Elise

Pressure. It had been building in her these past few days, since she’d come back from her leave of absence. She’d felt torn between the regiment and her family before, but never like this. Now, with the two sides at odds again, the sense of split loyalties was growing, getting too much to bear, and she’d never been one to rationalise things for too long before making a choice.

Her idle musings pulled her to her feet, and she began wandering the deserted Command building. They’d moved into Trinsic, and the place was gradually sinking back into the swamp, with nobody there to tend to the regular shoring up and repairing the old girl needed to keep her habitable and above the murky waters she was perched on. Even now, as Elise wandered, a muffled rolling of rubble and planking told her yet another section of the place had fallen.

She gave a short, mirthless laugh, comparing herself to the ruin she stood in. The Regiment had abandoned them both, and yet they were meant to shore themselves up, and remain loyal regardless. “Sod THAT!” she said aloud, her voice echoing in the silent, damp hall and reverberating back into her own ears. She stood for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the stairs in front of her, grown rickety and rotten with neglect, and nodded, just once, as though some decision had been reached.

Then, she turned on her heel and strode purposefully out of the building, taking one apologetic glance backwards at what was left of it. As she walked away, she absently pulled a length of verite coloured cloth from her backpack, tying it around her head, her letter of resignation practically composing itself, so that by the time she reached Strongholt, she headed straight for quill and parchment, scribbled for a while, then attached the completed document to the fastest pigeon in the roost, letting it loose and watching it fly off into the distance.

As the carrier pigeon dwindled to a black speck against the sky, Elise felt a small pang of regret that she couldn’t rebuild the ruins or undo the neglect. She shook her head, then smiled, and headed down the stairs to her family.

After all, why rebuild a ruin when you have warmth and comfort elsewhere?

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Reed

Reed snored happily in a deep drunken sleep leaning on his desk on the top floor of the Marksmen Command Building. He saw very little of any others there over the last few months. The long distance to travel was too much for most nowadays, especially as there was nothing to come all that way for now that the stores had moved.

Whas.. ebal..wihh..

Reed stired a little as a slighht rumble came from the Western part of the building. He slowly raised his head and peeled off the paperwork that had glued itself to his cheek with suliva. Looking down at the paperwork he blinked his eyes hard.

Nothin` i`por`nt..

He threw the papers to the floor as he swayed himself upright. He looked to his left and to the tapestry he had hung to cover a large crack in the wall. The crack grew slowly larger and a soft grinding noise rung through the office, similar to that of flour in a turning grinder. Looking over to the doorway where the door once stood, Reed realised the building was no longer safe.

Uh oh...

He staggered out of the doorway and down the stairs, falling at the last two in his stuper. Leaning on the wooden replacement wall that there was Reed shook his head and tryed to compose himself. As he did so the planks on the wall fell in, the bottom rotten with swampwater. Reed fell through the air for one level and landed with a squelch in the swamp bellow.

Seems the swamp is good for one thing.

He murmered to himself as he stood up, brushing himself down and dripping with slime. He then looked up at the crumbling structure and did a drunken half salute before turning on his heels and marching in "S" shapes towards Trinsic.

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RAAAAAA!