Redwall Logs

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Guosim Camp: Mid Camp Ferilla emerges from the east. Jul 8, 2015 at 9:36 p.m.
Adyna heads east. Jul 8, 2015 at 9:36 p.m.
Ferilla heads east. Jul 8, 2015 at 9:36 p.m.
Ferilla emerges from the west. Jul 8, 2015 at 9:36 p.m.
Ferilla goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 9, 2015 at 8:19 a.m.
Ferilla goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 9, 2015 at 9:42 a.m.
Haven heads east. Jul 9, 2015 at 2:04 p.m.
Adyna goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 9, 2015 at 2:17 p.m.
Adyna goes In Character. Jul 9, 2015 at 3:04 p.m.
Ajax heads west. Jul 9, 2015 at 6:38 p.m.
Ajax emerges from the east. Jul 9, 2015 at 6:38 p.m.
Ajax heads east. Jul 9, 2015 at 6:38 p.m.
John_Wesley goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 10, 2015 at 5:46 a.m.
Jaksor heads east. Jul 10, 2015 at 7:31 a.m.
Ferilla goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 10, 2015 at 8:17 a.m.
Ferilla goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 10, 2015 at 9:34 a.m.
It's hot. Again. The Guosim camp by the stream, with its minimal tree cover, feels the full force of a Mossflower summer, the packed dirt hard and dry, any slight breeze stirring up hints of dust that goes spinning away as the wind dies. Ferilla, partially to cleanse herself after her encounter with another mangy fox and a snake and partially to cool off, has taken a bath, her fur and hair still slightly damp now, though she's redressed minus her jacket, which lies off to one side with her bags of spoils from the raid, along with a bent silver candlestick. Presently, she's seated under her little lean to, which has been expanded to accomodate her seated figure instead of just a little burrow to sleep in. A hollowed out gourd half-full of water sits by her knee. Jul 10, 2015 at 10:52 a.m.
Word is slowly spreading throughout Mossflower of the heist in Ferravale. A theft of such audacity and large proportion hasn't been pulled off in these parts for quite some time, and it's drawn the attention of both sides of the law. Search parties have been sent out to locate the vermin crew, and a few hopeful admirers have been making curious forays into the area. John Wesley Weasel is just one such hopeful, but he is significantly more lucky than most. The little weasel watches Ferilla from the cover of the treeline, waiting and wandering how best to make his debut appearance. Jul 10, 2015 at 11 a.m.
The ermine leans back, her head resting against the smooth wood of the trashed hut's wall, her violet eyes studying the canvas overhead for a moment, then shutting gently. Her sword rests across her thighs, but otherwise, she doesn't seem too terribly alert, although the occaisional flick of an ear might lend the impression that she's not completely given over to sleep. After all, as incompetent as they are, Bindi and Vannon should find any intruders before they disturb her, and they're sure to make a loud enough din to wake her, even if she does submit to an afternoon nap. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:05 a.m.
The rascally duo of Bindi and Vannon are about as effective at keeping watch as your average garden gnome, however; John Wesley remains unimpeded, mostly by sheer dumb luck. He's squatted in the middle of a bush, like some sort of cartoon character's hunting blind, and therefore invisible as long as he doesn't move. However, he does move, and rather noisily, breaking branches and getting tangled as he tries to move stealthily into the camp. What this all looks like /from/ the camp is a bunch of waving shrubbery and a significant amount of rustling noises. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:19 a.m.
The cracking of twigs and the rustle of shrubbery makes an eye crack open, violet iris revealed slowly, glancing about. "Stupid rat.." she mutters under her breath, shutting her eyes for a second and then opening them for good, sitting up. From where she sits, she sees the unnatural movement of the nearby bushes, rolling her eyes a little. The thought of an intruder isn't out of her mind, but she still thinks it's probably Bindi wandering about. She casts a glance across the rest of the clearing, just in case it's merely a distraction, and, seeing nothing, gets to her feet, crawling out from under her little awning. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:26 a.m.
John_Wesley looks up from where his foot is tangle in the underbrush to see Ferilla stand, and after a brief moment of poor decision-making, draws the rusted cleaver at his side and gives the offending flora a good whack. With a crow of victory, he emerges into the open, cleaver brandished high. "Wahaha! I's founda you!" His voice is a high-pitched, squeaky shrill, reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard, that even his mother must have found annoying. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:30 a.m.
The jill doesn't even flinch when he emerges, studying the weasel's ratty visage carefully. "So you have." she says, advancing towards him several paces with her paw on her sword hilt. "Now, I think you might want ta forget you ever saw anything an' leave." she suggests cooly. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:32 a.m.
"Ohhhh no," John Wesley replies, shaking his head defiantly from side to side, waving his cleaver dramatically for emphasis. "I's norra goin' anywheres. Me found-a you, an' now you's gonna give-a me all yer valoobols." He seems to have a cursory grasp on the finer mechanisms of grammar at best. "Now givem up! You bring-a th' val-bols t' John Wesley Weasel!" Jul 10, 2015 at 11:35 a.m.
Ferilla can't help but snicker, holding up her paws. "Oh, well when ya put it that way, take anythin' you want, jus' don't hurt me." she tells him, voice dripping with mockery she doubts the lout with detect. Just come a little bit closer now... Jul 10, 2015 at 11:40 a.m.
John_Wesley laughs, jabbing his cleaver in Ferilla's general direction with a level of ineptness that is threatening in its own right. "Thaaaaa's right, snow-rat she-face," he gloats, stepping closer to poke more pointedly at her. "Now hurrah up an' go get dem val-bols f' John Wesley." He says his own name with a surprisingly educated cadence completely unlike the rest of his speech. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:46 a.m.
Snow-rat she-face. "That's a new one." she mutters, taking a step inwards, drawing her sword out of her sheath in a reverse grip with her left paw, leaving her right free to swing a haymaker at the weasel's jaw. The sword is more to knock away his cleaver than to injure him, but depending on how he reacts and exactly how inept he is... well, it is a razor sharp sword. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:49 a.m.
Treachery! She never meant to bring him the loot after all. John Wesley gives a startled, betrayed snarl, stumbling back to dodge the swing but still taking a clip to the chin, which sends him tumbling back onto his rump. The cleaver swings wildly, more free-fall than feint, hitting possibly anything, possibly nothing. It's hard to tell. Jul 10, 2015 at 11:56 a.m.
Ferilla takes a blow from the cleaver on the guard of her sword, thrusting her paw forwards to knock the weasel's cumbersome blade aside. She covers the distance between them quickly, planting her foot on the weasel's chest. With a quick display of dexterity, she spins the sword around so that the blade is oriented upward, like it would normally be held. Then the tip drops to John Wesley's throat. "This is th' part where you beg." she tells him. Jul 10, 2015 at 12:01 p.m.
The cleaver's tip is thrust aside, but somehow John Wesley hangs onto it. He lets out a loud 'oof' as her foot shoves his back against the ground and pushes the air out of his chest. And then there's a swordpoint pressed against his throat. Hm. The weasel is still, his ribs pressing up against Ferilla's chest by his shallow breathing, as he thinks this one over. Jul 10, 2015 at 12:20 p.m.
"That could've gone better, hm?" she says, keeping the point as his throat. "Now, if ye'd drop that cleaver, we kin talk." at least, as much as you seem capable of. It occurs to her that this little weasel might be a great minion. And by minion, she means cannon fodder. Jul 10, 2015 at 12:23 p.m.
He seems* Jul 10, 2015 at 12:23 p.m.
"I norra talk wid snow-rat she-faces," John Wesley objects obstinately, squirming under the ermine's foot and unsuccessfully attempting to maneuver his cleaver into some sort of striking pose. The sword must follow the violent shifts of his head as he puts all of his might into freeing himself of the foot. He's surprisingly strong for as small and stupid as he is. "You norra kill John Wesley!" Jul 10, 2015 at 12:32 p.m.
That term again. It's just got so much uneeded excess. Doesn't ermine suffice, or jill? Or some expletive? She shrugs, "Fine," she says, lifting her sword and placing the tip against the weasel's sword, er... cleaver wrist, pressing against the tendons and veins located there. "If you won't talk wit' me, i'll just pin ya to the ground here in the sun until someone ya will talk to shows up." she threatens. Jul 10, 2015 at 12:38 p.m.
That term again. It's just got so much uneeded excess. Doesn't ermine suffice, or jill? Or some expletive? She shrugs, "Fine," she says, lifting her sword and placing the tip against the shoulder of the weasel's sword, er... cleaver arm, pressing against the tendons located there. "If you won't talk wit' me, i'll just pin ya to the ground here in the sun until someone ya will talk to shows up." she threatens. Jul 10, 2015 at 12:47 p.m.
John_Wesley freezes as the blade begins to press into his shoulder, a slight trickle of blood oozing up to tint his tunic a new and different shade. Panic finally lights in the weasel's eyes as he squeals. "Nnnnahahaaaaa... no! No no, John Wesley talk. John Wesley talkabout alla things wid she-face." He pauses slightly, and then before she can speak again, bursts back into speech. "Talkabout da sky-place an' da rainfall. She-face wanna talk we talk." The hapless bandit nods nervously. Why, of course she just wants to talk about the weather! She wants small talk, that must be it. Females will look anywhere to find an ear to chatter in. Jul 10, 2015 at 12:50 p.m.
"Oh good, I was hoping you-" she sighs as he starts to ramble. Oh dear. "No. Stop." she insists, digging the blade in a little. She glances about, still seeing nobody around. "I jus' wanna know why you're here, an' if you really thought ya could take us down." Jul 10, 2015 at 12:55 p.m.
John_Wesley stops talking when Ferilla pushes her sword in, a bit more red wicking up into his tunic, making a nice, round-ish stain to offset all the others. "Watch-you want, snow-rat, talk or norra talk?" John Wesley's voice is getting frustrated, and his face screws up as he stares down the ermine clearly in control here. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:05 p.m.
"I just wanna know why you're here, an' if you really thought you could take us down." She repeats her question, trying to speak as clearly as possible, enunciating. "Answer me that, an' we kin go from there, and maybe I won't have to hurt you any more." Jul 10, 2015 at 1:08 p.m.
Defiance seems to come in waves for John Wesley, and he's riding the swell of another. "She-face cannorra 'urt John Wesley! I norra tell you no-fing." Until a little extra push of the sword in his shoulder reminds him about the stakes here. "...John Wesley be 'lone," he admits, voice dropping. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:11 p.m.
John_Wesley is the group's newest minion. Or will be shortly. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:13 p.m.
She withdraws the sword, resting the flat of the blade on her shoulder casually, still keeping a little weight on the weasel's chest. She's basically decided that her questions aren't going to be answered. "Get lost, then, we don't need more trash." In her might, John Wesley means merely another inept mouth to feed, and an inconvenience that makes her cut of the loot diminish even further. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:19 p.m.
Jaksor takes this opportunity to emerge from the entry path, shirtless and dripping wet. The polecat is hauling a large fish by the lip, his hook rammed through in a surprisingly apt application of his late-life deformity. He stops short at the sight of the ermine atop the weasel. This place just never ceases to amaze. "....So wha's all this then, eh?" Jul 10, 2015 at 1:23 p.m.
"John Wesley Weasel!" comes the cry from beneath Ferilla's foot. "You get dis snow-rat offa me!" The sword gone, he begins violently squirming again, slipping out from her grasp and scooting a few feet away, cleaver held out in front of him. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:26 p.m.
The jill steps back, wiping the little bit of blood from the tip of her blade with her palm, staining her white fur. "Little weasel sneaking aroun' the bushes. Not dangerous, really, jus' snoopin'." she offers, her blade held loosely, tip pointed downwards. "What do you wanna do with him." Jul 10, 2015 at 1:28 p.m.
?* Jul 10, 2015 at 1:28 p.m.
Jaksor keeps his voice low, eyes flicking from the weasel to Ferilla. "What's he want then?" Jul 10, 2015 at 1:30 p.m.
John_Wesley continues to menace the pair with his cleaver, not particularly concerned with the contents of their conversation. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:30 p.m.
The ermine shrugs. "Won't tell me. Loot, it seems." she offers simply. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:32 p.m.
"Fair enough." Jaksor looks around the ermine to John Wesley. "'ey there, y'like loot, eh?" Jul 10, 2015 at 1:33 p.m.
John_Wesley nods, eying the polecat suspiciously. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:33 p.m.
"Food too?" Jaksor holds the fish up, letting it spin slowly, glistening with the river. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:34 p.m.
John_Wesley nods again, eyes drawn to the fish like a magnet to metal. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:34 p.m.
Ferilla steps back, sheathing her sword slowly, standing beside Jaskor. "You're not really gonna recruit him, are ya?" she asks, increduluously. "He wanted ta attack us." she points out. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:35 p.m.
"Alrigh' then, you join us, do wha' I say, do wha' she says, you c'n stay." The polecat nods at Ferilla during his speech. Bindi and Vannon are not mentioned. "I'll let y' 'ave a bit of th' food an' loot too. But." He nods towards Ferilla again. "Misbehave an' I let 'er skin ya." Jul 10, 2015 at 1:37 p.m.
All this is followed by a look at Ferilla that says, 'are you kidding me?' Jul 10, 2015 at 1:37 p.m.
John_Wesley nods, lowering the cleaver. It seems these are agreeable terms. "I norra like dat one," he replies, pointing at the ermine with his cleaver. Jul 10, 2015 at 1:41 p.m.
She spreads her paws out in a gesture that combines with the look she gives him to say 'Are /you/ kidding /me/?' She likes that Jaksor's essentially verbally confirming her second in commandship, and likes that she'll be given authority over John Wesley's fate, but again, this means splitting the loot and the food. She turns back to face the weasel as her indicates her with the cleaver. "Yeah, well the feelin's mutual." Jul 10, 2015 at 1:43 p.m.
" Jul 10, 2015 at 1:44 p.m.
Otto heads south. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:29 p.m.
Otto heads west. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:29 p.m.
Otto emerges from the east. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:29 p.m.
Otto heads east. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:30 p.m.
Bafaloukos goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:32 p.m.
Ferilla goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:33 p.m.
Otto goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:33 p.m.
Kevi heads east. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:38 p.m.
Riverdale looks at the map. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:39 p.m.
Kevi says, "Yeah, this is really a 'campsite'." Jul 12, 2015 at 7:39 p.m.
Otto stumbles into camp, exhausted and breathing hard before tripping over his footpaws and sliding into the dirt, "Bloody hell, " He just lays there, ehausted and not seeming to care that he's invaded someone's camp. At least for the moment. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:51 p.m.
It has been a quiet night so far, save for the occasional strum of a bullfrog or the changing of shifts. Summer sits heavily upon the camp. The guards have settled in at their sleepy posts; they peer into the darkness. It has been a quiet night. Until--an explosion. The roof of a ramshackle hut, near the edge of camp, erupts, burping a gout of flame that frenzies in midair for a moment before evaporating. Light pours out through the newly formed hole, and little sparks of fire begin to naw at the thatch. Smoke begins to rise. The door of the hut opens, discharging a panting Timeon onto the ground. He lies prone, glancing back over his shoulder to survey the damage. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:54 p.m.
Kevi grins, squatting just beyond the corner of the infirmary looking onto the firepit. The front half of her illuminated in the warm, orange glow of firelight, her back and tail cast in blue moonlight. She'll observe for the time being. That is, until there's an explosion which she doesn't see, just beyond the infirmary in another hut. The vixen, startled, scampers behind the building to see what the commotion is, and spots Timeon. A glowing smile grows on her face, and she watches him for a moment. Jul 12, 2015 at 7:57 p.m.
Night once again finds our antiheroes milling about the dilapidated shrew outpost. The central fire burns hot in the east, making an already stagnant summer night even more miserable. To avoid this wretched heat, Bafaloukos has moved away from the pit, into the interior of the camp. He reclines in the dirt, one ankle hitched on the opposite knee, nursing a wineskin and staring into the star-stippled sky. "What th' hell!" he barks when the roof of the hut loudly bursts into flames, having not expected guard duty to entail actual work. Thoroughly baffled, the fox is on his feet and headed for the blaze, wine abandoned and hand on the hilt of his sword. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:02 p.m.
Ferilla starts awake at the sudden crack and whoosh of the explosion, hitting her head on the low canvas ceiling of the shelter she's fashioned from the remains of one of the abondoned Guosim huts. Her ears flatten back against her skull instinctively to prevent being crushed up against the roof as her neck tilts forwards. A low curse escapes from her lips as she shoves her head out one end of the shelter, able to see the glow of the growing flames against the night sky. Grabbing up her sword, she wriggles out of her bed, getting to her feet and looking around. "Jaksor? Bindi?" she calls, keeping her tone relatively low. She whips the sheath off of her sword and onto the ground, leaving the bare blade in her paw as she advances across the clearing towards the flames. She's neglected to don her jacket, one side of her blouse dropping a bit to expose white-furred shoulder. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:05 p.m.
Flowerbud enters the infirmary. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:10 p.m.
Its quiet, peaceful even as Otto lays in the dirt. He having moved onto his back so he could look up at the night sky. The shattering noise of the explosion gets his attention and the cat exhausted or not gets to his feet and reaches for his dagger. It isn't there though of course and he hisses, "Just my luck, " He mutters, hearing beasts nearby approaching the location of the explosion he approaches as well cautiously. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:10 p.m.
Timeon pushes himself to his feet and tears off through the camp, darting among the huts. He flings himself past the infirmary and nearly runs into Kevi. "For toad's sake, sis! Get some water!" He lags in her vicinity for a moment, held back by a biological need to taunt her. "Don't just bloody gawk! An' get that bloody smirk off your face," he snarls through his own less-than-pretty muzzle, then whips around the bend, heading for a gap in the fence to the north--heading toward the River Moss. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:14 p.m.
Kevi ignores Timeon for now, taking advantage, as she always does, of a diversion. It might be decent wine, after all! She slips along the wall of the infirmary, making sure to navigate and use the mound of dirt to her advantage, keeping it between the scene of the action and said antiheroes and herself, and quickly nabbing the wineskin and slipping back to her place of concealment north of what's going on with her brother and the others. She relaxes her back against the building, opening the wineskin and taking her fill, stretching her neck around and feeling the coolness of the mud on her bare, furless left cheek. The vixen gives a sigh--it isn't bad wine, but it could be better. Hearing the further commotion, she crawls on paws and knees to spy again, "Damnit, brother..." she whispers to herself, "Don't give me away you dumb brute." Jul 12, 2015 at 8:15 p.m.
With both fires roiling, camp soon feels like an inferno. If the denizens of Camp Willow were oblivious to the squatters' presence before, they will be well aware of it after tonight. The GUOSIM built their makeshift village on the bank opposite the otter stronghold. Once, the pugnacious cliques may have traded labor and arms, but the camp has been empty for umpteen seasons. These ragtag vermin are not the first to make use it, so recent smoke from the fire pit would not be reason for alarm, but *this* is new. First the boom, then the barks. As the pyro novices almost collide, so too do Bafaloukos and Ferilla. He meets the ermine with wide, confused eyes. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:20 p.m.
"You!" Ferilla says, still unclear on how to pronounce the fox's name, "What the hell is going on?" she asks, then the firelight lights his face and it's clear he's as clueless and scared as she is. She steps a few paces away, sword held down as she surveys the area. "Nothin' of ours over there." she points out. "But this fire'll spread." she says with apparent annoyance as she surveys the dry kindling of the camp after a slew of hot summer days. Now, the question is: Find the perpretrators, or squelch the flames. "Let's get over there." she growls, gesturing towards the apparent epicenter of the fire with her free paw. Her idea is to make sure there's not going to be any more booms. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:26 p.m.
A flaming roof flies up to meet Otto, and he falls back to watch the thatch roof, mostly burnt and still a little flaming landing nearby, "What hell have I stumbled into?" Quickly though he's back on his feet, and hears the approaching footpaws moving towards him. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:32 p.m.
Adyna arrives in long order, rubbing her eyes, squinting at the blazing hut and smelling of strong drink, and falls unsteadily into the strangest formation ever conceived. She picks her way carefully over the ground with rapier in paw and flanks Bafaloukos, for a /very/ vague definition of 'flanks', keeping enough distance that no one's getting stuck by accident. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:35 p.m.
Timeon slips back into camp the way he came. He's still puffing along, but his jog is rendered somewhat less effective by the burden of a full water bucket. (He must have pilfered it from somewhere near the shore--there's usually a stray lying about.) The remaining fringe of thatch roof on the hut is nearly burnt away now, and the fire has begun to gnaw at the walls, growing brighter and hotter. Timeon's about to step out into the light thrown off by the burning hut, when he sees Ferilla, Bafaloukos, and Adyna approaching. The fox curses quietly and slips back into the pocket of shadow behind the infirmary. "Toads! Toads /damn/ it!" The water sloshes. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:36 p.m.
Kevi watches after her brother, leaning around the corner to make sure nobeast saw him slip out--can't that dull tod stay still for a single second? She /bitterly/ resents being left with him, though his usefulness somewhat sustains the both of them. He's a great deal more knowledgeable in the art of gunpowdering, but she has her own tricks. "C'mere, you fool! What did you leave in the hut? Anything of use to us? Otherwise, it's no longer our problem. I need to handle this very carefully--you. Stay here." She tosses the winesack up onto the roof of the infirmary. Propping herself up, she takes the bucket and runs out, tossing it from enough distance that there's a wide arc of water to douse the entire roof. She stands, in full view of the others. Jul 12, 2015 at 8:44 p.m.
Slowing his sprint to a canter, Bafaloukos gives Ferilla a goofy nod, as if to say, "But of course!" This is no time for machismo, though. As the pair continues for the blaze, they catch a good view of the hut as it starts to collapse. The fox glances over a shoulder when he hears Adyna's crunchy footfalls behind them, and by the time he looks forward again, Kevi is there. Steam billows from the smothered hut fire, but sparks have ignited leaf litter in the area--most are still weak enough to stomp. He stops a distance from the vixen, too aghast to notice Timeon or Otto just yet, and brings his boot down upon a smoldering patch of earth. "You!" Now it's his turn. An exasperated hand combs back his auburn hair, before the fox begins to berate Kevi: "Ye' trying to reveal us to th' whole damn forest? Since when has 'secret rendezvous' meant torch th' local huts?" Jul 12, 2015 at 8:53 p.m.
The ermine is a little surprised by Adyna's arrival, but after a moment of hesitation behind a raised sword, she recognizes the stoat, though Ferilla coesn't know her name either, yet. Nevertheless, there are more pressing matters. Advancing across the clearing with Baf, she spots Kevi about the same time as the others do, her lip curling in a contemptuous snarl. She lets the todd next to her get his words in, before adding. " 'Less, of course, she plans ta draw attention ta us, so she kin better make off with her bigger share." she says coldly. It's unlikely that Kevi can hear that particular accusation over the crackling of the small fires, but if she can, the jill doesn't seem to mind. It was directed at Bafaloukos anyways. Her eyes dart about, still expecting some sort of further trap. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:01 p.m.
Timeon has no prepared response--at least no polite one--so it's just as well for him that Kevi steps out to extinguish the fire. He uses the time to slink away. None of the others seems to have noticed the burning roof, which, lofted by the force of the explosion, landed a short distance to the east. Timeon cuts a beeline for it--a few well-aimed kicks should suffice to quell the sparks. On the way, he spots Otto. "Oy, stranger. What you doing slinking about where you ain't wanted?" That's actually one of his more polite greetings. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:16 p.m.
Kevi holds the bucket to her hip, leaning her form into it as her gaze follows the sword up the down feather and hide sleeve of Bafaloukos, to a pair of not-so-friendly eyes glaring back at her, "What, my sweet; I thought it might be a nice idea to test our wits with a drill in case of real sabotage. Preparedness is key." She looks at Ferilla, bringing the bucket up to midriff level with the open end toward the ermine's weapon, "We've been here before, I think, yes?" She winks, before turning back to Bafaloukos, "Look, it wasn't me. I've brought somebeast who might be a bit more useful than a potential liability--the truth is that we come as a team, okay? He's good with..." She points, unsure of what at, "...this stuff. I guess. I'll make sure his future experiments don't endanger the group, if you don't immediately kill us." She turns to watch her brother stamping out the roof. "See, he's... helping." Jul 12, 2015 at 9:18 p.m.
In the middle distance, Timeon stamps out the roof. Little clouds of sparks flutter up around him, but they fade in midair to an unmenacing black. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:21 p.m.
Bafaloukos ceases to accost the vixen when another unknown voice takes his attention, but not before threatening to turn Kevi into a stole. "Oh, aye. Ye' will make a lovely ornament on th' neck of a fat mousewife." He has already begun to trot for the strangers when she speaks again. "Ye' *brought* another? That ain't how this works, doll." The blade of his weapon glints in the sparks that fly up around Timeon. "Oi! Hands up, cousin." He leaves Kevi to the lady mustelids. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:24 p.m.
"What the hell, you lot are trouble I've just met you!" Otto suddenly shouts and makes himself known, he has also started to help smother the remaining fires/stomping out what he can. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:26 p.m.
What is it with this crazy vixen and her buckets? "Oh, give me that!" Ferilla hisses, stepping in close, grabbing at the bucket to throw it aside, drawing her sword back close to her body, fist closed around the hilt and apparently poised to strike at Kevi if the vixen gets too mouthy for the ermine's tastes. "You git your paws up too!" she yells at Otto as he speaks, pointing at him with her free paw, whether her attempt to knock the bucket away was sucessful or not. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:29 p.m.
Adyna pricks her ears up to the exchange but keeps her mouth shut - only casting uneasy glances towards the camp across the river. She's lowered the rapier at this point and keeps pace with Bafaloukos, still flanking him by a few yards. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:34 p.m.
"Aye, where I can see 'em! Both of ye'." Bafaloukos barks at the cat, echoing Ferilla's demand. The remaining brush fires have the fox less concerned than the chance that thare other unknown creatures here. He halts his approach on the firefighting interlopers. "Over here," he instructs, motioning for them to exit the shadows. The fox wants Timeon and Otto away from the forest line, lest they escape into the thick summer foliage. "Slowly, slowly..." comes his coax. "Good. Now plant your rumps in the dirt right there. Move to fast an' I'll gut ye'." Jul 12, 2015 at 9:36 p.m.
In a quick motion, the vixen swings the bucket out and behind her and switching paws behind her back, brings it up with the other paw to her head, securing the bucket there with the handle dangling just under her chin. "Buckets are useful. I learned from my last encounter with explosions, as you might have noticed." She looks in the direction of her brother and Otto again, a split second of concern before rolling her eyes in disgust, "He's harmless, don't worry. Unless there's something in his paws." She squints. He couldn't have obtained any explosives /THAT/ quickly, surely? Jul 12, 2015 at 9:37 p.m.
Timeon looks at Kevi, hoping for some directions, but she's in as grim a situation as he is, and she's ... got a bucket... on her head? Maybe it's the daft act again? Not that that's ever worked for them. Timeon snarls but complies with Bafa's order, showing his empty paws. "Brave a ya," he spits, "Threatening an unarmed tod." Jul 12, 2015 at 9:40 p.m.
In a foul mood the cat finished putting out one last fire before putting up his paws, "Aye, ya the one with the sword so I guess I should eh? Crazed beasts the lot of you, " Otto for the first time takes in and looks over his captors and his fellow prisoner. As Bafaloukos barks an order he complies a bit faster and with more seriousness. His paws above his head, he does as he's told. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:41 p.m.
The ermine's blade drops as she watches the vixen don the bucket like a helmet. Whatever. Ferilla can't be bothered at this point. "He blew this here hut sky high, did he not?" she asks Kevi, violet eyes meeting the vixen's own irises sternly, her sword point indicating the todd. Without waiting for a clear answer that she feels certain she won't get, she calls to Bafaloukos. "Tie them both, at the wrists, 'hind the back." she instructs him. "We'll deal wit' 'em in light of day, provided those otters don't come snooping." she decides, her sword point swinging back to face Kevi, hovering at about knee height. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:46 p.m.
"Yes--well I'm sure he wasn't able to get the perhaps quarter gallon of powder far from his paws before doing so, from the smolder still rising from him. As I said--if he's not near it or it's not in his paws, he's otherwise quite a docile creature.." Kevi shoves a paw into a pocket of the loin cloth, other paw hanging from the bucket's handle, looking at Adyna, nodding. "Exciting evening so far, hm?" Jul 12, 2015 at 9:51 p.m.
Wondering how he'll be dealt with, the cat for a moment at least thinks he should flee. He's still exhausted and worn out from his previous adventures before getting himself into this mess and for the moment at least he lets himself be subduded. He does say at least, "I ain't had anything do with no explosion, was all him." He points towards bucket head. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:53 p.m.
The science of combustion is, of course, lost on Bafaloukos. "Who are ye'? Some kind of warlock?" he asks Timeon, having heard of their kind. Stories pour from sailors and drunkards, featuring every manner of monster and magic; even creatures who summon great fires at whim, leveling villages and obliterating ships. Annoyance calls his lip to curl when the ermine directs him to tie the pair. "Sorry, love. Didn't think to take th' rope when I went running to check the demon clap that turned into *fire*." He sloughs the responsibility off on Adyna. "Fetch us some twine, Ady?" Jul 12, 2015 at 9:55 p.m.
The drunkard isn't the best support for the sloughed-off responsibility - but with a shake of her head and without a word she recedes into the gloom. The gleam of her rapier follows her for a while, twinkling. Jul 12, 2015 at 9:58 p.m.
The brother, meanwhile, juts his chin out at his sister, seeing the execution of her 'careful' dealings of the situation failing him miserably for the moment. Timeon turns to Otto, "Ey... y' didn' answer me, cat. From what side o' the Moss did y' wander in--ey what's 'at?" He tilts his head at Bafaloukos, turning to his sister again with a confused expression and back up at the bigger fox. "I ain't no warlock, you. 'Aven't ye ever seen an explosion afore? Truth is I wanted to be a magician, but this be the next best thing, I'm sure." There's definitely a resemblance there--just a mirror one. The brother has similar scarring on his right side to Kevi's left. He stares up at Baf defiantly. "Want a repeat performance, per'aps?" He grins. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:03 p.m.
Ferilla rubs her head a little at Kevi's long-winded and casual answer. "Y'know, you talk smooth, but those streamdogs over there?" she indicates across the river, "They won't fall fer it. They only like one type a' vixen, an' thas a dead one. Understand?" she asks, the jill's slim white head jutting forwards to ensure she's making eye contact with the bucket-headed vixen. She realizes the slight risk you took at trying to order Bafa around sort of backfired, but not spectacularly, and the job is still being done, so she considers it a net success. She doesn't bother with the warlock talk, though she has heard tales.. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:04 p.m.
With his captors not responding to him, the gray cat goes quiet and simply stands there looking exhausted as he feels. He's wearing a simple green tunic, a brown belt around his hips, and sbrown slacks. Both dirtied, his face and the rest of him covered in dirt as well. He doesn't have anything but the clothes on his back. At Timeon's question Otto glares, "Just shut up, its your fault I'm in this mess. Ain't got nutin' to say to you." Jul 12, 2015 at 10:07 p.m.
"Well, then, perhaps this isn't exactly the best place to be lighting fires, either the kind of warlocks /or/ of the normal." Kevi places her paws on hips, "Well, what is it now, anyway--if they heard us, they heard us." She gives up talking her way out of this and leaves their fate as it lands. The vixen got a decent swill of the cute one's drink, at least. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:10 p.m.
Adyna returns with whatever rope she scrounge up thrown up on one shoulder, and tosses it in a heap beside Bafaloukos. There - now it's his problem again. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:13 p.m.
No, Bafaloukos decides. This whelp could never wield that sort of magic--nor could his obnoxious sister. "If they heard us, our hides'll be decorating their camp by sunrise." His looks warily toward the river, although not much is visible beyond the trunks of the closest oaks. When the stoat unceremoniously plops the rope beside him, he gives her a look of resignation, then starts to roughly tie the Otto and Timeon. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:17 p.m.
Otto wordlessly lets himself be tied, avoding looking at any beast. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:20 p.m.
The ermine looks over at Baf. "Might want to tie the cat's ankles too, he seemed to wanna run." she suggests, stooping to pick up a length of rope. She's going to try this once, she thinks, circling behind Kevi and grabbing at her paws, attempting to hold them behind her back and tie her at the wrists. Kevi won't know this, but just about any resistance she puts up at this point will dissuade Ferilla from taking the effort to finish the job. "I'll go on watch." she offers to Bafaloukos. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:22 p.m.
Timeon doubles over, putting his muzzle to his knees and rocking back and forth. "Yah but.. I mean, we 'ave a decent number, right? I don' even have a full good hide, meself..." The tod lets the thought of his outer parts being used for decoration sink in, regretting /somewhat/ his earlier mishap. "It was her idea to see what was in th'hut, though! I jus... sorta.. found what I liked--didn' expect it t'be so volatile!" Jul 12, 2015 at 10:24 p.m.
"Just my luck, I'd run into bandits running away from your lot, " Otto mutters, still he doesn't offer any resistance. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:28 p.m.
Adyna folds her arms across her chest and stands back, letting Baf do the work. The otter camp gets another uneasy glance. She's not entirely convinced they shouldn't be moving - but doesn't look ready to blaze her own trail any time soon. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:30 p.m.
And Kevi most certainly isn't about being tied up by the ermine without prior arrangement. She spins around and takes the bucket off her head, "What.. are. You..." She backs away from the mustelid duo back toward the foxes and cat. "And I thought I could trust you ladies, hmmph!" She pads deliberately toward her brother, crowning his head with the bucket. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:30 p.m.
The vixen gives her brother a wink as she goes over to Bafaloukos. "You gonna tie me up too, love?" Jul 12, 2015 at 10:36 p.m.
Bafaloukos responds to Ferilla with an appreciative nod. As the young tod begins to tremble, something like pity alights in Bafaloukos. He promptly crushes it, though; confining it to where ever old crooks put their feelings. "Tell her it's the rope or the sword," the fox frankly tells Timeon. Not a sword for Kevi, though. In an heartbeat, Bafaloukos' blade overs over Timeon. Cold yellow eyes ask the vixen to choose. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:36 p.m.
Ferilla shrugs, draping the unused rope over one shouder, getting her sword back to paw. She had something to say, but this was interesting, far more so than picking her way back to camp and a long watch. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:38 p.m.
The tod feels something land on the top of his head other than a bucket, and instantly knows what his sister has placed inside for him. He gulps, though, immediately putting it in the back of his mind as he's held at swordpoint and made to be persuasive. Not his strong suit, really. "Uh.. sis, I like me life--I know you tend t'be indiff'rent, but. FOR TOAD'S SAKE, WUD YE DO SOMMIT FER ME ONCE!" His chest heaves, he gulps again and tries to avoid the other fox's glare. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:41 p.m.
Kevi rolls her eyes, holding her paws out. "So whiny. Well as long as you're doing it, handsome, go right ahead." She sort of throws herself at Baf, really. It wouldn't have even taken the sword, and honestly that might have discouraged her just a bit. Jul 12, 2015 at 10:46 p.m.
When the vixen is finally detained, Bafaloukos marches all three closer to the fire pit. The songs of frogs and insects have replaced shouting, and the fox seems content to end all talk there. Jaksor can sort this one out. As they wend through camp, he remembers his wine, but a short search finds it gone. He blames it on a ghost. Jul 12, 2015 at 11:04 p.m.
Ferilla goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 13, 2015 at 8:50 a.m.
Ferilla goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 13, 2015 at 9:14 a.m.
Coaxoch goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 13, 2015 at 10:43 a.m.
Jaksor goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 13, 2015 at 11:06 a.m.
Jaksor goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 13, 2015 at 11:08 a.m.
Everyone does everything. It's a fuster cluck. Jul 13, 2015 at 11:16 a.m.
Coaxoch goes In Character. Jul 13, 2015 at 11:35 a.m.
John_Wesley waves to Timeon. "Zombies gotta stick together." Jul 13, 2015 at 11:40 a.m.
Bindi goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 13, 2015 at 12:03 p.m.
Jaksor goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 13, 2015 at 12:07 p.m.
Jaksor goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 13, 2015 at 12:10 p.m.
Bafaloukos goes Idle. Jul 13, 2015 at 1:22 p.m.
Vannon heads off. Jul 13, 2015 at 2:27 p.m.
Vannon enters from afar. Jul 13, 2015 at 2:27 p.m.
Vannon leaves with: Coaxoch, Bindi Jul 13, 2015 at 2:27 p.m.
Otto heads east. Jul 13, 2015 at 6:12 p.m.
The Guosim camp is how it has been for the last several days. The vermin squatters have made themselves somewhat at home, variously fixing up and burning down (and blowing up) the little huts left by the shrews. Most are elsewhere, as fate would have it, off trying to fence some more of the loot from the heist on Ferravale. Jaksor has remained with John Wesley to keep an eye on the campsite and to hold down the fort until the rest of the crew returns. The polecat himself is lounging under a piece of canvas while John Wesley fidgets about with his cleaver, practicing his moves on the Log-a-log's pulpit. Jul 14, 2015 at 4:24 p.m.
A day's relaxation on his belly in the shade has told Coaxoch more or less everything he needs to know about the beasts who live in the camp. Who knew that following that little cowardly rat back home would lead him to such a place? He'd expected soft beasts everywhere, weak things that can be killed and robbed, or at least used to bolster Coaxoch's rations. But instead, it seems that he lives amongst a band of raiders! The lizard was excited enough that he found it difficult to wait until a large group of them left to do something presumably interesting, but now that he has his chance, he stands from his hiding spot and walks towards the camp. Macuahuitl balanced on his shoulder, Coaxoch strides boldly into the camp, chin high, as if he owns the place. Jul 14, 2015 at 4:29 p.m.
Glancing up from his own spot in the shade, Jaksor sees none other than an enormous monitor lizard brandishing some sort of sharpened club. His remaining paw quickly slithers out to grab his scimitar, getting to his feet and eying the newcomer warily. "Where y' come fr'm then, y' big scaly-'ide?" The polecat doesn't have much experience with the.... scalier race, and nicknames nearly dessert him. "This is our camp, like as y' may've guessed." His hook gleams dully at his side. Jul 14, 2015 at 4:34 p.m.
*imposing frilled lizard Jul 14, 2015 at 4:35 p.m.
John_Wesley doesn't contribute much to the conversation, too busy staring in awe at the lizard. It may be the first like it that the weasel has ever seen. Jul 14, 2015 at 4:36 p.m.
The lizard keeps his weapon on his shoulder, not lowering it into an actual fighting stance even as the polecat unsheaths his scimitar. Coming to a stop a distance enough away from Jaksor as to make hitting him require a full-out lunge, Coaxoch rests his free hand on his hip and stares fixedly with those reptile eyes. He speaks haltingly, as though there's a pause after every word, his accent naturally bearing the rasp of his species, though at the very least he seems to be able to form words correctly. "Coaxoch travel far. Ssseek new land, new people. Own back in land ruled by bird-on-ssstiltsss too cowardly. Ssstripe-weasssel'sss people bold?" Jul 14, 2015 at 4:54 p.m.
That scimitar hangs from a deft paw, not raised in any gesture of threat. "Bold enough," Jaksor grunts, standing his ground but relaxing somewhat. His tail's agitated movement behind him slows to a listless stirring. " Jul 14, 2015 at 5 p.m.
That scimitar hangs from a deft paw, not raised in any gesture of threat. "Bold enough," Jaksor grunts, standing his ground but relaxing somewhat. His tail's agitated movement behind him slows to a listless stirring. "Not sure as y'll fit in with this lot, though," he returns, spreading his paws to indicate the camp about him, and, indirectly, John Wesley. "Not nearly as scaly. Might not share y'r particular... sensibilities." You have to be realistic about these things. Jul 14, 2015 at 5:01 p.m.
At the very least there's not going to be any attempts to chop him up to get rid of him. That would have been just a little TOO bold for Coaxoch. There comes a shrug from the lizard at the assertion that he won't fit in. "Coaxoch not fit in with beassstsss of own kind." The more complicated word appears to be a bit of a snag for him. "Sssensssbiltiesss? What isss that?" Jul 14, 2015 at 5:07 p.m.
"Taste," Jaksor spits, by means of explanation. Preferences? Lifestyle? These are probably all foreign to the lizard as well, although taste is certainly open to misinterpretation as well. "You come alone, then? No band'a lizard warriors comin' over that rise behind you t' take us by storm?" The polecat's blade points vaguely the way the lizard came, haphazardly including most of Mossflower with his wave. Jul 14, 2015 at 5:13 p.m.
"John Wesley Weasel norra-'fraid of lizards," the weasel notes from the sidelines, chopping into the pulpit for emphasis. "John Wesley kill'em all!" His enthusiasm is dampened by a glare from Jaksor, however, and the smallest of the trio falls silent. Jul 14, 2015 at 5:16 p.m.
Oh! Taste! And here's where Coaxoch perhaps reveals more than he should. "Oh! Tassste! No, Coaxoch promissse not eat." His head flicks towards the direction that Jaksor is indicating with his scimitar, then gives a slower shake of his head. "No. Coaxoch alone. Lizards back home not warriorsss, not huntersss. Are food for bird-on-ssstiltsss. Are prey." John Wesley's sudden outburst attracts another flick of Coaxoch's head, and a narrowing of the lizard's eyes. He looks back to Jaksor and asks, "That one not for eating... yesss?" Jul 14, 2015 at 5:18 p.m.
Jaksor scratches his chin thoughtfully with the point of his hook, eyes staring distantly at the ground at Coaxoch's feet while he weighs the pros and cons of having a lizard around the camp. John Wesley menaces the distant lizard with his clever, but makes no effort to move closer, barking out "You norra eat John Wesley! John Wesley eats you!" before Jaksor's glare silences him again. The polecat nods slowly, his hook bracing against his hipbone. "Alrigh'. Y'c'n stay with us, lizard. But y' can't eat any of us," - goes without saying, really - "an' none of our prisoners 'less I say so." Jul 14, 2015 at 5:27 p.m.
A nod from Coaxoch almost immediately. It's more or less what he expected... though that one that keeps calling itself "John Wesley" would be rather tempting, if only to get the shrill thing to be quiet. "Deal. Coaxoch know not to eat own kind, and not eat prisssonersss unlesss sssay ssso. Eat own killsss though, if wisssh." Now that the deal is made, Coaxoch lets his eyes leave Jaksor for longer than a second or two and takes the opportunity to look around the camp, no doubt trying to pick out where he wants his new home to be. Jul 14, 2015 at 5:30 p.m.
"Don't get too attached," Jaksor notes, although it's not immediately clear whether he's referring to the camp or John Wesley. Jul 14, 2015 at 5:31 p.m.
Kevi enters the infirmary. Jul 14, 2015 at 6:33 p.m.
Kevi steps inside. Jul 14, 2015 at 6:33 p.m.
Kevi heads east. Jul 14, 2015 at 6:34 p.m.
Kevi arrives with: Twitchtail Jul 14, 2015 at 6:42 p.m.
Twitchtail leaves Kevi's group and wanders off on her own. Jul 14, 2015 at 7:17 p.m.
Otto says, "Which its why its annoying we haven't used other data sources earlier. " Jul 14, 2015 at 7:27 p.m.
Ferilla goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 15, 2015 at 7:06 a.m.
There's not much that's happened yet... but Coaxoch figures that it'll take more than a day to get some real entertainment. He only hopes that this gang he's joined does more than just talk tough. After all, he'd left Marshwood Hill to escape from weak beasts, not to just relocate amongst a different set. He shrugs to himself, staring into the campfire, relaxing the best way he knows how... with a mug of some dark liquid that's got a distinctly bitter and caustic smell. Sure it used up a lot of his supplies from home, but they were meant to be enjoyed. Jul 15, 2015 at 1:35 p.m.
Like a boomerang that can not be thrown far enough Vannon returns to the camp. He comes strolling into the old shrew vilalge with a smug expression and a smile on his lips. With more food to keep his belly full the fox has started to slowly grow...healthier. His ribs still show a little but at least he doesn't look like a scrawny toothpick any more. Jul 15, 2015 at 1:42 p.m.
The fox has also ditched his loin cloth. Thankfully in favor of something else. He strides into camp wearing a red cloth vest over a black tunic and a pair of red trousers. All of which look at least three sizes too large for the fox. Nothing a bit of sewing wont fix he tells himself. Or maybe he will take the easy rout and just feed himself until they fit. He laughsat the last option. "Hey guyYyYyyYYyYyYs! I'm baAAAAA- ACK!" The last word of the sentence quickly turns into a sort of half gasp half yelp as he stares, dumfounded at the lizard by the camp ifre. Jul 15, 2015 at 1:42 p.m.
The announcement of Vannon's presence makes Coaxoch's head flick towards him, the reptile's cold eyes regarding him, unblinking. With a mile-long stare like that, it's no small wonder that most beasts are put off by his species, but Coaxoch seems blissfully unaware of the effects of doing such things. Nor does he seem to put much concern over the fox's feelings about him lifting a strip of absolutely bizarre looking dried meat to his mouth and tearing off a strip. Coaxoch smacks loudly as he waits for the fox to either say something more than just scream at him, then washes it down with a hefty draught from his mug of steaming whatever the hellgates it is. Jul 15, 2015 at 1:49 p.m.
Lizards. Why did it have to be lizards? Kydo Vannon has had the...unique experience to be a family cursed by lizards, and snakes, and other fox eating beasts. Oh how many of his kin have met their ends at their terrible stew pots, or turned into a rug. Seeing one here so suddenly has taken him aback. But maybe...maybe its friendly? The fox thinks on this, where does he think he is? Either the lizard was hired by his employer, ate and killed his gang, or his gang decided to pack up and move while he was gone and the lizard just happen to be here. Jul 15, 2015 at 1:55 p.m.
Wouldn't be the first time... Jul 15, 2015 at 1:55 p.m.
The fox gulps, gripping his backpack even tighter, "Well...somethin NEW has been added..." Jul 15, 2015 at 1:55 p.m.
On the other hand, Coaxoch has very little of an opinion on foxes. He hasn't even know if they taste good yet! But not only has his new leader been very clear on what is and is not food, it's a waste to kill and eat another in the same tribe besides. No, he'll keep his stomach sated with the stock of food he'd built up during his travels. Of course... this fox could be prey. He seems like the type to run rather than fight, and doesn't look like he'd be much good at defending himself if he did stand his ground. Still, not food. Yet. Coaxoch doesn't nod in response to the statement, but rather just lets out a simple, "Yesss. New." before scooting over on the log he'd parked himself on, thumping the spot next to him with his tail. "Sssit." Clearly he's made the mistake of thinking that Vannon wants to share the fire. Jul 15, 2015 at 1:59 p.m.
The fox gulps. If he runs, will the lizard chase? IF he fights, can he beat him? Is he just being nice or just getting him closer to bite into his delicious foxy meats. Well, at least Vannon will be well dressed if they have to bury him. Jul 15, 2015 at 2:14 p.m.
Shyly the fox trots over, gingerly sitting on the log, about as far from the beast as he can with out falling off of it. "S-so..." He swollows, getting his barings strait, "So you are the new guy then? These people are multiplying like rabbits! Everytime I come here there is some new beast waiting to be met, ya know?" The fox rambles on, laughing nervously at his own joke, "So how long have you been here...in the gang I mean?" Jul 15, 2015 at 2:14 p.m.
Coaxoch's face is impassive, just like most reptiles, but in his head he's wondering just what seems to be troubling this fox so much. Does he not realize that if he fears for his life he could stab Coaxoch and that would be the end of it? Why worry if someone else will harm you when they themselves can be killed in turn? He can only hope that the fox won't choke in such a manner when it's time for the band of beasts to put others to the sword. "Yesss. Coaxoch join yesssterday." Every time he hits an 's' sound Coaxoch flicks his tongue out. "Wanted to find beassstsss not weak. Think found what Coaxoch wasss looking for." Tilting his head quizzically, the lizard asks point blank. "You weak? You fear me?" Jul 15, 2015 at 2:21 p.m.
The fox let's loose a torrent of laughter, "Me? Fear you? Pffft, yeah, no, not at all. Maybe i fear your smell is all, right?" The fox laughs, jabbing the lizard in the arm with his elbow, "Er...not to say you actually stink. You're sent is quite nice, very, um...deathly, full of..." the fox sniffs the air, "Meaty lizardness...and...um..." He poitns to the fire in an effort to change topics with out putting his foot in his mouth, "Are you cooking anything?" Jul 15, 2015 at 2:25 p.m.
Apparently jabs to the arm aren't something that Coaxoch's culture is familiar with, because shortly after the jab he aims a punch at Vannon's arm, a purely retalliatory thing that he immediately forgets. Blows were exchanged, time to move on. The babbling is... harder to follow. It reminds Coaxoch of attempts to bargain for one's life, but without any of the situation that would make such things make sense. "Ssstop talking fassst, fox." The lizard shakes his head; he'd finished cooking his drink a while ago, and the meat he has with him is dried. Reaching into his satchel, he pulls out a slice of it and holds it out to the fox. "Done cooking. Eat. Good meat." Jul 15, 2015 at 2:32 p.m.
The fox cringes and holds back a yelp as he bends forward, clutching his arm. "Don't...talk...fast. Duly noted." Vannon leans back, eyes fixated on the meat. That isn't bird meat, or fish. That is real grade A meat. Coming from a lizard. He doesn't want to sterotype but, there is a distinct possiblity that he may become a canable if he eats it...or maybe the lizard is fattening him up for a later meal. Jul 15, 2015 at 2:36 p.m.
Either way, its free food so he decides to take it, if nothing else to avoid offending the beast. He gulps again, taking the meat and tenitivly taking a bite out of it. Jul 15, 2015 at 2:36 p.m.
And now Coaxoch knows that the fox cannot take a punch worth anything. Well, his new leader said that he couldn't eat any of his companions, but there was no rule that said that Coaxoch would have to stand anywhere near the fox during a fight. This beast was the last one he wanted to watch his back. Indeed the meat does look strange. The color is off, and it doesn't seem the right shape to have been peeled from a bird or a fish. At the very least the fox isn't wasting the food. Coaxoch watches the fox eat while sipping from his mug. "Meat good, yesss?" Jul 15, 2015 at 2:40 p.m.
The fox chews into the food and swollows it down. Rubbing at his tummy with a content smile the fox replies, "You know, that's not bad! Did they hire you as a chef? Cause if they did, you are my new best freind." That is where Vannon should have left it. He should have said no more, but the fox decided to tempt fate by asking, "What was it made of?" Jul 15, 2015 at 2:42 p.m.
The source of the food is of no mind to Coaxoch, and as a result his response of "Mousssemaid. Dried with ssspicesss." doesn't bother him in the least, the lizard talking rather casually about the sentient, happy beast he chopped up for his meal. "Tassstesss good, yesss? Wasssn't too plump, but wasss sssoft from no work." Jul 15, 2015 at 2:47 p.m.
Vannon twitches an eye. He just ate a woodlander. IT takes a moment for that to fully process in his mind. It's not un common really, after all vermin are built to eat meat. But to actually practice eating a sentient beast. A living breathing mouse with a family and friends...that was...that was... Jul 15, 2015 at 2:52 p.m.
Unexpectedly delicious. Jul 15, 2015 at 2:52 p.m.
The fox feels bad about it but, he leans forward, tail twitching excitedly, "I don't suppose you have another?" Jul 15, 2015 at 2:52 p.m.
Jaksor goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 16, 2015 at 10:36 a.m.
Jaksor goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 16, 2015 at 10:45 a.m.
Ferilla goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 16, 2015 at 11:25 a.m.
Ferilla goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 16, 2015 at 11:44 a.m.
Jaksor enters the infirmary. Jul 16, 2015 at 12:50 p.m.
Jaksor steps inside. Jul 16, 2015 at 12:50 p.m.
Jaksor heads east. Jul 16, 2015 at 12:50 p.m.
Jaksor heads east. Jul 16, 2015 at 12:53 p.m.
Jaksor leaves with: Ferilla, Coaxoch, John_Wesley, Vannon Jul 16, 2015 at 12:53 p.m.
Riverdale vanishes with a big yawn into the land of Insomnia! Jul 16, 2015 at 2:18 p.m.
Riverdale arrives with a large yawn. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:18 p.m.
Timeon heads west. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:20 p.m.
Timeon emerges from the east. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:20 p.m.
Bafaloukos heads west. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:20 p.m.
Bafaloukos emerges from the east. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:20 p.m.
Otto heads west. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:20 p.m.
Otto emerges from the east. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:20 p.m.
Bafaloukos heads east. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:22 p.m.
Timeon heads east. Jul 16, 2015 at 2:23 p.m.
Bafaloukos enters Log-a-Log's tent. Jul 16, 2015 at 6:34 p.m.
Bafaloukos heads east. Jul 17, 2015 at 11:09 a.m.
Bafaloukos emerges from the west. Jul 17, 2015 at 11:09 a.m.
Timeon goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 19, 2015 at 5:47 p.m.
Bafaloukos goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 19, 2015 at 5:47 p.m.
It has not been an easy week for Timeon. All he did was blow up one little hut, and now he's being watched all the time. It's not fair. Not like anyone got hurt. Why him, and not his sister Kevi? This is more or less the content of the teenage fox's mutterings, though to untrained ears, it sounds like a continuous stream of curses and dark speculations on the nature of justice. "Bloody unfair," he says (among other things). He squats under the hot sun, which is at last beginning its recession behind the treeline, and sweats. He holds in one paw a hammer that looks ludicrously large next to his scrawny arm. The other paw he plants on the ground beside him, to steady himself against the wobbles that accompany each swing of the hammer. Jul 19, 2015 at 5:57 p.m.
Bafaloukos is as thrilled to be apart of this as the grousing youth, but not nearly as vocal. Not far from Timeon, the older fox is packing earth around the base of a tall upright log. Pale green lacerations in the bark betray the thing as freshly felled... with a blunt axe and little skill. Leaning back on his haunches, Bafaloukos tries to wipe clay from his hands. The late afternoon heat has already begun to bake it into his fur, though, making his effort futile. As it dries, it pulls painfully at tufts of his fur, which truly does nothing to help his mood. Jul 19, 2015 at 6:09 p.m.
"What's it for, anyways?" Timeon asks, looking up at his unwilling babysitter. He lets the hammer fall to the ground, and his arm goes slack. "Or do they not tell you, either?" He attempts to hoist the hammer again, but its mass pulls back on him with equal and opposite force. He falls back on his haunches. "Toads," he says, panting. Jul 19, 2015 at 6:15 p.m.
:closes his tired gold eyes as the younger fox accosts him with yet another volley of questions. This is far from the first inquisition of the afternoon. Most queries have been met with a curt word, a sharp look, or simply nothing at all, but for the first time all day, Bafaloukos answers in full sentence: "Jaksor wants a proper guest house for any future... visitors. We've come up short on huts for some reason." When he finishes, the old fox just stares emptily at Timeon. Jul 19, 2015 at 6:24 p.m.
Bafaloukos closes his tired gold eyes as the younger fox accosts him with yet another volley of questions. This is far from the first inquisition of the afternoon. Most queries have been met with a curt word, a sharp look, or simply nothing at all, but for the first time all day, Bafaloukos answers in full sentence: "Jaksor wants a proper guest house for any future... visitors. We've come up short on huts for some reason." When he finishes, the old fox just stares emptily at Timeon. Jul 19, 2015 at 6:24 p.m.
Timeon snarls, but the sweat and dirt have arranged the fur around his eyes in such a way that the look is comic rather than menacing. "No bloody imagination," he says. "All week, I can't even use the pit without you following me." He hefts the hammer to shoulder height, then flings it weakly with a twist of his back. The head chinks loudly against the head of a stake, and it sinks the rest of the way into the earth. "And always about the hut. You could use my skills. Think a what I could do the Abbey. Boom! Kschhphhht!" He wipes his face, which would leave a mark if it weren't already coated in mud. Jul 19, 2015 at 6:36 p.m.
The sound of nocturnal insects starts to ring from the flora around camp, lazily calling for the moon. Their dirge is soft at first, a choir comprising a few crickets. But soon the hooting of an owl encourages them, and the forest explodes with the noise of a thousand tiny arias. Bafaloukos digests the complaints of the younger fox, without breaking that vacant, vaguely hateful stare. "Those 'skills' of yours almost burned up the camp and got you and your sister killed. Driving spikes suits you much better for now." He hefts himself to his feat, headed for a rucksack among a nearby heap of tools. Jul 19, 2015 at 6:52 p.m.
"Whatever," Timeon mutters. He looks down and scrapes the hammer along the ground ineffectually. "One mistake," he says, so quietly that he can't be heard over the slow crescendo of the evening chorus. After a pause of a minute or so, the young fox rises and follows Bafaloukos, though he keeps his distance. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:01 p.m.
Bafaloukos crouches to plunge his hand into the the bag, leather abraded and soft with long use. From it he produces a cloudy green bottle, and removes its cork with his teeth. He spits the cork over his shoulder, in the general direction of Timeon, then turns away to pull a drink. "You really expect us to trust some mangey pup who claims to be able to raze ancient castles with fire?" There is skepticism in his gravelly voice, as if Bafaloukos still doubts that Timeon was capable of such sorcery. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:08 p.m.
"Bloody right, I do," Timeon musters some boldness. He steps forward. For a moment, he catches the last light of the sinking sun square in the face. He squints, and the scar tissue on his muzzle tightens. He doesn't look quite so comical now. "And I'll show you, too." His air of confidence flags briefly, then he holds out a paw for the bottle. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:13 p.m.
A shadow detaches itself from the gloom beside one of the hovels and saunters forth, inaudible against the insects, until it resolves into a familiar, ornery stoat with a bottle in her hand. She raises it to Bafaloukos in something that might pass for a salute, if one doesn't look too close. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:14 p.m.
Planting his rump in the dirt with a fatigued breath, Bafaloukos surveys their work. It is clear that the foxes were chosen for this task as punishment, not for their talent as architects. Shabbily hewn logs strew the area, along with rope and heavy iron nails and stones. For all their hours of work, the two were able to plant three corner posts and construct a prison wall that looks very likely to collapse if sneezed upon. "It isn't me you've need to convince. You think I *enjoy* being your shepherd?" He deliberates for a minute, then relinqishes the bottle to Timeon's outstretched hand. "Careful." When Adyna arrives, the old fox nods a miserable hello. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:23 p.m.
Timeon presses the bottle to his lips. His eyes fix on Adyna, not exactly amicable, then he tosses back his head for a manly draft. Almost instantly, his head flies forward again. He flings the bottle away and spits out more than half of his overly ambitious swig. He coughs a few times. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:33 p.m.
Adyna watches the younger fox as he splutters out remains of the manly draft before she shakes her head at Bafaloukos, clearly unimpressed. Cough. Clear throat. "Who's that snippet?" she asks, after a moment, in a voice still unacquainted with talk. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:38 p.m.
Bafaloukos's hands are clumsy, heavy with hardened clay. He glares at them in abject frustration, patiently waiting for the warmth of the bottled lightning to wash over him. It does, but not as planned. When his Timeon chokes on the hooch, a tepid mist of spit and alcohol soaks the old fox. "A dead beast." The threat appears to be empty, though. Bafaloukos rubs at his face and shirt with stony gloves, before moving to collect the discarded bottle. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:49 p.m.
Timeon recovers his composure, but his swagger is nowhere to be found. He seems to shrink, and Bafa's threat, though empty, is enough to silence him, at least for the moment. He drifts back to retrieve the hammer from the ground. Jul 19, 2015 at 7:56 p.m.
Adyna watches Timeon for a few moments longer -- but she keeps any further thoughts on that subject to herself, quietly seating herself on a nearby log to reacquaint herself with her bottle and every once in a while uneasily scan the darkened horizon. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:02 p.m.
When Bafaloukos secures the bottle Timeon chucked, he gives its contents a swirl to inspect the weight of the damage. Much is lost to the earth, but there might be enough for the night. He greedily gulps two quick chugs, follows Timeon with his eyes, and then shakes his silvery old head. "Chin up, pup," the tod calls after Timeon. "You'll grow a stomach one day." The booze has mitigated his foul mood a bit. "Any plans for the evening?" he asks Adyna. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:09 p.m.
The young fox, suddenly shy, takes the opportunity to slink away. It's been a long day. And if the past week has been any indication, tomorrow promises to be just as long, and just as hot, and just as exhausting. But most importantly tomorrow will give him another crack at proving himself. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:16 p.m.
Timeon trips and faceplants. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:20 p.m.
Adyna shakes her head, from half a mile away. The jill rarely seems to have plans further than the next bottle of something. With Timeon gone she's starting to drift off into an alcoholic trance with glassy eyes staring off into the dark. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:27 p.m.
Bafaloukos continues to watch the young fox as he retires. Due to the contagious nature of humiliation, he jerks in a weak wince when Timeon takes a tumble. "Suppose the nice thing about making a beast work in the sun all day is that he ain't likely to run." The old tod sinks to the log beside the stoat, and wags his bottle for a friendly clink against hers. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:32 p.m.
The clink seems to bring Adyna's mind back from whatever gloomy place it's slipped - assisted by a torch lighting up elsewhere in the camp. Presently she takes another sip of unknown and unnameable spirits and looks down at Bafa. The look on her face says her train of thought is on another line, in a different country. Jul 19, 2015 at 8:42 p.m.
Bafaloukos has known Adyna long enough to recognize that look. He offers her half of a smile, but lapses into silence for a while. By now night has found the camp. The white glow of the moon peaks over the forest canopy, flanked by a hazy corona that hints at future rain. Fireflies inspect the ramshackle jail that he and Timeon left quasi-constructed. "I'd say the two of us should split, but I don't doubt we have prices on our heads now... from the river south to the town, at least." Jul 19, 2015 at 8:54 p.m.
"/They/ do," Adyna replies, distantly, cradling the bottle and gazing off at the treeline. "Weren't I in that stunt. Weren't you neither, 'less ye were." Jul 19, 2015 at 9 p.m.
Bafaloukos slumps forward, resting his chin in his palm, elbow supported by a knee. He wonders if he owes the stoat an apology. After all, Bafaloukos had goaded her into coming along. She could be contentedly drunk in a back alley of Ferravale right now. No bounty. No hostile otter vigilantes. But, no; the spirits promised him gold. They *wanted* him here, and Adyna too. Who was he to question their designs? "Well, we don't want the polecat gunning for us, either," he says in excuse. Jul 19, 2015 at 9:16 p.m.
"Wouldnae follow, would 'e, 'less ye took somethin'," the stoat guesses, illustrating her point with a wave of her bottle. "More'n ye an' I in this camp." Jul 19, 2015 at 9:23 p.m.
Bafaloukos wags the mouth of the bottle at her, objecting. "I'm not so sure. We have knowledge of the camp, so we're a threat as soon as we leave it." He pauses to bring the hooch in for a swig. His nose wrinkles and lips smack as the foul stuff burns its way down his gullet. "Things have changed. Few beasts are going to traipse half way through the forest to recover a few sacks of gold and trinkets, but... now that they've stolen the pup." A gesture indicates the old lodge where the squalling otter is being held. "They'll be actively searching for us." Jul 19, 2015 at 9:40 p.m.
Ah, yes... that. The jill doesn't keep up with current events nowadays. "Who'd they see takin' it?" Jul 19, 2015 at 9:43 p.m.
Bafaloukos's ear flits at her question. He does not answer right away, because the booze is at his mouth again. The angle at which he tilts it says the thing is empty. "Does it matter?" he asks. Adjusting his grip on the neck of the bottle, the old fox suddenly hurls it at the slipshod prison wall a few meters from them. His face alights in momentary delight when the thing actually hits the wall, but joy withers all at once when something creaks. A series of pops follow in quick sequence, and then as the fruit of Timeon and his drudgery folds into a pile rubble. Jul 19, 2015 at 9:53 p.m.
Ferilla heads off. Jul 20, 2015 at 6:35 p.m.
Ferilla enters from afar. Jul 20, 2015 at 6:35 p.m.
Jaksor goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 22, 2015 at 11:07 a.m.
Jaksor goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:07 p.m.
Jaksor goes Away From Keyboard. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:11 p.m.
Jaksor goes into Dynamic Role-play. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:34 p.m.
Bindi arrives with: Sergio Jul 22, 2015 at 12:40 p.m.
Jaksor heads east. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:48 p.m.
Jaksor emerges from the west. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:48 p.m.
Nenuphar goes Out Of Character. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:49 p.m.
Nenuphar enters Log-a-Log's tent. Jul 22, 2015 at 12:49 p.m.
The once sunny and mostly cheerful GUISOM camp has been reduced to a muddy sludge. And it would seem it's not leaving anytime soon as rain continues to dump from an angry sky. Bindi has been most unfortunate in being caught out in the storm, as he travels back to camp from his short vacation, of sorts. Except it was more of a strange, out-of-the-pot-and-into-the-fire kind of vacation. In any case, he now breaks through the treeline and into the GUISOM camp, his fur and clothing hanging off of him like so much baggage. From behind him, a small weedling voice calls out, "Oy, wait up!" Jul 22, 2015 at 1:02 p.m.
Sludge? Rain? Pfft. Coaxoch spent most of his life in those conditions, and sees no valid reason to go inside! Naturally he's put away all his clothes but his loincloth, but the lizard is enjoying a chance to bask in the cool water rather than slowly baking in the summer's heat for a change. As ever, he's chewing on something suspicious looking, when all of a sudden he hears a voice crying out. His head snaps in that direction and catches sight of a rapidly approaching rat who looks... extremely familiar. Ah, of course! It's the prey-rat he met at the tavern! Jul 22, 2015 at 1:05 p.m.
Sludge? Rain? Ech. Jaksor is lounging under the eaves of the Log-a-Log's tent, patchy canvas not going nearly far enough in stopping the damp from affecting his spirits and complexion. Likewise, he glances up as a call filters through the falling drops, pulling a rough poncho of waxed canvas over his head and emerging to see what's happening. Jul 22, 2015 at 1:15 p.m.
Bindi grits his teeth at the sound of the voice behind him and shouts over his shoulder, "Go back 'ome, kid! Yew can't come 'wit me!" His voice is tired, as if he's said this many times before. The weedly voice replies, quite a bit whiner than before, "But BindiiiIIII! I wanna go on adventures and steal stuff and-" The voice is cut off abruptly and a wet /splat/ can be heard over the sound of the rain. Presumably the owner of the voice has tripped. Bindi rolls his eyes skyward in thanks, then hurries further into camp, stopping sharply as his eyes fall on the lizard, sitting happily in the rain, "Wha'? Lizard lips?! How'd yew get 'ere?" Jul 22, 2015 at 1:24 p.m.
Oh already Coaxoch can tell that Bindi has brought along something that he's going to want to forcefully shut up, and probably something that's even more likely to be eaten than Bindi himself. Perfectly reclined, the lizard doesn't even bother moving a single part of his body except for his head and the hand he's using to stuff dried meat into his mouth. He doesn't stop either as he addresses the rat, speaking through a mouth of heavens-knows-what. "Coaxoch follow. Stay after rat leave. Found new home." As usual he keeps up the staring contest, looking at the rat with his ugly reptillian eyes. Jul 22, 2015 at 1:28 p.m.
"Scale-tail's with us now," Jaksor notes, by with of explanation with a pointed look at Bindi. So that's how the lizard found them. His brow furrows further, giving the rain a conduit to run down, as he lifts his head to look past the rat. "Who's y'r floppy friend?" Jul 22, 2015 at 1:30 p.m.
Bindi scowls, "Found a 'ome, eh? And by who's order was tha'?" His question is soon answered by the appearance of Jaksor, whom he had failed to notice before. The little rat shrugs and gives his boss a perplexed look, "You sure 'at's wise, boss? He's a...a...." He fails to find the word he's looking for and settles for, "That. Is 'e even safe?" Speaking of the floppy friend, out of the bushes emerges a small rat, who can't be much older then thirteen seasons. His front is coated in mud and he stands a good few inches above Bindi, but then again so does everybody, "Ey, is this tha' place, Bindi?" He glances around with wide eyes, then catches sight of Coaxoch, "Woah." Is all he manages to say. Bindi gives Jaksor an apologetic look, "I couldn't stop 'em from following me." Jul 22, 2015 at 1:44 p.m.
Giving a shrug as if to imply that he would have tried to stay even if he hadn't gotten permission, Coaxoch adds nothing after Jaksor appears and vouches for him. When Bindi shows some apprehension about him, Coaxoch rather playfully makes it worse by showing some absolutely glistening white teeth... some of which have chunks of meat still stuck in them from his meal. "Lizard," hisses Coaxoch, finishing Bindi's sentence for him. Now that there's more than one beast around him, and having had his temperature cooled by the rain, Coaxoch languidly slips to his feet, standing at his full height to look over the new beast. Seemingly thinking that he hasn't caused Bindi enough trouble, or perhaps just not being clever enough to know when he should lie, Coaxoch adds 'helpfully', "He couldn't becaussse he didn't sssee Coaxoch follow." Jul 22, 2015 at 1:53 p.m.
Bafaloukos goes Idle. Jul 22, 2015 at 2 p.m.
Jaksor shrugs under the canvas poncho, a gesture which loses much of its impact when covered by the shapeless mass of wet fabric. "Couldn' see a good reason why a dirty great lizard would be a /bad/ thing t' 'ave around," the polecat explains, wiping his hook uselessly against his leg. "Seems y've got a habit of drawin' in new hangers-on." Jul 22, 2015 at 2:01 p.m.
Bindi glares at Coaxoch, realizing for the first time that it would, technically, be his fault for the lizard's presence here. He shakes his head and tries to discount the reptile's words, "An' the reason yew followed me was ta wait 'till I stopped for the night, then eat me, no doubt! " He turns to Jaksor, " e's just not safe. An' findin' stragglers is a talent o' mine. Mebbe in time this whole band 'll be a hoard, thanks to me" He grins jokingly, hoping to ease his boss's mood. Jul 22, 2015 at 2:25 p.m.
Deadly serious, Coaxoch replies to Bindi more honestly than most would like to hear. "Yesss. That'sss right." Is he joking? Lizard faces tend to be too static and devoid of expression a majority of the time to say for certain. Regardless, Coaxoch isn't smiling and he doesn't seem to be kidding around, and of course everyone in the camp likely already knows what his preferences concerning food are. He's done more than enough griping about wanting a slice of the otter they have held captive... "Sssafe beassstsss make poor fightersss. Sssafe beassstsss weak!" Jul 22, 2015 at 2:34 p.m.
And therein lies the reasoning for keeping Coaxoch around. Jaksor nods at the lizard's statement. "Couldn't 'ave said it better myself. Any one of you lot is unwise t' 'ave around, if we're bein' realistic." His paw rises, the thumb sticking up. "Lizard. Could eat you." A finger springs up. "Bindi. Stinks. Brings unwanted guests. Might shiv you f'r y'r clothes." Another. "Vannon. Shoots arrows at random." And another. "John. Stupid as blazes." Another. "Bafaloukos. Hard name. Who knows what kinda trouble will come lookin' f'r him." He's run out of fingers. "Get my point?" Jul 22, 2015 at 2:45 p.m.
Bindi's companion let's lose an audible gasp of horror and says in a whisper, "You would /EAT/ Bindi?" It's hard to tell if the horror in his voice is because the idea of cannibalism is so grusome, or if it's simply and adverse reaction to the thought of eatting Bindi in his current state of hygiene. Bindi huffs and shakes his head, starting to use his own fingers, "Aye, but" Thumb goes up, "Lizard 'll eat you and everybody else." He holds up his pinky, "Bindi'll bring potential allies right ta' the front door, an smells better 'an a peach pie now tha' it's rained." Up goes two fingers, "At least Vannon can shoot. An' I dunno who John is, but 'e knows loads a things 'bout healin' an the like." At this point it's very likely the little rat is simply arguing for the sound of his own voice. Jul 22, 2015 at 3 p.m.
Thoroughly unperturbed by the smaller rat's shock, Coaxoch gives a quick bob of his head. "Yesss. And you if could. Leader sssaysss not allowed though." And that's that. Clearly the lizard has no opposition to simply laying things out and making it clear who he has and hasn't thought of chewing on at some point. Bindi's small, the rat he decided to tow along after him is even smaller. Why wouldn't they be prey? It just makes sense. Perhaps mockingly, Coaxoch raises his own hand and follows along as Bindi counts on his fingers, the lizard flicking out his tongue every time the rat makes a point about something. Jul 22, 2015 at 3:08 p.m.
"You got a bone t' pick with th' lizard, y' c'n take it up with 'im," Jaksor announces, turning back to the tent in a whirl of poncho. "But th' lizard is stayin'." With that, he ducks back under the low shelter. Jul 22, 2015 at 3:09 p.m.
Bindi scowls at Jaksor's back as he disappears into the tent. That went well! He turns back to Coaxoch with a stormy scowl, "I 'uppose you're in, then." He gives a mock bow, "Welcome ta the team, lizard lips. Speakin' o' which, do ya' 'ave a real name?" Not that he'll actually use a name, but it's worth knowing. Jul 22, 2015 at 3:33 p.m.
Oh, so it's to be nicknames is it? Fine then, Coaxoch can play along with that just fine! "Name Coaxoch. What your name, Food?" The lizard punctuates this question with a long, slow dragging of his tongue along his lips, then flicking it inches from Bindi's face just to make sure that the gesture is as creepy as possible. Jul 22, 2015 at 3:37 p.m.
Bindi gives a disgusted grunt and steps away from the lizard, "Agh, get your toung away from me, lizard lips!" Ah, it would seem the name shall not be used, "And me names /Bindi/, not /food/." That seems as far as he willing to go. No use in pushing your luck with someone who may actually eat you. Jul 22, 2015 at 3:47 p.m.
Worryingly, Coaxoch just steps forwards as Bindi backs away, flicking his tongue out once more and apparently intending to entirely disregard the concepts of personal space. He continues to stare at the rat, giving him another shrug. "Food better name for rat." He points a long finger at the other rat, asking, "What'sss Sssmaller Food'sss name?" Likely another pointless question to go with all the other pointless questions that the pair are asking each other, but at the very least it shows about how nice they're willing to be with each other. Jul 22, 2015 at 3:51 p.m.
At this point, Bindi is compleatly weirded out by the lizard and his lack of bounderies, "His name ain't none of your business!" Defiance! Who cares about keeping the younger rat safe; Bindi is just glad to be able to refuse to tell the creepy lizard anything. Shoot, he wouldn't even care if the lizard decided to actually eat the other rat and rebel againts Jaksor's wishes. At least that would give the leader a reason to distrust Coaxoch. Bindi continues to back up, until he runs into his younger companion, who looks just as terrified as ever. Jul 22, 2015 at 4 p.m.
Coaxoch lets out a hiss, then tries his best to put on a smile like he'd seen other, non-reptile beasts do in the past. He thinks that he's got it right, but there's still WAY too much tooth showing to be that friendly looking. "Coaxoch find out sssomeday." He reaches out to try and ruffle the smaller rat's headfur, then turns away, going back to his spot to continue relaxing in the cool rain. Once sitting he's more or less perfectly immobile. Jul 22, 2015 at 4:07 p.m.
Bindi grimaces at the maw of teeth and turns his head away, involentarily putting up a paw between himself and the lizard. The smaller rat lets out a shriek of horror as the lizard's paw desends on his head and he bolts off into the rain, disapearing further into the camp. Bindi sighs heavly, feeling part way responsible for the younger rat, even if he is as annoying as a fly. As he starts after the younger rat, he throws one last distrusting glace towards Coaxoch, making a mental note to keep an eye on 'lizard lips'. Jul 22, 2015 at 4:13 p.m.
Bindi leaves with: Sergio Jul 23, 2015 at 7:45 p.m.
(A soucts work is never done; as soon as your sent out one way and return it isn't long before your soon sent out again in a different direction. This particular direction as had some very interesting leads indeed; just rumors and hearsay. but certainly enough to warrant attention and investigation. These current scouts are actually some abnormally tall mice decked out with chainmail, javelins, a steel rimmed round shield painted with a red sun that covers most of the body. The only large difference between the two other than their faces and color are the melee weapons. One of the mice carries a flail while the other has a short spear added to his javelins. "A few more days on this road and I think it will be high time to head back to the Abbey." Abbey? These certainly don't look like Abbey beasts.) Jul 24, 2015 at 9:40 a.m.
(A bandits work is never done. The fox figures that enough time has passed for the gang to cool down a bit, at least enough to let him slide with only a verbal lashing...instead of a literal one. Possibly, maybe. Jaksor isn't exactly the most reasonable beast. But credit where credit is due, the pole cat has put up with Vannon's personality this long with out trying to kill him...yet. So there was hope he would welcome the fox back into the gang with minimal pain to said fox.) Jul 24, 2015 at 9:53 a.m.
If nothing else Vannon was resourcefull. He spent the entire week telling tall tales in a road side tavern, earning him more than enough free drinks and food to keep his belly full and happy. Jul 24, 2015 at 9:53 a.m.
The grey fox stretches as he walks along the road before addjusting the quiver strapped to his back. Over one shoulder is slung a bow. His clothing is unfortunetly starting to show some wear and tear. The black tunic has a hole around the shoulder and the red vest is starting to fray a bit. Jul 24, 2015 at 9:53 a.m.
The Mice either haven't noticed Vannon or they don't seem particularly worried about him as they pass by the fox, rather quickly thanks to longer strides. It's hard to say however, their faces don't really give off any cues to say otherwise. The pair can be heard occasionally swapping back and forth lines of conversation as they walk. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:04 a.m.
These woods are practically swarming with vermin... actually, the count is up to two as John Wesley appears from behind a tree, apparently out on some sort of scouting mission of his own. More like a scowling mission, based on his expression and level of effectiveness at, well, any task, really. The weasel catches sight of the fox first, not having seen the mice pass by him. "/YOU!/" The shrill shout pierces through the veil of woodland chatter. "YOU shoot John Wesley Weasel! Norra da streamdogs! /You/ shoota me!" The small, slightly rotund mustelid practically bounces with rage, pointing his rusty cleaver in Vannon's direction. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:24 a.m.
The fox nods to them, 'good day.' even as he tightens his grip on his bow. Nothing like the sight of two well armed woodlanders marching towards you to sober you up. The fox begins to quicken his pace away from them, trying to remember if he has any bounty on his head in this area. Not one to wait around and find out the fox begins to scrurry along when out of no where...WEASELS! Horrible angry weasels with grudges to grind. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:26 a.m.
Vannon let's out a terrified shout at the sudden appearence of the Weasly before turning tail and runing back the way he came, towards the mice..."Gang way! Mad Weasel!" He shouts, not carring if he bowls them over or not. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:26 a.m.
Might be a bit hard to bowl them over; sturdy looking fellows they happen to be. But Vannon manages to squeeze through them just as they start to part the way for the fox to run through; giving him a strange look... and then back towards the weasel as it comes charging down the road. "Odd that a fox is running from a weasel. Wouldn't you say Brother John?" John turns to look at the other mouse and nods. "Indeed Brother Michael. Should we interfere in whatever this is? By the sounds of it the fox shot that weasel." Jul 24, 2015 at 10:32 a.m.
Seemingly unperturbed by the martial aspect of the mice, John Wesley gives chase, flailing wildly with his cleaver. It's possible he might smack one of the mice with it as he races past, surprisingly quick for someone as... for someone who is the way he is. XD He continues to shriek insults at the fox as he runs, cleaver brandished high. "Stoopid skinny fox-face shoota John Wesley Weasel! Norra /no one/ shoota John Wesley Weasel!" Jul 24, 2015 at 10:38 a.m.
In true horror movie fashion Vannon strips over his own two feet. He yelps as he falls, quickly picking himself up to a crouched stance and slinging his bow over his shoulder, "You crazy weasel! Stay away from me!" The fox begins to reach for an arrow from his quiver. "I Didn't shoot you! I mean...I didn't mean too! I mean...IT'S NOT MY FAULT! Now stay back or else I'll ventilate you again!" Jul 24, 2015 at 10:42 a.m.
True to their currently calm demeanor The mice act just as Wesley manages to smack one of them with the broad side of that cleaver. John raches out and slaps his hand on the cleaver to keep it from flailing about anymore as Michael slips out a foot paw beneath Wesley's feet followed by a quick thump of his fist on Welseys back to assist in tripping. "I think we should intervene Brother John. Someones liable to get injured, shouldn't let dibbuns play with weapons." Obviously they know he isn't a dibbun; but that certainly was the way one might act. Michael looks over to Vannon and gives a soft stare. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:48 a.m.
thuds to the ground, stopped in his mad charge at the fox, whom, to be fair, did recently shoot him. The little weasel hangs gamely onto his cleaver as he rolls about halfway over, scrabbling back to his feet and off of the road. It would seem he knows how to take a shove, at least. "Ha/ha!/" he crows, backing away from the pair and menacing them with the rusted steel, moving towards Vannon as he does so. Who cares about a puny arrow? "You norra stop John Wesley like-a dat, mouse-face sun-butt!" Jul 24, 2015 at 10:53 a.m.
John_Wesley thuds to the ground, stopped in his mad charge at the fox, whom, to be fair, did recently shoot him. The little weasel hangs gamely onto his cleaver as he rolls about halfway over, scrabbling back to his feet and off of the road. It would seem he knows how to take a shove, at least. "Ha/ha!/" he crows, backing away from the pair and menacing them with the rusted steel, moving towards Vannon as he does so. Who cares about a puny arrow? "You norra stop John Wesley like-a dat, mouse-face sun-butt!" Jul 24, 2015 at 10:54 a.m.
Timothy heads south. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:56 a.m.
THis is bad. Vannon Realizes. Not just the whole mad meat cleaving weasel aspect but the fact that Vannon can't let Weasely get himself killed off either. He can just imagine that conversation with Jak. 'Hey boss, sorry about shooting Weasely. The good news is I got him killed! Oh and two armed mice tried to follow me back to the camp!' Jul 24, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
yeah...no. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
He had to calm the Weasel down. It would take a great deal of tack, cunning, and charisma to talk Weasely out of killing him. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
The fox drew an arrow quickly and loaded it before launching it at the weasel's tail. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
Or he could just wound him now and short out the mess later. That works too. Jul 24, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
Jul 24, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
The Mice watch rather passively, finding the whole thing rather amusing. "The Weasel even talks like a dibbun doesn't he Brother John? Those insults are terribly put together." Who nods in agreement and starts to draw a Javelin out of his set of three. "This might stop him p..." well it seems the Fox is going to take care of it himself; leaving the mice wonders just what in blazes is going on and John to let the Javelin slipe back into it's bag. Jul 24, 2015 at 11:06 a.m.
The mice might feel less calm when John Wesley's sashaying tuckus, moving in opposite time and direction to his cleaver, ambles out of the way of the arrow. The feathered quarrel careens off a rock towards destinations unknown, but not before alerting John to its flight. "You shoota John Wesley /again/?" The little weasel can scarcely believe it. The audacity! Jul 24, 2015 at 11:11 a.m.
Before Vannon can reply there is a loud, ear splitting shout from the forrest beyond. There is a rustling noise as a creature appears further down the road. First comes her head, then the rest of her long, scaley body. Green and black with fins down the side of her head the snake lifts herself up to her full hight. Tulip plucks the arrow head from her back using her tail. She lifts it accusingly in the air and shakes it. "Who doesss thisSs belong too?" Jul 24, 2015 at 11:26 a.m.
Vannon twitches an eye and figits an ear. "Oh come on..." Looking down at the bow in his paws he gulps. Jul 24, 2015 at 11:26 a.m.
It obviously wasn't the mice, they have no bow, and the madly dancing weasel had nothing to do with it! So it's only logical to assume that the arrow belongs to the poor fox sitting off in the distance. Brother John turns to look at Miochael and then the snake as the pair slowly start to shuffle away towards the nearest town. "This just keeps getting more interesting by the second." "Definately going to have an interesting report this time..." Jul 24, 2015 at 11:32 a.m.
John_Wesley may be stupid but he's also dumb. "Snake-tooth lookit fox-face!" The cleaver points accusatorially at Vannon, backing towards the underbrush and snickering gleefully. "Lookit lookit!" Jul 24, 2015 at 11:37 a.m.
"M-me?" Vannon almost squeaks. He tooses the bow to Weasely. "It was him! All him! Not me!" yeah...this day just got so much worse. Vannon turns to the rapidly fleeing mice, "Where do you lot think you're going? Y-you can't just leave us here with this...this snake!" Jul 24, 2015 at 11:42 a.m.
The snake for her part only replies by crushing the arrow in her tail. She slithers forward, murderous hate burning in her eyes. "I will sstrangle you withss your own ssSspine..." She doesn't make it particularly clear WHO she is going to strangle, then again, is it really important? The snake quickens her pace towards the beasts. Jul 24, 2015 at 11:42 a.m.
The Mice call back to the fox as they rapidly make their exit, grabbing their weapons as they do... just in case. "It wasn't us who shot the arrow! Maybe try and apologize! Failing that RUN!" They are going to do the smart thing and high tail it out of there; but can you really blame them? Jul 24, 2015 at 11:48 a.m.
John_Wesley lets the bow clatter at his feet. For some reason the weasel seems unperturbed by the arrival of the snake, more concerned with the apparent escape of his foxy foe/friend. "You norra get 'way fr'm John Wesley!" For some reason he's doing more threatening flails with his cleaver than running, all of them directed at Vannon, not the snake. Jul 24, 2015 at 11:49 a.m.
"John Weasely!" Vannon then proceeds to call John every name in the book as he turns and runs in the same direction as the mice, away from the weasel, and away from the snake. Tears are streaming down his eyes as he flees. THe snake behind him cackles in grim delight, "Yess run run run, you can't esscape Tulip, cause I'm going to rip your bloody little head off!" She slithers forward, if only she had not eaten that late lunch last week she would have already caught up with them. Mice are always tasty, but these are covered in armor. How is she supposed to digest that? The weasel looks plump and tender but, for right now she is focused on the fox who managed to harm her beautifull scales. "I'll rip all your headsssSSss off! Come back here!" Jul 24, 2015 at 11:57 a.m.
John_Wesley laughs twistedly as the snake chases the fox, certain that for once Fate has repaid him by doling out adequate justice to his oppressors. Satisfied, he heads back towards their camp. Jul 24, 2015 at 12:01 p.m.
Brothers John and Michael keep running. "Michael; why did you forget the climbing rope back at the Abbey? Why?!" The Mouse replies with an equally terse reply as they make a big zigzag through the trees towards some sort of safty and hopefully losing Vannon in the process. "Because you said we wouldn't NEED it this trip. Mayhaps you forgot that we aren't exactly squirrels." Jul 24, 2015 at 12:04 p.m.
"Why does the world hate me so? WHY! WhyyyYyyYYyYYyYyY!" The fox continues running even after the mice depart from the path. The snake continues following the fox, slithering past them all and onward until both are out of sight, dissapearing around the bend. The snake cursing out the fox, and the fox shouting for help. Jul 24, 2015 at 12:09 p.m.
Timothy heads off. Jul 24, 2015 at 12:18 p.m.
Timothy enters from afar. Jul 24, 2015 at 12:18 p.m.
John_Wesley heads east. Jul 24, 2015 at 12:19 p.m.
Bindi enters Log-a-Log's tent. Jul 25, 2015 at 8:08 a.m.
Bindi enters the infirmary. Jul 25, 2015 at 8:08 a.m.
Bindi steps inside. Jul 25, 2015 at 8:08 a.m.
Bindi heads south. Jul 25, 2015 at 8:09 a.m.
Haven heads off. Jul 25, 2015 at 4:34 p.m.
Haven enters from afar. Jul 25, 2015 at 4:34 p.m.
Timeon enters the infirmary. Jul 26, 2015 at 12:40 p.m.
Timeon steps inside. Jul 26, 2015 at 12:40 p.m.
Timeon heads west. Jul 26, 2015 at 12:40 p.m.
Timeon emerges from the east. Jul 26, 2015 at 12:40 p.m.
Timeon heads east. Jul 26, 2015 at 12:40 p.m.
Kevi vanishes with a big yawn into the land of Insomnia! Jul 26, 2015 at 3:38 p.m.
Kevi arrives with a large yawn. Jul 26, 2015 at 3:38 p.m.
Thing is sad that nobody has time to RP it. Jul 27, 2015 at 6:23 a.m.
Nadir heads east. Jul 27, 2015 at 6:37 p.m.
The Guosim camp looks much the same as it has since the vermin group made it their squatting place, a jumble of rotting huts propped up and populated by newer, more nefarious denizens. Jaksor is lounging under the Log-a-log's tent, impatiently scraping his hook across a log he's dragged there, possibly for just that purpose. Jul 28, 2015 at 10:34 a.m.
It is high time for one of those 'more nefarious denizens' to return to the camp. Blown back into camp by an ill wind Vannon returns to the gang, his clothes covered in leaves and sticks. His snout appears to be covered in what appears to be water mellons. He clutches at his slightly swollen side as he painfully trots back into the old villge. "Dead...I am so dead..." The fox mumbles to himself as he walks, with a bit of a limp on his way towards the camp fire. Jul 28, 2015 at 10:38 a.m.
What is he going to say to the camp? How will they react? Should he tell them that he may have DOOMED them ALL? Well, maybe he can break it to them easy... Jul 28, 2015 at 10:38 a.m.
Jaksor glances up from the scratched surface of the bark he's... scratching, and sees Vannon. His dark aspect darkens further at the sight of the fox. "Well well well. Look a' what th' cat dragged in," the polecat comments in a brooding voice. Jul 28, 2015 at 10:45 a.m.
"GAH! DON'T EAT ME! Jul 28, 2015 at 10:46 a.m.
"GAH! DON'T EAT ME!" The fox snaps out a quick bark, leaping to the ground and covering his head with his paws. After a moment he peers around the camp, slowly picking himself up and nervously twitching his tail. "Jak...Jak is that really you? Oh you don't know how glad I am to see you!" The fox scurries over, occasionally glancing behind him as if something is following him. "You won't believe the week I had! It was...it was awfull! First I got seperated from the group, then I met Weasely and some mice and and and and..." the fox casts his head backward and howls, "I nearly got EAAAATEEEEEN!" Jul 28, 2015 at 10:51 a.m.
"Mus' be desp'rate times all over, then," Jaksor comments, picking at his teeth with a piece of bone. He flicks the offending particle towards the fox. "If /you're/ th' first choice f'r th' table." Jul 28, 2015 at 10:56 a.m.
"You think I'm joking? This isn't a joke! I nearly got eaten! We are all in danger! Danger do you here me? DANGER!" The fox tries to grab the pole cat by his shirt and shake him back and forth before he realizes what he is doing, "There is a snake coming to kill us all unless we pay it tribute!" He shouts loudly. Jul 28, 2015 at 10:59 a.m.
The fox's paws grip Jaksor's tunic and the fabric gets pulled around, but the polecat himself does not move. Dark eyes flash with anger as Vannon describes their predicament. "A /snake?/" Quick as a flash, the bronze hook is under Vannon's chin, pushing upward with its sharp point. "Maybe I'll jus' kill you now an' feed it y'r lifeless corpse as /tribute,/" he growls, shoving the fox back. "Why in blazes would y' lead it back 'ere?" Jul 28, 2015 at 11:03 a.m.
The fox seems to stand on his toes as the hook is thrust upward under his chin. When he is shoved backward the fox falls flat onto his rump. "J-just hear me out! I had no choice, it was going to eat me but through some quick well placed charm and logical reasoning I was able to make the beast see reason..." Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
____Yesterday_____ Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
"I don't want to diiIIIIiieEEEEeeee-e-e-e..." The fox whines while the adder slowly encircles around his body. Tulip rolls her eyes, "By all that isss holy you are the mosst whiny prey I have ever sssseen!" The snake picks up another watermellon and shoves it strait into Vannon's face. And here Tulip was wondering what to do with all those watermellons the merchant had before she ate him, and his crew. The only reason she didn't eat the fox here and now was because she was too full. The only reason she didn't kill him was, well, his fur was soft and fuzzy. And she wanted him to suffer a bit before he died... Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
___Now_____ Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
"You see, I kind of managed to convince the snake to let me go with the promise of bringing it something else to eat." Vannon rubs the back of his neck. "I also may have possibly maybe told her that I could do this cause I'm the, ahem." he coughs into his paw, "Gang leader..." Jul 28, 2015 at 11:15 a.m.
Jaksor tinkles softly as he adjusts his tunic and chainmail brynie, then pulls his scimitar out of its sheath. Why? It's between the impending snake or the groveling fox- could go either way, really. "At first I'm struck with th' thought, why trade? Surely one beast makes as good'a meal as anoth'r," the polecat muses, toying with the handle of his scimitar and sending the business end moving around worringly. "Then it dawns on me like th' springtime sunrise-" his voice oddly poetic and wistful, before "we're talkin' about /you./" And to punctuate his conclusion, Jaks aims a swift kick at the fox's ribs. "I don't /care/ what y' told th' blasted snake, it's a /blasted snake!/" Jul 28, 2015 at 11:30 a.m.
Vannon gasps in pain, clutching at his chest. He sees the blade being drawn and instantly feels his heart start to race. So this is how his other family members died. He always wondered how all his cousins could have been killed only by fox eating beasts or turned into rugs. "Ok, you're a little mad. I get that. But there I-Is good news! The snake gave us, well, me really, a week to find some kind of replacement meal. It distinctly said something plump and tasty. Well it said tassssty, if there is a differnce. B-but before you go and do anything truely rash just think about how we could USE this, you know, like that Guard uniform I brought you!" The fox is quick to list off his accomplishments, and rather worried at how few they are. "I'm not quite sure HOW we can use t-this but hey, I'm trying to help right?" Jul 28, 2015 at 11:37 a.m.
"Th' only way we c'n 'use this' is as a chance t' get rid of /y'r/ sorry hide," Jaksor fumes, resisting the urge to belabor the fox with the flat of his blade. "Unfortunately f'r all assembled, we ain't got th' food f'r an undertakin' of /that/ magnitude." The polecat finally relents, collapsing back to sit on his log, pinching the bridge of his muzzle and scraping at the bark with his hook. "One more stunt like this an' I'll send y' t' th' Dark Forest, fox. An' that's a promise, not a threat. Y're more harm than good an' we jus' can't keep cleanin' y'r messes." You have to be realistic about these things. Jul 28, 2015 at 11:44 a.m.
Vannon wavers back and forth, about to faint. He...he isn't going to die? He isn't going to die. He isn't going to die! "Oh thank you thank you thank you! You are the best boss ever really. I'll..I'll make this up to you! I swear! I'll loot like...ten merchants for you! Maybe maybe even lead you to...er, no, that would be a bad idea. You wouldn't want to go THERE." The fox picks himself up, dusting himself clean and wiping water mellon off of his muzzle. His knees shake with relief, "I mean even 'I' am not crazy enough to go back to that place, even with all the gold just laying there, out in the open, waiting to be taken." The fox has a distant, depressed look. It passes quickly and his smile quickly returns. "Never mind, just forget about that." Jul 28, 2015 at 11:48 a.m.
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:48 a.m.
"I migh' still kill you," Jaksor muses, rolling a piece of crust out of the corner of his eye and flicking it at the fox. "'Specially if y' don't shut up about y'r magic treasure trove. If it was real y' wouldn' be /here/ lookin' like a piece of twice-chewed jerky." Fairy tales aside, the polecat nods towards the forest. "When's this snake showin' up? Maybe we c'n feed it th' kit, though I'd reckon our own scaled wonder'd be mighty put out, like as not." Jul 28, 2015 at 11:53 a.m.
"It's not a fairy tail. I saw it with my own eyes" Vannon's growl dies down to a dull whimper, "And I saw the lizards that guard the place too... I survived going there twice, I would rather not try my luck with a third." Vannon never believed in luck, quite simply because if luck were real he would have ran out of it a LONG time ago. "And a week from now. She gave us a week to find her some kind of beast to eat." Jul 28, 2015 at 11:57 a.m.
"Well!" That wraps things up quite nicely. Jaksor actually seems to brighten a bit, ears sliding back forward from their hostile rearward posture. "We'll be gone by then. Probl'm solved." Jul 28, 2015 at 12:02 p.m.
Vannon seems taken aback, "W-we will?" The fox thinks for a long moment, "Why are we leaving the camp?" Jul 28, 2015 at 12:04 p.m.
"What, y' got attached t' th' tumbledown shacks?" Jaksor chuckles ruefully, pointing at just one such example with his hook. "We're leavin' cause there ain't no booty 'ere, an' we're goin' t' where th' booty /is./" Simple math. Come on, Vannon. Jul 28, 2015 at 12:07 p.m.
The fox is so used to having nothing he has gotten used to the idea of having nothing as normal. The fox ponders this for a moment, tapping his chin with his paw. Perhaps a change in scenery will be good for him. A fresh start, as it were. Another thought strikes him he chuckles lightly, "Hey, do you still have that otter welp? Cause I can't imagine the village letting her just dissapear..." Jul 28, 2015 at 12:11 p.m.
"She's in that hut, tied an' gagged," Jaksor answers with a jerk of his thumb towards a different hut. "Th' streamdogs've got till th' full moon [OOC: Friday], then, I dunno, Coaxoch c'n 'ave 'er or somethin'." It doesn't really matter to him. Jul 28, 2015 at 12:16 p.m.
THe fox chuckles darkly, "Wouldn't it be something if the stream dogs would com on the same night as the snake?" He chuckles and shakes his head as he walks off to clean himself off and finally, get a goods nights rest. Jul 28, 2015 at 12:18 p.m.
Bafaloukos goes In Character. Jul 28, 2015 at 5:30 p.m.
Mint is still in the hut and has been the last few days. She has been feed a little bit of food, but not the best kind of food and then they place the gag back on her moth and keep her tied up. She has cried herself to sleep numerous times, she lost count, and now is awake again. Jul 28, 2015 at 5:32 p.m.
It would appear that Bafaloukos has been entrusted with guard duties again, now that the dust from the hut fiasco has settled. The old fox sits in the dirt by the door of the prison hut, drinking some foul brew from an earthenware bowl. Steam rises from its surface, and its odor is so powerful that it has infused the air around him. Jul 28, 2015 at 5:40 p.m.
Mint whimpers as she happens to be close to the doorway. Her fur is matted with tangles and dust now and her paws aree sore from the ropes. She has tried to get away a lot of times, but has failed and so has given up. Jul 28, 2015 at 5:41 p.m.
Bafaloukos' ears have gone flat from the constant whimpering of their captive. "Hush, lil' one," he coos in a pause among sips. His head tilts back against the frame of the door, and an eye dizzily rolls to find Mint. Though her prison is without the benefit of a lantern, her huddled silhouette can be seen among the shadow. "Shh." Jul 28, 2015 at 5:49 p.m.
Mint only manages to whimper more now at the sound of the voice and then coughs a little bit. She has done very little since she has been here but cry alot, she is a dibbun after all. Jul 28, 2015 at 5:51 p.m.
Bafaloukos polishes off the contents of the bowl in a final and flinching gulp. Immediately doubling forward, the fox braces himself against the earth with a palm, looking as if he were about to retch. His other hand continues to hold the bowl, almost protective, while the fox sucks sharp breaths, coaxing the tea to settle in his belly. "Th' spirits 'ave been talkin' about you," he tells the otter, voice extra hoarse. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:01 p.m.
Mint frowns, she doesn't understand a word he is saying and has no idea whi these spirits are and sniffs as a couple tears go down her face. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:03 p.m.
Unconcerned with whether the otter is mature or lucid enough to understand him, Bafalokos heaves a few more labored breaths, before he crawls on a wrist and two muddy knees into the prison hut. Now he sits on his haunches, still clutching the bowl, to stare at their tiny captive with foggy curiosity. "Sayin' a lot of things, aye, but not clear just yet." Jul 28, 2015 at 6:11 p.m.
Adyna takes in the scene with a critical eye as she makes her way across the camp. For once the alcoholic stoat doesn't have a bottle in her - oh. There it is. "Ye botherin' it?" she says, after wiping her mouth, sounding like she hasn't spoken in days. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:16 p.m.
Mint tries to scoot back when she sees the fox looking at her and mutters something but it's unclear what as she has the gag on and shivers a little. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:17 p.m.
An unsteady hand reaches to undo the knot in her gag. Fear has nothing to do with his tremor, though; Bafaloukos fumbles with the dirty cloth like a beast who just took a blow to the head, or one in the throes of a bad fever. "I got to let it speak," he divulges to Adyna without turning from Mint. "They want 'er to speak." Jul 28, 2015 at 6:22 p.m.
Adyna considers this and eventually consults her bottle for advice. "Wha'd Jaksor plan then?" she says, in a low voice. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:25 p.m.
Mint coughs as the gag is removed and sniffs as she looks between them.."Me..hungie.." She says in a weak voice. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:27 p.m.
Bafaloukos responds with a wag of the clay bowl. "No, not... not them," he grunts, bringing the mortar to his nose for a whiff. Though the acrid stench makes the fox screw his eyes shut, he pushes the bowl to the pup's snout, coaxing her inhale. "Big breath, lil' one," he warbles. The bowl if empty, of course, and though the odor of the sediment in its bottom may make Mint briefly lightheaded, it's not meant to harm her. Jul 28, 2015 at 6:34 p.m.
"Eh?" Adyna frowns, gesturing to the dibbun with the half-empty bottle. "Who took it?" Jul 28, 2015 at 6:40 p.m.
Mint whimpers as he gets closer and then sneezes and starts wailing loudly, but it doesn't last too long as her throat is once more sore and she coughs again and shivers in far of the two vermin.."Wanna..go homes" Jul 28, 2015 at 6:42 p.m.
"Th' others," is Bafaloukos' nebulous reply to his stoat chum. When the pup sneezes, he fetches the bowl back to the safety of his chest. "From th' camp over the river. But old ghosts guard this forest." The old fox moves back from Mint--far enough to skirt any unexpected kicks--and uses his palm to brush wet away the hay on the ground, revealing the smooth earth beneath. "We took somethin' without 'eir leave." Jul 28, 2015 at 6:50 p.m.
Adyna looks from Bafa to Mint, and back, finally noticing the bowl in his paws. "Ye took 'er from 'cross th' river? D'they /know/ then?" Jul 28, 2015 at 6:53 p.m.
Mint whimpers and coughs and...oh no she barfs now all over the ground and herself. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:01 p.m.
Suddenly out of nowhere comes a screaming cat running about near the hut, his clothes on fire until he finally trips on himself and smothers the fire with the dirt and his rolling around, "Ain't got no cookin' skills, good to know, " His eyes focus on the hut and the activity around it. Sheepishly he grins, approaching the hut as if nothing happened, "What's going on here eh?" Jul 28, 2015 at 7:02 p.m.
By now, the stoat and the old fox speak of two separate groups, though neither seems aware. When Bafaloukos is satisfied with the circle he has cleared among the detritus of the hut floor, he cautiously places the bowl in its center, and moves to collect his rucksack from outside the door. "Of course they know," he grunts as he maneuvers by Adyna. "Now we make a deal." His ears swivel up as the cat careens into the scene, but a surge of vertigo simultaneously pushes him into the wood frame of the hut. He slides to the floor, coughing, right into a puddle of otter puke. "Or they come f'r us." Jul 28, 2015 at 7:09 p.m.
Mint blinks and whimpers and she had calmed down but now she wails again, even more loudly! Jul 28, 2015 at 7:10 p.m.
Adyna turns at the commotion, paw on her rapier, the other clinging to the bottle - it takes her a moment to recognize the cat through the alcoholic haze. She doesn't say anything, mind still mulling over what Bafa's said. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:12 p.m.
Otto grins as he approaches the group, his clothing singed and smelling slightly burnth. He curiously looks over every beast, but focuses his attention on the otter since everyone else is, "Eh, a captive eh?" He doesn't seem to mind either way. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:19 p.m.
When the fox raises himself from the floor with an arm, his head remains hung and golden eyes linger on the spew, unfazed. Then they travel to the quaking otter pup, then to the door and his comrades. Bafaloukos says nothing to any of them, but he glimpses something that reminds him of what he meant to do, and tows himself and his bag over to the circle again. "Hushh. Listen," he abruptly tells the others. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:25 p.m.
Mint coughs and whimpers again, and yes throws up again. The gag is still off as he mutters "WANNA GO...GO HOME! Jul 28, 2015 at 7:26 p.m.
Otto does as he's told, not that he's doing much but gawking at the situation to begin with. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:37 p.m.
"You will, lil' one," Bafaloukos comforts, removing several items from the rucksack. A pair of stout candles are positioned to either side of the bowl, along with a tarnished metal crock, to which he adds the contents of various cloth pouches. "Fire," he says, vocalizing the realization that he forgot this very basic magical ingredient. "Bring me a torch?" is his pursuant plea. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:44 p.m.
Mint blinks, wait did they say fire, fire is bad! Very Bad! And now she wails louder and sniffs, she could care less if her throat hurts, she just wails loudly Jul 28, 2015 at 7:47 p.m.
The cat tenses a little bit, in agreement with the Mint even if he doesn't know it. Fire is indeed bad. He shrugs though, and seeing nobody else snapping to it with a salute towards Baf, "Aye matey!" He runs off to where he was experimenting with cooking and returns shortly with a torch. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:53 p.m.
Mint eyes close as she finally runs out of screaming energy....that lasted about half an hour, she is a sleep now and that could be good or bad. Jul 28, 2015 at 7:55 p.m.
Bafaloukos musters a weak smile of gratitude for the cat, visibly relieved that he did not have to undertake the task himself. When the captive youth ceases to howl and finds a dream in which to hide, the old fox regards her with a look of mild envy, before he returns to his task. With the torch he ignites each candle, then swiftly plunges the flame into the metal crock. The matter inside burns fast, a bright jade flame, then extinguishes just as quick into a puff of aromatic smoke. Jul 28, 2015 at 8:06 p.m.
The cat returns the smile, mostly pleased with himself for not setting himself on fire even once in his handling of the torch. He is uncertain though as everyone either goes quiet or slinks off. Jul 28, 2015 at 8:13 p.m.
Flickering candles now illuminate Bafaloukos' circle in the dirt and its items, but when the torch goes out, the rest of the hut is relinquished to shadow. As a claustrophobic dark invades heaps of hay and the rotten rafters above, the old fox hunkers closer to the makeshift altar, so that he can more easily peer into the clay bowl from earlier. Jul 28, 2015 at 8:23 p.m.
Not wanting to break the silence, and feeling as if he's intruding Otto hangs back watching. Soon though, feeling out of place weighs on him a little too much for him to stay in place and he quietly disappears into the night. Jul 28, 2015 at 8:28 p.m.
Bafaloukos crouches, doing his best to balance in spite of a swimming head. He does not appear to notice that the others have left, transfixed by the odorous sediment from the concoction that seems to have poisoned him. Jul 28, 2015 at 8:45 p.m.
Haven heads off. Jul 30, 2015 at 4:38 p.m.
Haven enters from afar. Jul 30, 2015 at 4:38 p.m.
"Full moon t'night, buckos," Jaksor calls to the camp at large, dragging his hook theatrically around a post as he turns a circle around it. "We're pullin' up camp! Th' streamdogs don't want their kit, an' neither do we. It's time we get out of this cesspool." Jul 31, 2015 at 12:08 p.m.
Mint is still in the hut and she is not in very good shape either, she has not eatten well and what ever the stuff was from the other day has left her ill still. She is also still tied up and the gag is on her mouth and she looks a bit unconicious right now, well if anyone looks. Jul 31, 2015 at 12:12 p.m.
Ferilla sits a good distance away from the hut where the kit is being held, in her makeshift little abode fashioned of burnt bits of hut and canvas. She's got her equipment all pulled out and laid across her jacket, and she's sitting against a charred board that's still stuck upright in the ground, putting a neww edge on her sword. "That mean we dump the kid?" she asks of Jaksor, raising her voice enough to reach him. Jul 31, 2015 at 12:20 p.m.
Bindi pokes his head out of the forest near the southern edge of camp, having heard the call of Jaksor. His eyes are blood shot and he looks a tad sleep deprived, but despite this the little rat disappears back into the foliage for a moment before reemerging carrying the mop, bucket, and flower pot (flower intact), he procured from the raid in Ferraval. Jul 31, 2015 at 12:32 p.m.
Ferilla's comment seems to spark some sort of memory in Jaksor's head, as he pauses his pole-scratching to think for a moment. With a snarl, he whirls on the hut where Mint is freshening the air and stalks inside, slipping his hook under her bonds and lifting her by the arms towards him, breathing less-than-minty air in her face. "Nobuddy wants you," he growls, frustrated by the lack of ransom goods from the otter camp. It's her fault for not being desirable enough to save, right? He hoists her up and hauls her outside, dangling from the hook like a prize catch at a three-day fishing contest. Jul 31, 2015 at 12:36 p.m.
Mint eyes open maybe a crack as she is barely conicious and manages a weak whimper as she comes more awake from the foul breath of the polecat. Jul 31, 2015 at 12:39 p.m.
The whetstone grates down the steel of Ferilla's sword as she eyes the dibbun dangling from Jaksor's hook. At least the gag's still working so she's not crying or vomiting everywhere. Ferilla makes a face. "Congratulations." she remarks snidely at Jaksor's display of the captive. Her eyes roll as she sees Bindi emerging from the forest with his treasures. Jul 31, 2015 at 12:49 p.m.
Bindi proceeds to the middle of camp whereupon he dumps his passel of items, careful to make sure the flower pot stays upright. He trundles over to where Ferilla and Jaksor stand with Mint and pauses, looking curiously at the kit, "Wadda yew reckon ta do with 'er." Jul 31, 2015 at 12:56 p.m.
*? Jul 31, 2015 at 12:57 p.m.
Jaksor gives Ferilla a snide grin, as if to say "very funny", then glances over at Bindi, the otter kit still hanging from his hook. Pinata? "She's a riverdog, ain't she? If Coaxoch don't want a new chewtoy, she can go back in the river." Jul 31, 2015 at 12:58 p.m.
Mint goes to try and weakly struggle to get lose and fails badly, she whimpers weakly and coughs a little. Jul 31, 2015 at 1 p.m.
The ermine sits back, laying her freshly-sharpened sword to one side. "No chance they'd jus' forget about it if we threw her back?" she suggests as a sort of aside. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:05 p.m.
Bindi nods decisively at Jaksor's words, applying himself strictly to the belief that /boss knows best/. Then again, the ermine makes a good point, though the little rat's pride can't bring itself to openly agree. So he simply stays quiet and leers at the pinata child. When all else fails, intimidation has your back. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:12 p.m.
"An' they're not gonna forget about us draggin' 'er off, neither," Jaksor replies, roughly dropping the kit to the ground and extricating his hook from the bonds. "We've already riled 'em much as they can be, like as not," the polecat reasons, staring down at the sluggish movements of the captive. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:23 p.m.
Mint gives a small yelp as she is droped, falling flat on her face and shakes her head causeing the gag to come loose, she coughs roughly and whimpers as she does her best to curl into a ball. But being tied up still tightly makes it hard to do so very well and she now has a place on her forehead seeping blood from the fall. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:25 p.m.
"Nice one, boss." Ferilla snickers at Mint's misfortune. She doesn't really have a problem with killing the kit, she just figures that that's a surefire way to get the otters after them even worse than they already are. "Where is the lizardy one, anyways?" she asks, referring to Coaxoch. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:29 p.m.
Bindi scowls at the kit, now cringing on the floor, and turns abruptly from the scene at the mention of Coaxoch. The lizard is best forgotten about, in Bindi's impotent opinion. The little rat heads back his treasures laying in the middle of camp, saying over his shoulder, "Mebbe we should wait 'an chuck 'er in once we're 'bout ta leave, tha' way when they find er' body, they can't catch us unawares." Jul 31, 2015 at 1:44 p.m.
"Y'll notice she's not already in th' crick," Jaksor replies, pointing pointedly at the kit with his hook. "Th' shrews've left a fair supply of logboats about. We'll be takin' 'em downriver t' th' coast, where there's like t' be more an' easier pickin's." The question about the lizard bears some thought, but the polecat doesn't seem inclined to give it. "I've got enough t' deal with cleanin' up th' messes you lot make without playin' nanny too. Coaxoch is where he wants t' be." Jul 31, 2015 at 1:47 p.m.
Mint shivers and stays hardly moveing on the ground, she tries to inch her way somewhere besides where she is , but its hard when she is still tied up. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:51 p.m.
The jill just sort of gives Jaksor a mildly annoyed "Hmph," in response. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:55 p.m.
Mint meanwhile has inched her way, or rolled a little. closer to the polecat's footpaw and with the gag off she shoes she can still do something that is annying and probally painful, she goes to bite his foot paw as hard as she can. This is most likely a very bad idea, but she is a dibbun so she doesn't reallt think things all the way out before she acts. Jul 31, 2015 at 1:58 p.m.
Bindi scowls again, this time at Jaksors reply. Well, /he/ thought it was a clever idea, even if bossman had already considered it. However, his ears perk up at the mention of boating, "Somethin' ta do, at last!" He rubs his paws together gleefully and starts to shuffle towards the river, reckoning that's where the boats will be located. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:04 p.m.
As if summoned purely by being talked about, Coaxoch strolls out of the treeline, stretching languorously as he walks into the middle of the camp once more. Apparently "clean yourself" doesn't mean much to him, as his chest is streaked with blood that doesn't seem to be his own, and he's carrying several bits of fresh meat in a sack. Hellgates knows where he got it from. "Sssomething happening?" he asks, sounding almost lazy. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:07 p.m.
Jaksor snarls and kicks at the otter kit as her sharp little teeth sink into his foot. "Blasted streamdog," he fumes, reaching down to hook her bonds with his hook again and hoisting her aloft, proferring her at armslength to the lizard. "Jus' takin' out some trash. Y' want it, it's yours. Otherwise, toss 'er in th' crick." He jerks his head towards the body of water just outside the camp. "An' start loadin' th' boats. We leave tonight." Jul 31, 2015 at 2:11 p.m.
Mint is kicked in the throat and lets out a little gasp, as she is lifted up and held out to the lizard she looks in worse shape than she was before. She coughs again and her eyes start to flutter shut. Is she still alive? She is..barely. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:14 p.m.
Ferilla seems to regret asking where the lizard was when he actually shows up, covered in gore. "Jaksor's bein' bested by an otter kit." she remarks snidely in response to Coaxoch's question, sitting back and watching things play out. She almost feels bad for the little kit, but seems to repress it. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:18 p.m.
The lizard grins as the otter is held out to him. Sure he'd just gotten back from fetching more food, but... this is a delicacy, and the other stuff won't last forever anyhow. He'll even share it with the rest of the group, should they want it! With a swift snatch of the otter's tail, she's gone from Jaksor to Coaxoch, the lizard holding her aloft by her rudder, letting her dangle in midair, utterly unconcerned that she's in some kind of measurable distress. Reaching down, he pulls out the flint knife he keeps at his waist, flipping it between his spindly fingers. "Thanksss. Coaxoch acceptsss gladly. Will get rid of otter bessst way he can." Jul 31, 2015 at 2:24 p.m.
Mint looks weakly at the lizard and looks ready to pass out. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:29 p.m.
There's a hunger in his eyes as Coaxoch looks at the otter, and his tongue flicks from between his lips. The monster might even feel some sick thrill at killing something so weak and defenseless; hadn't he insisted that weak things were nothing more than prey enough in the past? He switches his grip, moving his hand from Mint's tail to the scruff of her neck, looking straight into her eyes as he holds her aloft, high in the air, away from the ground and any help at all. He's muttering something, something in some fell reptile language that just sounds like a series of gruesome hints and ugly syllables. He does it work slowly, reaching up with the dagger and pressing it to Mint's throat, letting the stone bite into her flesh for a moment before letting out a loud cry and whipping it across her neck, cutting the otter pup's neck open nearly to the spine, holding her up and letting her bleed out in midair. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:42 p.m.
Mint doesn't have time to tense up, or whimper, she already was weak from being a captive, the otter dibbun is dead, not that she most likely would of died soon anyways. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:45 p.m.
The white jill watches all this with a slightly sour look on her face. "Yech." she spits as she tears her gaze away. She's used to slitting throats, but taking that kind of pleasure in it is beyond even her violent tendencies. At least it's over. Jul 31, 2015 at 2:57 p.m.
Suddenly there is a crow of delight from down by the river and soon Bindi appears, scampering along the bankside, "Oy, 'tis true! Light 'ase come again; we 'ave /boats/!" The little rat is surprisingly overjoyed by the news. He seems about to say more when he notices the gruesome scene spread out before him, "Well tha's....somethin" out o' a nightmare." He mutters and unconsciously puts a paw to his own neck. Jul 31, 2015 at 3:03 p.m.
Coaxoch's head flicks towards Bindi as he reappears, giving him an ugly grin, as toothy a one as a reptile's face is capable of. He clearly seems to enjoy being able to unnerve what he sees as a rather weak rat. Still, he can't stand there posing all day. He flips the otter dibbun's carcass over his shoulder, holding her as if she's nothing more than a sack of potatos, then stalks off towards the nearby river. It's not too long a walk, but at least no one will have to see him... carving. On the way, he drops the first sack of meat by the cooking pit and picks up a second one. Jul 31, 2015 at 3:07 p.m.
Getting to her feet a little shakily, Ferilla tugs her jacket out from under her belongings and slips it on, feeling a little chilled all of a sudden. "He goes in your boat," she remarks as Bindi gets within earshot. She crouches, starting to gether her things. Most of her belongings are meant to fit on her person, mostly in the pockets of her jacket, but being sedentary for so long in the shrew camp here, she's fashioned herself a small bundle of items, which she binds up tightly and throws over her shoulder. "Where Jul 31, 2015 at 3:11 p.m.
"Where've you been, anyways?' She asks Bindi. Jul 31, 2015 at 3:11 p.m.
Bindi gives Coaxoch a scowl to match his grin, and steps subtly away as the lizard passes. The reptile never fails to unnerve some part of Bindi's usually strong resolution. The little rat walks the rest of the way to his mound of stuff and snorts at Ferilla's comment, "Not iffin' I 'ave anythin' ta say 'bout it. 'e can walk." He bends down to gather up his things, hooking the bucket on the end of the mop and perching the flower pot delicately on his free arm. He stands before answering the ermine's question, "I been down river payin' off some debts, is all. S'where I picked up tha' annoyin' twip of a rat, who's sleepin' in the bushes over there." He waves non-descriptly towards the southern side of the camp, "Tis a sad thing tha' lizard didn't eat /him/" Jul 31, 2015 at 3:34 p.m.
Ferilla has absolutely no desire to meet any of Bindi's rat friends. "Paying off debts wit' what, yer mop an' bucket?" she prods, picking up her sword and slipping it back into its sheath smoothly. She starts walking towards the river, intent on looking over these boats before clambering into one with a possibly incompetent fellow vermin. Jul 31, 2015 at 3:39 p.m.
Bindi raises an eyebrow of annoyance at Ferilla's words, "Wait a second now, I'll 'ave you know I've fallen on...." He gestures nondescriptly, "Good times. I 'ave plenty more 'an just my mop and bucket." He tries to sound mysterious, with varying degrees of sucess. He sighs in exasperation at the ermine's receeding back, muttering, "Ah, it's no use." He hefts the mop over his shoulder and starts to teeter down towards the river. Jul 31, 2015 at 3:55 p.m.
As Ferilla and Bindi are going towards the river, Coaxoch is just finishing up with his gruesome task. As the other beast approach, no doubt they'll be able to hear the sounds of the lizard finishing filleting what was once an innocent otter cub. Eventually, the sounds all stop, and there's a loud splash as the corpse, minus the majority of its meat, is tossed into the River Moss to float downstream, and no doubt ruin some poor beast's day. Standing up and washing the blood off his paws in the river, Coaxoch takes his satchel full of meat back to the campfire, leaving only a red patch of grass as evidence of his grisly task. Unfortunately, it's right next to the boats for everyone to see. Jul 31, 2015 at 4 p.m.
Bindi gives the lizard a wide berth and a distasteful glare. He had no attachments to the little otter, certainly. But there's something unsettling about someone who goes about butchering with such joyous glee. He calls out to Coaxoch, "I 'ope yew don't think yew can take tha' along!" Jul 31, 2015 at 4:07 p.m.
Mint goes home. Aug 1, 2015 at 7:50 a.m.
Bafaloukos heads east. Aug 2, 2015 at 4:31 p.m.
Bafaloukos leaves with: Adyna, Coaxoch, Kevi Aug 2, 2015 at 4:31 p.m.
Twitchtail heads east. Aug 2, 2015 at 5:40 p.m.
Ferilla heads east. Aug 2, 2015 at 6:25 p.m.
Jaksor heads west. Aug 2, 2015 at 7:50 p.m.
Jaksor emerges from the east. Aug 2, 2015 at 7:50 p.m.
Jaksor heads east. Aug 2, 2015 at 7:50 p.m.
Bindi heads south. Aug 3, 2015 at 8:41 a.m.
Bindi heads west. Aug 3, 2015 at 10:11 a.m.
Bindi emerges from the east. Aug 3, 2015 at 10:11 a.m.
Bindi heads south. Aug 3, 2015 at 10:12 a.m.
Bindi heads off. Aug 3, 2015 at 10:13 a.m.
Bindi enters from afar. Aug 3, 2015 at 10:13 a.m.
Vannon goes into Dynamic Role-play. Aug 4, 2015 at 10:21 a.m.
Vannon heads off. Aug 4, 2015 at 10:21 a.m.
Vannon enters from afar. Aug 4, 2015 at 10:21 a.m.
Nadir heads east. Aug 6, 2015 at 1:09 p.m.
John_Wesley heads off. Aug 19, 2015 at 11:51 a.m.
John_Wesley enters from afar. Aug 19, 2015 at 11:51 a.m.
Autry enters Log-a-Log's tent. Apr 28, 2016 at 9:40 a.m.
Cinaed enters Log-a-Log's tent. Apr 28, 2016 at 12:36 p.m.
Cinaed enters the tent. Apr 28, 2016 at 12:36 p.m.
Jabari enters Log-a-Log's tent. Apr 28, 2016 at 4:24 p.m.
Jabari enters the tent. Apr 28, 2016 at 4:24 p.m.
Wallace heads east. Apr 29, 2016 at 9:59 p.m.
Cinaed heads east. May 3, 2016 at 6:27 a.m.
Cinaed enters Log-a-Log's tent. May 5, 2016 at 6:57 a.m.
Cinaed enters the tent. May 5, 2016 at 6:57 a.m.
Wallace enters Log-a-Log's tent. May 5, 2016 at 4:33 p.m.
Wallace enters the tent. May 5, 2016 at 4:33 p.m.
Aeysin enters Log-a-Log's tent. May 30, 2016 at 11:12 p.m.
Aeysin enters the tent. May 30, 2016 at 11:12 p.m.
Marnie heads east. Oct 9, 2016 at 3:14 p.m.
Autry heads south. Sep 18, 2017 at 4:43 p.m.
Autry heads west. Oct 10, 2018 at 7:59 p.m.
Autry emerges from the east. Oct 10, 2018 at 7:59 p.m.
Autry heads east. Oct 10, 2018 at 7:59 p.m.
Aella heads west. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:10 p.m.
Aella emerges from the east. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:10 p.m.
Aella enters Log-a-Log's tent. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:12 p.m.
Aeysin enters Log-a-Log's tent. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:13 p.m.
Aeysin enters the tent. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:13 p.m.
Autry enters Log-a-Log's tent. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:23 p.m.
Autry enters the tent. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:23 p.m.
Autry heads west. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:25 p.m.
Autry emerges from the east. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:25 p.m.
Autry heads south. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:34 p.m.
Autry heads east. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:34 p.m.
Autry enters the infirmary. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:34 p.m.
Autry heads west. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:36 p.m.
Autry emerges from the east. Oct 10, 2018 at 8:36 p.m.
Aella heads west. Oct 29, 2018 at 5:30 p.m.
Aella emerges from the east. Oct 29, 2018 at 5:30 p.m.
Aella enters the infirmary. Oct 29, 2018 at 5:31 p.m.
Aella heads south. Oct 29, 2018 at 5:31 p.m.
Aella heads west. Nov 13, 2018 at 4:42 a.m.
Aella emerges from the east. Nov 13, 2018 at 4:42 a.m.
Aella heads east. Nov 13, 2018 at 4:43 a.m.
Zak enters Log-a-Log's tent. Dec 27, 2018 at 12:59 p.m.
Zak enters the tent. Dec 27, 2018 at 12:59 p.m.
James enters Log-a-Log's tent. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:52 p.m.
James heads east. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:52 p.m.
James enters the infirmary. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:53 p.m.
James heads south. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:53 p.m.
James heads west. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:53 p.m.
James emerges from the east. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:53 p.m.
James heads east. Mar 24, 2019 at 10:53 p.m.
Vilfred heads west. Aug 5, 2019 at 9:20 p.m.
Vilfred emerges from the east. Aug 5, 2019 at 9:20 p.m.
Autry heads east. Aug 9, 2020 at 9:46 a.m.
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