The Dustbin
Day 34: Sick Day Part 1
After a whole month of distress and heartbreak, the entirety of Garreg Mach Monastery were looking forwards to this month in particular.
The War of the Eagle and Lion, a war for Faerghus' independence from the Adrestian Empire, held through the Imperial Years 747 to 751. A battle between Loog von Blaiddyd and Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg I which marked the beginning of the Empire's decline.
A historical watershed celebrated by many, the defiance of one singular hegemony and the diversification of Fodlan's culture. The Adrestian Empire (what's left of it), The Kingdom of Faerghus and The Leicester Alliance. All three owe their existence to that fateful war, with those who lost their lives being honored and not spoken in vain.
Every year, a celebratory show of strength is held between the Three Houses. Taking place at Gronder Field, where the first battle between Loog and Wilhelm in the War of the Eagle Lion was fought, the Church of the Goddess sponsors the recreation of the first battle to show the students' progress on their studies and combat prowess. A moment where all three nations come together and celebrate their founding.
... Or at the least, that was the initial plan.
5th of Wyvern Moon, Afternoon
Due to last month's excursion taking place mostly underground filled to the brim with pests and rotting bodies, the rescue team, which included the Dustbin, has brought with them some traces of... shall one might describe as, a pestilence.
No one noticed it at first, given that last month was already beyond stressful for everyone involved, but by the time everyone realized what was happening, it was already too late.
First, a cough was heard. Then, it was spread to the others, in a middle of a flu season. In less than a week, the whole monastery grounds became quarantined, paralyzed with gravely-ill students and faculty alike. The disease itself in question wasn't lethal, but no less debilitating to the body and soul.
Symptoms included fever, sweating, delirium, fatigue, coughing and cramping. In other words, the Common Cold.
Both the leaves outside and the faces of many others turned red as autumn set in.
"... Worst case scenario..." coughed Rhea as she sat on her wheelchair manned by the masked Seteth, "... due to *cough*... current circumstances... this year's Battle of the Eagle and Lion... might have to be *cough* ... cancelled."
"And this is our problem how?" asked Karna as his face was covered in the air-filtering mask that he pilfered from the Plaguebringer's Brigands, "I mean, we're not exactly participating in it, given that the Dustbin are you know, Black-Ops?"
Seteth then hands him a stack of papers to the cloaked Professor. The latter reads through the given information before facepalming.
"... As you know..." Rhea spoke before letting out a cough, "... there are those who seek to *cough* ... profit from this chaos."
"Remnants of Miklan's cartel have been spotted around the ports and warehouses at a coastal commerce town located at the eastern edge of Hyrm," he began to explain, "a few days prior, we'd ordered a shipment of [Elixirs] from any available source to treat the ill and the shipment arrived two days later but the advertised effects failed to occur even after a whole day passed post-ingestion, for which then spurred an investigation our shipment of those [Elixirs] we spent a small fortune on..." the administrator then lets out a long sigh before continuing, "... and the end result being that our purchase literally amounted to nothing more than counterfeit blue urns filled to the brim with mint-flavored water," Seteth pointed out, "normally, we would send Shamir's group to take them out but due to our... current circumstances..." he then let out another long sigh, "... she's also incapacitated, like most of everyone here, so that just leaves with no other option but to send you of all people... to clean up the mess and stop the manufacturing and distribution of the false product."
"... I trust that your group is willing and *cough*... able?" asked Rhea.
Karna then looks away for a moment as he let out a nervous laugh. "About that..."
At the Improv-Sickbay...
"You've got to be kidding me," groaned Seteth as he saw both Byron and Vidar completely incapacitated from the sickness spread throughout the monastery grounds.
In fact, those two found in their cots inside the repurposed ballroom were part of many that were left ill en masse.
"Those two are the only ones who are from Fodlan," explained Karna as he looked at Petra and Selene volunteering as nurses whereas Topaz and Cyrus were fetching water for the former two, "... given that the sickness only applies to those native to Fodlan, I suspect that this cold might be a foreign strain."
"Wait, then how are you not infected?" asked Seteth.
"How do you think that I know about it and lived to tell the tale in the first place?" Karna answered, implying that he was prior infected before overcoming it and developing an immunity to the strain, "... first time arriving at Shangri-La, I only got through the gates in the first place because they took pity on me and well... their medicine helped."
"That explains Topaz and Cyrus, but what of those three?" the administrator pointed towards Sorcha getting into another fit onto Petra as the other twin sister held the former back.
"... You know that Brigid's right next to Dagda, right?" pointed out Karna, "... I'm pretty sure that there are some stuff that even neither we or the natives at Dagda know about. Jungles there at the south are the perfect breeding grounds for both cures and diseases alike," he surmised, "... I'm pretty sure that they're completely immune."
"Wait, Shamir's from Dagda, so why's she infected?" asked Seteth.
"Call it natural selection..." Karna suggested, "... she might've left for other reasons aside from that. Not everyone's adaptable in body equally."
"Well that still doesn't change the fact that your group's fighting strength has a third cut out," Seteth remarked.
"Or you know..." Karna smirked beneath his mask, "... you can get me to temporarily poach other immune students around here for the mission."
Seeing no other alternative besides sending the Dustbin the way they are right now would result in a suicide mission that won't accomplish anything, Seteth relents. "Fine," he growled, "but Flayn stays here."
"... Speaking of whom," he remarked, remembering what happened to her last month, "... how is she doing without her... you know?"
"Honestly, the Dustbin did one good thing," Seteth sighed out, "she can still use her Faith Magic, just not as potent but potent enough. She asked to volunteer, but I told her to stay in her room because, you know, she's ill too."
"Glad she's alive, that's all," Karna pointed out with a chuckle, "... so, about the poaching?"
At the Front Gates/the Barren Marketplace...
"Um..." Bernadetta raised her hand nervously, her face covered in the same mask that Karna was wearing, "... why am I here?"
"Give me one good reason why you pulled me away from his highness," Dedue squinted his eyes.
"I am confused as well," Petra pointed out, "but all of us are not sick. Is there a reason for it?"
"Yeah, kinda bold for you to poach a house leader for such a crucial mission," Claude deadpanned, "so spill it."
"Okay, let me get this out of the way," Karna spoke as he addressed his temporary recruits, "you spend too much time inside and we need to borrow your room in particular since it's the most secure place in Garreg Mach to keep the really, really sick ones locked inside," he spoke to Bernadetta, "you're way too bulky to get ill in the first place," the Professor pointed to Dedue, "you're immune and you faked being sick just so you can plan something," he addressed to both Petra and Claude respectively, "honestly, going by schematics alone, our team composition is garbage since none of us use Faith Magic, so hopefully, we better find any fresh not-fake [Elixirs] inside the bases of operation at Hyrm. And no, due to the monastery being locked down, the market's closed, so no fresh supplies for us."
"... Wait," Bernadetta remarked, "if we go out now, won't we spread the disease to... you know, everywhere else?"
"You think I haven't planned for that?" Karna then snaps his fingers as both Sorcha and Selene roll in a metal box with a bonfire smoldering inside, "burn all of our clothes, wash up and change into these," he then held up a Dark Mage's hood and leather robes with boots and gloves, "Church managed to get a surplus of these after the proposed Dark Magic Battalion for the Empire's military got scrapped last month. So far, these things are the most secure clothing in all of Fodlan from diseases, and yes, they're washed and sterile, so don't get your panties in a bunch."
"Uh, you do realize that there's boys and girls in the same vicinity, right?" Claude chucked.
"JUST SHUT UP AND TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!" barked Karna as both Cyrus and Topaz came out from behind the other four (both in their respective Dark Mage garbs that fit their sizes) literally began ripping the clothes off of their former peers, including their underwear (except for Petra, whom had none to begin with).
As their former clothes burned in the pyre, Karna dumped buckets of soapy water over their heads before dousing them with more water. After which, towels where draped over their wet and naked bodies.
"Hurry up and finish changing," ordered Karna as he then picked out their respective sizes (Bernadetta was small, Claude and Petra were around medium and Dedue was large), "sooner we get this mess over with, the better!"
As they changed, Sorcha and Selene then threw their clothes into the pyre before washing up, then drying up and putting on their Dark Mage garbs.
"Never thought I'd live to see de day when I wore the empire's colors," grumbled Sorcha before she placed her beaked mask over her face, "... then again, of dey aren't usin' em..."
"Then it's fine..." sighed Selene as she tried to adjust her vision behind her mask pressing against her eyeglasses, "... can ye hold me hand? Me foote gonna tumble at dis rate."
"I'm never going to get married..." sobbed Bernadetta at the indignation of showing off her goods pre-marriage.
"No one cares, you're pretty enough," Cyrus remarked, "... kinda like an animal. That's how that Goneril wench would say it, right?"
"I'll ignore the fact that you insulted my friend," Claude spoke in a repressed manner, "that said, these clothes are tight... like if they're going to melt onto my skin if it gets too warm."
"Thankfully, it's the beginning of autumn," Topaz remarked as she tugged on the rim of her gloves down her arm, "that said, how are we supposed tell who's who? Aside from our sizes, all of us look and sound the same!"
Karna (in his large-sized Dark Mage garb) begins to ponder before coming up with a semi-functional idea. "Are any of you familiar with callsigns?"
"No," Dedue (or Cyrus; the two are nigh-identical in size) answered.
"Callsigns are like phrases or names that indicates who's who, in our case, telling who's who from... you know," Karna pointed out, "... we're all having a hard time telling who's who. So might as make it easy for ourselves while not revealing ourselves."
"Sorcha and Selene ere'," one of the two Dark Mages raised their hands, their thick Brigidian accents giving them away, "I'm 'Lynx'."
"I'm 'Wren'," the other replied, implied to be Selene.
"I go 'Fox'," a Dark Mage spoke in broken Fodlanese, definitely being Petra.
"Call me 'Elk'," a casual voice remarked, indicating Claude.
"... 'Bear'," grumbled a taciturn voice, confirming Dedue.
"I am 'Mustang'!" another giant Dark Mage called out, the horse-themed name being a dead giveaway to Cyrus.
"Guess that leaves me with 'Rattlesnake'," deadpanned a short Dark Mage, the sigh being from Topaz.
"I... ah... argh... 'ROOSTER'!" squawked another short Dark Mage, who is obviously Bernadetta.
"And that leaves me with "Scorpion"," Karna remarked, "now with that said, who's going to carry our stuff?"
"... Pardon?" Elk said, not sure if his ears were working.
"This is a covert operation, and the last thing we need to do is get caught and a warehouse being set on fire, destroying all evidence," Scorpion pointed out, "unfortunately, that means we're going to have to leave Darius behind, Mustang. Apologizes, but last thing we need to do is get caught."
Mustang lets out a frustrated sigh.
"I'll do it," Bear volunteered to be everyone's pack mule, "how much and for how long?"
Scorpion then points his thumb towards a rucksack filled with a numerous weapons, supplies and other things needed for a journey.
"And as for how long," Scorpion sighed out, "... give it a week. Thank the goddess I outfitted these with actual hiking boots."
Later Elsewhere...
"... They're late," grumbled the Dark Bishop who was supposed to meet up with the Flame Emperor, tapping his foot in impatience for being held up at their secret meeting spot (an abandoned village rampant with overgrowth), "what the hell is taking so long-"
The masked Black Mage then appears before him out of thin air.
"Finally!" the Dark Bishop threw his hands up in the air in relief as he approached the envoy, "took you long enough-"
"Are you *cough* aware of what is *cough*... going on... *cough*... right now?!" hacked the Black Mage.
"Eh, no?" replied the Dark Bishop, "because my boss doesn't pay me to get involved in the affairs of others that is not one of our's."
"There's a pandemic going on," spoke the Black Mage before he let out a cough, "... as you can tell, we're kinda paralyzed for the whole month. So I have to make this meeting quick so I don't blow my cover."
"Alright, so you all got the sniffles," the Dark Bishop rolled his eyes underneath his mask, "big whoop, and I am my own grandpa. Anything worthwhile on your end?"
"... The Dustbin are heading towards Hyrm to cease a fraud operation," informed the Black Mage, "we cut off Miklan's cartel from our funding yet they still persist..."
"Potential eyewitnesses? Might know too much?" the Black Mage nods at the Dark Bishop's words, "well, thanks to you guys, we managed to nab an intact Crest Stone. Normally, either the Death Knight or the Plaguebearer would be sent to mop up the mess, but since the former might be also out sick while the latter is still being repaired and upgraded..." he then looks towards the side, "... perhaps we can put that Crest Stone to some good use."
"How?" asked the Black Mage before he let out a cough behind his mask.
The Dark Bishop then chuckles to himself before answering. "... Let's just say that our new number is gonna need to get some blood moving."
8th of Wyvern Moon, Evening
Just yesterday, the even-more ragtag group of 2/3rds of Dustbin, two Black Eagles, one Blue Lion and one Golden Deer house leader, managed to reach Empire territory on foot. During their journey, they ran into no shortage of highwaymen that tried to attack them simply because they looked creepy (the public themselves are at best, semi-ignorant of the existence of Dark Mages) or because they inadvertently trespassed into one of their many, many territories.
One of which being shaken down by the said group disguised as Dark Mages themselves. Scorpion in particular holding a Myrmidon up by his ankle and his head over a fire.
"Spill it bro," spoke Scorpion/Karna as he held the panicking bandit in an iron grasp, "the hell's with your group coming after us?!"
"Pro-I mean, Scorpion, we just intruded upon their territory," Rattlesnake/Topaz pointed out.
"I know Rattlesnake," replied Scorpion, "I'm just doing this for fun."
"That seem excessive," Fox/Petra remarked, "he already surrender."
"Come on man!" panicked the young Myrmidon, "what do you think I am?! A Death God bandit?!"
"Dat skull tattoo on yer nape ain't helpin', boyo," Lynx/Sorcha pulled the Myrmidon's collar up, revealing a print of a skull and a pair of criss-crossed scythe behind the visage of death, "care to explain?"
"WE ONLY GOT THE TATTOOS BECAUSE IT GAVE US MORE STREET QUID!" the young bandit remarked loudly as Karna lowed his head closer towards the campfire, "THE OTHER PEOPLE THINK WE'RE THE REAL DEAL, SO THEY PAY US MORE WHEN WE SHAKE THEM DOWN!" he explained, "I DUNNO IF WHERE THE ACTUAL DEATH GOD BANDITS ARE! BUT IF WE GET ENOUGH STREET QUID, THEN MAYBE THEY'LL LET US INTO HIGHER POSITIONS FROM THE START!"
"Which ones?" asked Bear/Dedue, "the Death God Bandits or someone else just as important important?"
"... Dunno what they're called, but I heard they're hiring experienced thugs like us," confessed the Myrmidon, "... they're at Hyrm, peddling something'. They're looking for bodyguards!"
The group disguised as Dark Mages all looked at each other before they all began searching the bodies for any clues.
"Anything?" said Scorpion as he searched the Myrmidon's body.
"Nothing here," Mustang/Cyrus remarked, "except for gold coins. Dibs."
"Can't find shite except for this paper ere'," Wren/Selene remarked as she held it up.
"Give me that!" Elk/Claude snatched the paper from her hands before reading through its contents, "... guys," he spoke, "you all might wanna see this."
Everyone comes towards Elk as they began eyeing through the contents, with the following being read out loud.
"If you have received this, then that means that you've chosen to join our organization," read Elk, "prior to the loss of our sponsor and most of our associates being flushed out by the Church's covert ops, we implore you to come find us and supply us with our goal of restoring our cartel back to its prominence."
"Is this it?!" Rooster/Bernadetta exclaimed, "our way in?!"
"No, you idiots," scolded Scorpion, "this is a forgery! I mean, what kind of self-respecting cabal would not write in code?!"
"Yeah..." sighed Elk as he look a closer look at the writing, "... come to think of it, I think Shamir might've written these to siphon other bandits out of Miklan's remnants recruitment pool to make their jobs of stamping out said remnants much easier," he then looked at the young Myrmidon still being hung upside down by Scorpion's grasp, "... poor kid just got played."
"Still though, keep searching them," ordered Scorpion, "red herring aside, I think this is a good indicator that either these guys got lucky or they've stumbled onto something that we might be able to find some use in."
"Found another paper," Mustang/Cyrus held up another sheet, "looks like a map."
Everyone then looks at the paper with the peculiar pattern. If one were to look at it, the formation of the lines resemble that of a man's face.
"Tell me," asked Scorpion as he pointed to the fraud message, "just when did you get this map in conjunction to this false message?"
"I... I found it at the same time as the message," he confessed, "from the same guy too. ... I-I don't know what the hell was that about, but I swear! I didn't know it was a fake!"
"Meanin' that Miklan's boyos caught onto Shamir's ruse before we did," sighed Wren.
"So what does all this mean?" asked Fox.
"It means that these idiots did the half the work for us," Scorpion remarked as he looked at the young bandit, "so, how did your sweet patooie end up on the wrong side of the road?"
"Mom and dad died from a bandit attack on the village..." he whimpered, "... it was either starve and die or steal and live. I... I joined up with the others for protection."
"Did you kill anyone during your possibly-short career?" asked Rattlesnake as she threatened him with her [Shamshir].
"... No... not really," he confessed, "I only scared folks of their stuff and made it out of ere'. Never even drawn blood. Not even once."
The group of faux-Dark Mages looked at each other on what to do next.
"... You know, we were going kill you just so that you don't squeal," Scorpion mused, much to the young Myrmidon's fright, "... but by all means, we can sort of trust you with our mission. Not trusting you to the point where we'll show our faces, but enough to... give a damn."
Lynx then blindfolds the bandit before tying his hands and feet with ropes.
"Your name?" asked Scorpion as he took off his mask.
"... Al," he answered, "guys called me 'Al'."
"Well, mister Al," Mustang took off his mask as did everyone else, "looking forward to working with you. Just be sure to not give us any reason to start watching our backs, okay?"
"... Ye-Yes sir," whimpered Al.
As soon as everyone took off their masks, everyone then lets out a collective sigh of relief of finally being able to breathe air again.
"Sweet Seiros..." Karna remarked, "... I've been through worse but... damn! Fresh air never tasted better!"
"Yeah..." Bernadetta winced as she saw themselves surrounded by corpses of numerous bandits that they've just slain, "... I think that's all things I can taste right now."
"Eh, more for me, Rooster," Sorcha called Bernadetta by her callsign to preserve their anonymity as she reached towards a pot of soup that was just moved out of the fire, "anyone want one?"
"I find the fact that you're able to think about eating while being surrounded by the dead repulsive, Lynx," growled Dedue.
"What do you mean, Bear?" Cyrus questioned, "that's how we Battu usually eat! The dead, we feed to our war dogs. They earned their kills, so they deserve a treat after every raid."
"You use dogs in war?" Petra asked.
"To be fair, Fox, anythin' and anyone can be used in war when ye know how to kill with it," Sorcha pointed out, trying to keep the anonymity intact by not bringing up their relation with Brigid, "... pansy."
"Now now, Lynx, cool it," scolded Topaz as she looked through the papers that they've received, "judging by the map we've found, this place shown is Hyrm, correct?"
"Right on the money, Rattlesnake," Claude nodded, "although, the face in question might hide the location of their base of operations," he pointed out, "there can be several ways to approach this: logical, symbolic, or practical."
"Elk, explain," Cyrus remarked as he and Sorcha ate their bowls of soup.
"Logically, the ideal warehouse were all the fake [Elixirs] are being produced would be well-defended and hidden," the Golden Deer leader explained as he pointed to the upper right of the map, "this place looks the most out of the way, while being situated near an old mining shaft that the remnants can use to scurry away as a logical exit strategy. Or so I've heard from Ordelia."
"And what of this?" asked Petra as she pointed towards the line near the ports.
"That places seems like the most likely where they're active," Karna pointed out, "decent escape route via sea, wide open space for underground commerce... practical place for a counterfeiting operation to keep its wheels spinning," he surmised, "although one problem is that while it's not exactly out in the open, it ain't as subtle as the one in the northeast."
"Wait a minute..." Cyrus then leaned back while locking his eyes at the map, "... you said that map looks like a person's face, right? I mean, I can't be the only one who notices that!"
Deude squints at the map and realizes that said face looked familiar. "... And here I thought Fe-I mean Bobcat's accusation of Sy-I mean, Wolverine being full of himself was semi-unwarranted," he sighed, "guess it really does run in the family."
Everyone silently agrees as they all look at Miklan's visage being shown in the map formation traced out by the lines drawn out by whoever drew it in the first place.
"... Well, going by purely symbolic terms," groaned Topaz as she pointed to the map's "scar" lying at the middle of the port city, "... I'd surmise that here is where they lie," she pointed out, "logistically speaking, they're begging to be besieged by a greater-numbered foe."
"Yet the easiest for the bandits to find," Karna replied, "or at the least, for those who can think outside the box."
"So what then?" asked Petra, "there too few of us, and if we split up, we get too weaker to fight all at once."
"So as long they don't notice us that is," Karna pointed out, "this is where the 'covert' part of this mission comes in," he then set the map down where all of them looked around at it (sans Al, who is currently under Karna's butt right now), "we'll have to tackle all three of these locations without getting caught. Three groups will be formed for the scouting formation. Me, Elk and Al will act as the frontmen in case we run into Miklan's group. Wren and Rooster will act as lookouts to watch our backs. And finally, Lynx, Bear and Fox will be the main muscle. They'll be the first to engage any hostiles that might catch wise of us, preferably without raising an alarm."
"Doable," nodded Dedue.
"Alright with that said..." Karna then looked around the dark forest, "everyone, get some sleep. I'll act as lookout."
"Are you sure?" Claude asked, "you been acting as lookout for the past few nights. Think you can use some sleep too, you know."
"Your concern is appreciated, but unwarranted," the Professor replied as he put his mask back on, "all of you need to sleep because you're young. It's the adult's job to make sure that the young don't die before the old."
"... Goodnight, I guess," whimpered Bernadetta as the others situated themselves onto the dirt once more, drifting fast asleep to the sounds of the flames crackling and the autumn wind howling throughout the night sky as Karna watched over his group under his sentry-like eyes behind his lensed mask.
"... Uh, hey?" Al spoke out, "... can you get off of me? My shoulder's starting to cramp."
"Oh suck it up."
10th of Wyvern Moon, Morning
After another 2 days of traveling on foot, dealing with the cruel wilderness and bandits alike, the group disguised as the now-defunct Empire's Dark Mage Battalion arrived at the region of Hyrm. Near one of its coasts were an array of warehouses that lined up next to each other, intertwined with other residential districts that were once crawling with civilians and workers alike, now being patrolled by the Empire's Fortress Knights to ensure that the pandemic doesn't spread person to person.
"Okay, avoid those guys at all costs," Scorpion ordered as he peeked around the street corners, "... gonna be impossible to explain ourselves regardless."
"Just right above is the first hideaway," Elk remarked as he looked at the map, "... we're gonna have to go the long way around."
"So be it, Elk," sighed Scorpion as he led the ground around the winding alleyways of the city, dragging Al from behind as they made their way through the streets of the port city.
The group continues evading the patrolling Fortress Knights as they made their way towards the old warehouse near an equally-old (and defunct, once the veins for iron dried out) mine shaft. Little by little, the slowly reached their first location at the outer fringes of the urbanized zone.
"... Looks empty," Rooster remarked.
"Watch our backs," ordered Scorpion as he, Elk and Al walked towards the old warehouse while Wren and Rooster acted as lookouts outside near the warehouse with Bear, Lynx and Fox on standby in case a fight breaks out.
The three first then press their ears against the walls, only to hear nothing but silence. "... Think this place is empty?" asked Al.
"Either that or the Empire got to em first," Elk remarked, "... so where do we go from here?"
"Front door," Scorpion suggested, "I have a cover story just in case, so follow my lead."
Scorpion then opens the warehouse's doors only to find no one inside except for mice and crates.
"... Nothing but abandoned merchandise," grumbled Scorpion, "and given the presence of the Empire's military outside... I think's safe to assume that the operations are also hampered, if not paralyzed as well."
Al then opens up one of the bottles before sniffing it. "Smells like mint," he remarked before trying to drink it only to be stopped by Elk.
"Please, don't," he shook his head, "don't leave any evidence behind."
"There has to be something we can find around here..." grumbled Karna as he searched the warehouse only to find nothing but more crates, not even a trace of written orders or anything of note, "... this place is a bust. Let's go."
"Where?" asked Elk, "definitely not the inner streets with all the troops on the ground."
"That just leaves the port," Al pointed out as he put back the false [Elixir] (that he didn't drink, he swears) into the crate, "... so another long way around?"
"Silver lining," Elk pointed out, "bandits aren't going anywhere."
At the Middle of the Port Town...
"Come... on..." grunted the Dark Bishop as he dragged a slain Fortress Knight out of plain view and where the killed bandits of Miklan's remnants were at, "... why do they... have to... make these thing... so heavy?!"
"Be glad that you're the one not facing them, Odesse," a black-clad Assassin remarked.
"Shut it, Dolofonos!" Odesse snapped at his Assassin compatriot as he let go of the dead Fortress Knight upon reaching the pile of dead bodies, "... stupid pandemic paralyzing over half of our forces... and it ain't even our fault!"
"I'm just glad that I'm away from her," Dolofonos remarked curtly, "then again, she wasn't good for anything other than, well, killing people. Damn hellion..."
"Yeah yeah, love you too, ye fucking lazy-ass bitch..." grumbled Odesse as he approached the giant iron coffin with the label "EP-02" etched below a circular window reinforced with a bronze border around it, "... you got the thing?"
The Assassin tosses a small pouch tied in a knot before the Dark Bishop catches it before juggling it around the air a few times. "Careful!" he scolded, "you know that people died to get this Crest Stone, right?!"
"You seem fine," snarked Dolofonos as Odesse grumbles before inserting the Crest Stone of Cethleann into the iron coffin.
"Alright baby, let's see what you're made of!" Odesse exclaimed as the thing inside the sarcophagus roared to life, "... BTW, you got the other thing, right?"
The Assassin then takes out a giant, machete-like blade sheathed in a wide leather scabbard. "I can see her face right now," he snickered, "being denied such a powerful weapon..."
"Eh, what can you do?" shrugged Odesse, "the Plaguebearer was at best, and experimental rush job. Hopefully this one fares better than our last one."
"... The more of these animals that it can kill, the better," Dolofonos snorted in semi-bemusement, "may those beasts wither and die... that's what Myson would say, right?"
"Either way..." the Dark Bishop giggled in anticipation of the thing inside the coffin coming back to life, "... the whole town's gonna be painted red before the end of tomorrow."
Near the Docks...
"My legs are on fire..." Rooster whimpered, "... we walked for too long..."
"What are you, that Goneril girl?" sighed Mustang as he picked up the lagging Dark Mage and carried her on his back.
"Please stop insulting her," Elk remarked, "she's a friend of mine."
"I WILL NEVER FORGIVE HER FOR HUMILIATING ME BY TRYING TO MAKE ME HER SERVANT!" snarled Mustang.
"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?!" Scorpion barked back as he led the others across the ports, with all the ships anchored to the docks due to no one actually doing maritime trading as of now.
"You know, we never did confirm how we will find the active warehouse, did we?" Al pointed out, "you mentioned 'port warehouse', but never specified which one!"
"Agreed," Bear pointed out, "going door to door is impossible when the warehouses number in hundreds."
"I'm thinking, I'M THINKING!" Scorpion exclaimed as he then ponders how he can tell which warehouse was the one where the remnants were at.
First, all maritime trade was halted, meaning that the only warehouse that would need their boats out into the open would be the ones that need to be set out as soon as possible. Okay, that means that I have to look for a readied ship in the docks... he thought as he looked from ship to ship, ... which one though? Come, think! You've been kidnapped once! Surely the ports should show some signs of activity prior, right?!
Scorpion then began lining the two and two together. First is that all the ships' docks were barren, meaning that no one was in a hurry to get out into the sea. No crates or barrels. Nothing of sorts, no cargo, no cats meowing about, absolutely nothing.
... Save for one, whose docks were already littered with fresh barrels and crates next to the docked galleon. Scorpion then halts the group before signaling them to hide behind one of the inactive boats. After waiting for a few seconds, one of the warehouses then open up to reveal twin males in their mid-30s, both sporting a brown bowl-cut and a noticeably trimmed beards. One of them was an Assassin, evidenced by the cloak he had around his neck and a [Killing Edge] sheathed behind his waist while another was a Sniper, evidenced by his minimalistic steel armor and a single pauldron, with a [Killer Bow] in his hands.
"Found em," Scorpion grinned, "I'm assuming that they're this joint's co-chiefs of operations."
"Hey... I recognize one of em..." Elk bemused at one of the twins, "... one of em is Pallardó Davino!"
"Know him?" asked Rattlesnake.
"A small-time merchant and even smaller-time crook on the side," explained Elk, "the Alliance's Ruling Council took away his license to practice trading after he was caught defrauding several customers for selling goods at prices more than they're actually worth. Upon Fodlan's richest woman uncovering him, it's safe to assume that he linked up with Miklan's cartel after going out of legitimate business to line his own pockets once again."
"Any prior knowledge of him having a twin?" asked Mustang.
"First time hearing and seeing it as well," sighed Elk, "... although that does explain why prior to Anna's involvement, the people who filed the complaints prior... kinda 'disappeared' soon after. Seriously, last I heard, they only confirmed 3 out 43 bodies, and that was last year."
Rooster whimpers without a word upon hearing such deed.
"Okay, then which one's Pallardó?" asked Al.
"Who cares," Scorpion replied as the twins went back inside the warehouse, "they're both scum."
"Chance's gud as any to jump in now," Lynx pointed out, "same formation as de first?"
"Elk, Al, with me," Scorpion ordered, "Rooster, Wren, watch the outer exit and our rear. Lynx, Bear, Fox, how fast can all of you run?"
"I am quick," Fox raised her hand.
"I'm quicker to kill dan er'," Lynx jabbed the former.
"I'm quick enough to remain steady," answered Bear.
"Good enough," nodded Karna as he led his "front man" team, "alright, get your war faces on. We got a fraudster to stop."
"You know that one of us is the only one who has a visible face, right Professor?" snarked Elk.
"I think that's the point," Al deadpanned before getting his "war face" back on.
As soon as everyone got into their positions, Scorpion then knocks on the front door.
"Password," a voice called out from the other side, to which Scorpion slid the map with Miklan's visage under the door.
The door then undoes its locks from behind before opening, revealing a gruff Brigand holding a [Hammer] in his burly hands.
"We'd like to see your boss," Scorpion remarked while leaving out that they spotted twins leading the operation in order to avoid suspicion, "we're with the Flame Emperor, and we'd like to negotiate our terms."
"... Come inside," sighed the Brigand as they all went into the warehouse, leaving the other five outside to keep watch.
"Now what?" Wren asked.
"Act natural," Bear suggested, "with the bandits thinking that we're with the Flame Emperor, the least we can do is act as if we're the security detail."
The five nod in agreement before dispersing throughout the surrounding area.
Inside the warehouse, the thee infiltrators looked around to see various gang laborers intricately crafting and molding counterfeit urns using an actual [Elixir] bottle as reference. After which, the finished mold from the pottery wheel is then inspected for quality by a specialist to decide whether it is approved or discarded, with the former going inside the ovens to finish the crafting. After which, the finished bottles are then moved to a boiling cauldron full of boiling mint leaves and other herbs. Normally, an [Elixir] tasted no different from any other medicines, that being bitter and unpalatable to regular people, with some brands choosing to add honey into the mixture to make sure that it goes down easier. Here, they're trying to achieve the same flavor and aftertaste without having to go through the process of adding healing ingredients into the concoction (normally lasting years of fermentation and pickling of certain, state-protected ingredients not known to the broader public), ending up with the same product that tastes just about the same, but holds as much healing properties as a basic herbal tea that nobles drink for recreation.
Scorpion himself is rather impressed on how organized they were, but given Pallardó's prior profession, it's safe to assume that his more cutthroat "practices" served him relatively well in the criminal underworld.
"Boss is beyond this door," spoke the Brigand, "and who's the patsy?"
"New meat," Elk replied, "saved his hide after he pissed off the wrong kind of people."
The Brigand grumbles to himself before opening the door, revealing the twins sitting behind a work desk, showing a hint of professionalism behind their criminal veneer.
"What's this?" the Assassin remarked as he raised an eyebrow, "those two got lost at a carnival or something?"
"They're with the Flame Emperor," the Brigand remarked, catching the Sniper's attention before leaving the office, "apparently, they're here to renegotiate."
"He's right," the Sniper twin remarked as he came back in, "my guys saw a few of them dressed the same as those two outside. Might be their security detail."
"And that kid?" asked the Assassin.
"New guy," Brigand replied, "saved his butt a few days ago."
"Alright, git," the Assassin then waved his hand away from the Brigand, dismissing his strongman out of his room, leaving only the five of them inside the office, "so, renegotiate, huh?"
"Where the hell were you guys last month?" the Sniper pointed out, "our associates were getting murdered out there! The whorehouses got shut down, our arms trafficking routes got intercepted, and right now, even the individual states are clamping down on us! The only reason why we're still afloat because we managed to sucker the church into buying our fake [Elixirs]!"
"Sorry, we had our hands tied last month," Scorpion remarked, "had to infiltrate the Church itself, almost all of our escape routes got cut off, and we were only saved last-minute after being marooned behind enemy lines. Kinda sucked."
"... Ugh, fair enough," the Assassin buys the (technically true) lie, "where are my manners? I didn't even introduce myself," he stated as he got up, "my name's Pallardó Davino, and here's my twin brother/co-leader of this outfit, Mosquera."
"Pleasure," Mosquera shook Scorpion's hand before Elk's and Al's, "what about you guys?"
"Elk," the Dark Mage greeted.
"Al," said the young Myrmidon.
"Scorpion," answered the leader of the front man team as he shook the leaders' hands, "a pleasure."
"Likewise," Pallardó remarked, "... so, about the renegotiation?"
"Yes," nodded Scorpion as he tried to come up with a lie on the spot that sounds logical enough to come off as a truth in a first glance, "... last month's excursion... while it was a success, the cost-benefit analysis showed that we lost a bit more than we'd initially thought and we're now running a little bit into the red," he lied on the spot, using last month's incident as context, "we lost Metodey in the line of combat, and our recent Fortress Knight with a heavily modified armor got put out of commission and he's the one draining our resources."
"So we're both suffering," Mosquera sneered, "so what do you got for us to make us give you what you want?"
"For one, the Flame Emperor likes to reestablish a partnership between us again," fibbed Scorpion, "a simple case of 'united we stand, divided we fall'," he pointed out, "given our current circumstances, we're not going to last if we don't look out for each other. What do you say? How's that to begin with?"
"Yeah, but what are we getting out of this?" Pallardó pointed out, "we ain't working for free, and since this is a renegotiation, I'd like to adjust my terms of service as well."
"Oh boy..." Al grumbled.
"We want to raise our cut of the service from 10% to 15%," demanded Mosquera, "if we're going to stick our necks for you guys with fewer numbers, then we want compensation to match!"
"He's got a point," Elk played along, "we're both in the red."
"Alright, but in turn, we're raising your tribute," Scorpion remarked as he looked at Mosquera, "like you said prior, we're both suffering. So in turn, we also demand the cooperation to match."
"More of our men thrown to the wolves?!" Pallardó remarked in surprise, "you know that we already died for you idiots once, right?!"
"We're going to die at the hands of Fodlan's collective might anyway, so might as well decrease our chances of dying like said idiots," countered Scorpion.
"Just what are you Flame Emperor schmucks trying to accomplish anyway?" Mosquera asked, "attacking and infiltrating the Church? Hiring us for goons and resources? What are you planning? Spill it!"
Scorpion himself doesn't know what is happening regarding to the Flame Emperor's design. However, given each context clue of what was happening (Kosta's involvement at Reimre Village and Zanado, Lonato's attempted coup, the constant Church infiltrations, and Flayn's Crest being removed from her person) and what they spoke of (mostly coming from the Flame Emperor, given that he seems to be the front man/leader of the outfit), he can do a little guesswork and come up with a close-enough hypothetical right here and now.
"... The truth is, gentlemen," Scorpion began speaking, "is that we are, by essence, revolutionaries," he faux-revealed himself, "the current society is a blight of classism, racism, nationalism, and countless other -isms that people are relegated to nothing more than mere sheep, with the Church as the 'shepherd' and the three nations of Adrestian Empire, the Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance as their 'sheepdogs', deriding all those who 'stray' as the 'wolves', with our glorious leader as the 'false shepherd'."
... Damn, Elk/Claude thought as he heard Scorpion/Karna's improv, if I didn't know any better, I'd assume that he's the Flame Emperor himself.
"In truth, we seek to liberate all of Fodlan from the old ways," continued Scorpion, "no more crests, no more nobility, no more Church, no more systems that choke and stifle human potential. A world where all people can freely chase after their dreams. A world where we all can choose our own destinies, and not by some ephemeral whore whose buttocks are glued up in the sky telling us what to do."
... Sweet Seiros, Al thought, the man just called the goddess a whore? I'm surprised that he hasn't been struck by lightning for that blasphemy!
"So, with that said, we all have nothing to lose but everything to gain," Scorpion concluded his improv speech, "what do you say? Shall we join forces once again?"
As the proposal was offered to the head bandit twins, outside, the other five disguised Dark Mages kept watch at the surrounding perimeter.
"Argh... this sucks," groaned Rooster, "why are we out here?"
"Would you rather go inside the devil's den behind us?" Mustang sarcastically suggested.
"Nevermind, I'm good!" Rooster rebuffed her last statement.
"Rooster right," Fox remarked, "it is too quiet here. As if life itself... fell asleep."
"Finally, we agree on somethin'," Lynx sneered.
"She as a point," Wren remarked as she looked around the allies, "... not a single echo of the Fortress Knights and der boots. Can't even hear a single squeal."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Rooster remarked.
"No," Bear retorted as he took out his [Steel Axe] from the rucksack, "... it's usually a bad thing."
Up ahead in the waters, a lone galleon followed by two smaller corsairs with their sails folding into their masts were spotted.
"... Someone said that the ports closed due to the pandemic, right?" Rooster pointed out.
Wren then takes off her mask and her glasses to see what's happening up ahead. "Uh, guys?" she spoke, "the big boat's sides are rolling up somethin' and I'm seeing smoke."
"... Ship?" remarked Rattlesnake, "smoke?!"
Everyone then knew what was about to happen next.
"EVERYONE! GET BACK-"
A volley of eruptions echoed from the waters ahead, before the whistling of speeding cannonballs closed in towards them, causing all of them to scatter before the projectiles landed and burst open giant holes into the stone streets and the splinted wood of shot ships and breached warehouses alike, killing all those who didn't get away in time.
"... Uh, guys?!" Wren rubbed her eyes before spotting the mast erecting a black standard depicting a bird's skull crossed with a pair of a bat wing and a spear, "... they raised a black flag. I see a bird skull."
"Black flag? Bird's skull?!" Rattlesnake then remembers that specific standard, "... I know them."
"Who are they?!" asked Bear.
"Pirates!" she answered.
At the galleon christened The Anzu with its figurehead depicted as a winged lion, a certain man wearing a white turban with a blue gem planted in the middle wearing a flowing trenchcoat over his tunic and sash, around his waist being a sheathed [Shamshir] and a single flintlock pistol tucked behind the cloth band wrapped around his waist.
"Look over there, ye scallawags," spoke the lead man looking through his telescope, "no guards, no ships, nothing but a naked town with a few idiots begging to be shot at."
The men behind him all laughed out loud.
"Capt'n Kasim!" one of the crewmen spoke, "the corsairs are ready to make landfall. When do we move in?"
The captain of the "Anzu" wickedly grins. "Fire a few more shots," he ordered, "then we ransack the whole town."
"Aye aye, capt'n," he saluted before Kasim turns towards his men.
"ALRIGHT YOU LOUTS! YOU KNOW THE DRILL!" he barked out, "KILL EVERY SCHMUCK THAT TRIES TO RESIST! TAKE ALL THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN ALONG WITH EVERYTHING THAT'S NOT NAILED DOWN! BE SURE TO SPLIT THE LOOT EVENLY, EVEN FOR MY PORTION! AND ABOVE ALL ELSE?!"
"LEAVE NO WITNESSES!" they all shouted in unison, "FOR WE ARE THE FORTY THIEVES!"
"THAT'S RIGHT!" Kasim snarled in turn, "OUR CLIENT'S A ROYAL AND HE'S PAYING US A SMALL FORTUNE TO FILL UP HIS WAR CHEST! SO MAKE ALL OF US HAPPY AND WE'LL ALL BE HAPPY! IS THAT CLEAR?!"
"AYE AYE! CAPT'N!" they replied.
"THEN WHAT ARE YOU ALL WAITING FOR?!" Kasim barked out his next orders, "LOAD THE CANNONS ALREADY! ANYONE WHO SLOWS DOWN, I'LL CUT EM INTO QUARTERS!"
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes: ... There is no such thing as a quiet month for the Dustbin. Everywhere they go, it'll inevitably end up as a clusterfuck, no matter how illogical things get, the world will always be out there to kill them.
So, the adaptation for the "Field of Eagle and the Lion" has a bit of a twist to it. Mainly, being on the verge of cancellation due to a pandemic. What? The Dustbin spent half a month inside the sewers, of course the rats are gonna carry something in their hides. In flu season/autumn of all times too.
Admittedly, this whole arc was inspired by the Archer Season 2's "Placebo Effect" episode, mainly the whole [Elixir] fraud plot line. Then I got bored and decided to turn the whole covert mission into a bomb waiting to go off. Because no matter what, the Dustbin are going to end up in a lot of trouble, even for something as simple as a covert mission.
Also, behind the scenes, the Flame Emperor's sponsors are about to conduct a field test with their "EP-02". After the affair with the Plaguebringer, needless to say, this one is about to kill way more people than just the bandits. More on that in a bit.
So, about the ragtag collab between the Dustbin and the other poached students. Originally, I was going to put Shamir into this chapter, but given how proficient she is in-story with her covert missions, I thought that her involvement would end the arc too quickly. Might as well kick the Dustbin in the balls again, and let the other students share their pain. And of course, the one leading the counterfeit operation has to be the bandit guy from Anna's Prologue along with his body double/twin brother.
And for my inclusion of Three Hopes, eh, I'll incorporate some elements into the fic, but the story ain't going to be too different from the Three Houses story. Just a bit more chaotic.
And for the relationship between Karna's Dustbin and the Flame Emperor's shit? Oh trust me, they're nowhere near done pissing each other off with one disgusting act after another.
References:
- Cyrus's remark upon seeing Bernadetta in nude (against her will, along with everyone else's) is a reference to the manga Thank You, Isekai!, where one of the two main characters gets reincarnated into a little girl (the other gets reincarnated into a semi-tall/comparatively bombshell elf-chick).
- The whole callsigns idea came from me watching Top Gun: Maverick along with the codenames that the Phantom Thieves use in Persona 5. Hell, Bernadetta's callsign is the same as Lt. Bradley Bradshaw's. I might also have some influence from Hotline Miami too, but since there are no actual animal masks involved, the reference is scant at best.
- The fake Almyrans/Pirates are based off the Forty Thieves from "Ali-Baba and the Forty Thieves", with their leader Kasim, being named after Ali-Baba's greedy older brother who took more than he can take and got drawn and quartered as retribution (now made into the captain's preferred method of punishment to anyone that irks him). And yes, the young bandit's name being Al is a reference to Ali-Baba.