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Post by terg on Jan 18, 2010 14:20:26 GMT -5
The chaos of good and evil colliding was settling down but was not totally gone. In the cellars of Redwall Abbey, sticky goo still coated the floor and barrels where still strewn across the goo though most had ceased plowing smaller animals down. Vermin though where still disabling and disarming Redwallers efficiently, though they fought back feebly.
Ixsten, a ferret officer in the mighty horde of the Glassmaker watched as those under his command began to overwhelm the Redwallers. The entrance to the tunnel that had let so many Redwallers escaped had been blocked by several Redwallers determined to keep the vermin away from their escaping friends. A keg of October ale had been slammed into the small collapsing entrance effectively sealing it. Ixsten sighed in frustration. "You five, try and get the tunnel open again and take a few others to go retrieve the escaped prisoners!" Though he was small he wielded a good amount of power in the horde therefore earning him respect. He stepped down from the top of the steps where he had been watching the show. He moved quickly among the captured Redwallers, ensuring they where all being bound tightly. Now only two hedgehogs stood defending themselves in a corner. They would soon be brought down by the sheer number of vermin they stood against.
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Bryric, the old silversmith squirrel, lay on his side, his right temple matted with blood. He had tried to drive back the vermin and protect the entrance to the tunnel and had received a mighty hit on the head for his efforts. His vision and consciousness was slowly coming back in short painful bursts. He groaned and immedently heard a distant sounding cry. Suddenly rough paws where hauling him up and yanking rope around his paws, with no regard for his condition. His head lolled forward and he fell back into blackness.
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Post by Tirael on Jan 18, 2010 18:34:21 GMT -5
LACHIE!
The sudden thought jolted Tirael into consciousness. Lachie! Where was Lachie!? His head was swimming, and with all the chaos around, he couldn't focus enough to remember or even search for the other otter. Blinking, he squinted and looked around, but the only thing that registered was dimness and blurs, nothing that made any sense--this wasn't going to work, he was going to have to remember...
That task was put off, however, as something grabbed him. Operating on base instincts, he whirled in the direction and sunk his teeth into a rather foul-tasting upper arm, which apparently belonged to a now-screeching rat, whose cries of "Get 'im off!" were only slowly forming into comprehensible language in the healer's mind. The pain the screaming caused his still-aching head was more of a concern, however, and realizing that his biting was causing it, he opened his mouth, hoping to end the discomfort. Apparently, the gesture wasn't appreciated, as he felt his paws and snout being bound securely. As if he would be doing anymore biting; it just wasn't worth it.
After a few moments of lying there, Tirael finally started pulling his thoughts back together. He'd been standing with Lachie, when somebeast had pulled the seer away, then there'd been a big burst of confusion, and then something had hit him on the top of the head. It had either been a falling barrel or an enemy; secretly, he hoped for the latter, because being defeated by a barrel was, frankly, pathetic, even for him. But what had happened to Lachie?...
Unable to call out his friend's name, the otter had to settle for propping himself up and glancing anxiously around the room. He didn't find Lachie, but he did find Bryric next to him. He's hurt... the healer thought sadly, and began nudging the old squirrel with his elbow. He might not be able to treat him yet, but he could at least wake him up; he wouldn't be so defenseless, then...
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Post by terg on Jan 22, 2010 17:19:36 GMT -5
Bryric stifled another groan and blinked grit from his eyes. Something was poking him and he rolled away from it, annoyed that it had hurt his head. But no he had hurt his head before... Then his vision came into the focus and he saw Tirael, the young healer."Tirae... Uh. Where's Lachie?" He suddenly remembered the young wheel chair bound otter who would be in even more danger than he was. The squirrel levered himself into a sitting position, and stifled another groan as all the blood rushed down from his head. He experienced a moment of dizziness before he regained his bearings and took stock of the situation, which was anything but hopeful.
Bryric glared at a vermin rat as it moved past. He felt like spitting but kept himself under control knowing it would most likely result in another beating over the head.
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Post by Tirael on Jan 23, 2010 14:42:41 GMT -5
Tirael stopped prodding as Bryric began stirring. Finally...he'd almost been afraid the old squirrel wouldn't wake up at all. Moving back to give Bryric some room, he propped himself up against the wall and tested the ropes around his wrists and muzzle. They were pretty tight; his paws were beginning to feel numb.
"Tirae... Uh. Where's Lachie?"
The otter just shrugged, desperately wishing he knew the answer to that question. He looked around again, but it was still rather dim, and the vermin circling the room kept blocking his view of things. There was still a section of the room he hadn't searched, but as he tried to get on his knees and move to a spot where he could see it, he was shoved back by one of the hordebeasts--the one he'd bitten. Uh-oh...
"Yew sitdown, and don' even think 'bout gettin' up!" the rat snarled, cuffing Tirael on the head as he said 'think.' So glad he doesn't hold a grudge... the otter thought with a tinge of regret. Why'd he have to go around biting random strangers? Oh well, it was in the past, and for now he needed to know what had happened while he'd been unconscious. Turning back to Bryric, he tried to gesture for him to tell, but with moving his head around being the only way for him to communicate, he could have been asking anything, really...
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Post by Skipper on Jan 23, 2010 20:05:30 GMT -5
((Here goes.))
The general shook his head. It just couldn't be possible. There was no way on earth this idiot knew what he was talking about. The rat, a sort of general, kicked the chair, nearly toppling it over completely. Had the beast sitting in it not been prepared for such an action, he would have fallen out onto the floor.
It was an otter, a young one. Both paws had been restrained to the arms of his chair, and his eyes had been covered with the cloth that had initially been used to gag him. He found this particularly uncomfortable, but now wasn't the time to complain.
"Wut else d'yew know?" demanded the rat.
The otter sighed. Despite the restraints, his paws shook violently as his breathing became suddenly ragged. He stopped. Gasping for breath, he spoke with a quavering voice. "Y--your nem h'is. . . it's Kegret. . ."
The rat placed a paw to his chest, taken aback that this creature could know something like that. No one even called him by that name anymore. But the otter was not finished.
"That ferret standin'. . . behin' me. . . h'Aye, that one," -- How did he know I was looking at one particularly? thought the rat (albeit in much less sophisticated verbiage) -- " 'E wants. . . t'kill you specifi. . .c'lly. . . See, y'killed 'is brotherinna duel, whe--"
He was interrupted by a fist to his face. "Shurrup yew liddle. . ." The ferret got in only a few more punches before he was pulled away from the otterlad.
Kegret now stood over the ferret, cutlass in paw. "Dis is true?" growled the rat.
Lachlan couldn't see what happened next, but it certainly didn't sound pleasant. He was more focused on the blood running from his nose anyway. This is what he got for answering a question. . . He couldn't hear the ferret anymore. . .
Then, an idea struck him.
" 'Ey, Kegget," he called the angry rat, trying to speak in a dialect that vermin would understand, "There're prob'bly more murderin' types like 'at aroun'. I'd be willin' t'help, but I can't do much widdout my friend." Lachie didn't hear an objection. Good, he had his attention. " 'E's a healer, and without 'im, my legs 'urt me too much fur me t'work effectively. . ."
The rat seemed to ponder this for a while, then turned around and barked at one of the nearer hordesbeasts. "Yew! Go fine dis healer off 'is, an' don't mek me sent somebeast aftur yew! Go!"
Lachie heard the scurrying of footpaws. He waited until the noise died down before speaking again.
"It would also help if you could take this blindfold off--"
"Don't push it."
((Lachie's in the Great Hall, being interrogated.))
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Post by terg on Jan 27, 2010 16:20:31 GMT -5
Bryric tried to reach up and rub his head, a natural reaction to a splitting headache, but obviously his paws where pound tightly. He turned to Tirael to find the young healer's muzzle bound. "What did you do to get such special treatment? Nevermind." He let his gaze drift around the other bound prisoners before looking back to Tirael who was obviously trying to tell him something. "Wha'? I guess this could be difficult..." He watched the otter intently trying to figure out the message that could only be relayed through head movements. Unable to interpret he began making random guesses. "Um... Lessee. Barr got out if that's what you wondering... so did that scummy rat. Uh...Lachie didn't get out I don't think. What else...? Oh yeah, the vermin got into the abbey," he finished sarcastically and groaned quietly in anger.
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Post by Tirael on Jan 30, 2010 1:47:31 GMT -5
"What did you do to get such special treatment? Nevermind."
Tirael couldn't tell whether that was sarcasm or not, but either way, he didn't want to talk about it. Odd that things would work out that way for him. Of course, if he hadn't bitten the rat, he wouldn't have been muzzled, and he wouldn't have to not want to talk about it...never mind, this wasn't going anywhere.
"Um... Lessee. Barr got out if that's what you wondering...
That really wasn't what he was thinking, but either way, it was a good thing. Tirael trusted Barr: he was a level-headed otter, and there weren't many the healer would have trusted to get help as him. With any luck on Barr's part, they would all be free in no time.
...so did that scummy rat.
The one who'd held him hostage? Where was the fairness in that? All those peaceful abbeydwellers who could've escaped, and instead, the jerk who'd pressed a knife against his throat got out safely...that just wasn't right. Despite his generally peaceful nature, he found himself wishing that Weghul would be tied up right next to him...
Uh...Lachie didn't get out I don't think. What else...? Oh yeah, the vermin got into the abbey."
Oh...Lachie hadn't escaped, either. That was exactly what he had been fearing; he didn't want to see the sea otter picked on because his legs made him an easy target. He rolled his eyes a bit at the mention of the vermin getting in, though. Now wasn't the time to be so sarcastic, at least in his opinion. He wasn't quite so cynical as Bryric: he still firmly believed that they wouldn't be in this situation for long.
"'ey!" Most of the captives in the room turned to look at the ferret who'd raised his voice. "Who's the healer in 'ere?"
Tirael glanced uneasily at Bryric before working himself up to a standing position. The ferret just grabbed his arm and pulled him up toward the Great Hall...
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Post by terg on Feb 3, 2010 16:14:11 GMT -5
Bryric realized what tirael was doing to lat. Obviously it would be suicide to draw attention to himself once again yet here he was standing in acknowledgement of the vermins question. Bryric watched in dismay as they hustled the young otter up the stairs roughly, convinced his friend was in trouble. Things where just going from bad to worse. Bryric hated being in a opstion with no control and his stiff gaze bored into the vermin who where pacing between the lines of slaves. Surely things could only get better from here on?
Bryric began inching his way into a dark corner where several large barrels stood. Perhaps he could disappear without anyone noticing. He froze as a vermin cast a glance his way and despretly hopes he hadn't been noticed.
OOC: Bad posts on my part...
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Post by Skipper on Feb 10, 2010 18:03:26 GMT -5
Lachlan shifted nervously in his chair. The silence was uncomfortable, and he knew that the rat's paws were gripping the handles on the back of his chair. The sea otter half expected to be pushed across the room suddenly, where he'd be greeted by more vermin, ready to interrogate him further. Lachlan frowned. He hated interrogations. Nobeast ever asked the questions nicely. Politely, perhaps, but there was always a hint of irritation in their voices. Sometimes, Lachlan wished that he wasn't a seer. Of course, this was no such time. Without his skills, he was just a cripple. Lachie shuddered at what vermin like these would do with those who were of no use to them.
Footsteps sounded from behind.
Lachlan craned his head around as best he could. "Tirael! 'Ow's it goin'? Ye all right? . . ." No reply. The sea otter turned to where he thought the rat-captain was. "'Scuse me, but is mah friend gagged? Ye know this ' a two-beast job, so i' can't be done properly if I can't consult wi' him. . ." He waited, hoping they'd heed his request.
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Post by Tirael on Feb 10, 2010 23:35:38 GMT -5
Stumbling as the ferret half-led, half-dragged him up the steps, Tirael did his best not to fall, which would almost certainly lead to some sort of unpleasant punishment. Fortunately, they emerged in Great Hall fully upright, and he began to take stock of the situation. There were fewer creatures up here, or at least it seemed so from the less crowded appearance. A glance at the windows told him it was around dawn; the colors of the stained-glass were glowing faintly with the rising sun's light. It was too bad that the beauty of it was lost on Redwall's new owners.
"Tirael! 'Ow's it goin'? Ye all right? . . ."
Hearing his name called, the healer shifted his gaze over to--Lachie!! Though the fact that the seer was just as much a captive as he was took away from the relief a bit, but at least he was alive and as noisy as ever. Of course, Tirael couldn't reciprocate, and Lachie couldn't see him...
"'Scuse me, but is mah friend gagged? Ye know this ' a two-beast job, so i' can't be done properly if I can't consult wi' him. . ."
Job? What job? Tirael thought as he met the rat's gaze. I hope he's got a good plan... It must have been, because at his captain's nod, the ferret slit the cord around Tirael's muzzle and pulled the remaining strands off. He kept a firm grip on the otter's arm, though, as if letting him talk was as good as untying his paws. After testing his jaws for a moment, Tirael looked up uncertainly. "Lachie? I'm...alright...but what d'you need?"
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