave a deferential, apologetic nod to Barrett. He knew not to step on the shoes of other beasts unless he had to.

“If you would, I have two more new innovations to explain, whose administration I will leave up to you, of course. Forgive me, but my aide seemed to have needed immediate assistance.”

Getting permission from the pine marten, he continued, picking up a blue vial, similarly a powder.

“Lecur Ferro, it dulls the pain and stimulates the body to allow one to continue fighting, even if exhausted or grievously wounded, for a time, also expensive. Similar to the previous medication, one is not to mix alcohol with it, and after its use has expired, a beast will need to rest. It delays such needed rest, it does not eliminate it, and the larger the dose, the more the beast will have to rest. Not recommended for elderly beasts unless it is truly dire.”

Finally, he carefully picked up a single vial, this time a golden liquid, that almost seemed to shine in the light of the infirmary. Talinn seemed to hold it extremely carefully, much more so than the other two.

“Finally, Corda Aurea. The production of this is…” Talinn trailed off, trying to figure out a way to phrase it. “not reliable, very difficult, and each vial more precious than anyone here can imagine, even more than all the doses of the other two combined. If the ship is going down, this is the one medicine to take with you. It is to be administered only when a beast is dying or a little while after death, when every other option is exhausted. It needs to be injected with a needle or syringe, directly to the heart. It can bring them back long enough for another chance to stabilize or treat them.”

He paused, looking at the golden liquid swirling around in the vial, face taking on something of a darker look.

“But the potential adverse reactions can be…” his voice drifting off into a quieter, almost hushed tone. “...harsh and unpredictable. After using it, depending on factors even the brightest medical minds the Imperium has to offer cannot begin to quantify, they can become...different...for some time. Some make full recoveries after a period of time, others...well, at least they are alive.”

Carefully placing the vial of corda back next to its two sisters, he carefully shut the case, leaving it on the table. Nodding at Barrett, he spoke once more, tone normal.

“When you can, I believe young Finnian has cleaned me up well enough, so you may examine it and do your work. I have much to attend to, so if every other beast is fine…” he trailed off.

*Of course, Talinn does, but there will be consequences later...

**To him...not necessarily the other beasts involved in its production.

 

[Arthur Barrett]

Barrett didn't like how Greeneye dodged his question, or the furious look in his eyes. (...err, eye.) The rat's passion for his friend was bordering on a consuming -- no, self immolating passion. The pine marten wanted to escalate the confrontation to sort of shock Greeneye out of his anger, similarly to how Talinn had done to Silvie. And yet, Greeneye managed to keep his anger contained. Perhaps it was best to let this one lie. Barrett pulled the warm blanket further up over the rat, tucking him in slightly in hopes that the extra warmth would help him rest more easily.

Meanwhile, Finn looked up understandingly at the captain, and his tail gave a little cheerful wag. No, Talinn wasn't a volatile beast... he just had to regain control of the situation. Finn could remember his own father doing such things on occasion -- b ut goodness, it was an unpleasant business. The kit lingered by Silvie for a few moments longer, and rested a paw on his shoulder. The Songfox had taken good care of him ever since the day he arrived on the ship, and had gone to great lengths to welcome him and make him feel a part of the crew. While Silv had no visible injuries, it hurt to see such a brave fox like him crumpled in a hammock.

"...so how bad did that taste, huh?" he asked, attempting a playful smile. Finn would have tried to ruffle between Silv's ears... but that seemed a gesture more aimed at younger kits, and would have been inappropriate for him to do to an officer. The fox seemed lost for words -- though he wanted to give some sort of assurance, he struggled to come up with something to say. Leaning into the hammock, he bumped his forehead against Silvie's. "It's gonna be ok, alright?"

Barrett nodded respectfully to the minister, and left Greeneye to return to his duties. His attention went directly to the wound on Talinn's cheek, as if the outburst had never happened. "No worries, sir," he said with an air of mild embarrassment. Goodness, had he telegraphed his frustration that transparently? He hadn't meant to. "...I could put a single stitch in it. It just barely needs one. Two for good measure." Barrett went to fetch his supplies, leaving Finnian to supervise.

It unsettled him that the minister was bringing by such precious medicines at a time like this. Did he anticipate things would get worse? It was a mere tribe of shrews. The Imperium could utterly crush them. What was so dire that he didn't understand? Not to mention... such secretive and experimental medication was disconcerting to say the least. He returned to Talinn's side, ready to preform the procedure standing. The captain's presence seemed to indicate he wasn't the type to lie down and show vulnerability in front of the crew. "Steady now... little prick." he advised, putting in the first stitch.

"W-wait! What about the laudanum?" asked Finn, shocked that Barrett was just putting the stitches in with nothing to dull the pain.

Barrett glanced down at the young kit, then back to the captain. He did say to not mix laudanum with Cerebrum lapideum... but Barrett wasn't about to say that infront of the crew. "The captain's a tough old boot, Finn. He's not afraid of a few stitches." And of course, Finn simply had to watch on in awe to see if Talinn flinched. Man, he wanted to be that tough when he grew up.

"I'm presuming you're planning a shore party?" asked Barrett while he worked. The pine marten expected he'd be staying on the ship, and wanted to make final arrangements for whatever was needed ashore.

 

[Silvertongue and Greeneye]

Silvertongue smiled weakly, putting a hand on Finns shoulder, appreciating the kind gesture of his head bump. "Yea... that stuff does taste pretty foul." He laughed a bit wearily. "I'll be okay, I'm sure. I just hope I don't catch a fever from this cold." He said, before laying back in the hammock.

Meanwhile, Greeneye grimaced, his leg throbbing dully. "Er- Cap'n." He sat up a bit. "That blue stuff... if'n I take it, I can really keep fightin'? I ain't done wit' them shrews yet." There was a particular look in his eye. Anger, yes... but also a burning need for vengeance. It was obvious Greeneye had a bloodlust to him that, once riled up, would take a bit to be quelled.

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

Talinn did not flinch as the stitches went through him, even if they hurt, albeit less from his constant abuse of Cerebrum lapideum to handle his ever-present anxiety. He had been through this rodeo many, many times before, and this was a relatively minor procedure compared to having a sharp blade pulled out of one’s thigh and the necessary agony of surgery, the painful rehabilitation, and the still ever-lurking dull pain and aching-a final parting gift from Alexei that still bothered him a decade later. The old fox had not gone down easily even at his advanced age, and he made sure Talinn would remember that and his choices every single day for the rest of his life.

“Aye, but two. One, the main one, will set up fortifications to protect our landing boats, and the other, far smaller, I will personally lead to secure our main objective. Hopefully, we will be able to do this fast enough that the locals will not be able to mount an effective counteroffensive, and we can depart without further casualties.”

That was, however, unlikely, as both he and the older marten had to know. No military operation, no matter how well planned, ever survived contact with the enemy perfectly, but he did not wish to reveal that truth to the rest of the members in the cabin.

Turning towards Greeneye as he asked him about Lecur Ferro, he gave him a nod.

“It will buy you the time you need, Deckswab Greeneye, but as I said, you will eventually pay for it later. The more you take, the worse the comedown, although…” He glanced towards Silvertongue, now calming down, but still fragile. “...sometimes, for the ones we care about, it is worth the cost."

@FinnianBrightfur @Silvertongue and Greeneye