[Mkguild] Reliefs and Leaves of Absence (1/?)

[Nathan Pfaunmiller]

Hey there! It's been a while. I've had no lack of ideas, but just haven't
actually gotten around to writing anything. Here's a little bit of
something to get me back on the horse.

(And anyone who can, please let me know if the way I handled the entry to
the Keep and debriefing scenes makes sense)

---

With the gates reopened and regular patrols resuming from within Metamor
proper, it was only a matter of time before those who had been trapped
outside of the walls were given permission to return to the Keep. Alex and
his company had received the news at the same time as most of their
fellows, and together they had formed a small caravan on their way home.

The mood was much higher than it had been in quite some time. While
everyone kept their guards up in case of attack, neither bandits nor lutins
were daring enough to attack a score of Keepers all at once.

When at last the walls of the Keep rose up in front of them over the tree
line, a cheer went up from the returning soldiers. Alex kept his reaction
much more subdued, though he could not prevent the smile that spread across
his muzzle. He glanced at the rest of his patrol, each making eye contact
with a smile of their own.

Lois was the only exception. The ermine walked with a small limp due to his
injuries, dressed now in a hodgepodge of mismatched clothing that certainly
preserved his modesty but still left him looking like a child who had been
left to dress himself. While the majority of places within the Keep's
valley kept a large variety of clothing on hand to deal with the multitude
of different shapes that they regularly encountered, that did not mean that
all of the clothing was either well tailored or designed to pair well
together.

It was not the clothing that caught Alex's attention, but rather the
expression on the ermine's face. The man's keen blue eyes still suggested
an introspective wit, but unlike his companions he stared at the walls with
a mixture of ear and uncertainty written across his features. He slowed his
steps as he glanced upwards, almost colliding with those who pressed in
behind him before shaking himself free from his thoughts. Only then did he
notice Alex's gaze, acknowledging his captain with a nod.

"Are you well, Lois?" Alex inquired.

The ermine turned his gaze back to the walls. "Well enough," he replied. "I
just… I remember these walls differently."

Alex frowned. "It has been a little while since we last approached the
gates," he suggested. Still, they both understood the truth. The ermine's
mind was still muddled after foreign magic had briefly taken his body. Some
things he remembered quite sharply, but others were unclear, or even
entirely incorrect. Lucy and Balrog both indicated that there was no
foreign magic present, so the ermine and his commander were both left to
wonder if his memory would ever recover.

They were met at the last bend in the road by a human woman wearing the
symbol of the Watch. She approached the front of the group with no concern
for rank and hailed them.

"Good to see you," she greeted. "Where are you all coming from?"

"Hareford," came the reply.

"Very good. Stay with your patrols and enter the gate on the left side.
Patrol commanders: report to George's office immediately to debrief. We're
working to get you some rest as quickly as possible."

The need for the directive was obvious as they continued forwards. On the
right side of the road, caravans had been stopped in a line and were being
processed as quickly as possible by the Watch and some irregulars from the
military. The returning Keepers received a few scowls as they made their
way through unimpeded, but it seemed that the process was being handled as
efficiently as possible while maintaining security.

It would be a little while before business at the Keep returned to some
form of normalcy.

Alex bid quick farewells to the others at the third gate, making for
George's office while they all made for the barracks to return what little
remained of their supplies. The scene around the jackal's place of work was
different than Alex could ever recall, likely some work of Kyia to ease the
burden of work. Several tables had been set up along the length of the
hallway with scribes quickly marking down information as the patrol
captains spoke to military representatives. George himself sat at one of
the makeshift desks, and the lynx made a special effort to join the line
leading to his table. It moved quite quickly, and when Alex made it to the
front the reason became quite clear.

"Name?"

"Alex hin'Valius, sir," the lynx replied. "May I speak with you for a
moment?"

The jackal gave him a long-suffering look. "I have a lot of returning
patrols, Alex, and I need to process them quickly. Did you suffer any
casualties?"

Alex sighed. "Vincent Lois was affected by unknown enemy magic. He is in
good health and there is no trace of magic remaining." The scribe to
George's left took quick notes as he spoke. "Sir, please–"

"If there are no lasting injuries, that will be all. Tell your companions
that your patrol has been authorized for a ten day leave. At the completion
of the ten days, you will report back to my office for a new assignment."

"Sir, please."

George met his eyes. The old jackal's past made him gruff and
unapproachable to most, but those who had worked with him knew that he
cared about his men. Alex just hoped that he cared enough.

"I'll give you a couple of minutes." The jackal turned his head and barked
for someone to take his place at the table. Waving to Alex, he made his way
to a door that might not have been there in the preceding moments.

"I trust you can appreciate the challenges of managing patrols at this of
all times," George remarked as the door closed behind them. They found
themselves in Goerge's office proper, a private enough little chamber that
would keep their conversations private. "I trust that you know better than
to waste my time?"

"Yes, sir." Alex took a breath and steeled himself. "It's about Lois, about
the magic."

"You said he was well."

"His body is well," Alex clarified. "His mind has been somehow affected. He
does not recall how to fight, and his memory has been somehow confounded.
We did all that we could for him, but–"

He cut himself off, letting the information sink in with his commander. The
old mercenary strung together a few colorful oaths and shook his head.

"One way or the other, this bloody assassin is no end of trouble," he
griped.

"Lucy intends to keep working with him, as does a friend of his– Balrog,
from one of the other patrols. They'll do whatever they can."

"In the meantime, I expect that he's in no fit state to go on patrol?"

"Not likely," Alex confirmed.

"All right. I'll have the scribes put down to extend him a medical leave
and we'll check in with him and return him to the active patrol roster
whenever he is ready. You'll have to make due shorthanded until I have time
to find you a substitute." He maintained eye contact for a moment, waiting.
"You wouldn't have pulled me aside for that," he said at last. "What else
is there?"

Alex's eyes darted away to avoid the patrol commander's perceptive gaze,
but he could not deny that the jackal was right. "It's…" He gathered
himself, and at last lifted his eyes once more. "Am I doing something
wrong?"

"Alex?" George's tone was uncharacteristically gentle.

"Since I've taken command of my patrol, I haven't had one mission without
incident. One of my dearest friends lost his leg, Lois very nearly lost his
mind, and despite how much I've trained and how cautious I have been,
something always happens."

"You have had two incidents, Alex, and you haven't lost a man yet."
George's expression was understanding, but the gruff jackal had years of
experience to give him perspective.

It also made him very perceptive.

"You still haven't really recovered from what happened to your former
captain," he asserted.

Alex dropped his eyes again, struggling to maintain composure in front of
his commander. "Sir, I–"

"Go home, Alex," George advised. "You have the time. In fact, I'll see that
your patrol gets a full two weeks of leave to give you time enough to
travel."

"I won't know what to do with myself for two weeks," Alex quipped with a
wry chuckle, trying and failing to sound convincing.

"You'll figure it out," George assured him. He clasped the lynx's shoulder
with one gray-furred paw. "Get your head right, kid. We need you out there."

George didn't give him time to reply before heading back out. Alex took a
breath to steady himself, and realized as he did that his commander was
right. It had been far too long since he had been home.

It had been too long since he had gone back to Glen Avery.
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