The War in the Willows

Bramble’s brow furrowed as she scanned the ledgers, her finger tracing the columns of numbers. Thomas’s handwriting was neat, but the numbers weren’t looking good.

Seven pennies. That was all they had left. Not even enough to feed them, let alone get the other supplies they needed.

She glanced at Maverick, sleeping soundly on the bed. He needed rest, not worries about money.

Neville’s herb bag was almost empty, and without it, their healing options were zilch. They needed coin, and fast.

Bramble tapped the pennies on the desk. Maybe… just maybe… Max would have an idea. Not bending the rules, exactly. More like… creatively interpreting them.

She smiled wryly.  Yeah, that was a plan. Wake the crew and see what Max has got.

_

Maximiliano grinned, eyes sparkling. “Ah, sí! We liberate ze wealthy animals of ze local towns from ze burden of so many pennies! ¡Es un acto de caridad!”

Neville nodded solemnly. “That’s true, it must be really tiring carrying all that weight around.”

Thomas looked gobsmacked, stuttering, “W-what? No, Max, no. We can’t just… that’s… that’s…”

Morrigan sighed, “For the love of gods, can we move on? This is dull.”

Phillipe intervened, “Pardon, mais perhaps we could take on a job? Zere are plenty advertised at ze market square for those handy with a sword. Mercenary work, non?”

Bramble nodded, “Now that’s a plan. Pays coin, keeps us busy.”

Maximiliano chuckled. “Ah, Phillipe, siempre el sensato. Okay, ze job, eet ees a plan.”

Thomas looked relieved. “J-jobs. Yes. Good.”

____________________

As the group approached the market square, the atmosphere hit them like a cold breeze. It was quieter than usual, the usual bustle replaced by hushed conversations and nervous glances.

Sanders stood by the notice board, arms crossed, while Kentucky added another poster to the growing collection. The group’s eyes landed on the latest addition:

Bramble raised an eyebrow. “Northern fields. That’s where the mole was, where the Ghasts appeared.”

Thomas nodded grimly. “And they’re offering a respectable and honest amount of compensation, after taxes and other deductions.”

Maximiliano spoke up, a sly glace in his eye. “Ah, maybe we no just kill ze Cultists, sí? Maybe we interrogate, see if zey know anything about ze Necromouser?”

Morrigan raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Hmm. Worth considering.”

Phillipe nodded. “Oui, could give us leverage.”

Kentucky frowned. “Just be careful.”

Sanders added, “If you’re gonna do it, be alert. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

The group exchanged a look. This was gonna be messy.

____________________

Maverick’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a jolt.

The den was empty, but his mind was racing. The stone, the rat, the Stillwater Irregulars… it was all clicking into place.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, brain ticking over.

First, the stone appears, and they get a tip about the mole.

Then, he remembered – the mole incident, the direction the Ghasts came from…

There was a stone near there.

Same as the one that appeared initially in North Piddle. Mav’s gut told him they were onto something.

Irregulars were up to something, and it wasn’t just petty thug stuff. This was bigger.

He staggered to his feet, grabbing at his armour. He needed to get dressed, find the others…

But as he tugged on his leathers, exhaustion hit like a wave. Mav’s vision swam, and he collapsed back onto the bed, breathing hard. “Bugger… Bramble’s gonna kill me…” he muttered, passing out.