Birth and Re-Death
Chapter 35: Lightly Breaded Insults [Robin]
"Loving Naga, emissary of the gods, I beseech you on behalf of your people. Long have we toiled, in war and in poverty, in despair and in grief. But in your grace we find hope of a bright tomorrow. Hope that binds us together and unites us in purpose. In you we place our faith. Faith that our little light of hope, no matter how dim it may seem in the face of such darkness, will yet be able to light our path. Though the way forward leaves us no choice but to fight and kill our enemies, we do so knowing that it is right that we should defend our homes. And so we plead with you, that our swords may not falter, that our arrows may strike true, that our shields will not shatter. And by your blessing, we may create a land of peace for the living, and inherit peace everlasting for the dead. In the name of Naga, we so pray."
Libra bows his head, and the rest of us follow suit. Personally I'm not sure about putting our fate in the hands of any goddess, or emissary of the gods, or whatever else have you. I'll be acting from tomorrow on as though every god in the sky is bent against us, because I have no proof they aren't. I'll be placing my trust in my plan and in the skill of the Shepherds. Even so, I don't mind bowing my head with those that this stuff matters for.
Tharja seems not to think similarly. She nudges my side with her elbow, and when I turn my head slightly to look at her, she's clearly holding back derisive laughter. I suppose she's hoping that since I'm apparently former Grimleal, same as her, I'll join her in poking fun at the Nagalei. I don't have any interest in doing so, though.
From here, I can see the back of Sumia's head over the shoulders of the others, sitting near the front of the group. I can tell from this distance that she's praying fervently. Out of everyone in the Shepherds, I think she's probably among the most justified in wanting to appeal to the gods. She watched her own childhood home, a place that was meant to be idyllic and safe from all harm, get invaded and partially torched by the Plegians, all because of an idiotic mistake that had the worst possible consequences. I won't begrudge her the desire to appeal to whatever higher power she likes, regardless of my own thoughts. I make this clear to Tharja by frowning and staring straight ahead. After a moment out of the corner of my eye I see her quietly emulate me.
The woman might be alarmingly fixated on me, but at least it makes her compliant.
It's interesting to see which Shepherds seem to take this more seriously than others. Some, like Sumia, Maribelle, Chrom, and Stahl, seem to be engaged in the prayer exercise quite thoroughly. Others, even among the Ylisseans like Gaius, Vaike, and Sully, seem like they can't wait for it to be over, constantly glancing around and occasionally making eye contact with each other. Those of us who aren't Ylissean or Nagalei in general were invited to come anyway, but few did. I'm sitting in because I'm done with prep work for tonight. I think Tharja only came because I did.
The other standout members of this mini-congregation are the trio of Lissa, Emmeryn, and Frederick, sitting together in the back, not far from me and Tharja. At first, Emmeryn seemed not to understand what was going on, but after a minute or so, adorably, she started imitating her sister and Frederick on either side of her. Even now she sits with her eyes closed and her head bowed, just like her little sister and her knight, though occasionally I see her open one eye and peek at the others to make sure that's still what she's supposed to be doing. I might be channeling my inner Randall a bit when I think to myself that that's the cutest shit I've ever seen.
Libra offers up a few more prayers for our safety, for the safeguarding of the people still left in the capital, for Randall's safe return, and for a swift end to the war. It's by far the longest I've ever heard Libra speak for. Even before Randall was taken, I didn't have many chances to speak with him, but since Randall's kidnapping, he's become a much more private person. I'm led to understand that he spends the bulk of his time in solitary prayer, I assume for Randall's sake. I know that he and Randall had grown really close, so I can tell it's been hard for him too.
After a while, the prayer service ends, and the Shepherds disperse to their various next items on their list. For my part, I've barely stood up before I find Libra standing in front of me.
"Oh, Libra. Did you need something?" I ask.
"No, not at all. I just wanted to thank you and Tharja for coming to my little impromptu service. I know that neither of you are Nagalei, but it means a great deal to me that you would pray in solidarity with us nonetheless," he replies with a gentle smile.
I return the smile. "I'm happy to. Like you said, we have to be united in purpose if we want to stand a chance, right?"
He nods. "Yes. I have prayed on this daily since the ambush we endured at the Anchorage estate. I am sure beyond all doubt that this battle will test us more than any other. But no matter the cost, so long as our cause is just, I know too that we will prevail."
Well, I'm glad one of us is confident, at least. "This battle is going to be long, Libra. I'll be counting on you to help keep people's spirits up, because I have a feeling we're going to need it."
"Of course. I will do my utmost."
"Robin, are you sure about this plan? It sounds like it will make this battle into a grueling affair," Chrom says from across the war table.
"I'm certain. If the Plegians know that we're coming, and by all accounts we must assume that they do, we need a tactic that doesn't rely on surprise in the least. I think I can anticipate their strategy. They will want us to invade straightaway. They've had weeks to fortify their internal defenses and familiarize themselves with the city. Their grip on the city from the inside is likely ironclad. They want to force us to come to them, just like they had to come to us in Anchorage. That's why we cannot allow that to happen."
"What of the civilians still inside the city?" Chrom asks.
I hesitate. This isn't easy to talk about so frankly, but he's the captain and he deserves to know my honest thoughts. "Anyone who didn't manage to escape before the Plegian takeover of the city was complete is already in a terrible position. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if the enemy takes civilians hostage and holds them at swordpoint to force us to comply with them. We cannot allow such displays to intimidate us, if they should happen. As long as we control the gates and the supply lines, time is on our side, and they will know that."
Chrom bows his head as I speak. "So I should anticipate having to watch my people butchered in front of me? Is there nothing we can do?"
"If a solution comes about, by all means I'll use it to its fullest extent. But right now we only have one active flier, and I'm not comfortable sending Sumia into the city to assist with any further evacuations without someone watching her back. The safety of the Shepherds is the first priority. That's why this siege is the only viable strategy as things stand now. Ideally we could have snuck into the city, but leaked communications have forced us to this. I don't like it either, but I'd much rather just have to protect the door than invade the city."
He interlocks his fingers behind his neck, pulling his head farther down. "I know you're right. You've always been right." His arms drop to his sides as he stands up. "I'm gonna try and get some sleep. We've got a long ordeal ahead of us."
"Yeah, we do."
I sit back in my chair as Chrom leaves the wagon. Chrom's right. This is borderline barbaric. Or at least it could be. Maybe whoever's in charge in the city will see the position their soldiers are in and call for surrender. Sure would be nice. In any case, in the absence of the respawn power, it's the only option that maximizes the chance that no Shepherds will come to any harm.
I wonder how many of the Shepherds are aware of what awaits us. According to every tactical text and historical account I've gotten my hands on, sieges can and usually do take weeks, even months, to come to an end. We have to prove that our will is stronger than the enemy's.
To that end, I'm keeping the information about Randall's whereabouts under wraps for now. It'll be hard enough for me to focus on the battle at hand, knowing (or at least having a really strong idea) where he is, but if the Shepherds as a whole had to exercise the patience to carry this siege through to the end while knowing where he's being held, I think we might fall apart. I've told Chrom, because someone has to know, and that someone has to be accountable enough to keep me in check in case I ever try to duck out of the siege and make a detour to Themis.
I sigh. This is going to be a long few weeks.
I decide to pay Emm a visit before I go to bed. It's not likely I'll have another chance to talk to her for a while yet, with this whole siege idea, so I want to capitalize on the chance while I have it. I've already been neglecting her far too much lately. As her brother, I should make more of an effort.
When I enter the medical cart, where Emm still stays even though she probably technically doesn't have to now, I'm a bit surprised not to see Lissa here. Maybe she went to bed early to prepare for tomorrow. In any case, it seems both Frederick and Emm have gone to sleep already.
I consider leaving, but instead decide to stay for just a bit. I sit on a crate near Emm's bedroll and watch her sleep.
She looks so much smaller when she sleeps. It's a little hard to believe this vulnerable, almost frail woman is the same person I spent my whole life looking up to. She always seemed larger than life somehow back then, but now, she's just… there.
"We're going to get it back, Emm. We're going to take our home back, and when we do, this war can end. We'll make good on the sacrifice you made. Please believe in us just a little longer," I whisper to her. Somehow, saying it to her makes it feel more real.
"Milady, I'm sorry I kept you wa– waaah!" I hear from the entrance to the wagon, followed by a clattering of dishware. Maribelle's head pokes through the doorway. "Milord, you startled me!"
All the sudden noise stirs Emm from her sleep. "Muuh?" she mumbles as she blinks her bleary eyes and tries to wake up.
Seeing Maribelle looking so flustered draws a smile out of me. "Sorry about that, Maribelle. I just wanted to pay Emm a little visit before we begin the attack tomorrow."
Maribelle calms down quickly, and enters the wagon with a tea set on a tray in hand. "Lissa went to bed some time ago. I told her I would take care of Lady Emmeryn for the evening. Poor Lissa has been working herself to the bone lately, you know. But while I was off getting the tea kettle prepared, it seems Lady Emmeryn went to sleep. She must be exhausted too."
"Chrom?" Emm asks, looking up at me from her bedroll.
"Hey there, Emm. Just came to say good night," I say, smiling down at her.
She gives a small smile in return. "Good night, Chrom." Without another word, she buries her face back in her pillow.
I look at Maribelle, who looks back at me in equal bewilderment. We both snort, but do our best not to laugh aloud, for fear of stirring her.
"She must need the rest," Maribelle says as she sits on a crate next to mine.
"I guess so." Amazing that despite everything that's happened, being this near to her still drives my heart rate up.
"Well, I went to the trouble to get a kettle ready and acquire two cups. Would you care for some tea, milord?" Maribelle asks, already getting ready to pour the water.
"I could never refuse a request for tea with you," I reply, trying to keep my nerves in check.
"You flatter me, milord." She hands me a cup, mercifully warm on this cold night, and I take a sip. I don't know my teas very well, but this is a gentle brew and it warms my chest pleasantly.
"Thank you, Maribelle. For the tea, and for looking after my sisters. I can always rest easy when it comes to Lissa, knowing that she has a friend like you keeping an eye on her."
"Gracious, it's the least I can do! You have the weight of the whole continent on your shoulders, milord. Anything I can do to lessen that load is not only my duty, but my joy to do for you," Maribelle says earnestly.
The way she smiles after she says that, I can tell she meant every word. Gods, she's so kind I can feel gratitude welling up in my throat. "I don't…" Somehow I get the feeling that if I tell her how I feel, that I don't deserve this kindness, it'll only result in a scolding. "Thank you, Maribelle. I don't know what we would do without you."
She huffs. "I'm sure you'd get on just fine, milord. I've seen your prowess on the battlefield time and again, and you have never let our people down."
"I don't just mean battle. I can count on all the Shepherds to carry the day on the battlefield. I mean more… generally. You've always been there for my family. You make me feel safe, in a way that swords and lances and even our allies just… don't." Oh gods, I've said too much. "I-I mean, knowing that you've always been a friend to Lissa, it's just… nice." I get really interested in looking at my tea suddenly.
"Well, it's good to know that my efforts don't go unappreciated. Honestly, you know how I adore Lissa, but there are times where she takes for granted how much worrying I do on her behalf. Do you know I've already started prematurely greying for fear of that girl's safety?" She sets down her cup and holds one of her hair coils out toward me. "Look at this! I'm twenty! Twenty! And you can see the grey in my hair!" Remembering herself, she coughs embarrassedly and lowers her volume. "Ah, my apologies for my outburst, milord."
I can't help but laugh a little. "No worries, Maribelle. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough around me to talk that way. You've never let the fact that I'm a prince stop you from just being… Maribelle. Lets me forget everything on my mind, just for a moment."
"Well," she clears her throat, "I'm glad it doesn't seem to offend you. But even so, a certain degree of decorum should still be observed."
"Maribelle, you know me well enough to know that decorum is a low priority for me. I like you best when you let yourself relax. You don't need to stress yourself for my benefit."
It seems I've left her at a bit of a loss for words. "I… Thank you, milord."
"Please, you call my sister by her name. I don't see why you can't call me by mine." I hope I'm not pushing things too far, but it's been so long since Maribelle and I last had a chance to talk. I don't want to waste this opportunity.
"I… suppose if you insist, I'm in no position to disagree. Thank you, Chrom."
I internally breathe a sigh of relief. "Well, we're going to have a long battle ahead of us. We should get our rest while we can."
"Agreed. Let's retire for the evening."
Frederick lies quietly on his bedroll, choosing to feign sleep rather than interrupt Prince Chrom in his conversation with Lady Maribelle. By Frederick's estimation, it seems obvious to him that Chrom must feel strongly toward Maribelle, and he quickly comes to feel as though he is intruding on their moment. However, he is essentially trapped now, as to interrupt the conversation now would be worse than simply pretending to sleep and enduring the feeling of awkwardness. He does his best not to listen to what's being said, but his sharp sense of hearing betrays him, and he doesn't miss a thing.
Even so, as he listens to his liege's words, his mind drifts elsewhere. In Chrom's requests, he hears a great deal of the same things that Exalt Emmeryn used to tell him. She would encourage him to 'lighten up,' to drop the guise of the loyal knight and just enjoy her company. She had wanted to interact with him not as a ruler and her servant, but as companions. If only he had allowed himself to do so back when he had the chance.
Amid the sound of stuttered conversation and clattering drinkware, he resolves to himself that from here on, he will honor Emmeryn's request, even if she no longer remembers making it.
The plan is set. Three major gates into the city – south, west, and east – and we have a plan to block all of them. Six major farming complexes around the city that supply different essential food items to the city population, all of which are currently occupied by Plegian soldiers. We have a plan to cut each of them off from the city interior. Three major roads into the city – south, west, and east – each of which potentially receives supply runs from Plegian occupiers moving between major cities. We have a plan to waylay any Plegian caravans on the roads before they reach the city gates and box us in.
Even if the Plegians expect these tactics, there's really nothing they can do that doesn't benefit us more than it benefits them. They could rush out of the city to try to clash with us before we box them in, but I have greater confidence in the Ylissean-Feroxi alliance's strength than the Plegians'. We may be tired, but we are also angry, and we are fighting for what we know is right. Meanwhile, by all accounts the Plegians are demoralized, paranoid, and mentally exhausted already. No matter the size of the occupying force, if they are forced to funnel themselves through the city gates, their numbers won't matter, just like they didn't in Anchorage.
The truth is that they have no choice but to either attempt to escape, which of course would just make retaking the city easier for us, or to hunker down and hope that some outside force will save them before they starve. I anticipate the latter and am planning for it. Once we've reoccupied the farming complexes, we'll have access to their food storehouses, and feeding the Shepherds and the Feroxi should be easier. We'll outlast them. And when the Plegians finally crack, and starvation finally forces them into an ultimatum, we will impose an unconditional surrender on them in exchange for food and the right to leave. That is when we will retake Ylisstol.
The first step is blocking the gates. To that end, the Feroxi soldiers have been hard at work constructing barricades that will block any infantry from advancing out of the city. Meanwhile, Virion will organize a set of counter-projectile divisions that will focus on taking out any archers or mages that attempt to fire over the barricades from the top of the walls. He might be a bumbling fool when it comes to keeping secret information in the right hands, but I am at least confident in his skill behind the bow.
My desire to keep an eye on as many of the Shepherds as possible informed my decision to keep most of them on the south side of the city with me. The only Shepherds guarding the other gates are Anna and Gregor to the west and Kellam and Miriel to the east. I want at least one Shepherd with a healing staff with every wing of the siege party, and I want each of those healers to have someone watching their back. Basilio and Flavia are each taking a gate to oversee as well, leaving the main gate to me for oversight. As for the south gate, I plan to leave Chrom, Lissa, and Virion in charge here while I join the raiding parties in ridding the farm complexes of the Plegian troops.
There are three raiding parties, each tasked with taking down two complexes. To my own group, I've assigned Donnel, Cordelia, and Maribelle. The remaining Shepherds are split among the other two parties, and each is bolstered by about a dozen Feroxi soldiers as well.
The siege begins on the first of January. We gather everyone, Feroxi and Ylissean alike, to stand together, some quarter mile south of the city. I stand before the collective might of our alliance in the wee hours of the morning, with Chrom on my left and Basilio and Flavia on either side of us. Everyone has already organized themselves into their respective groups, ready to move the moment we give the order. The barricades have been loaded onto wagons, prepped for placement when they get to the gates. Everything is set.
"Hoo," Chrom exhales next to me. He glances my way. "Ready?"
"Yeah. Let's get this started."
"Everyone!" Chrom shouts to the group. "The time has come to strike back at those who have invaded our home! Whether you are Ylissean, Feroxi, or neither, it doesn't matter; we stand together against this force that has demonstrated time and again that they hold neither the lives nor the homes of others to be sacred. Any army that achieves its ends via the slaughter and subjugation of civilians is an army fighting for evil. Though our history is long and varied, and often unpleasant to recall, we can take solace in the fact that on this day, it is we who are fighting on the side of justice! We know that it is not by continuing the cycle of hatred that we will regain peace. We will sever the cycle here and now by driving the Plegians back to their homeland, where their king will answer for his crimes, against both his own people and ours. We know, as my sister Emmeryn knew, that the Plegians desire an end to this war as well, but for as long as they are compelled to answer to King Gangrel, that end will never come."
He takes a long breath. "This siege will be long. It will be difficult. But it will be worth it, because this will be the beginning of the end for those who seek to rule by fear. Here, now, is where this war can finally start to end. This is the start of our reclamation!"
His cry is met with thunderous cheers, weapons beaten on chests and against shields, a single cacophonous roar of assent. If I didn't know that noise was on our side, it would be pants-shittingly terrifying. Chrom, Flavia, and Basilio each raise a weapon high in the air and signal for their respective groups to follow them. The khans break off toward each side of the city, while Chrom's force remains centered, advancing up the field toward the grand south gate. Meanwhile, I gather with the farming complex raiding parties one last time before we make our move.
"Alright everyone, I want this done quickly, but more importantly, done safely. Be smart about the way you approach these complexes. According to our most recent scout reports, they aren't as well-guarded as the inside of the city, but that's no reason to be incautious. We're watching each others' backs the whole way, got it?" I say.
Various 'right's and 'got it's and other expressions of understanding. That'll have to do. The stress of letting any Shepherds out of my sight continues to wear on me, but there's no way this can work if I just sit here babysitting everyone in a big group. I have to trust everyone to take care of themselves.
"Then let's get to it. Go, go!"
The three raiding parties separate, and my group heads toward the southeast side of the city exterior to start our takeover of the farms. It's time for the siege to begin.
One of our targets is more easterly, the other more southerly, so we take the former first. The farming complexes are essentially centralized farm towns located about two miles from the city walls, surrounded on all sides by farmland, stretching far into the countryside beyond. Little villages dot the country farther out, but the grain storehouses are all in the central towns, which means they're the most important places to secure.
We stop maybe an eighth of a mile outside of town. Even though we can clearly make out the buildings of the town from this distance, it isn't immediately apparent how well-guarded the town or the grain storehouse in particular is. The building sticks out, though, a massive wooden structure near the edge of town that holds the yields of all the fields' crops all winter long.
"Alright everyone, be on your guard. This might be an ambush. There's no way they'd leave their food totally unattended," I say, readying my Levin sword and gesturing for Donnel and Cordelia to lead us into town. We approach slowly, keeping an eye on every corner and alley as we approach the storehouse, waiting for any sign of movement from the enemy. Strangely, though, even as we arrive at the doors themselves, there isn't a peep from the Plegians. I know the Ylissean townsfolk must be shut indoors, but that doesn't explain the total silence out here.
A couple Feroxi position themselves to open the door on my signal. "Be ready for anything. There's something going on here," I say. Everyone nods and holds their weapons at the ready.
I gesture with my hand, and the Feroxi throw the doors open. Donnel, Cordelia, the other Feroxi and I charge inside, but quickly stop short. We all stand in silence for a couple seconds.
"Do we have the wrong building?" someone asks.
"No, this is right," Donnel replies. "I know a grain storehouse, and this is it. But I think we might'a been played."
I realize with a sinking heart that he's right. I didn't think the Plegians would have time for such a major operation, but it seems they've taken every grain of wheat from the storehouse and moved them somewhere else. The storehouse is totally empty.
"Son of a bitch…" If we can't prevent the Plegians from getting food, this is going to get a lot harder. "Let's make sure it's not just this one. We're hitting the southern complex."
My heart is pounding with dread as we make our way southwest across the fields, empty now from the finished harvest. No one says a thing while we proceed from one town to the other.
We rush into town, not nearly as cautious this time about the possibility of an ambush. Not that we had any reason to worry; this town is as quiet at the last. When we bust into the storehouse, my fears are confirmed. Nothing.
Well, almost nothing. A single loaf of bread sits on the floor in the middle of the room. Tacked to the loaf is a note. I pick up the bread, unsurprisingly rock-hard with staleness, pick the note from the bread, and read the message.
"Have a nice winter, Shepherds."
I crumple the note in my hand and throw the loaf into the corner in frustration. "We have to get back to the city, now," I command.
We make haste back to the southern group, who by now have set up most of their barricades and are waiting on further orders or a response from the Plegians. As we approach, Chrom notices us and hustles over to meet us.
"Robin, what's happened? Are the Plegians in the farming towns already taken care of?" he asks.
"No. They had time to move all the grain and other food inside the city walls before we arrived. We're in deep shit, Chrom," I say through gritted teeth. I can't believe I let myself get outsmarted like this! I underestimated the enemy, and now they have the clear upper hand.
"What happens now?" Chrom asks, clearly doing his best not to look worried.
"Well, I guess the plan hasn't much changed. We just have a much, much longer fight ahead of us, I'm afraid," I reply. "We still control the gates at this rate, we're just going to have a harder time starving them out. We're also going to have hungry farmers coming to us in fairly short order, I'm sure, begging us to liberate the food stores inside the city. It was a good move on their part, but we aren't doomed just yet. We just have to prove that we can outlast them."
"Well, what are we going to do for food? We were kind of counting on those storehouses, weren't we?"
"We'll have to set up our own supply lines, most likely. Hopefully Plegian supply caravans will be coming through periodically and we can waylay them. We'll want to set aside some skilled hunters to keep up our supply of meat. And we need to consult someone with knowledge on farming about whether anything can grow during the winter months. We just have to get creative with our solutions." As I say this, and a new plan starts to take shape in my head, my breathing slowly evens out. "Yes. We're not in crisis just yet. It's fine."
As I say this, a lone horn blast cuts through the air from the top of the wall above the south gate, drawing nearly everyone's attention. Slowly, a pair of giant metal shields come into view, obscuring whoever might be standing behind them.
"Attention, Shepherds of Ylisse! My name is Campari Leone, and I will speak with you now. Do I have the privilege of addressing Chrom, leader of the Shepherds?" a voice booms from behind the greatshields.
Chrom looks at me for advice. I shrug, then nod. He looks back in the general's direction. "Yes, you do."
"Excellent. Based on what my lookouts report, I gather that you have sent groups out to the farming towns and seen the state of things outside the city walls. Correct?"
"Yes."
"Then I trust you have come to realize what the situation is. We have moved all the food supplies for the winter inside the city walls to a secure location. Your siege will not be able to prevent us from being well stocked for the entire winter. If you wish to wait us out, you will be waiting a very, very long time." Despite the meaning behind his words, I don't hear any malice to the general's tone. It's as if he's giving a report rather than gloating.
Campari goes on. "That's not all. Before you arrived, I sent word to the surrounding cities and provinces, requesting aid from the soldiers stationed in every major city in the halidom. In a matter of weeks, you will be descended on from every side by my comrades occupying the rest of your cities. And unlike us, safe behind the walls of the capital, you are out in the open out there. Even if you started working right now, there would not be enough time to adequately prepare for the onslaught that is coming."
My gut seizes into a tight, painful knot. If what he's saying is true, we really are in a crisis.
"Soon, you will face an attack on two sides. From the invaders on the outside, and the well-fed and well-rested soldiers on the inside. You thought that you were surrounding us, but in point of fact, it is your army that is surrounded. So, allow me to tell you what options you have at this point, and what the results of choosing those options will be.
"Firstly, you could try invading us actively right now. We are heavily fortified in here, and our forces outnumber yours. Further, we have a group of about one hundred Ylissean civilians held captive inside the city, ready to be put to death at the first sign of invasion from you. You might prevail, but it matters not, because it will come at the price of a huge loss of Ylissean life, both military and civilian. You will not be adequately prepared to face the forces that are coming from the outside.
"Second, you could carry on with your starvation tactic and wait for months on end while we eat from the fruits of your villagers' labors. Meanwhile, the farmers outside the city will either starve over the winter or work themselves to the bone in a futile attempt to plant more crops over these cold and unforgiving months. And then, yourselves hungry and fatigued, you will face an attack on both sides from refreshed and well-rested soldiers. You will be overrun and killed, and you will have gained nothing.
"Finally, you may choose to surrender. If you do this, my soldiers will escort you into the city. You will be disarmed and detained, but for the time being, none of you will be killed. You and the farmers both will be fed, and you will be sent either across the border to Plegia to face King Gangrel's judgment or back to Regna Ferox, where no further punitive action will await you. I say this to the Feroxi members of your alliance: your participation in this war is incidental, the result of an informal agreement between yourselves and the Ylisseans, and I would not see you unduly punished for that. I cannot promise that you Shepherds will all necessarily survive this process, as I am sure that there are those among you that His Highness would see executed. But it will not be by my men's hands, and it will not be here. I recommend this option. In fact, I recommend it so strongly that I do not even demand that you choose it right away. You may elect to change your mind and surrender at any point between now and your deaths, and I will ensure that my men honor it."
Chrom looks at me desperately, hoping I'll have an answer. My fists ball at my sides. Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit! He's much smarter than I gave him credit for. He's demoralizing us, revitalizing the spirit of his own troops, and driving a stake between us and the Feroxi, all in one move. It was a mistake to come here. We should never have come here. Why did I think we could handle something like this?
If you can carry out the plan, I'm sure that our paths will cross soon enough.
No. I'm not giving up. Randall said he has faith in us that we can do this. I have to keep that same faith alive, even if it seems like a hopeless situation. There's a way out. There's always a way out. I just have to figure it out. I glare at Chrom and shake my head firmly from side to side.
He looks almost relieved, and matches my look of determination. "General Campari! Your offer of mercy is undoubtedly both sincere and well-intentioned. But we will be turning it down. You can sit inside my home's walls for now if you like, but someday soon, we will be coming for you!"
Long seconds of silence pass before Campari speaks again. "Well, I can't say I didn't expect that. And as I said, the offer is always open. Until we meet again, Prince Chrom." The greatshields retreat, and a haunting silence fills the chilly January air.
Chrom looks at me again. "You do have a plan, right?"
I have no choice but to give him a guilty smile. "Not yet, no."
His face blanches. "O-oh. I see."
"But surrender is not and never can be an option. We can't let Ylisse down."
He swallows. "Right. Well, let's meet with the khans and see what we have."
"Captain Venir, sir! We've got a problem," the rookie lancer tells his captain breathlessly, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it to keep it shut.
"I heard the commotion. What the hell is going on out there?" the captain demands. "This was supposed to be a quiet assignment!"
The lancer gulps. "Well, uh, it seems that the townsfolk have… turned violent, sir. There's a group out there stirring them up, and now we've got our hands full keeping the civilians down. And they – the group I was talking about, I mean – they got a wyvern." He glances toward the window nervously, as if the mention of the beast alone might summon it.
Venir blanches. "You don't mean… The knight in black? Why on earth would he come here?"
"I don't know, sir! What do we do?" the soldier pleads.
"Well, we have to get out of here! What's the quickest way out of town?" Venir asks, already frantically grabbing whatever supplies he can scrounge up and stuffing them into a canvas sack.
"The woods to the northwest are probably our best bet, but I – waah!" the lancer cries in alarm as the wood of the door decays behind him and buckles under his weight, causing him to topple backwards through the doorway. A short cry and a fleshy thwack later, the lancer falls silent.
Before the captain can do more than draw his sword, four people enter his quarters, each with a weapon in hand. A man in plate armor armed with a lance enters first, followed by a muscular man with an axe, a slight woman with a bow, and finally a bearded man in a long, dark blue jacket holding a black tome.
The bearded man speaks first. "I was right! Wood's organic, so dark magic can decay it like any other living thing. How about that shit?" Though his words and his tone suggest levity, the look of intensity in his eyes, in all of their eyes, belies their intentions. The man looks at Venir. "You're Captain Venir, right?" He glances at the canvas sack hastily packed on the table next to the captain. "Going somewhere, boss?"
Venir opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing is forthcoming. What could he possibly say?
"You know, I'm no fan of you occupiers in general, but I really prefer the kind of leader who, you know, leads? I've fought a fair number of Plegians in my time, and I have to admit, their officers are usually pretty good about sticking by their men. But then there's you. The whole time we've been taking the fight to your men, you've been camped out up here. And then, on top of that, when we finally come to check up on you, we find you like this. Packed up and ready to bail on your own subordinates." He grimaces and says his next sentence with extra venom. "You're lower than a bastard."
"What do you think? Should we take him out to the townsfolk, let them sort him out?" the man with the axe asks. Venir's stomach turns to ice in his gut.
The bearded man considers. "No, I'd prefer if our revolution could avoid becoming quite so… mob justice-y. Where I came from, the famous revolution that went down that path didn't end in a happy place." He takes another moment to work out his solution. "Tell ya what. This is your post, so you get one chance to defend it. First shot's a freebie. Your chances aren't great, but they're better than your chance of running away. How about it?"
Backed both physically and psychologically into a corner, Venir rapidly examines each of the four opponents facing him down. He could try to take the archer, but she's standing next to that man hefting that giant axe, which doesn't bode well for him even if he gets a hit off on the girl. The man in the plate armor isn't an option either. If he rushes the bearded man, who stands closest to the door, he might have a chance of getting out of the room without engaging the others. The archer would be too close to get a shot off, and this mage doesn't look too well armored. He's even standing with a hand behind his back, looking like he doesn't expect an attack. Yes, that seems to be the only way out. As gracious as this man may have been to offer a sporting chance, if Venir wants to survive he cannot give the same courtesy.
He charges, sword raised. If the others are moving, he doesn't see it; his sight is focused on the mage and the door behind him alone. He brings the blade down over the mage's head, but before it connects his opponent raises the arm that had been hidden, revealing an until-now concealed staff. The sword hits the shaft with a clang and slides down, but Venir is an adaptable fighter; he'll simply turn this into a slice on the mage's shoulder. But even the muted blow he should have won doesn't seem to connect. The blade bounces off his coat harmlessly, leaving Venir off-balance and stopping his forward momentum entirely.
"Nice try, slugger," the bearded man says as he raises his arm out of the captain's sight, and the last thing Venir registers is a sharp and sudden pain to the back of his head. And then, nothing.
"Oh, you know what I just remembered?" Gaius says, looking at the sun as it wanes in the western sky. "It was actually my birthday today. With all the craziness we've had around here, I totally spaced on it until now."
Lissa gasps in shock, drawing my attention from the text on agricultural methods that I've been frantically poring over. "Oh my gods, it is your birthday, isn't it? Aah, I'm sorry, Gaius! I'm usually so good about remembering birthdays."
Gaius laughs. "You know, I think this once, I can let it slide. We've had our fair share of craziness going on the past day and a half."
Sumia chimes in, sounding just as guilty as Lissa. "But you gotta let us do something for you! I know it won't be with everyone, since a bunch of folks are on watch at the barricades, and the rest of us still need to stay on alert and all, but we can't let the day go by just like any other!"
Gaius looks a little embarrassed. "C'mon, Sumia, it's no big deal. I've never really made a big deal of it before, so why start now?"
Sumia stumbles over her thoughts for a moment, starting and stopping sentences several times before she grasps firmly onto a thought. "Well… maybe that's exactly why. If you've never had a chance to celebrate it before, you deserve a chance to make up for lost birthdays, even if we're in the middle of a siege."
"Well… uh…" I've never seen Gaius this caught off-guard before. "I guess if you're really hell-bent on the idea, I won't be the one to stop you." He looks pleased, but tentatively so.
Sumia turns to me. "Robin, I know that we're supposed to be rationing our food supplies as carefully as we can, but can we use just enough flour, sugar, butter, and fruit to make up a small pie for Gaius? I just know he'd love it!"
I weigh the pros and cons in my head. The cons are obvious. We don't have a lot of supplies to begin with, let alone enough to be goofing off with any of them on anything we don't strictly need. Spending any of those resources on such a blatant luxury isn't an efficient use of food. We must be preservation-minded.
But then I reconsider. I try to think like he would. With the long and almost certainly grueling siege ahead of us, I need to be keeping morale in mind. Something like this, even if it was just a small gesture, might be what this group needs to keep their minds on one another and the cause we're fighting for, rather than how difficult this is going to be.
I sigh. "Alright. But keep it small. And Sumia, please don't take offense, but I want someone with you as you're preparing it. We don't need any mishaps with the baking rendering valuable ingredients useless."
She hangs her head for a split second, but promptly perks back up when Gaius puts a hand on her shoulder. "Lemme help you out, Sumia. Robin might not have a lot of tact, but she's got a point. It'll be more fun for me if you let me help ya." He shoots me a covert wink for good measure so I know he doesn't mean it personally, but he's right; I probably could've worded that better.
"Well, when you put it like that, that does sound more fun… Okay!" Sumia replies, giving perhaps the first genuine smile I've seen on anyone's face since before the siege started yesterday morning.
And so, despite the general air of seriousness and tension, there exists a two-person-wide pocket of positive energy in the southern campsite as day turns to night. Every once in a while, a quiet giggle, usually from Sumia, floats over on the chilly breeze and warms our spirits, just for a moment. I feel like I made the right call.
After a while, it's time for the changing of shifts. With the exception of the overseers who constantly man the same post when they're not at rest, we have three rotations of approximately eight hours: one shift at the barricades, one shift patrolling the roads outside of the city and watching for any reinforcements from the outside, and one shift of sleep. This keeps everyone at least a little fresh and hopefully is familiarizing all the non-locals with the terrain.
It's about to be my turn for a sleep shift. For once, I think I'm actually going to be able to sleep decently. I made some progress on researching wintertime agriculture, and depending on what Kellam, Miriel, and Donnel can tell me, I might have a method in mind to keep ourselves fed. Further, the Plegians inside the city haven't made a move yet, suggesting they intend to wait on reinforcements, which there have been no reports of as yet. The worry does gnaw at the back of my mind constantly, but compared to the amount of things I've been worrying about recently, this isn't so bad. I have to keep positive, or I'll never last.
The next shift comes in from their patrol route, so that relieves me of my post officially. I decide not to waste any time getting to bed, shivering briefly in the growing night as I shuffle over to my tent. Before I get there, though, I'm held up maybe ten feet away by Gaius' voice calling over to me.
"Hey Bubbles. C'mere for a sec." He and Sumia are walking in my direction from the fire.
I walk to meet them halfway. "What's up? Did it go well?"
Gaius holds out his hands. "You tell me. First bite's for you. Well, second, but whatever. I tried." In his hands is perhaps the smallest pie I've ever seen, no more than three or four inches across. A bite is indeed missing. "Sumia said she wanted to share with you before she has any herself."
"You sure you two don't want to have it all? There isn't exactly much to go around," I say.
"Well, you did tell us to go easy on using valuable ingredients, after all," Gaius replies. "Besides, what good's a pie without sharing it with your pals? Okay, actually scratch that, pie is fantastic even if you have it alone. But all the same, lemme know what you think." He presses the little pie into my hands.
"Yeah, go on, Robin!" Sumia chimes in with an infectious smile.
"Alright, fine. Here we go." I take a small bite that still knocks out a significant portion of the remaining pie. A blend of flaky crust and sweet apple chunks and a hint of buttery flavor hits my mouth and melts together all at once. I've never been super crazy about sweets before, but this is by far the best thing I've eaten in recent memory. "Gods, this is amazing. Hard to believe it was just made from trail supplies over an open fire."
"Believe me, Robin, when you've been living on the road as long as I have, you learn to make do," Gaius says with a laugh as I hand the pie back over to him. He turns to Sumia. "There. She tried it, just like you wanted. Now give it a taste yourself while it's still got a little warmth left!"
"Okay!" Sumia takes the pie and takes a bite. I watch as her eyes widen and light up with unbridled joy at the taste. She looks almost ready to cry as she chews. "It'sh sho good~" she says around the bite still in her mouth. "Oh my godsh, Gaiush, I lo– ulh!" she stops herself talking suddenly, but then chokes on the bite in her mouth. She makes more guttural noises, pointing to her throat. Holy shit she really is choking.
"Cripes. Here, don't move, Sumia." Gaius moves quickly, getting behind her and wrapping his arms around her abdomen, wrapping one hand around the other balled into a fist.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Trust me, this works," he replies quickly, then wrenches his hands in and up suddenly, making Sumia retch forward. He does this a couple more times, and after the third time Sumia hurls the bite out of her mouth with a 'gwuh!' and I, standing in front of her, am hit in the face with a mouthful of chewed apple pie.
I almost retch myself as I scramble to get it off me, while Gaius freely laughs at me and Sumia catches her breath, hunched over and coughing. "You alright there, Sumia?" Gaius asks.
After a few deep breaths, she stands upright again. "Yeah. Thanks to you! That was amazing! How did you do that?"
He shrugs. "Like I said, you learn a lot on the trail. Especially when you ride with bandits who don't typically remember to chew their food. Or like in your case, don't remember to swallow before they start talking." He laughs good-naturedly while Sumia shifts around ashamedly. "Hey, come on, I'm kidding. I'm just glad you liked it. And you were so nice you even shared your bite with Robin!"
Sumia's eyes widen. "I did what?"
Before Gaius can answer, I hear someone else shouting from the south side of camp. "Fliers! Incoming fliers from the south! They're not ours!" I look over in the direction of the shouting, and I see one of our Feroxi patrolmen running toward the camp. Above him is a line of dark, wide silhouettes flying well overhead, probably a few dozen feet in the air. I can't make out much else about them from here.
The three of us are quick to mobilize. I pull out my Levin sword, which never really leaves my side just in case things like this happen, and I rush back to the barricades while Gaius and Sumia rush to the armory wagon.
I call up to the squad of ranged fighters set aside to respond to external threats. "Archers, mages, prepare to respond! Fliers from the south! Be ready to fire on my signal!" The squad readies their weapons to open fire.
"Robin? What's happening?" Cordelia calls from behind me, with her other night watchmates, Donnel, Stahl, and Panne, following close behind her.
"Don't know yet. Potential ambush. We're preparing to take them down. Get ready," I say, turning back to face the fliers. "Prepare to fire! Ready! Aim!"
"Wait!" Cordelia cries suddenly. "That's… it is! Those are Ylissean royal guards!"
"Hold fire!" I shout. I turn back to Cordelia. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. That's their standard flying formation, and those are clearly pegasi up there," she says firmly.
As she says this, the five-flier formation slowly dips down, and the group touches down near the center of camp. I motion for Cordelia and the other Shepherds to follow me, and I walk, sword still in hand, to meet the fliers.
"State your names!" I demand, still twenty feet or so away from them and unable to make out their appearances behind the armor and helmets they wear.
The one in the center pulls off her helmet, revealing a head of light grey hair visible even in this dark night underneath it. "My name is Phila, commander of the royal guard."
"Commander Phila?" Cordelia nearly shouts behind me. "Is it really you?"
"Cordelia? Oh gods, am I glad to see you are safe," Phila says, and she and Cordelia rush to meet one another. They throw their arms around one another in a tight but brief embrace.
"Commander, what happened to you? The reports after the battle at Golgotha said you went missing, and the Feroxi that released you couldn't account for where you'd gone," Cordelia asks, saving me the trouble.
"To my shame, we were captured by the enemy, I'm afraid. As we were making our way over the Morzas Mountains back into Ylisse, as per the Feroxi soldiers' instructions, we were ambushed by a troop of patrolling Plegian soldiers and forced to surrender. We were brought to a Plegian stronghold, where we were kept prisoner for months. At last, we recently managed to make our escape," Phila explains.
"With your weapons, armor, and mounts too. Impressive," I say. I don't like this. Something about this doesn't feel right.
"Well, as Cordelia can attest, we in the royal guard never do anything halfway," Phila replies. "You're Robin, correct? Tactician of the Shepherds."
"That's right. I'm in charge of the siege effort on Ylisstol here. I do want to know more about this captivity of yours, though. Where were you being held?" Time to start poking this story a bit.
"The Plegian-occupied Ylissean city of Bartle Hill in Dolphshire province, south of the Azure Mountains, north a ways from Port Warren."
By now the other four fliers have dismounted and removed their helmets as well. They stand on either side of their commander, each a woman in her twenties with what I would consider impractically long hair. I see now where Cordelia gets her aesthetic.
"How did the five of you manage to get away?" I ask. "What became of the town?"
"Well, it certainly wasn't an easy task. We overtook the guards one day as they opened our cell door to give us our daily meal, and found where they had been keeping our weapons and pegasi. We don't know what may have happened in the wake of our escape, but we knew our first duty was to return to the capital and assist with the effort to retake the city."
Hold on. "How were you made aware of our plan to recapture Ylisstol?" I ask. I feel Cordelia's eyes on me from my left, but I don't pay her any mind. I'm sure she doesn't appreciate me interrogating her superior like this, but the safety of the Shepherds comes before decorum every time.
"The guards were discussing it near where we were being held prisoner. It seems the plan for the siege has been made more or less common knowledge among the Plegian occupying forces at this point," she says, with enough of an edge to her tone that it's apparent she knows she's being probed.
"It's true; our communications have been leaked to the Plegian authorities regarding our plans. Let me ask you something else, though. Where you were being held in Bartle Hill, were there any other prisoners?"
"Agitators and those who openly resisted the occupiers were kept prisoner as well, yes."
"Was a priest, a healer among them? Long brown hair, bearded man? I believe you may have met Randall once before."
She shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. Why, has he been captured by the Plegians?"
"Yes and no. He was certainly kidnapped, but according to a secret message delivered to our camp some days ago, he claims not to be held by the Plegians at all. I wondered how that could be the case if one of our allies reported it was a Plegian wyvern rider that carried him off the battlefield in her sight."
She glances briefly off to the side, then looks at me again. "I'm sure I don't know anything about it. We didn't see him in Bartle Hill, in any event."
I do my best not to literally narrow my eyes at her. "Alright. I just wanted to know if anyone has been in contact with him. Of course the siege is important, but so is getting him back, naturally."
She nods. "Right. If I ever come across anything that might hint at his location, I won't hesitate to share it with you. But for now, my fellow knights and I wish to lend our aid to your cause here. May we camp near the Shepherds?"
"That shouldn't be a problem. Anywhere you see open space off the road is fine," I say.
"Thank you, Robin. Er, is that, Commander Robin?"
"Just Robin works fine."
"Alright, Robin. But while my knights set up our camp, I wonder if I might not be allowed an indulgence of my own. I heard rumors that Exalt Emmeryn survived the attempt on her life, and that she's now being kept with you all. Could I see her?" Phila asks with more sincerity than anything else she's said so far.
"I don't see why not. She's in the medical wagon over that way, being watched by Frederick during the night hours." I point in the direction of the medical wagon near camp.
"I thank you, Robin. Both for this indulgence, and more importantly for saving her life. I had heard rumors during my captivity of her survival, but I dared not hope that it might be true until now."
"No thanks are necessary. Just doing our job," I reply.
"Well, then I will head that way posthaste. Farewell for now, Robin."
As Phila begins walking away, I call after her, "Commander Phila, just one question, if it's alright. I don't expect you to know much, but as you may be aware, one of our Shepherds is Maribelle, the daughter of the duke of Themis. Do you know how things are going out in Themis? I'm sure she would appreciate anything you might be able to tell her."
Phila pauses for a moment, then looks over her shoulder at me. "I wish I could tell you more, but I'm afraid I can only speculate. I imagine it's occupied by the Plegians, same as most other major locations in Ylisse. Good night, Robin."
"Good night, Commander Phila."
As I turn to return to my tent, Cordelia stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
"Robin, I have to ask what that was about. It sounded as though you didn't trust Commander Phila. I want to know why," she says with an artificial lack of emotion, actively suppressing what I'm sure is fiery indignation at me.
"I have to evaluate every potential variable, Cordelia. Phila and the others have been gone for months, kept apparently in captivity by the enemy. Anything is possible. I just want to be sure of the people we allow into our circle of trust here. This siege is precarious. One problem that destabilizes things out here will lead to us being overrun. The Plegians inside the city are waiting for the first sign of weakness. I don't want to give it to them."
"Then Commander Phila and the royal guard should be among the first people we count on to help us! Their loyalty should be beyond question!"
"It's not even necessarily a matter of loyalty. I don't know much of Phila's military experience, but so far all I have seen is that her royal guards allowed a gang of would-be assassins into the royal palace, then failed to prevent Exalt Emmeryn from being captured by the Plegian army, then were themselves captured again after they were released from their imprisonment at Golgotha. The question of competency is just as important as the question of loyalty, and I'm not afraid to ask it."
Cordelia huffs irritatedly. "Well, as far as I am concerned, their competence is beyond question as well. You forget that in each of those circumstances, they faced insurmountable odds against a massive enemy host."
"Of course. I don't mean to offend. I just mean to know everything I can. I'm sorry if my line of questioning bothered you."
After a long moment, her expression softens just a hair. "I understand. I'm sure you can understand why it's not easy to see my own commander grilled like that, is all."
"Right. I'll try to go easier on her from here on, if that helps."
She smiles. "Thank you, Robin. I apologize for my touchiness on the subject. I just want to preserve the Shepherds' general policy of trusting those who offer their help, especially if it's someone already so dedicated to our cause."
"You're right. I got ahead of myself. In any case, I'd better get some sleep while I have the chance. I need to see Kellam and Miriel tomorrow about our food worries, which means I'm off to the east gate in the morning."
"Alright. Good night, Robin."
"Take care, Cordelia."
"Oh, Robin? You, um, have something on your face."
My hands fly to my face to brush off whatever might be there, but my fingertips come away sticky. Apple pie filling.
"Thanks, Cordelia."
As I retire to my tent, I go over what I'm thinking about this newest development. Phila knows something. She seemed too shifty in that conversation, and she seemed to actively resist telling me much of anything after she figured out I was interrogating her. She seemed particularly eager to end the conversation once Randall came up. There's more going on here than she's letting on.
And there's no doubt in my mind that Randall's note was dropped from the sky by a flier of some kind. Before now, I had been lightly assuming it may have been the same wyvern rider who kidnapped him in the first place, but now I'm not so sure. This warrants further investigation, for sure.
So much for sleeping soundly for once.
Phila breathes a sigh of equal parts relief and exhaustion as she finally escapes her conversation with the tactician. Randall had warned her that Robin would be unlikely to trust her right away, but that was beyond what she had expected. Robin went straight for the throat, leaving little room for Phila's off-the-cuff inventions to breathe before examining them with a fine-toothed comb for inconsistencies.
And she asked specifically about Themis. What was that about? Does she suspect something? Does she know something? Had Randall managed to slip a secret message past her in his letter? Phila begins to feel as though she has unwittingly thrown herself into a small arena with a large bull.
Nonetheless, she has something more important on her mind now. She opens the door to the medical wagon and climbs inside. True to Robin's word, asleep on a bedroll on the floor is the Exalt herself, looking as peaceful as she ever did. She hears a noise from the front of the wagon, and looks up to see the point of a lance aimed at her, held aloft by none other than Frederick the Wary himself.
"Who goes there?" he demands. "State your name."
"Frederick, it's Phila. Commander of the royal guard?" She supposes he can't see her silhouetted against the moonlight outside the wagon.
"Is it really? You've returned to us? Gods, this is wonderful news!" he says, lowering his lance. "We had all worried a great deal when we heard that you and your companions had disappeared. It's a relief to have you safely returned to us."
"It's a relief to be back, Sir Frederick. And doubly so to see that the Exalt is alive. I came to see her just as soon as I could," she says.
"I'm sure you must have worried terribly. Well, I suppose you should be told straight away; the Exalt has lost almost all her memories. She has been hard at work every day to regain the ability to speak normally and function as she used to, but the road ahead will be long yet for her I'm afraid," Frederick says solemnly.
"I see. Still, she is alive, and that alone accounts for everything, as far as I am concerned," Phila replies.
"I couldn't agree more, Commander."
As terrifying as Robin might be to face down in an interrogation, it was worth it to see this with her own eyes. The Exalt sleeps so peacefully, more soundly than she ever did as a child. Perhaps being relieved of those memories, all that pain, isn't entirely a curse.
Perhaps now the Exalt has the chance to be just Emmeryn. As Lord Aventine has always planned.
A/N: Kept ya waiting, huh? Well, I still managed to get it out before a month had passed, so all things considered, that's not too bad I guess. I'll tell you what's trippy, though. I read the beginning sections of this chapter over again in preparation for posting, and I remembered writing them in a convenience store in Japan. But here as I write the end of the chapter, I'm doing so in my bedroom back in the states. This is the international chapter!
As always, Mixed Valence gets big props for his help with this chapter, and a bonus shoutout because as I type this, it's actually his birthday! So if you haven't checked out Earthborne yet, why not give MV the gift of a new reader? NotTheArchitect also needs his serving of recognition, so give The Divine Age a look if you haven't yet. He's still battling with some site formatting issues, but I'll be doing my best to help with that in the coming days since by now I've come to grips with most of this site's little idiosyncrasies. And here is your Mixed Valence out of context quote of the week: "If I really want to drink for results I'll drink mouthwash."
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As always, comments and critiques are welcome. See you next time!