act22side

It's okay... Tarans are the same, no matter where they are.

I once visited the Scáthanna Fields, myself. But they didn't have rules about lights-out back then.

Ó, I'm guessing you're from a nomadic city, then?

Bell-ringing as law has been around for years. Used to just be out on the barrens, to mind whoever tried sneaking into whatever count or viscount's hunting grounds at dead midnight.

Bell rings, we snuff the lamps, and fires go out too. If someone in the barrens lights a fire to herd beasts at this hour, you can see it clear as day from miles and miles away.

But muck-ups like today only happened once the new rules got stricter. Those night patrol tossers see anyone in the street, they snatch 'em.

There, Fionn. Calmed down?

Suppose so...

...Er, where's our medicine? Are we all out?

Take a guess?

...*sigh*. Shame about my fountain pen. Can't even note my own debts now.

Stealing is what we're doing. Don't think you have to make up for it with what you've got.

How many days have we been outdoors now?

If it's not midnight yet, then it's day 12 for us.

Alright. Twelve days, and we've barely gotten far. I keep thinking if only it'd clear up, I might see chimney smoke or something from a village.

We've just been hounded by the army, chased around in circles here...

Be honest, do you really think we can make it out?

...What happened with you two?

We had a little confrontation with the patrol. They sent a warrant out for us.

Fionn!

Let me talk, Fergal. I can feel, this lady's a good person.

When the patrol came here to make arrests, they summoned everyone who had a record. And then they started with the beatings, so we fought back...

You didn't, Fionn. Don't give yourself credit.

Ugh, okay.

We hadn't done all that bad, really, truth told. One family ran after they couldn't pay tax dues, so the patrol was dragging all their relatives in by the scruff for questioning. Fergal was brewing a little moonshine just for himself, and I'd missed some formalities while selling stuff.

*sigh* We'd always owned up properly too, whatever it was. It all got too much that day.

It wasn't just us two who scarpered once the patrol started beating. It's ten or so of us, all summoned that day by the army. We all ran at once.

But if the army wants someone, there's no escaping it. That lot won't change their tune just because someone's word says they're innocent.

You ended up killing someone?

Yeah, we did two of 'em in. Got one straight off with a hoe while they weren't on guard, the other we laid low in the whole scuffle.

Shame we let the third one do a runner, or else the army'd never know about what we did.

Hey! We wouldn't be in such a miserable spot if we'd had one night more of a head start.

...Fergal, you think we could... give ourselves up to them? I could do it alone, even. Just can't stand these days on the run anymore.

We didn't even nab the medicine. Oran's cut's just festering away, and he's... I can't take it, I can't.

You drop the bloody idea. You think they'd make it easy on you?

Bloody wouldn't. They'd torture you first, crush your spirits.

Two minutes with someone like you, and they'd get everything about us pouring out.

Look. We've got no meds. Torture by sickness, that's torture all the same, yeah?

Are you—short of medicine?

Haha... we were sent out to rustle up some more, I'll say. They're waiting for us, a decent ways back somewhere.

We were here planning to buy it, honest.

But we knew in our heads, all the shops'd shut the moment lights-out sounded. We'd never make it in time beforehand.

So we got a rough idea of when the patrol changes shifts, er, and we smashed through a shop window... I thought they wouldn't notice around about then.

...God.

...You? Guessing you're from the city. What got you out in this desolate a place?

...I'm searching for some things.

Do you—know about 'Dublinn'?

Yes, I understand.

I have some—antihemorrhagics and bandages on me, actually.

Mr. Fionn, I saw you were hurt... we should sort that out.

Oh, you noticed? It's nothing big, really...

But—if you're willing to share a bit of medicals with me, that'd be fair play.

Our mates are hurt far worse. I'd bring 'em to them, if that's okay.

Er, they got bit by gloompincers.

In that case, I can go with you...

That way! We have footprints in the mud, leading that way!

It's the Tara rabble behind the arson! They're around here, no doubt!

—Q-Quick, hide!

It's... it's a whole unit, half a dozen people, they're shining their torches this way!

Quick, bend down, come this way! It's solid ground here!

It's alright... those soldiers won't dare to move too fast through the marsh.

—Shh.

(Fionn, I can hear your teeth chattering!)

(I... ngh...)

A torch flashes over them.

Reed grips her spear tight, the metal warming, hotter and hotter.

Well, that's shite! How come you lot get torches?! Pisses me off just seeing you!

Dublinn?!

Get her! She's got info, no doubt!

Get me? You're codding me!

Peuch! What're you slinging mud for?

Ugh—

Come on, Fionn, we've got to help her! Don't be a coward!

Alright, alright, okay...

Urgh—!

Hah, couple of fresh boys don't take much to sort out.

Hey, Fionn, Fergal! You made a right hames here, didn't you? Would've kicked the bucket if I didn't come looking, no?

No, yeah. Saved our skins. All thanks to you.

I told you, see, all this smashing and looting business might be beyond me...

Wait, what are you doing, Selmon? It's enough to knock them out. You're going to kill them all?

Aren't we going to be more guilty for that?!

Same difference! It doesn't matter how guilty if they're after a Taran—you get taken in, you're not coming out alive.

*sigh* It makes a difference in my head.

Coward. You watch, I'm gonna do all these Victorian bastards right and—

Stop. Don't do that.

And who do you think you are?

Hah, what's the staring for? Gonna be a tattletale? Just you try.

Tattle? No, you're not even part of Dublinn. Why are you... dressed like that?

Why are you copying the Spectre Force's methods?

—And on what basis do you claim that? You some Dublinn know-it-all?

Er, calm, now, Selmon.

She's just a doctor. She was doing a runner with us just now...

...I think she's a good soul. I told her all about us.

Right, um, doctor... what you said about taking a look at our wounded, is that still valid?

Selmon, honest, you need to cool it... We mucked it all up. We didn't get the medicine. This kind doctor says she can help us, so that's all we can rely on now.

Tch, leave me out of this. Seems this doctor here recognizes my clothes.

...I'm sorry, I'm not a doctor.

But I still want—to try and help you.