Move

[Skipper]

One, step right swing. Two, glance weave slice duck. . .

Blake Enslin, the only Redwaller up and about outside the Abbey walls this early in the morning, was, at this time, practicing his sword-flailing. He usually started lightly, beginning with basic maneuvers, as he slowly worked his way up to the seemingly impossible sword techniques he invented himself. There was one particular move developed by Martin the Warrior himself, which Blake had stumbled upon while searching through the Gatehouse scrolls a few seasons ago. He still couldn't quite pull the move off, though, and this sometimes resulted in yet another trip to the Infirmary. He visited Tirael enough that, by this point, the two were good friends.

Three, swing spin-overhead-swing revolve-swing. . .

The longer Blake's practice continued, the faster the mouse would move, eventually reaching a point where there seemed to be several blades flashing in the air at once. Things really got fun when he drew his second sword.

Four, uppercut uppercut uppercut spin-swing -- hold.

Blake came to a complete halt, just quick enough to keep from striking the beast who had just approached. It was quite normal for him to not notice somebeast coming during his sword-flailing sessions, but most never came this close to him. This intrusion irritated the young mouse, and he simply stood there, his arms folded, to allow the beast explain what exactly was so important. "What?"

((This can either be an introduction to the Horde -- whoeveritis might have come to warn Blake -- or just a something-to-do thread. Vermin welcome. ))

[dirgecallers]

Abbey walls, red stone, purported to be the strongest defence in all of mossflower. Of these matters, earthcrawlers always thought they knew best. Invincible in their stone houses, they were assured that no harm could come to them . Not even in their darkest dreams could any villian breach those famous walls of stone. Naive, all of them.

For one such villian had already penetrated the defences of the storied walls. Nay he was already on top of them. The amnesac rat Weghul, might have been a genuine threat in earlier days. Back when he still had his memory, he had lived for himself, and only him. Now, he was basically harmless, and that was why the kind Redwallers had let him in.

Now, perhaps succumbing to his helplessness, a watch was no longer placed upon him. It was figured that he could do no lasting harm to anybeast. No harm did he intend, but much mischeif maybe. Like a babe he wandered around the abbey grounds, trying to find himself. Risks he took that he would have never dared in days past.

One of these new adventures was wall balancing. The rat precariously walked along the edge of the outer most ramparts, carefull to keep his balance intact. It looked as if he could do it, too if it were not for a sword wielding mouse practicing dangerously close to where Weghul was. Something had to be done.

He continued on, hopeful that the beast would notice him before he got too near. Alas, the mouse did not. An aparent uppercut later, Weghul lost his balance with a shrill shriek. Falling backward, he only barely managed to hold on to his balance. With a desperate gamble, he jumped foward, which was better than falling backward into the plain. The plan succeded, and Weghul and the mouse both fell into a heap.

(done)

[Skipper]

The collision was unexpected, and not at all welcome. Blake shoved the rat off of himself, and stood, brushing dust from his fur. Now very irritated, the young mouse glared icily at the rat, as he scolded Weghul. "Wot d'you think ye're doing?" His adopted otterspeech showed through, overshadowing most of the traditional mousespeech.

He knew Weghul, and he wasn't very happy with his Abbey Brethren for treating the vermin as an abbeydweller. He didn't possess prejudice against vermin, but that didn't mean he would trust one in the Abbey. Honestly, when had this ever ended well?

[dirgecallers]

Weghul jumped off of Blake as fast as he possibly could. No sense getting this beast all angry at HIM. Weghul was already under enough suspicion without bringing more upon himself needlessly. An apology was in order. Maybe not to the mouse directly, but more to assuage his pride.

"So..rry good sirs", the rat stuttered. "I mean no harm in any way. It wos jist a sad accident that brought me down onto you".What he didn't say, was that he disliked the mouse just as much as the mouse disliked him. The feeling was mutual. Of course, this confrontation was bound to have happened one way or the other.

"More's the point, I don't need no excuse to wander by me self at all." Weghul felt small, as if he needed to defend himself. "I gots free right, roaming around dis county. I be under protection from de Abbey." A little smirk, as Weghul started to gain some more confidence. "The deal is dat you blocked my fall, so I must dank yew mistah."

(Done)

[Skipper]

"More's the point, I don't need no excuse to wander by me self at all. I gots free right, roaming around dis county. I be under protection from de Abbey. The deal is dat you blocked my fall, so I must dank yew mistah."

Blake responded somewhat absently, still attempting to brush the dust out of his fur. "Accident or not, you should really watch your step. D'you know how steep a fall that is?" Here, Blake picked up a fallen sword. "An' d'ye know 'ow sharp this is?" Better a broken leg than a severed one.

Honestly, though, Blake was more intent on cleaning his fur than lecturing Weghul. It just bothered him dreadfully, no doubt more than most beasts.

"Now if ye'll excuse me..." Blake drew his second sword, having decided to skip the first half of his "dance," so to speak, which was so rudely interrupted.

The swordsmouse stepped back, acted as if to resume his training, but stopped again, sheathed his second sword, and stared inquiringly at Weghul. "Wot, exactly, were ye doing up on the wall, anyway?" Blake wasn't much of a detective, and figured that age led to maturity, therefore Weghul must have had a reason for being on the wall -- only Dibbuns did such things for no reason, and even they learned, in time.

[dirgecallers]

Weghul glared at the otter with disdain. How dare this creature try to dictate where he could and could not go? It was preposterous in its entirety! Certainly Weghul was entitled freedom to roam where ever he pleased. There was no denying that obtuse beasts such as this otter would forever question his motives for doing even the simplelist things!

"Den know where I be going," Weghul answered Blake. "I no need to be specifibally encer any den questions. Din only me bisniss where I goes." He wagged his paw at the otter in a defensive posture. "I kin figger out me life widdout lectures or swordthreats."

In the corner of his eye, Weghul saw a possible excuse open up. Taking the advantage, he pointed out to some location behind the otter. "Din der is inn wall..." He spoke suddenly and swiftly. "There is de hole inna wall! I be feared creatures sneeking in unknoeing, ....I jist be doing my part."

(done)

[Skipper]

Blake raised an eyebrow as Weghul spoke. Looking over his shoulder to where the rat indicated, he could see the small hole in the wall. For as long as the mouse had known, that hole had always been there, though the memory was vague, and one couldn't be too certain. Still...

"I don't think anybeast could fit through that hole. I doubt I could. 'Sides, vermin haven't been seen 'round 'ere for ages..." Blake spoke with an absent mind, but just as he finished his sentence, he looked up at Weghul in realization of his use of the word "vermin."

((For the record, Blake's a mouse.))