Outside Derdriu - Evening - Chill
Reynard Voigt
He was losing his mind.
This was the problem with being... attached, to people. He made friends, and suddenly he got distracted worrying for their safety when dangerous things were going on. It was counterproductive—he survived by keeping a cool head, succeeded by remaining rational, and when he did those things, they were more likely to live as well.
It was only when he started caring for life that he was unable to do that, but paradoxically that was the only time it really mattered. Because he'd never given much of a shit about his own, now had he?
He paced back and forth in front of the command tent, boots crunching over remnant snow. At least they weren't in bloody Faerghus anymore, but it was still more frigid than a repressed nun outside. He tugged his borrowed cloak closer around himself, wondering if Alaric had found some use in the one it had been traded for. Maybe it had helped him, somehow. Maybe the big idiot hadn't rushed out the moment the capital had come under siege and gotten himself killed.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
All any of them had to work with was a pile of maybes, and Reynard was sick of it. Information was his job, and while he understood his friend's decision not to let him go looking for it the moment they heard Derdriu was besieged, he was going to re-argue his case now, when they were only about a day and a half out anyway. If he could slip past the defenses, he could prepare whoever was left for the incoming reinforcements.
He studiously avoided thinking about the more selfish reasons he had for wanting to get there as soon as he could.
Friends. Ha.
He loved his friends, he really did. But Reynard knew he'd never been this on edge with worry before. Not once in the whole damn war.
Spirits, he was an idiot.
“Rey, you can come in, you know. You don't have to pace back and forth outside like some crazed maniac," Mercer spoke, opening the flap to the tent. Mercer looked a bit tired, but there was some life in his eyes as he motioned for Rey to step inside. It looked like they had wrapped up what the next plan of action was, and Mercer stared at Reynard for a moment.
“You want to go, don't you?" was his simple statement, as if he knew why Reynard was there.
"Yes." He answered as bluntly as he'd been asked. He'd sort of figured there was other planning going on inside and that he'd be called for when ready, but as that time seemed to be now, he wasn't inclined to waste any more of it, stepping in behind Mercer. He was unsurprised to find both Sorcha and Cyril there as well—though the Princess's memories were coming back very slowly, she did seem to know some things about Cornelia's constructs and so forth. Perhaps not the most relevant for this, but important to get in writing in case the memories faded again.
"If I can get in past the guards we can coordinate with whoever's left to break the siege. It's a risk, but I'm willing to do it and someone should. As soon as you have a plan for what side you're going in through." After they took at least one gate, things would get easier. But it would be best of they could crush the enemies sieging that gate quickly, before the rest of the occupying forces could be moved around to assist, and with their numbers that would require help from inside the city.
Mercer's eyes narrowed for a moment, and briefly, it looked like he was going to refuse. “Alright," he spoke, instead. “I figured that if this was going to work, we'd have to let Alaric know what we planned on doing, and since you're our best," it sounded like Mercer was praising Rey, “scout, then it makes sense for you to go. As for which side we'll be going through... we're going to start here."
Mercer pointed towards the map, pointing towards the southeast of Derdriu near Fódlan's Throat. “Even with the amount of troops Bergliez stated the army had, if we can catch them in a pincer movement, we have a chance at victory. It's important that we get this just right, though, because they still outnumber us. We'll need to try and thin out the herd as quickly as possible." His eyes flickered towards those present.
Sorcha nodded quietly. “It will mean circling around to come in from that side, but I think our force is small enough to do that."
“Something tells me the forces here aren't exactly in regular communication with Cornelia's, so they're unlikely to know when or if to expect us. Maximizing surprise is how we thin as fast and effectively as possible." Cyril folded his arms over his chest. “But then, that's just a presumption, based on how separate the imperial troops seemed from hers in Faerghus. If you can figure anything out about that on your way in, Reynard, it would be helpful."
Rey huffed softly. "Fair point, though I hope you'll excuse me if I make actually getting in priority one."
Mercer smiled a knowing smile. “Why wouldn't it be?" he stated, almost in a light tone despite the severity of the situation. “The sooner we know Alaric hasn't done something stupid, like charge straight out of the capital, and is still alive, well... that'll make this maneuver a lot easier. Just," he paused and took in a deep breath, “let him know we're coming. We're almost there. If he is still alive, just.. let him know help is on the way." Mercer sounded worried for his friend if the way his voice shook a little was anything to go by.
“And you be careful, too, Rey. I know it's not exactly in the business of a profession like yours, but... it'll help put us all at ease if you were just somewhat careful. We can't afford to lose you, too," he stated, pursing his lips just slightly together as he narrowed his eyes at Reynard.
He was beginning to get that impression, really. What a strange feeling.
Naturally, he played it off. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Best scout and all that. Whatever would you do without me?"
“You're more than that," Sorcha said with a rare half-smile. “Even I remember as much."
"Humor from our dear Princess? I've been blessed by the wind spirit herself. In case you've forgotten, I'm always available to ferry you away from that tremendous fool next to you, if you'd prefer." He grinned, arching a sly eyebrow at Mercer.
Sorcha looked a little confused for a moment, and then her eyes lit up. “The wedding! I remember that. Well, not it, since it didn't end up—but I remember you saying that."
Rey chuckled. "Good. It'll keep him honest. I'm a very good date, you see. Polite and everything."
Mercer snorted softly. “And once again Rey is trying to steal my fiancee from me. What ever shall I do? If that's the case, maybe I'll see if Sen's changed her mind on being my date. Can't ask Sylvi since she's married. Deirdre and Sofia won't do it, and we'd be going to Thea's wedding, after all, so that leaves her out," Mercer stated, almost smirking in Rey and Cyril's direction.
“Who says I would?" Senka spoke, entering the tent at that moment, her eyes slightly narrowed in Mercer's direction. Mercer feigned a hurt expression as he placed a hand over his heart. Senka rolled her eyes, though, and glanced in Reynards direction. “We've prepared one of the faster horses for you," she spoke, smiling somewhat at Reynard. “Just let Danae know when you're ready to leave, and she'll bring him to you."
“And I'm already honest, Rey. The most honest one of us all, in this very tent, actually." Senka huffed lightly at Mercer's statement. “But like Sorcha said. You're more important to us than just the best scout. You're family, you know that, right?"
Reynard huffed. If they'd already prepared a horse, they'd known he was going to ask again, which figured, really. They were clever that way, all of them.
And... good. They were good people. The kind of people that made him care a little more what happened to him, because he'd hate to disappoint them by dying.
"You know... honestly I think I do. So don't worry, kids. Your big brother's got this one handled." He smirked, waved a lazy salute, and exited the tent.
Time to see a lady about a horse.
This was the problem with being... attached, to people. He made friends, and suddenly he got distracted worrying for their safety when dangerous things were going on. It was counterproductive—he survived by keeping a cool head, succeeded by remaining rational, and when he did those things, they were more likely to live as well.
It was only when he started caring for life that he was unable to do that, but paradoxically that was the only time it really mattered. Because he'd never given much of a shit about his own, now had he?
He paced back and forth in front of the command tent, boots crunching over remnant snow. At least they weren't in bloody Faerghus anymore, but it was still more frigid than a repressed nun outside. He tugged his borrowed cloak closer around himself, wondering if Alaric had found some use in the one it had been traded for. Maybe it had helped him, somehow. Maybe the big idiot hadn't rushed out the moment the capital had come under siege and gotten himself killed.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
All any of them had to work with was a pile of maybes, and Reynard was sick of it. Information was his job, and while he understood his friend's decision not to let him go looking for it the moment they heard Derdriu was besieged, he was going to re-argue his case now, when they were only about a day and a half out anyway. If he could slip past the defenses, he could prepare whoever was left for the incoming reinforcements.
He studiously avoided thinking about the more selfish reasons he had for wanting to get there as soon as he could.
Friends. Ha.
He loved his friends, he really did. But Reynard knew he'd never been this on edge with worry before. Not once in the whole damn war.
Spirits, he was an idiot.
“Rey, you can come in, you know. You don't have to pace back and forth outside like some crazed maniac," Mercer spoke, opening the flap to the tent. Mercer looked a bit tired, but there was some life in his eyes as he motioned for Rey to step inside. It looked like they had wrapped up what the next plan of action was, and Mercer stared at Reynard for a moment.
“You want to go, don't you?" was his simple statement, as if he knew why Reynard was there.
"Yes." He answered as bluntly as he'd been asked. He'd sort of figured there was other planning going on inside and that he'd be called for when ready, but as that time seemed to be now, he wasn't inclined to waste any more of it, stepping in behind Mercer. He was unsurprised to find both Sorcha and Cyril there as well—though the Princess's memories were coming back very slowly, she did seem to know some things about Cornelia's constructs and so forth. Perhaps not the most relevant for this, but important to get in writing in case the memories faded again.
"If I can get in past the guards we can coordinate with whoever's left to break the siege. It's a risk, but I'm willing to do it and someone should. As soon as you have a plan for what side you're going in through." After they took at least one gate, things would get easier. But it would be best of they could crush the enemies sieging that gate quickly, before the rest of the occupying forces could be moved around to assist, and with their numbers that would require help from inside the city.
Mercer's eyes narrowed for a moment, and briefly, it looked like he was going to refuse. “Alright," he spoke, instead. “I figured that if this was going to work, we'd have to let Alaric know what we planned on doing, and since you're our best," it sounded like Mercer was praising Rey, “scout, then it makes sense for you to go. As for which side we'll be going through... we're going to start here."
Mercer pointed towards the map, pointing towards the southeast of Derdriu near Fódlan's Throat. “Even with the amount of troops Bergliez stated the army had, if we can catch them in a pincer movement, we have a chance at victory. It's important that we get this just right, though, because they still outnumber us. We'll need to try and thin out the herd as quickly as possible." His eyes flickered towards those present.
Sorcha nodded quietly. “It will mean circling around to come in from that side, but I think our force is small enough to do that."
“Something tells me the forces here aren't exactly in regular communication with Cornelia's, so they're unlikely to know when or if to expect us. Maximizing surprise is how we thin as fast and effectively as possible." Cyril folded his arms over his chest. “But then, that's just a presumption, based on how separate the imperial troops seemed from hers in Faerghus. If you can figure anything out about that on your way in, Reynard, it would be helpful."
Rey huffed softly. "Fair point, though I hope you'll excuse me if I make actually getting in priority one."
Mercer smiled a knowing smile. “Why wouldn't it be?" he stated, almost in a light tone despite the severity of the situation. “The sooner we know Alaric hasn't done something stupid, like charge straight out of the capital, and is still alive, well... that'll make this maneuver a lot easier. Just," he paused and took in a deep breath, “let him know we're coming. We're almost there. If he is still alive, just.. let him know help is on the way." Mercer sounded worried for his friend if the way his voice shook a little was anything to go by.
“And you be careful, too, Rey. I know it's not exactly in the business of a profession like yours, but... it'll help put us all at ease if you were just somewhat careful. We can't afford to lose you, too," he stated, pursing his lips just slightly together as he narrowed his eyes at Reynard.
He was beginning to get that impression, really. What a strange feeling.
Naturally, he played it off. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Best scout and all that. Whatever would you do without me?"
“You're more than that," Sorcha said with a rare half-smile. “Even I remember as much."
"Humor from our dear Princess? I've been blessed by the wind spirit herself. In case you've forgotten, I'm always available to ferry you away from that tremendous fool next to you, if you'd prefer." He grinned, arching a sly eyebrow at Mercer.
Sorcha looked a little confused for a moment, and then her eyes lit up. “The wedding! I remember that. Well, not it, since it didn't end up—but I remember you saying that."
Rey chuckled. "Good. It'll keep him honest. I'm a very good date, you see. Polite and everything."
Mercer snorted softly. “And once again Rey is trying to steal my fiancee from me. What ever shall I do? If that's the case, maybe I'll see if Sen's changed her mind on being my date. Can't ask Sylvi since she's married. Deirdre and Sofia won't do it, and we'd be going to Thea's wedding, after all, so that leaves her out," Mercer stated, almost smirking in Rey and Cyril's direction.
“Who says I would?" Senka spoke, entering the tent at that moment, her eyes slightly narrowed in Mercer's direction. Mercer feigned a hurt expression as he placed a hand over his heart. Senka rolled her eyes, though, and glanced in Reynards direction. “We've prepared one of the faster horses for you," she spoke, smiling somewhat at Reynard. “Just let Danae know when you're ready to leave, and she'll bring him to you."
“And I'm already honest, Rey. The most honest one of us all, in this very tent, actually." Senka huffed lightly at Mercer's statement. “But like Sorcha said. You're more important to us than just the best scout. You're family, you know that, right?"
Reynard huffed. If they'd already prepared a horse, they'd known he was going to ask again, which figured, really. They were clever that way, all of them.
And... good. They were good people. The kind of people that made him care a little more what happened to him, because he'd hate to disappoint them by dying.
"You know... honestly I think I do. So don't worry, kids. Your big brother's got this one handled." He smirked, waved a lazy salute, and exited the tent.
Time to see a lady about a horse.