(1169)
Day 4 of the Wyvern Moon. Sunny.
Turns out, Willard didn't even get sick. "Clean living" he calls it.
To me that just sounds like the cure is worse than the illness.

The Kid's noticeably improving now, and I can't put off heading into Gloucester any longer.
Good as it is to know Will has things in hand, and I don't need to play nursemaid to the whole camp by myself,
I'll be quick about the issues in Sauin and head back as soon as I can.
Then, once they're all on their feet again, I can figure out which of these idiots thought "mushroom surprise" would be a good idea.

1183
Horsebow Moon

Most of Cornelia's books were reference tomes. A few Edelgard recognised from her own (or Hubert's) studies, but many more strayed into territory she thought might give Constance, or Lysithea von Ordelia, some trouble for half a day or so, even then there was nothing wholly arcane to her on those shelves.

It was Ingrid who found the journal. With a gasp she brought it over to the bureau so they could both look over it. The page she'd turned to contained a list of names, a few prominent among them; Cornelia Arnim, Tomas Rosaliand, Volkhard von Arundel and Monica von Ochs.

Several names on the list had been crossed out, but more had not.

"This gets back to Shamir." Edelgard ordered. "As soon as we leave, you will fly ahead." Ingrid nodded, agreeing, fully confident Dimitri would give the same order. "Where was this?" The Emperor continued, and they returned to the shelf.

~o~*~o~

Byleth liked Chief Macneary. He reminded her a great deal of Jeralt; at one moment taking in his surroundings and subordinates with a keen eye, the next laughing alongside them. He took a step back from their council, letting Petra lead, as they had been warned to expect, but was still present.

The pirates had not come close to this island yet; they had been plundering the north-west of the archipelago. Several warriors from those islands had brought reports and sworn themselves to Petra's command, bolstering their fighting force- and their fleet. Petra had taken the time to show Byleth a map of the islands with many of the known shoals and reefs marked out. The northern waters were deeper; better for the ships from Adrestia, but towards the south and within the boundary of the islands, the local ships, which had much shallower, flatter keels had far greater manoeuvrability.

Petra's plan was to use the Adrestian ships to drive the corsairs inward, onto the reefs then board them and take them over. Some of the pirate ships might make it to the inner waters of the archipelago, but they would be met by the warriors of Brigid, sailing out to flank them.

Claude frowned "Some of them will run. We don't have enough ships to encircle and push them all in."

Petra nodded "They are in great number this year. When they have come before it was not with so many ships. But I have the strategy; we will break their formation in one battle, then we may hunt those that flee."

Claude said no more, studying the map closely as they discussed who would be assigned to which ships.

~o~*~o~

Byleth had taken her favourite position at the prow of the ship. The sea was relatively calm, and the skies were clear. Perfect conditions. She scanned the horizon and the coastline for movement as they made their way further out to the heading Petra had given them, even knowing that Ignatz would see their mark long before she did.

Caspar paced across the deck behind her, all pent up frustration. The confrontation he expected had not arrived. Petra was still treating him as exactly the friend she had before they both knew the truth of their fathers, and Chief Macneary had laughed and clapped his shoulder when they were introduced. Yet his heart still skipped, his hands jumping towards his axe, every time he picked out the word "Bergliez" from the chatter around him. But it was all introduction; no death-glares had been levelled his way, no challenges to first blood, no kids throwing stones or -or -or -anything! Annoyed with himself for borrowing trouble, he was about ready to drop to the deck and do push-ups in his full armour to let it all out, but for Leonie rolling her eyes and telling him to save it for the pirates. So he paced, twirling his axe back and forth in his hand.

The hour dragged on. Byleth left her position to walk among her Coalition forces. Two battalions on this ship; the other two ships behind. Dorothea on the ship ahead with the extra troops Edelgard had sent. Every sailor armed to the teeth. Claude and his Immortals flying in loose formation above them, Hilda riding pillion with him. They were ready.

The Commodore barked an order and the ship swung out further into open waters, the coastline just dipping in and out of view with the waves as they slowly curved back around. The rest of the fleet followed suit until they formed a great arc pointing back to Brigid. Byleth couldn't make out the pirate fleet, but she trusted the steady gaze of Ignatz and the other spotters.

There was a moment of still calmness as the Commodore checked the signals from the other ships in the formation.

And then the drums began. Hatches were opened. Oars deployed. The ship moved forwards.

The drums picked up. Ramming speed.

Byleth braced herself. Ahead she could now make out the enemy ships, pirates rushing to board and cut away. To turn so they were not broadside, exposed to the incoming attack.

The Commodore's target didn't manage it. There was a shuddering jolt, the deep keening grind of timber under impact. The pirate ship was pinned against its anchorage. The gangways thudded down.

The pirates did not fight defensively. Byleth ducked the swing of a cutlass and brought her sword up, impaling the assailant and kicking him off her blade back into the crowd behind, readying herself for the next. From her right she could hear Caspar's fierce yell and from the corner of her eye could see him press forward across the other gangway, onto the deck where the pirates could come at him all sides.

With a frown she tipped her head sharply in that direction, not needing to look to know Leonie had taken off to cover him with her bow. Then the pirates regrouped in front of her and she could spare no more attention that way as they charged. She deflected the first to the battalion soldier beside her, countered the second, dodged to allow another soldier take the third, but not once did she take a step backwards. Their gambit would break on her.

~o~*~o~

Claude banked around at the end of the line of ships, heading back into the thick of the fighting. A quick signal sent two Immortals peeling off to crash onto the deck of the first ship and pin a few marauders that had been gaining too much ground on Dorothea. He sped on, as expected Byleth had her battle well in hand. The distance and the speed involved made it almost impossible, but he could have sworn her eyes met his as he soared over and his heart gave a thump that had nothing to do with the fight.

A volley of arrows, lead by the mighty draw of Failnaught, launched against the last ship in the formation, giving Petra and her warriors, who were arriving from the inner sea, cover as they scrambled aboard to reinforce the coalition troops still taking over that ship. He was ready to turn back, to start tracing the ships that had cut away when suddenly one of his command was plummeting through the air beneath him.

The indignant roar of the wyvern was clearly audible over the wind as it struggled against the ropes that had seemingly come out of nowhere to pin it's wings. The rider was cursing as he tried to get a dagger against the binds while in free-fall. Claude scanned for the attacker and- there- just on the edge of the shoals, three of the half-dozen or so ships that had escaped their first strike lingered just in range for the mighty launchers they had on deck to fire at them. He signalled the rest of his riders to scatter so they didn't form an easy target and directed his own wyvern into a dive after his falling companion, Hilda's grip on his shoulder tightening at the sudden drop. He couldn't catch them, he knew, but he kept his eyes focused forwards, watching, heart in his throat as the Immortal's dagger found purchase and cut, and cut, and cut-

The frayed edges of a giant bolas fell away and the wyvern roared again, levelling out of the fall, but not climbing. The poor creature's wings held strong enough to glide however, and as Claude drew close enough to order them back to land and out of the fight the Immortal didn't even protest, concerned as he was for his partner.

Claude kept diving. Hilda's grip turned bruising as she realised his intent. "You're crazy!" she shouted over the wind into his ear, but he could see her readying Freikugel in his periphery nevertheless.

Scant seconds before they would have impacted the water Claude levelled out, directing all their momentum forwards. They skimmed the waves, a churning wake left behind their flight. The ships saw them coming, and they had to weave side-to-side to escape the giant bolas that came crashing into the waves trying to knock them out. Claude urged his wyvern on, keeping to their trajectory. Hilda, the delicate maiden, stood in her stirrups, Freikugel held in a double-handed grip as they caught up to the trailing ship. The mighty axe bit deeply into the hull and scored a great slash along the side of the ship just at the edge of the water-line. Claude had leapt from the saddle as she swung, and from mid-air Failnaught gleamed, sending an arrow straight through the neck of the helmsman.

He landed clear of Freikugel and they peeled away, circling higher to take stock of the battle. He pulled back further when the sky darkened above them and the static charge of a magic spell shivered down his spine. Dorothea's Meteor missed the escaping ships, but the wave it caused swamped over the last in the formation, through the hole Hilda had cut. The ship was listing dangerously as it cleared out of range.

~o~*~o~

Ignacius was waiting as the combatants began to return. The Immortal Corps arrived first, as they touched down on the beach the wyverns all began nuzzling in against one of their own, a cacophony of coos, clicks and chirrups rising from them as the riders slowly extracted themselves. Eventually, Claude made his way out of the flock pacing up the sand towards him.

"Duke Riegan," he greeted, somewhat coolly "now that you've defeated the pirates may we discuss the potential trade agreement?"

"First strike," Claude sighed, "we've made the first strike. But, yes, lets talk." He added, withdrawing a little further up the beach to keep watch of the wyverns fussing while Ignacius gave his report on all he'd discovered.

Brigid was rich in arcane crystals but these were formed largely under the sea where they were unreachable, although several beaches positively glittered with the tiny shards and fragments that washed up, and a number of coves and caves in the area were a veritable wonderland at certain times, when the light hit in just the right way. Extraordinarily beautiful, but not practical. The islands also lacked in bronze and steel; what little they had often sent as tithe to the Empire during their vassalage. The raids on the northern islands, where the majority of Brigid's pastures were situated in the archipelago, had depleted their livestock as well. What Brigid had was an abundance of exquisite dyes and pigments, far better than anything produced in Fódlan. Their skill in tanning and leather-work was not to be sneered at either. Above all this, Ignacius had barely scratched the surface of the fauna and the potential uses thereof; the local expert refused to speak in anything other than the Brigid dialect, and Ignacius was certainly not fluent enough to follow along what she was telling him.

Eventually the wyverns settled enough and Claude motioned Ignacius along with him as he went to strip his gear and saddle from his steed, listening closely as Ignacius began detailing potential routes and figures; how much the Victor Trading Company's ships could carry safely in either direction, likely ports and so forth. This was hindered slightly by the great beast apparently deciding that since it's flock-mate was well it must now also confirm it's rider was whole too. The wyvern's head continuing to nose round and nuzzle at the Duke, knocking him a step back at one point and growling when Ignacius made to move in and help.

"You've prepared rather a lot for a preliminary report." Claude commented as he at last stepped back from his wyvern, tack all pulled away and slung across his shoulder. The wyvern's head was once more immediately butting against his chest, ready for petting, to which Claude obliged.

"I find that over-anticipation is rarely as harmful to a deal as under-anticipation." Ignacius answered, eyes turned to watch the boats now ferrying the combatants ashore and relaxing slightly when he spied Ignatz among them. He turned back to find the Duke watching him with a look he might dare to call approving before those emerald eyes shifted back to inscrutability.

"I suppose I agree with that." Claude admitted, before nodding his dismissal "Good work."

~o~*~o~

Their companions had not re-joined them when they were disturbed a good while later. Whatever Dimitri may have discovered in Anselma's room, they did not get the chance to enquire. The King's Elite, meticulous in their duties, had discovered another passage. One even Hapi had not known of. It descended below and turned north, they'd scouted it far enough to be certain it passed beneath the river, still tending north.

Into Duscur.

Dimitri's face was grim. His gloves creaked as his fingers flexed and curled. With a word he called up the arms-master they'd brought with their convoy and suddenly the Relic Areadbhar was gleaming in his hand. Another word and Lúin shone in Ingrid's.

Edelgard steeled herself to face another long tunnel below the earth. Whatever rats were lurking beneath, they were going to flush out.

Thoughts of a wyvern:

Are you okay?

Yah.

Are you tho?

Yah, yah, wings itch a bit, not bad.

You sure?

Ye, no big.

So you're okay?

All good. :3

Okay.

Are you okay?

Ye, of course :3

ARE THE SQUISHIES OK? WHERE'S MY SQUISHY? SQUISHY STOP MOVING AND LET ME SNIFF YOU! Scritches plz. Yey!