The Small Falls rush over a series of stone 'stairs', each measuring perhaps six or seven feet in height and maybe twelve to fifteen feet in depth with a merry roar that fills the air.  Around the course of the river ferns and other undergrowth abound in the mist thrown up from the falls.  Towering overhead, enormous oak and fir raise mighty boughs to a sapphire sky.
            The glen Robin guides Turf to is small and surrounded by fern, cattails, laurel, and brambles.  The Ranger eases the man down onto a fallen log.  Setting the bag of medical supplies Nowise gave her onto the needled floor, Robin elects to remain standing.  She waits a moment for Turf to catch his breath and get somewhat comfortable.
            Then her face hardens.  "Tell me what you told Reid."  There is no trace of a playful happy girl now.  Robin is a Ranger of Arden.  A warrior, a killer and an extreme no-bullshitter.

He gulps and looks at her.  "He knew about the raids.  He asked me who our leader was.  I told him.  A man named Girth."  He looks terrified.

Robin makes a 'let's have it all' gesture with her hand.  No other motion or emotion showing on her face or person.
            But her focus sharpens dreadfully.  Every movement, every scent - dilation of pupil, heartbeat, sweat - Robin's keen senses lock in on them all.  And she makes sure that Turf knows it.  There will be no lying or hedging to Oberon's grand-daughter.

He's panicking.
            "That's all he asked!  I told you!  He did this to me! "  He says, pulling open his shirt and showing the tattoo to Robin.  "I told him everything he asked but he didn't want to know more than Girth's name!  Please!  I'll tell you anything I know..."
            To Robin, the drawing on the man's skin looks like a trump.

"Breathe Turf."  Robin commands casually as she squats to examine the tattoo more closely.  A low whistle of appreciation emerges from the girl at the *art* emblazoned on the man's chest.
            Removing one gauntlet, Robin lifts a hand to Turf's skin.  She just has to check if it's cool to the touch.

Turf breathes in and out, not quite hyperventilating.  He watches her hand as she reaches out for her chest, as if he fears she will reach into him and pull out his still-beating heart.
            The image is not cold, but the texture of his skin reminds Robin of old parchment.  It is as if the place where he has been tattooed is on the body of an old, old man.

"Okay."  Robin stands back up and puts back on her glove.
              "Turf.  Breathe more slowly.  Then tell me everything you recall about your first raid."  She looks at him with her head cocked and lays the force of her personality upon him to calm him into a factual recitation.

(GMs - you can definitely summarize if you want.  What Robin will be listening for is place names & descriptions.  People names & descriptions. Where were drop-off points for people?  And pick up points for supplies?  Etc.  And mostly she wants to get a feel for how 'hostile' the raids were.  Were women raped and children killed or abandoned?  People killed if they didn't keep up the pace?)

Place names are mostly Primitive: the camp, the valley, the north trail, the south trail.  Some people were calling the camp "New Amber", but it was a bitter joke.  There's a place called Erewhon, but Turf hasn't been there.  Girth is nominally capturing people for Erewhon to add to their army for use against the savages, but he doesn't really trust Erewhon, and he's probably going to turn on them when the camp gets strong enough.
            He describes how they capture people, using nets, horses, and the threat of violence.  They weren't supposed to kill if they didn't have to.  He was captured himself, 10 years ago, when he went into Arden to look for food.

"And this place?  Where is this?"  Robin points to the tattoo.

"I don't know."  He shakes his head.  "I think it's where I was captured.  Girth knew the area but we didn't.  We had to be careful where we went, because of the savages, the Erewhonese, or getting lost in the forest."
            Robin notices that either Reid took some heavy artistic license, or the place is in shadow.  Those trees do not look like any of Arden's species.

The Ranger's green eyes trace over the image, carefully rendering it to memory.  Somehow she doesn't expect that her artistic, shadow-walking cousin freshly returned from a 1500 year accidental side-trip took any license.
            "Close your shirt, Turf." She commands absent-mindedly as Robin rubs her chin in thought.  Eventually, she just nods and gathers up the medical bag.
            "Anything you need before we head back?"  As she looks back to Turf, her expression loosing some of its severity as the wheels continue to turn Robin 's mind.

"No, ma'am.  Girth said we'd never get back to Amber.  I can't see as what I should've done different, ma'am.  'cept not taken on the old man."

Robin smiles friendlily.  "Not my concern, Turf."
            The Ranger escorts Turf back to the main grounds of No-Sun.  Once they're back among people, she calls for Nowise.  If Nowise is bound back for Brousailles, she'll ask that Turf be taken there as a incommunicado prisoner under Nowise's care.
            Nowise accepts the prisoner back into custody. He's heading back to Broussailes in the next day or so; he's using the intervening time to see whether any of the Holdouts will be useful to him as-is.

Then she'll hunt up Julian.  She wants to draft Totter and Needle as her men ('Warrior' and 'Scout' respectively.)  Her theory is to then have each of them collect three rangers, mixed Holdouts and Returnees on each team, though she'd suggest that Cranny be on Totter's list.

Totter and Needle are available. The rest of the force will be Cranny, Rain (new), and Avid (Holdout) for Totter. Needle recruits Bay (Holdout), Pistil (Returnee, senior), and Marquer.

Robin thiiiiinks about it when Totter brings up Avid's name, enough so that Totter would be sure to notice.  In the end, she just nods.  But the flash of her green eyes indicates there should be some watching done on that one.
            The choice of Marquer gets a rueful chuckle from Robin - a team that has both Marquer and herself on it is.... likely to get some interesting results.

She wants to ride for Girth's as soon as Needle and she are clear of initial reintegration duties, but no later than tomorrow morning.

They can be provisioned and ready to ride in the morning.

Good.  Robin nods happily and spends the rest of the day in a fine flurry;

Doing integration work -- going over names and where they should be stationed.  (One particular concern of hers, now that she's accepted responsibility for the Holdouts, is how to reward those who will be retiring.  She's not real keen on the idea of land grants given the recent tensions with Garnath.  She also doesn't like the idea of a retirement bonus, too much like paying them off.  She wants those who will be leaving to feel rewarded and know that they have the gratitude of Arden, but she's not sure how to achieve that.  Robin's also assuming that those who have Returned either too injured or with no desire to remain in the Rangers would get the same... thingee.  <sigh>   Any suggestions from anyone else?)

That's not an issue to be resolved in a day. Julian needs to take that question up with the Crown, and thus it will need to wait until Random returns.

And setting up rotations, routes and communication channels for the shallows patrols, and generally meeting and greeting old friends.

As velvety twilight falls over Arden like a warm blanket, and the friendly sparkle of torches, candles and bonfires begin to twinkle through No-Sun, Robin finds herself drifting away from her frenetic day.  Choosing one of the mighty green giants that whispers over the Small Falls, the Ranger climbs swiftly with sure feet and hands.  She gives a happy chirrup as her blonde head breaks through the canopy and the girl settles herself on one of the top-most swaying branches of a magnificent pine.
            Alone, alone, with good friends and her father nearby, Robin breathes out a sigh of contentment.  All around her the Green moves and whispers, creaks with the voice of the trees, keens with the call of airborne hawks, rustles, hushes, bubbles and rushes.  A snatch of strummed music from the camp below drifts past to be caught on the evening breeze and lifted to the rosy gold clouds that feather the sapphire sky.
            Robin finds her arms lifting to the sky, reaching out over the life all around her, feeling the air, the freedom and the unity of the world around her.  Without conscious volition, her lips purse and a whistled paean of joy rises from her to dance around with and blend into the Green around her.
            As twilight melts into night, Robin returns to herself.  Casting ironic eyes toward the peak of Kolvir, Robin remembers many nights spent in giants just like this one, watching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lights of the Castle coming on against the darkness.  She remembers the eyes of a girl, who wanted nothing more than to go where she was forbidden to go, know what she was forbidden to know, and who ached to prove herself and her birthright before those Giants who were her kin.
            A snort ripples through Robin's frame.
            It is a woman's eyes who look past the mountain, with its tawdry prizes and malicious manipulative 'Family', its triumphs, its failures, its prideful past and uncertain future.  It's a woman's eyes who come to rest on the sea, dancing rose and gold in the last fading light of sunset.
            And it is a woman's lips who smile.

In the morning, Robin is raring to go.  Her gear is packed and her horse prancing as the rest of her team gathers.  Though, despite her eagerness, she takes a moment to say goodbye to her Father.  Robin's learned the lessons of goodbyes well and makes sure that Julian is definitively hugged and kissed.

Julian is rarely demonstrative in private, much less before the Rangers.  However, he returns Robin's embrace with more force than usual. "Should you need me, do not hesitate to use my Trump," he tells her quietly but very firmly. "Especially if things begin stirring from Arcadia."

"Absolutely!"  Robin nods in complete agreement.  Her large eyes indicate just how much she doesn't want to be separated from her father again with the paths getting all shifty in Arden and Dragons coiling in the mist.  *But* she's got a job to do and so does he.  So she puts a brave smile on and lets her normal antsiness guide her.
             'I'll send word as soon as we're done.  Don't have too much fun without me."  She grins, kisses his forehead once more.  And tears off for her horse in lively leaps.
After bounding into the saddle, Robin wheels and calls her men after her with a piercing hawk's scream that echoes after her even as she rides out of the clearing.
            Robin pushes hard for reaching Girth's in the best time possible while allowing for her men to reach the outpost still fresh.  Once they are some hours out of No-Sun, the Ranger briefs her team on their mission. 
            She won't mention Reid's name, just that a member of the Royal family was investigating some disappearances from Amber City.  That they joined up with what seemed to be a refugee caravan leaving the city via the trail that begins in the first elm grove north of Rainer's Point.  That the caravan seemed to have traveled through Arden proper a little ways before slipping into near-Arden.              When they stopped for the night at a place that Robin thinks she can get to, they were hit by a coordinated C&C maneuver.  That Robin's injured guest was captured from the attacking party.  And named the leader of his forces as Girth.  Description matching.
            Soooooo, she's figuring on riding over to Girth's and seeing what he has to say.  At this point, Robin shuts up and sees what the reactions of her various men are.

Surprise, anger, some denial.  Girth is well-liked and the rangers don't see what he'd be getting out of such a deal.  Girth never really did have much to do with the city, or the city folks.  While Vista is equally adept in the forest, Garnath, the city, and the castle, Girth is almost never outside of Arden.  It was Girth himself who let a car with Random and Corwin drive past, holding Prince Julian at knifepoint.
            Girth's post is deep in the woods, so the troubles with Garnath were usually dealt with by Rangers from Broussailles or Whistling Pines.  Girth's post and the Rangers there mostly dealt with threats in the woods.  Girth has a reputation for personally taking long missions into Arden.
            There is some concern that, if Girth has gone rogue, he'll be hard to capture.  But Robin gets the feeling that if he simply denies it, his accuser will be considered discredited.

Robin nods as the men talk.  It's pretty much an echo of her own feelings.  The girl fondly remembers learning deep trail protocols from Girth.  And yes, she just doesn't see Girth as a shallows pirate.  But she's also pretty damn sure that her source wasn't pulling her leg.  Sooooo... she figures there's more to this story than Girth the Rogue Ranger or **** the Lying Hill Manipulator.
            Which is why she wanted a team like this - diverse and expert -- on the job.  She wants to get to bottom of this without accusing anyone of anything.  The job is to *fix* the situation.  And not get riled up into a place where people are picking sides.
            If Girth has gotten himself off into the Depths, Robin figures she's the deep diver to track him down.  But she's counting on the rest of the team to keep their eyes open and their ears sharp for what's circling.
            Robin will suggest to Totter and Needle that during the ride to Girth's that lots of team-building be done.  If this group does end up in the depths of Arden with the war shaping up, she wants all of the Rangers familiar with each other's styles and voices.  And most of all trusting one another.
            During breaks and off-watch shifts, Robin starts working on a couple of small projects involving rabbit skins, a pair of small thrown pots and a medium weaving that she stores in her saddle bags during the rides.

The rangers arrive at Girth's.  An appropriate distance out, she spots a scout and hears his message to his runner  "Rangers approaching Camp."  A second message is directed towards her "?".  It's generally good news: the Ranger post isn't having any crises and is asking her group if they need urgent help or dinner for 6 or if they need to prepare for a Royal Inspection.
            Robin hasn't been to Girth's in some time, and the nearby forest seems even deeper and greener than before.

Robin whistles back a cheery "dinner for 12" response.  After all, there's nine rangers on her team, and one of them is her.  In this way, she lets the camp the there's nothing urgent.  No point in coming in hostile.  Better to see if Girth is there before going all 'full-frontal.'
            As they ride in though, Robin keeps on eye on the growth.  Tasting it with a mental tongue, just checking... to see if it reminds her Heather Vale.

Yes, but it's much more subtle.  Robin is not sure if she'd've even noticed if she hadn't been looking and hadn't been in Heather Vale.  Of course, this part of the Great Forest was always close to the deeper green and especially to the side-paths that lead to places even rangers don't always come back from.
            It's the furthest Ranger outpost from Castle Amber.

The Ranger catches Needle's eye, and flashes a quick series of signals -- 'watch for green trouble.'  She indicates the foliage around them.   
            And as they approach Girth's, Robin makes extra sure that they are still in Arden and that this path knows its in Arden and that Girth's encampment knows its in Arden.

Robin thinks she has an effect on it, but she can also tell that if she pushes it very hard, she'll slip off into shadow, or at least away from the encampment.

She doesn't push it.  Though the slipperiness of the wood does bring eyes narrowed in smoldering resentment.

The encampment is a small stockade in a natural clearing.  Rangers based out of this place are on the furthest, longest patrols, and more than one team has set out recently as the weather has cleared up.  There is a paddock for their horses, and Girth is standing in the doorway to the cookhouse, leaning on a crutch.

With one hand raised in friendly greeting, Robin canters in at the head of her men.
            The Ranger rides expertly over to near the paddock and dismounts with a youthful bound.  "Hey, Girth!"  She calls out cheerfully as she passes her reins to Needle.
            Robin strides toward the man.  "What happened?"  One gauntleted hand gestures to the crutch.  "Finally run into something with too hard an ass to kick?"  She's teasing, but concern lurks in her green eyes.

He shakes his head.  "Monster out of shadow rolled in here.  Not one of the normal things, like a wyvvern or a gryphon, either.  Some sort of lizardy-thing.  Dropped my horse on me, which is how I got this.  It's a clean break, so I'll be walking again, if I'm smart enough to give it time to heal.  We've got a patrol out looking for the beast.  It should've been easy to track, since it was dragging my horse's carcass, but we lost the trail.
            "What brings you this far out?  Did our messages finally get through?"

Lizardy-thing?  Robin raises an eyebrow at that.  Combined with the vegetation, the Ranger's mind is painting a picture she doesn't like.  At all.  But she answers Girth's questions before asking her own.
            "Messages?  Didn't get through as far as I know."  She shakes her head in concern.  "We're just relaying... Girth?  You had any contact in the last two weeks?  And how long since that patrol left?"

"Oh, yes.  We knew you were back, after all.  And about Prince Julian's return, of course.  And the king, too.  We sent a rider back looking for a little help here.  I'm not too mobile, although I can cook."  He looks a bit unhappy.  "I hate being laid up."  He shakes his head.  "Come on in, I've got to keep at supper.  We're packed pretty full here, tonight."

"Of course."  Robin claps Girth on the shoulder and accompanies him back into the cookhouse.  Though not one of the Ranger's pre-eminent trail cooks by any means, the girl can certainly cut and chop and stir and baste and what have you.
            "What kind of help were you sending for, Girth?"  She says, concern still wrinkling her forehead.

"Someone with more medical knowledge that I have to either get me over the infection I had with this, or else to saw it off."  He replies.  "Luckily, it got better without surgery."  He grins and slices an onion into fine pieces.  "Some of the boys didn't think I was gonna make it."

"Oo, Girth!  You want I should have a look at it?"  Robin croons in belated worry.  As she fricasses the life out of several carrots. 

He grins.  "Not until you wash off that carrot juice from your fingers."  He looks back at her.  "But yeah, it'd ease my mind a bit if you did. After supper.  I don't think it's a risk at the moment."

"K.  And *just* for you, I'll wash my hands."  She grins back with a wink.

"Think the infection was related to the lizardy-thing.... 'cause Vista sez it was the Dragon who took Heather Vale."
            She looks over at her fellow ranger, deep concern swimming in her green eyes.

"The thing about them Chaos monsters, especially at the end, was that they wasn't really similar to each other, except that they all stink."  His face gets dark.  "We heard about Heather Vale, too.  Damn shame we lost a man there.  And I haven't heard of the Dragon being active since... well, in a long time.  It's not good news."

Robin nods soberly as she returns to her vegetable mayhem.  "There's something... I don't know... strange about the Green 'round here, Girth.  Reminds me of the Vale.  Don't like it.  You notice anything?"

His scowl deepens.  "Yeah, the deep green is stirred up.  We're keeping patrols further back than usual."  Girth looks out from the kitchen to the dining hall to see who is there, satisfied he turns back to Robin.
            "There's talk it has to do with the Warden's son.  Story is he hit Vista, and that the man we lost at Heather Vale was trying to help him and he wasn't having any.  I've shut that down, but I can't say as the rumors aren't true, because I don't know."

"I wasn't there.  So I don't know who hit who."  Robin shakes her head.  She's not going into rumor territory either.
            "But Vista says it was Artemis who showed up to claim the guy.  And it seems like he wanted to go with her.  Despite the Warden's directions.  Julian is determined to get him back."  She blows a puff of hair off of her forehead.  "Hell of a mess."  Is her conclusion.
            "Sooooo..."  the girl scrapes her load of orange hash off the cutting board and into a pot, "looks like we're at war with Arcadia."  Her eyes dart over to Girth's.  "And we better watch the Green real careful-like."

Girth sucks in air between his teeth.  "So you either came here to prepare this as a forward outpost or to pull us back to sustainable lines.  Do the rangers with you know?  Because all the ones here do by now if that's the case."

"The Warden and Vista are on primary war-detail, though I should be joining them shortly."  Robin starts working on chunking potatoes with a shrug.  "I pulled special duties."
            Those green eyes come up to look Girth in the eye.  "First, I'm forward for re-integration.  I need to know if you got Holdouts here who are only going to be bait in the upcoming tussle.  I got a duty for 'em that'll let 'em keep their honor without getting any of the Sapbloods killed."

'Well, it'll be a while before I'm running through the woods leading a war band.  Other than that, we've got good men and women here.  There are still some posts we abandoned 10 years ago, of course.  Back when we were fighting the first war."

The Ranger cocks an eyebrow.  "Posts?"  She's not really sure why Girth brought that up.

"This one's too exposed unless we're manning the others again," he explains.

"Second," a pause as Robin stops the tuber carnage and uses her hearing to make sure their conversation is still very private, "I'd like to talk about a guy I ran into, who sez he knows you."  The girl's voice holds a weird mix of sympathy and steel.

"Yeah?"  He shrugs.  "There are those that do.  I've been a ranger for a long time, met a lot of people, including some as weren't so happy with the outcome of it.  We hold closer to the border now than we did 10 years ago, but still not many of the city folk get lost in the woods.  It's pretty much them and Rangers."

"This guy's name is Turf.  He was nabbed by Osric's son, while attacking a bunch of people the Crown Investigator was traveling with.  In Arden."  Robin puts down the knife and looks at Girth, hearing and seeing her old friend with all her senses.

Girth pops a carrot wedge into his mouth as he considers.  "Nope, we haven't seen any trespassers this deep, and I don't recall the name.  Is this related to that business with Badger?"
   
"Nope."  Robin says with a slight furrow in her brow.  "That stuff hasn't come up yet.  Or at least the Warden hasn't mentioned it to me."  Robin definitely has a no-news is good-news approach to the whole issue.  And, to those who know her well, the tiniest squirm of guilt in her movements.
            She leans back against a table edge and rubs her chin thoughtfully.  "Girth?  This guy, Turf, gave a bang-on description of you, name and all.  In a place where he couldn't lie.  Talked about a 'New Amber' and an 'Erewhon.'  And a slave trade moving from Amber Port through Arden.  Reid backs the route, but avoided being nabbed enough to be guessing at the slave part."  Robin's tone of voice is thoughtful.  She's trying to see how this could work with all three men telling her the truth.  The universe is wide and tricky, so it's very possible, she just doesn't see it yet.

"If someone is claiming to be me and trading in slaves, I would want to meet that person.  When was it that I was supposed to be doing all this?"

"No shit."  Robin nods sympathetically in response to Girth's sentiment.  "Turf implies that the raids have been goin' on for a while.  Maybe years.  Reid was hit just a few days before the coronation..."
            She thinks some more and raises an eyebrow to Girth.  "You said you weren't up to runnin' through the woods.  But I got a starter spot for my warpath.  You really want in?"

Girth moves a pot back from the fire so that it cooks more slowly.  "If that's where I can best serve the Lord Warden, then that's where I'd like to be.  I reckon I'd be less of a worry with you than somewhere else, and you know I'm good in the deep green."
            He thinks for a moment.
            "You know the marked paths have been shifting, moreso recently than the drift that happened after the war.  If someone's leading slaves from Portside through Arden to some city we don't know about, some place not in Arden, how the hell are they getting back and forth to do it for years?"

A low disgruntled whistle emerges from the girl as she shakes her head and returns to the tater massacre.  "Every time I try to figure that, I *know* I don't got enough data.  There's too many possibilities - some with really ugly consequences.  So I'm figuring to fly out there and see what's what."
            Robin cocks her lips ironically.  She's much better at getting *out* of stuff than at figuring it out before hand.
            "Warden said it was my call.  And yeah, I think I want your take on this one, Girth."  She smiles at him.

He nods.  "I think this war has been a long time coming, lass."  He looks at the kitchen.  "Let's get our rangers fed.  Will you be telling 'em what the state of things is at dinner?"

"As soon as you think they should know."  Robin nods.  This is still Girth's place and his men.  But she definitely doesn't like the look of the Green and is feeling a might jumpy.

"They'll have to know when I cancel the spring patrols, so we might as well tell 'em now.  No sense lettin' em wait for the other boot to drop."  He looks out the door and calls out to a ranger.  "Light, get in here and give us a hand putting this on the table!"
            The meal is cozy, the hall is built to hold this many, but few more.  The rangers mix easily, although the group that came in with Robin seem to look
to her for cues.

Robin is friendly and open, talking and laughing with Girth and the others at her table.  Though only the occasional biscuit is bounced off of someone's head.  From Robin, this is clearly someone who has something serious on her mind but is not going to let it ruin a good dinner.

After the meal is finished, Girth stands up.  "Well, any that don't know some'at of the news were napping all afternoon, but still it needs tellin'.  It's war in Arden and Prince Julian leads the Rangers to it.  We're canceling the patrols and we'll be having new orders.  Robin was with the Lord Warden a few days ago.  I'll let her tell you what our roles will be."

"Thank you, Girth."  Robin stands up and looks out over the faces of her friends, companions at arms and green brothers.  She can't help the grin that spreads across her face.  Despite all that these last years have visited upon them, these are still the *best* bunch of guys in all the universe.
                And the work that lies before them is unmixed good honest work with an actual hope of making a difference.  No damn civil war, fighting against traitors and uncertain of their own faction.  No lost war fought against an infinite horde of hell-spawned monsters burrowing continuously through the heart of all they've sworn to protect.  No holding the line with no supplies, no personnel and no Defender.
                Robin smiles because it's time for Arden and Arden's to come into their own.  And she lets that passion, that conviction carry through all she has to say.

In summary mode -

1)  Robin confirms that Arden is going to war with Arcadia.  She lets the Rangers know that Julian and Vista are point on this and that she will be joining them shortly once her current duty is seen to.
            She lets them know that Artemis did indeed enter Arden and attack Ranger personnel in Heather Vale.  That there was Dragon-sign there and that the Vale is no longer a safe part of Arden - if part of Arden at all.  She knows the guys are up to it, but she warns them to watch the Green very carefully in the upcoming times.  Especially given the shiftiness of the marked places.
            She knows that Julian is planning a mobile front, not one based out of any particular encampment, though he is considering the staffing of Brita's Watch.  So she's figuring that the men of Girth's should sleep with their packs nearby and dirt near the fires.
   
2)  Relevant to that - Arden has been closed by the Warden's order and the King's command.  No civilians will be allowed entry with the following exceptions that Robin is aware of - Solange, Vere, Jovian and his dragonriders.  Wryly, she'll add that anyone who tries to halt King Random deserves what he gets.  With regards to other members of the Royal Family, Robin figures the guys can use their best judgement.  But as far as non-Familia?  They stay out, by whatever means the senior Ranger en locale feels is necessary.
            Shallows patrols are be being formed now.  Mostly out of Whistling Pines, Brousailles, No-Sun and Ruby Falls, though some Rangers of Girth's may find themselves assigned to those duties.

3)  Robin tells the Rangers that enemies of the Crown kidnapped Brita at the Masquerade.  That Brita is alive as far as Robin knows and that *her Family* (complete with shiver for anyone who has truly riled up the Redheads) have banded together and gone to get her.  In the meantime, Robin and Needle are the go-to people until Brita is back.  Which given that Princess Fiona is on the job, should be any second now.

4)  She lets them know that Robin and crew are only going to be in Girth's for a day or two more at most.  Robin's got some huntin' to do, but she's going to be around taking a peek at the Green here while the guys get sorted.

In the end, Robin's grin just won't quit.   She knows it's serious business but her  confidence is high.  Cause after all, these guys are Rangers of Arden.

Robin's confidence is infectious and the Rangers seem excited about the prospect, except for the older ones, who haven't been very talkative since Robin said 'Dragon'.  A few faces, the oldest ones, look even more grim than the Rangers did just before she left for the Black Road.
That night, Robin would want to...

1)  Check on Girth's leg to see if she can help and what exactly his ability is going to be during the upcoming adventure.

It's healed, or healing.  Unless it's a deep infection, it'll get better or there'll be signs it needs help.  Probably worth checking every day or so.  If things go bad out there, it could be very bad.

2)  Talk to some of those grim-looking senior ranger types to try and start assembling a picture of her opponent(s) in the upcoming little fracas.

Some of them remember the last time Julian tried to fight the Dragon.  They're not worried if it's her kids, but there was some terrible fighting back in the day.

3)  Take a quick look around the outskirts of Girth's, sneaky-like, to get a feel for the Green and its encroachment.

Your most immediate guess is that any patrols that have gone out are probably already in shadow.  You can stabilize it for yourself, but it's pretty far along the way to being completely unsafe.

4)  With the impressions gathered at that (if any), sit down with Cranny, Needle, Totter and Girth and discuss the viability of leaving Girth's encampment manned.  (Another factor in this decision would be how many Rangers are stationed at Girth's.  So.... how many Rangers are stationed at Girth's?  :)

Usually less than a score, with as many more on long-or-short patrol routes.  More in the winter, less in the summer, when more Rangers can be further afield.

Robin comes back from her scout around with a contemplative frown on her face.  And, after talking with the other seniors, comes to a decision.  Tomorrow morn, Girth's is to be closed.  Fires buried.  Portals sealed.  Perishables packed.  Those damn map and pin things stored for transport.  Sign to be left for any Rangers who *do* manage to get back here from patrol.
            But by tomorrow noon, she wants the whole kit and caboodle on the road to Brousailles.  She'll lead and make sure that the trails stay firm under their feet, but she figures the Warden needs men this deep-crafty for his war effort now.  Instead of having to mount a find-em expedition in the future.
            She'll collaborate with the others on best methods, but there it is.

The camp is packed, stored, or sealed in record time, and the entire group is ready to be on the road by terce.
            The now-larger contingent packed lightly, and with some doubling, managed to get all the rangers on horseback.  About an hour out, Robin notices that she's needing to adjust the trails.  Ninety minutes or so out, Robin comes to a large, unexpected ravine.  The place feels real, but the ravine seems old and overgrown.  She can try to go around it or abandon the horses and have her rangers climb down.  There might be a trail down upstream or down, but it's not obvious from here.

"Uh-huhn."  Robin grunts pragmatically, eyeing the ravine with suspicion.  There are so many reasons why that is so not good.
            With a few short hand-gestures, she lets Totter know that they'll be stopping here briefly and to set up a *tight* sentry ring, no one to stray beyond her influence but eyes in every direction.
            Dismounting, Robin approaches the ravine cautiously, senses on high.  The Ranger crouches down at the edge, her head cocked.  (Can she tell the source of the Real ravine? Does it feel like Family or Arcadia or something else?)

It feels wild, unfocused.  There's a stream here, in reality, but there's serious water down below.  The Green is below.
            She hears cadence in a bird call.  It's Totter.  Potential Hostiles in Area.  Tracks only, no one spotted.

"Yep, yep, yep."  Robin mutters to herself disgustedly.  She stands up, wiping her gauntlets on her thighs in unhappy swipes.  Place reeks of ambush.
            Trying her best not to feel like a silly girl spooked by shadows, the Ranger reaches into the breast pocket of her shirt.  Robin pulls out the hinged wooden case therein that holds her most precious possession, the Trump of Julian.
            Her mood as she flips open the case is one of definite irritation.  But if someone is blocking her way back towards Amber, they're doing it for a reason.  And Robin isn't about to get involved in a lot of heavy reasoning right now.  She's got other tracks to follow.
            The sight of Reid's Trump tucked into the other side of the case brings a quirked smile to Robin's lips as she teethes off one of her gauntlets.  Tucking the glove under one arm, Robin gently strokes the cold image of her Father with bare fingers.  And Calls to him.  "Sir?"

After a moment, there is a question in response. "Who?"

"It's Robin, sir.  Nothing immediate.  Sir?  That thing that your siblings did with passing the army back to Amber?  Can you show me how to do that?"  Robin is biting her lip, still concerned that she's over-reacting, but also not wanting to be bogged down by a confrontation she can avoid.

Julian is in an encampment. Vista stands nearby, clearly taking orders and preparing to relay them to the men. "You can hand them through to me if need be. What is the difficulty?" he asks, with typical Julianic understatement.

"When I got to Girth's, sir, it was teetering on the edge of Deep Green.  And the area was looking a might Vale-ish for my taste.  I'm thinking that they've already lost all patrols.  So I pulled the men out and was making a trail for Brousailles."
            Behind Robin's quietly murmured and matter-of-fact words, the girl's impressions of the former encampment swirl to the fore of her mind.  The slipperiness, the sense of a lack of safety, the hint of otherworldliness in the vegetation, and the fact that she's had to constantly work and concentrate to keep herself and her men where they need to be.
            "But someone's plunked a very large, Real and Green Ravine right across our path, sir."  Again, Robin's impressions of the ravine – sight, sound, and other – flow to the top of her mind.  "And Totter's reporting hostile tracks in the area."
            Robin's eyebrow goes up.  'See, Dad?  Ambush-to-be.  And I'm not supposed to attack them yet.  Dammit!'

"You were right to contact me. Pass your men through, and come through yourself. Vista and I can use them, and you."
            Beside Julian, Vista straightens, as if getting ready for possible hostile incoming, or perhaps to bark orders at the newcomers.

"Yes, sir."  Robin nods and with her gauntleted hand gestures to her men.  A spiral withdrawal guarded and centering on herself.  Horses and gear to be included as the girl has absolute confidence in her father.
            Meanwhile Robin's mind darts all around.  A flash of irritation at herself that her father knew she needed his reassurance regarding the decision to call him is mixed with absolute gratefulness for Julian's sensitivity and response to the need that she shouldn't have had in the first place -- gaaah!  Behind that is the frustrated howl of a little girl who didn't get to finish her mission melded into a burst of predatory anticipation that now she really will get to get to the war right away – wahoo!  All of this leavened heavily with Robin's joy and relief that she did get through to her father this time and that she hasn't ridden off into... *that* again.
            But the main course Robin's mind flies is that of a senior Ranger getting her men together and moving in an orderly fashion while at the same time covering their backs and oh by the way, this is only the second time she has successfully used a Trump – ick! – so she'd better lock down and pay attention.  Because... are there such things as Trump accidents?
            By that time the first Ranger should be at her side and Robin puts all of it out of her mind and gets to work.

The horses have to be led through, but they can be laden with goods. It takes some time to hand them all back, a weary work that seems to bother Julian far less than it probably does Robin. But perhaps half a glass later, all the Rangers are in camp, and Robin herself steps through to her father.
            "This is thirsty work," Julian says. "Vista, have you got these men settled?"
            "Close enough, my lord."
            "Then we shall retire for a drink, and counsel. Robin?" Julian offers his daughter his arm to lead her to the command tent.