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Post by Wolf Fenrir Helix on Nov 25, 2008 10:45:07 GMT -5
"Alright you babe-stealin' old-un killin' scum o' the lands!"
That was Isold's voice cutting out across her horde... The white ferret walked amongst the ranks, her weapons present and her bodyguard of beasts from all the lands she had visited in step behind her. Stopping in front of the two hundred score-strong horde, she grinned slightly manically.
"Today is it! Today we march! We march for the greatest jewel in the crown of any warlord or warlady... We march on the "sacred" Abbey of Redwall!"
Amidst cheers from those of the north, the deserts and the eastern lands beyond the sands, there were the odd groan from those who had lived in Mossflower and the other near-by woods... They knew Redwall had never fallen in it's entire history... But history had never met Isold Gabriele Wilda... She had already picked a time when it was turmoutuous; Salamandastron was fighting against it's own horde of foes, and so was unable to help out. That gave her numerically superior horde of experienced and hardened vermin a great edge; No hares and annoying badger lord to attack from behind.
"We move in battle groups. Your captains have already assigned you your groups, so stick to them. You will eat, sleep, march, fight, and perhaps even die with your group-mates! Work with each other, rather than against each other, and the Abbey will be a push-over! We will dine like royalty and be written in legend; The only horde to conquer the unconquerable Redwall Abby! Who will follow your Warlady in this grand undertaking?!?"
Not even the most hardened nay-sayer in the six thousand foxes, rats, ferrets, stoats, weasels, wolves, or even occasional wererat coudl find cause to disagree with her... Isold had easily won them over with her words... That, and her threats of death if they didn't follow her still hung over their heads.
Turning on her heel, the Ferret set her grey eyes, both the bandaged left and uncovered right, on the road ahead. As she walked down the path south-west away from the deserts, towards the abbey, her grin widened as she knew her horde would be right behind her...
~~~
OOC: And so... It begins... The begining of the darkest hour yet for Redwall, and the begining of the end perhaps?
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Post by dirgecallers on Dec 2, 2008 18:31:26 GMT -5
'Follow the sounds of thunder. Keep the beast surrounded and held fast as you go." Those had been the commands of Lentle Dirge. The gang of Lentle had been transported as fast as it could go with such as savage captive in tow. The former captives had been ignored, no longer needed now that they had this...beast.
They ran through the woods until the wood gave way to open land. As they departed the cover of the trees, Lentle could see that there was a path winding southwest in direction. Lentle ordered his gang "Stay in the trees, dont let you lanterns be seen by any beast lest we be discovered". Clenching his quarterstaff, Lentle Inspected the path. It had been recently trod upon by many beasts beyond number-moving in unison. So many footpaws in fact, that Lentle was unable to determine the species of the beasts that had passed.
He trod further along the path, ordering his crew to stay in the trees out of sight, but still follow him. Clearly this was an army of prodigous size he dealt with, one that it was better to approach alone.
He presently reached a bend in the path when he heard a great clamour, like ten thousand beasts conversing at once. He knew than that beyond this corner the army took its leisure. He creeped into the cover of the trees to observe for himself what manner of army this was.
He beheld a gathering of thousands of vermin, camped alongside the path, and stetching out as far as the eye could see. Compared to his group of a score and a half (the five vermin from the foxes band had joined his) this was the cumalitive gathering of all vermin on earth. He took some leisure first to determine what manner this army compsed of. Every vermin species, save Wolverine, Marten or his own, lay there along the path. The leaser of this group clearly had traveled the world. (But not to Lentle's Reckoning his own homeland..The Land of Snow and Ice)
Lentle than made a bold resolution. He would join this army and thus add his group to theirs. He was sure that they would be welcome, as it was an another addition the warlord wouldnt have to expend words in threatening to join.
Lentle stepped out of the trees and walked back to the path. Continuing along the path, he came to the first sentries,(a pair of foxes). Seeing them raise their axes at his arrival, he bowed down, lowering his quarterstaff to the ground. He then made supplication that he came into the camp merely to offer his services to this leader free of any extortion whatsoever. If he could see this leader, who was clearly the most powerful force in all of the earth, he would humbly ask them to accept his services and any he might find to hire for him. (Lentle grew up in a barracks of a warlord, so He knows how to grovel when he needs too.)
(done)
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Post by Wolf Fenrir Helix on Dec 8, 2008 14:21:22 GMT -5
With the two foxes walking either side of him, Lentle was led to Isolde's personal area of the camp. Leaning back against the tree, the white ferret took in the newcomer with a single glance.
"My soldiers tell me you wish to join my horde... Is this true?"
Without waiting for an answer, she stood up and walked around the beast, a half smile on her lips.
"To run with a horde comprised of beasts form all over this land... The north lands, the deserts, the lands beyond the deserts and the local forests, you need to be fit and able... Tell me, do you think you fit that description?"
Again, she didn't wait for an answer... Instead, she dropped one of the knives hidden up her sleeves into her paw and held it against the ermine's nose none-too-gently.
"Answer me these questions; Is it just you who is offering to join, or do you have a force of your own? What is going to be the cost to my own horde to let you join? And finally... Will you follow me to hell's gates and back if I did so order you to, or will I slay you now and be done with ye?"
This time, she gave him pause to answer her questions. With her free paw, she pushed some of her fringe away from her left eye, exposing the thin, translucent bandages covering over her "blind" eye.
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Post by dirgecallers on Dec 9, 2008 18:21:59 GMT -5
As Lentle had been led through the body of the horde, he observed that his initial assessment had been correct. Thousands upon thousands and yet none of his kind among their number. That This horde could conquer any place it chose to go was now firmly his opinion.
He was led before the a white ferret, who semed to be the horde leader. She approached him and asked questions of him, not gving him opportunity to speak.Finally, she pressed the tip of a knife to his nose, threatening to cause harm if he did not give favorable answers.
Lentle cleared his throat before he gave answer."My name is Lentle Dirge, and I wish to join this great horde. I have served in many hordes in seasons past and I am thus used to following orders. I am yet a youngbeast, in the prime seasons of life. My weapon is a quarterstaff( he nodded in the direction of the fox gaurd who was holding Lentle's quarterstaff) and I have been classically trained in its use by one who was skifful in that art. I see that your horde is comprimised of beasts from all across the known lands, there is a selection from every known land save the place of my birth. I hail from the lands of Ice and Snow beyond the great seas where there is eternal winter." He paused for breath and continued. "I am currently in command of a band of about 15 assorted vermin. They would willingly join your band whether I postulated such or no. There would be no cost to the joining of our two groups, only a valuble addition to your force. Before we saw your army, we managed to detain and capture a savage creature known only to the realms of legend. With such a creature, at their disposal, the beast controlling it would be at a great advantage in combat".
"So it is that I conclude my address such, That my band and I wish to join yours. That we only wish to add to the might of your armies, not detract anything from it. That we might in time, prove asset to your most august person." With that, Lentle fiinished his speech.
(done)
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Post by Wolf Fenrir Helix on Dec 10, 2008 17:53:44 GMT -5
Inside, Isold was smiling... However, her smile never reached her lips. This beast was an orator of now small skill... If he were to win the horde's ears, she might have a struggle to retain control of it...
"You talk fancily... That's rare amongst low-lifes and scum of the earth..."
Returning the blade to it's scabbard inside her sleeve, she let the barest hint of a smile grace her face.
"I always did like a beast that can talk well... Must be why I followed Purplestreak nine summers ago until she died seven winters ago... That and the "Join me or die" threat..."
Spitting on her paw, she held it out to the Ermine for him to shake.
"Name's Wilde. Isolde Gabriele Wilde... Some call me Irma though."
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Post by dirgecallers on Dec 12, 2008 21:10:28 GMT -5
Lentle stuck out his hand to shake the ferret's. He had been taught that no matter how rude a beast might be, it was always wise to get on their good sides if they were stronger than you. He noticed the forgein weapons in her belt and made a mental note of it. Here was a beast who had traveled the land, going into the far off countries he had only read about.
He decided it was time to speak. "Wilde, long live your reign, and mighty may be your conquests over all of your foes! I now beg leave to present my meagre forces to your disposal!"
Saying thus in a loud enough voice for his gang to hear, he waited for them to depart from tree cover.
From his vantage in the Horde, Lentle could see his gang being led out of tree cover and being promptly surrounded by the Horde. (A coverlet was placed upon Vajjan because the scorpion got too agitated to control in daylight.) Following the directions of the Horde captains, Lentle's gang lay down their arms, but the ones restraining Vajjan held onto their torches despite commands to drop them as well.
Lentle, seeing this state of affairs called out "Let them stay, the only thing restraining the beast is its fear of fire. Daylight and fire bring fear into this beast, ravenous though it may be." Turning to Isolde, He gave a bow, "My lady, here I humbly present my forces to you. The great beast is also there at your disposal."With this statement, the coverlet was taken down from Vajjan.
(done)
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00c: Im guessing it is nighttime or nearly so. No one said what time of day Lentle met the Horde, But im going to assume it was on the same night He captured Vajjan.
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Post by Wolf Fenrir Helix on Dec 15, 2008 9:46:41 GMT -5
OOC: Dirge, Wilde is her last name. She introduced herself last name first.
~~~
"Go... I'll be waiting your return..."
Knowing what the ermine was aiming to achieve with his words, the ferret made it seem like she would wait on him in the case... Of course, that wasn't her intention at all... As much as she liked to seem agreeable to her hordebeasts and others, she was far more cunning and commanded total respect... Not to mention she had that mean streak to her...
She wasn't kept waiting long, as Lentle returned with the covered scorpion. keeping her puzzlement hidden, her surprise did show through when the covering was taken off.
"Scorpion!"
She took an involuntary step back as memories of the large poisonous beasts entered her mind from her time in the deserts.
"How... How did you manage to take one alive?"
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Post by dirgecallers on Dec 17, 2008 22:48:17 GMT -5
Lentle watched the ferrets face express obvious suprise at the unvieling of the scorpion. "But how did you manage to take one alive?" He heard her gasp. Clearly, she had seen these monsters before. It came as no suprise to Lentle, since the ancient legends had told of them inhabiting the hot deserts as well as the cool jungles of the south.
"Lady Wilde, I led my former ensemble to surround this beast as it was taking a rare rest. We discovered its weakness, fire, and surrounded it with torches until we bound it. It cost many lives, but finally the creature was subdued" Lentle continued,"Now that I have explained to you the particulars of I disagreeay, I beg leave to take my leisure."
Lentle knew better than to fully explain his involvment in the capture of the beast. In his logic, no matter what the situation, favorable or no, it was wise to always have a ace in the hole. If it was so needed, He could curry the favor of his new master by using his secrets in a time of advantage. The enemy would never know that the beast they were fighting had the feared rage of the Dirge. That did not mean of course, that he would let mere emotions cloud his judgement.
(done)
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OOc: Lentle called her by her last name bc that is a sign of respect. Where he comes from, calling a beast in authority by his/her first name is deemed highly disrespectful.
Also, after this post,I leave it open for a new day to begin. This frees up room for the new people to come in and start rping.
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Post by maxodis on Dec 20, 2008 17:12:46 GMT -5
The morning of yet another Autumn day. The birth of yet another vibrant sun, radiant in it's hues, bringing temporary life once more to the decadent surface of that which it touched. For a short time, the leaves that had fallen with a sad grace from their high perch had meaning again, had a purpose. The small, sad piles of what-had-been were no longer cruel reminders of what could only be defined as "The ultimate end". They were no longer just collections of matter that had been desaturated of life. They were the representation of life born anew, vibrant once more in their own deathly hues. They had all the variation of color, size, and shape that they had prominently displayed in life.
Why?
Was death not the complete end of all things? Or was there a force more powerful than death, that could transcend it and bring the process of life full circle? Was that force, assuming it existed even, what we sorry creatures have defined 'resurrection'?
The Weasel, contemplating this, found himself lifted with the slightest feeling of hope. Were that to be true, could he then find life?
His eyes glanced once more at the sunrise, dully observing the light it projected. His eyes swept over the landscape that he could see in the small clearing, seeing the dead leaves once more as he always had, through a nearly impenetrable veil of cynicism.
"Resurrection." He snorted, characteristic scowl returning to his features. "Were it so easy."
His mind drifted to other topics. The tree that he was now propped up against was clearly dead for the winter, it's branches stark and bare, its representations of life long since cast away, dead underpaw, rotting. In this he felt kinship with the old tree, as absurd as the idea seemed to him as he thought it. The tree was an eternal late bloomer, every year it was the one that would hold onto it's fruits the longest.
Yet here he was, hungered, aggravated, and deserted by the one tree he had expected to be able to depend on. One makes curious friends in the worst of times!
He leaned forward to rise from his spot, intending to begin the long trek back to what he would( with yet another cynical snort) call his 'home'. He found himself wincing as he did though, jaws clenched at the dull pains in his back that seemed to be an increasingly persistent bother. Leaning back against the old tree (And wincing once more as his spine settled into the slight crevasse that the trunk offered) he came to the conclusion that there was no reason to not lay back and contemplate some more. After a brief time he pulled the sheathed claymore closer to his side. One could never be too careful.
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Post by lorki on Dec 20, 2008 17:14:20 GMT -5
With a low hissing noise the knife whizzed through the air. The targets were lined pieces of firewood on the opposite side of the clearing. Amongst the fallen golden leaves the gray ferret grinned as her knife struck and sunk into the wood, it had even directly hit on the knot she had aimed for. Sleetfang’s pride never seemed to lessen, even though she had made much a performance countless times before. She turned around to study the two small ferret kits behind her.
“A wide stance, Dax.” She said gripping the smaller black kit’s shoulders and positioning him correctly. “Omri, don’t slouch.” She lightly kicked the larger light furred kit in the small of his back, forcing him to jump into correct posture. She looked them over again then she drew two simple throwing knives from her belt. She gave one first to Dax and then to Omri, “do not play with these, they are not toys. Don’t touch the blade. Don’t even think to touch your brother with the blade” She warned them both, her voice low and serious.
“Can I toss it up like y’do, mama?” The larger and bolder of the two asked, trying to spin it in the palm of his paw like he had seen her do countless times.
With a quick snap Sleetfang snatched the knife away from her son. “You cannot do anything with it until I tell you to or this will be a lesson only for Dax.” She handed the knife back, and roughly closed the kit’s paw around the handle. “Alright. Now you can… mess with it a bit. Do not let go of the black part,” She showed her own paw closed tightly around the handle of her knife, “Switch the position of it, turn it, move your arm so you know where you can move without it cutting you.” She demonstrated but they seemed to be doing their own investigations of the movement.
After a few more moments Sleet called their attention to her once again, “watch me, then when I am finished you throw it, straight ahead, no where else.” She recoiled, her footpaws in excellent placement, her arm reared back, her paw twitched to angle and she threw her entire body force against the blade to send it flying off again to hit another mark. She nodded to the kits that attempted to copy her action. Both fumbled, both threw with their arms and not their body or wrist but they each got a fair distance on the throw. Dax’s knife landed blade down in the ground but Omri’s bounced and skid into a pile of leaves.
Sleet backed off; content to watch her twin’s throw and retrieve their knives over and over again. It would tire them out quickly and they seemed to be improving slightly given the time. She mumbled demands from the sidelines, carefully observing them. “Omri, don’t curl your wrist like that… hey, don’t drag on your steps, lazy… Dax, you need to arch your arm more, no, no the other way… Omri, whatever you are eating could you please not…” Eventually they wandered off slashing and cutting away at the underbrush, she followed at a distance, only keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t stab one another.
She was confident in their ability enough to look foolishly away for just half a second to adjust the large satchel slung over her shoulder. In that short moment Omri has darted ahead, he pelted the knife ahead of him and ran to chase after it. He quickly lost sight of his brother and seconds after that stumbled into a clearing, facing a weasel. Not to be intimidated Omri reached down and plucked his knife out of the ground where it had stuck, his wide eyes fixed on the creature.
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Post by maxodis on Dec 20, 2008 17:14:54 GMT -5
The distant sounds that had been persistent for the past hour had ceased to bother the Weasel. The odd shuffling noises that could only be caused by the disturbance of the leaves that littered the ground had a singular rythm to them, one so routine that it seemed to fade in with the other sounds of nature. He briefly considered their source, and decided that it was, in all likelihood, another creature searching for food, as he had. In any case, the sounds were far enough away that the chances of him being stumbled upon were slim. He had then closed his eyes, taking in the warmth that was filling his body, and lazily drifted off to sleep.
It wasn't long that he found himself disturbed again, coaxed out of his slumber by a faintly nagging sense. Half-aware of his surroundings, eyes still firmly held shut as if to seal in the sleep that was fading from him, he listened and heard the same obnoxious pattern of noises that had bothered him earlier. A slight rustle of leaves, followed shortly by a comparitively massive disturbance as something pushed aside a great many leaves. Then, abruptly, silence. Another brief pause. Rustle, rustle. The pattern would continue. He could hear the sounds significantly clearer than he had been able to before. Though the haze of his fatigue, the thought that perhaps the noises were steadily getting closer did not cause much concern. He faded back into the ethereal void of slumber.
A sharp noise brought him awake in an instant. His eyes snapped open, his mind beginning it's preliminary assesment of the potentially threatening situation. All thought paused as the Weasel realized he was staring into the sun. Squinting, he reflexively raised a paw to his eyes, seeing colors behind it's darkness.
A shuffling noise caused him to recall the reason for his abrupt awakening.
Still shading his eyes with the paw, he looked out upon the clearing stretched out before him. One could not fail to see the darkened figure silhouetted against the morning light. One could not miss the dull glint of a blade.
He was up nearly instantaneously, back pain forgotten in light of the situation. His claymore was in his paws, still sheathed, but readied. A quick revealed the figure to be unusually small, almost as if....
A mental shake to clear his thoughts. It was possible that this creature was a young one, but it did not change the fact that it was armed and potentially hostile. There were no others apparent. Distracted for a moment, he dimly realized the pattern of shuffling was still present, and appeared to be originating from some place behind the creature.
His gaze snapped back to the small figure. His brow darkened as he stared hard into it's widened eyes.
"Disarm yourself."
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Post by lorki on Dec 20, 2008 17:16:43 GMT -5
The small ferret stubbornly did not drop the blade. Instead he let his arm hand limply at his side, trying to appear unthreatening. His dark eyes were set, a stubborn and determined look he imitated from his mother. He opened his mouth to respond to the weasel but was interrupted by an angry shout from the bramble. “Omri, I swear when I get my paws on you… If you get yourself killed I will have NO remorse. Hell, I’ll throw a celebration!”
Sleet had already retrieved the knife from Omri, and –carefully keeping him at her side- darted skillfully about the brush. Some sticks caught in her fur, and on the long sleeved corsair-style smock dress she wore. The scarf tied about waist snagged on a branch and she cursed loudly. Her eye’s locked on the figure of her run-away son through the mess of hanging branches and dead leaves. She popped out of the dense forestry and grabbed him by the scruff. She hauled the small kit up, not even noticing the weasel that stood in front of her as she grabbed the knife from his paw.
“Don’t you ever-“ She stopped, her black eyes looking past her kit to Redin, holding his weapon awkwardly, just steps away. At first she was horrified that she could overlook something, someone so obviously and directly in front of her. Her horror shifted to amazement when a mental click connected this certain weasel to a name.
She dropped Omri roughly onto the ground, he landed with a soft thud and quickly scurried around to stand a few steps behind his mother, mirroring his black brothers sudden shyness. “Redin.” She said, it was not a question, but an observation in a cheery tone she looked her old friend up and down and a smile broke on her face.
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Post by maxodis on Dec 20, 2008 17:17:12 GMT -5
Redin Outmir's thought proccess was settling easily into one which had been second nature to him almost his entire life, cold, calculating, dsiturbingly calm. The polar opposite to his normal thought, it occured to him. No matter. The small figure relaxed slightly, and adopted a set look.
But did not release the knife.
Paw gripping the simple wooden handle tighter, a darkness crept upon his scowl, hovering like a massive stormcloud on the horizon. Tensing slightly, he found himself beginning to sink into a crouch before a loud outburst interrupted his thought.
“Omri, I swear when I get my paws on you… If you get yourself killed I will have NO remorse. Hell, I’ll throw a celebration!”
Redin found himself hesitant, saw the figure go stiff, determination gone. The odd shuffling noise ceased, to be replaced by a slight whisper of movement.
There was something hauntingly familiar about the outcry. Some distant, obscure, stifled memory pushed against the front of his head as he fought to remember what it was. Whatever, no, whoever it was, their voice certainly sparked a memory that wasn't exactly...pleasent.
That memory was confirmed as a new creature slipped from the dense forest behind the small figure and lifted it easily by the scruff of it's neck, scolding it. The insant connection of past to present in such clarity caused Redin Outmir's mind to completely stop in it's functioning.
She stared at him. He gaped at her.
Upon hearing his name, his mind sluggishly moved back into motion, reminding him that his mouth had better uses than catching flies. He immediately shut his mouth, and blinked several times, still disbelieving what he saw. Perhaps he was still napping in the morning sun?
Couldn't be. He didn't have dreams THIS peculiar.
Finding words again, he stared at her, incredulously. "Sleet? Could it be?"
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Post by lorki on Dec 20, 2008 17:17:54 GMT -5
She had completely forgotten about her misbehaving child, though the light furred ferret kit still seemed to be trying to regain some standing with his mother by politely standing, paws folded in front of him watching quietly. The darker kit seemed much less concerned and had begun kicking up the leaves around his footpaws.
Sleet could not help but stare back with equal amazement, after a long moment of back and fourth stares she lurched forwards and embraced him, “What, did you think I got killed without you following me around all the time?” She ruffled the fur on his head as she tilted back on her heels to admire him again.
He did look different… a bit more worn but she was simply glad to see him again. The sound of ruffling leaves reminded her that she did in fact have children. “Oh!” She whirled around and dragged the two of them forwards. She rested a paw on the black smaller kit “Redin, this is Dax. Dax, this is Redin.”
Her meaningful scowl told the kit exactly what to do he quickly stopped his kicking, took a careful step forward and held out a paw, “hello.”
Relieved that at least one of them could handle a proper greeting Sleet rounded on her second child, “And this is Omri. Who needs not introduce himself because I’m sure he’s already harassed you enough.”
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Post by maxodis on Dec 20, 2008 17:18:39 GMT -5
It's a proven fact that dreams do not give hugs. Generally.
Redin, while still astonished, found himself disbelieving his luck. In the worst of times, to find the most profound creature of his past, quite possibly the only reason he found himself alive (and hungry), not to mention sane. Their adventures came back in a flood of memories (often ending in him being kicked or injured by her in some way, but he more often than not had earned it, dense young creature he used to be), her inspiration that caused him to force himself into isolation, his struggle with sanity...
He remembered the two smaller ferrets as she turned to bring them forward. Both kits appeared to be the same age, bearing that distinct resemblance to their mother that most twins have. A slow smile came to his face, though it did not appear quite right,almost out-of-place. There was not much reason to smile these days. He took the small ferret's paw, dwarfing it in his own, suddenly aware of the thick callouses that had been growing steadily thicker since he'd taken up learning about crafting.
His eyes shifted to the second kit as Sleet turned to it. Upon closer inspection, Redin found he had to suppress a chuckle at himself for feeling threatened by one such as this. He made a dismissive gesture with his free paw, leaning the claymore back against the tree.
"Ah, no worries. There was no harm done, though the bugger DID wake me from a perfectly good nap."
He did laugh then, hearing himself complaining about such an insignificant issue so shortly after a reunion with his long-lost friend.
"Listen to me talk about sleep, I must be aging early." He eyed the two kits, both of whom appeared to be disgruntled that they couldn't be doing anything more interesting.
"I see you've been doing well, then."
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