Phillips raises his hand, and the Indian file checks its pace before halting beside a muddy cart track. Brigid remains with the rear of the column, while the Scottish recruits close ranks around their firelocks.
William Hendrick Phillips
Here. A recent heel mark, a twig broken inward, and cloth caught on the thorn. Someone followed us after the ridge.
Phillips kneels beside the track and lifts a torn scrap of dark cloth between finger and thumb. The print is fresh enough that damp soil still shines along its edge.
William Hendrick Phillips
Otsí:io and I can take the trail now. We should learn whether the watcher is alone before he reaches the trees.
Captain Robert Rogers
Not with the column exposed. Brigid and these recruits remain under my protection, and the march cannot scatter for one shadow.
Rogers studies the track, then the hedges and the halted files. He points two recruits toward the baggage while keeping Brigid behind the armed line, preserving order without surrendering the trail.
Captain Robert Rogers
Phillips, take Otsí:io and William as far as the first cover. Find what you can, then return. We move when you signal.
✓ Quest Accepted
Determine whether the fresh trail belongs to a watcher
“William puts His Ulster Waistcoat and Green coat back on and joins Lieutenant Philips and the boy. speaking to Philips "Who do you think it is Sir French, highwaymen?".”
SUCCESS (Good Perception, rolled -1)
William pulls his tartan Ulster waistcoat and green coat into place, then takes up the British carbine. The greased leather lock cover stays sealed, its blackened barrel and brass fittings dull beneath the hedges.
He joins William Hendrick Phillips and the young Mohawk warrior at the track, keeping the .65-caliber buck-and-ball load ready. The split shagbark hickory ramrod sits firm, while the removed bayonet stud and sling swivels leave the short weapon handy.
William Rogers
Who do you think it is, sir? French, or highwaymen?
Phillips leads them along the cart track while William reads the route: the heel turns toward the forest, the broken twig bends inward, and the cloth snag faces the column’s back trail.
William Hendrick Phillips
Not highwaymen. A robber watches the road and seeks a wagon. This man followed our march, kept to cover, and knows enough to avoid leaving a full print. I think he is a French scout, or an Indian serving the French.
Otsí:io touches the torn cloth, then points to a faint second mark beyond the thorn. The sign confirms one pursuer moving lightly, armed and cautious, with no wagon or raiding party behind him.
the young Mohawk warrior
One man. He follows to learn our strength, not to rob the road. We can find where he waits.
William Hendrick Phillips
We have our answer. He is a French-aligned scout watching the column. We will take his trail to the first cover and return before the march moves.
William, Phillips, and the young Mohawk warrior slip toward the first cover, leaving the halted files behind. The carbine’s enlarged touchhole remains clear, its flush studs and subdued metal giving no bright flash as they advance.
Quest Complete
Determine whether the fresh trail belongs to a watcher
“lets encircle and corner this rat, the Captain will want to have a word with him.”
SUCCESS (Superb Stealth, rolled -1)
“lets encircle and corner this rat, the Captain will want to have a word with him.”
SUCCESS (Superb Stealth, rolled -1)
William reads the cart track’s bends and cover, then signals Phillips wide left and Otsí:io wide right. His trained hunting footwork keeps the encirclement silent while the short carbine stays close.
He lowers behind a fallen trunk, using the blackened barrel, subdued brass, flush studs, and removed sling swivels to avoid a glint or snag. The greased lock cover stays sealed, the enlarged touchhole clear, and buck and ball remain ready beneath the seated split-hickory ramrod.
The trail’s inward turn reveals a young adult man crouched in a gray wool coat, lean-faced and dark-haired, with a narrow scar through his left eyebrow and mud-stained brown breeches, one hand resting near a hunting knife. Phillips and Otsí:io close the rear while William blocks the forest side.
William Rogers
Hold there. You are surrounded. Lay down your knife and come out where we can see you.
the French-aligned scout
Do not fire. I lay it down. Take me to your captain, and I will speak.
He places the knife on the mud and rises with empty hands. Phillips secures the weapon, while Otsí:io watches the trees; William’s quiet maneuver has cornered the scout intact, ready for Captain Rogers’s questioning.
“lets encircle and corner this rat, the Captain will want to have a word with him.”
SUCCESS (Superb Stealth, rolled +1)
Phillips binds the French-aligned scout’s wrists with a leather thong and retrieves the knife. Otsí:io searches the surrounding brush, finding no second trail or hidden companion.
the French-aligned scout
I have surrendered. I will walk quietly, but I ask for fair treatment before your captain.
The three return along the cart track. William keeps the carbine close, its blackened barrel and subdued brass avoiding the afternoon light, while the covered lock and clear touchhole protect its readiness.
William reads the inward bends and broken cover, guiding the party back by the route that conceals their approach. The seated split-hickory ramrod, flush fittings, and removed swivels make the short weapon easy to carry.
Captain Robert Rogers
Bring him here. Phillips, keep that knife. William, tell me exactly where you found him and what sign he left.
The halted column watches as the scout is brought before Rogers, hands bound and knife secured. The captain studies his mud-stained coat, then turns toward the fresh trail for the promised account.
“"You steal those clothes hmm, how long have you been trailing us huh spit it out bastard?"”
SUCCESS (Legendary Willpower, rolled -1)
William Rogers
You steal those clothes, hmm? How long have you been trailing us, huh? Spit it out, bastard.
William steps close without touching him, the British carbine held across his body. His father’s martial training fixes his stance, while the blackened barrel, subdued brass, flush studs, and removed swivels offer no glint or snag.
The greased leather lock cover keeps the action dry, the enlarged touchhole remains clear, and buck and ball stay ready beneath the seated split shagbark hickory ramrod. William’s level aim and hard silence press the question home.
the French-aligned scout
Three hours, perhaps four. I picked you up beyond the last farm, before the ridge. I wore these clothes to pass near the road and watched your strength from the hedges.
The scout swallows and keeps his bound hands raised. Behind him, the halted Scottish recruits remain in closed ranks, firelocks ready, while Captain Rogers watches the admission settle over the column.
Captain Robert Rogers
Well done, William. You got the truth without wasting a shot. Phillips, keep him secured. I want every detail of what he saw before we march.
“"Thank you Sir" lets get outta here.”
SUCCESS (Great Agility, rolled -2)