Having Fun

[Skipper]

The ferret stared coldly at the otter standing at the opposite end of the table. No, the otter couldn't have figured it out. But those eyes... Those two, brown eyes staring back at him seemed to penetrate everything, as though they could see everything he was thinking. An almost unnoticeable drop of sweat trickled down his forehead. The otter noticed.

"He's lying," said the otter simply.

The world seemed to spin slightly as the ferret realized that he had been caught. He felt the tip of a sword press against his back.

"All right, show me where it is, mate." A gruff voice sounded from behind. The word "mate" was spoken in a less than friendly tone.

"I don't know wot yer talking about," pleaded the ferret, "I didden steal anything!"

"Don't try my paishunce!" growled the voice, "Where'd ye hide 'em, yore liddle boat?"

The ferret knew there was no way out of the situation, and finally conceded. "Aye. Aye, I'll go an' bring 'em back." He turned to make his way to the door, catching another glimpse of the owner of the deep voice. The sea otter stood a good head taller than the ferret, and certainly wasn't a beast to be underestimated. This gave the ferret all the more reason to speed his progress toward the door, but he soon realized that he wasn't going alone. Clearly, this otter wasn't letting him leave until he had his stolen possessions back.

"Uh - He's lying again, by the bye," remarked the first otter.

The ferret rotated turned until his eyes came to rest on the young ottermaid still seated at the opposite end of the table. Her eyes shone with mirth as she continued. "They're not on 'is ship. 'E's 'idden 'em be'ind some rocks. Lachie knows where to find 'em." Another young otter of the same age half raised a paw to indicate his presence as he leaned against a side door.

The large, sword-wielding otter beckoned the one apparently named Lachie to come along as he prodded the ferret forward. As the poor thief was forced out the door, the ottermaid threw in one final remark.

"Have fun."

---

"Come now, 'twasn't that bad."

"Ye were racing up an' down an' around the abbey walls inna wheel-chair."

The two sea otters argued back and forth as they made their way across the abbey grounds. The younger debated with a tone of mock seriousness as the older berated the former for the previous incident. Lachie had been racing around the walls with his wheel-chair, and on his descent, he collided with one of the older residents of the abbey.

"Well, I didn' 'urt anybeast..."

"Ye ran o'er old Brother Dinng!"

"'Bumped,' I bumped into 'im. It was hardly a collision, an' besides, nothing would 'ave 'appened if 'e 'ad just seen me coming."

"'E's seventy-four seasons old, Lachie.'

"He could 'ave run just a liddle faster, though," murmured the young otter.

Barr shook his head for a moment, marveling at Lachie's refusal to concede. He stopped suddenly to look up at the one who had just approached.

---

((Next post reserved for Rocky.

I apologize if this post is a little more laid back than usual, and that the ending was rather sudden. I thought that I'd introduce my characters with a normal conversation -- well, as normal as my conversations can get . The serious posts can come after the invasion.))

[Rocky]

OOC: Im not necessarily good at introduction posts, so this may not be my best, but I'll try.

BIC:

Why Arel was in Redwall, away from fighting and ridding the worldof vermin, he may never know. However, all he knew was that somethng was stirring. Something dark, and the sea otter knew that he wouldn't last long on his own if it was something really bad. Perhaps that was the reason he came to Redwall, seeing as how it's the closest thing to a fortress, other then Salamandastron, which was too far for him to travel, and would most likely prove very dangerous.

Because of his instincts, Arel self-proclaimed himself a wall guard, feeling it was his job to make sure everything was at bay.

The sea otter had been walking the ramparts, all around the abbey, with his axe held loosely at his side in a very relaxed grip. Sweat trickled from his forehead from the assault of the sun and there was nothing to protect him except the indoors, and he didn't want to go indoors, thinking something may happen in his absent.

He was making yet another travel around the ramparts, that, with every step, seemed to be growing longer to Arel, when he noticed Barr and what he presumed to be his son walking across the grounds. Barr seemed to be berating his son, but Arel was too far to actually see what they were talking about, so he couldn't tell. His curiosity was piqued and he gave one last though of "What could happen?", took another gaze across the trees, then headed for the stairs.

Arel put his axe back in his belt, and when he made it to the 5th stepto the bottom, he bent down, put his arm on the step next to him, then dropped over the edge onto the grass. He started walking for the two otters just when they turned a corner out of his sight. He wiped sweat from his brow that seemd to come from his fur, like rain from a cloud, then picked up his pace to a jog and cleared the part of the lawn he was on in 15 or so strides, then rounded the corner and saw the back of the two he was following.

He smiled inwardly and slowed his pace to a fast walk, well... faster then theirs, he thought, and soon caught up with them.

Arel quickly changed to a jog and came up next to the warrior, and patted him on the back,

"Champion Barr, and his son. How do ye' do?"

[Skipper]

((Not to be picky or anything, but Barr isn't Champion quite yet -- he's only been at Redwall for a month or so. All things considered, I figure he'll be Champion toward the end of the plot.))

---

"Barr, and his son. How do ye' do?"

Barr put on his best smile, which wasn't much when used politely rather than genuinely. "It is well, Arel," he replied. Lachie always thought this particular phrase of his father's was rather odd, as most would answer differently, and Lachie knew otters from Ruddaring, where his father was raised; nobeast there spoke like this, as far as he knew. Of course, he considered it just another peculiarity -- everybeast had a few of those.

Barr continued, "Aye, we were just --"

"Pushing down old people," interrupted Lachie in a matter-of-fact tone.

Barr turned and stared inquisitively at Lachie with a look of bewilderment. Silence ensued for a moment.

Disregarding the strange young otter, Barr spoke again, "Right -- well, we were just walkin' o'er to the Infirmary to see if Tirael can figur' out why Lachlan can't walk."

"What? We a--"

It was Barr's turn to interrupt, "So 'ow are ye faring today?"

"Better than Brother Dinng," remarked Lachie under his breath.

[Rocky]

OOC: Bah! K, Ill change it.

"Pushin' down old 'uns, eh?" Arel said, a laugh passing his lips. He then caught Barr's look to Lachie and immediately kept quiet. "Erm... Sorry..." He mumbled between a cough. He cleared his throat then said in his sternest voice, though he couldn't stop the quite chuckle still passing, "You must be careful, master Lachlan." He hoped that that was Barr's son's name, and breathed an inward sigh of relief as Barr said the lines: "out why Lachlan can't walk."

That brought back memories of his old times when he was just a lad, and though he never met anyone in a wheelchair, he remembered the times when others would scare others and they would jump at least a foot in the air.

"Well... I think--" Arel started, "-- that if you get scared enough, Lachlan, then maybe your handicapp-ness will leave you, because you'll be startled as to jump out of your chair." He'd hoped they wouldn't take his words as a joke, for they may prove possible one day for anybeast.

So 'ow are ye faring today?

"Alright." Arel sighed, not really feeling up to explaining his self proclaimed duty. "Though I've been assaulted by the sun, many times today." He chuckled.

He moved his head in a circle as he cracked his neck, and something reminded him that he had to get done as his ear brushed the hilt of his blade, Anglachel. "Hey, Barr, are there blacksmith's in this 'ere area?" He wanted to sharpen up Anglachel, for, although it was still sharp enough to inflict pain and wounds, he felt it needed to be sharper. "My blade needs sharpening." He added, just for the heck of it.

He palmed the hilt of Anglachel, and another thought passed in his mind of how the blade stayed blck all these years. He simply sighed and awaited Barr's answer.

[Skipper]

((Sorry, I should have been clearer about it.))

Barr put a paw to the back of his head as he probed his memory, trying to recall seeing any local blacksmiths. After a short moment, which rather felt like several to Barr, he answered. "No, I don't recall any smiths in the area..."

"Anglachel? That's an odd name fur a weapon," said Lachie suddenly, "though I suppose yore grandfather had all the right in the world to name it after hisself." This time, Barr was truly curious, though not surprised, as he stared questioningly at Lachie. The young otter had claimed to be a seer, which, knowing the lad, would cause doubt in anybeast, but at the same time, the young one knew things that he couldn't know otherwise, as far as anybeast could reason. He continued.

"These are my weapons." Lachie produced two ladles seemingly out of the air. "Their names are Susan, and Susan. I named them after each other." Barr shook his head in amazement. It was as though Lachie had prepared for the entire conversation beforepaw. "I was going to have them sharpened," he continued yet again, "but then I couldn't eat my soup..." The mockingly serious expression on his face was enough to make almost anybeast with a sense of humour laugh. Barr was no such beast.

"I'm sorry," apologized Barr, "Don't mind 'im. 'E doesn't know when to keep 'is mouth shut..." He paused for a moment, only to continue, referring back to Arel's original question. "But, erm, no, there isn't any smith I ken 'round 'ere. Mayhap some abbeybeast can 'elp ye." Honestly, Barr doubted the latter statement. Abbeydwellers were peaceful creatures, and rarely allowed anything larger than a kitchen knife within the grounds, and these seasons, vermin were scarce, making virtually infinitesimal the demand for weapons, and moreover the need for blacksmiths.

[Rocky]

((No need to be sorry, lol. I was j/k with the 'Bah!' lol. Ill post later when i can))