Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Black Arch Fort. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
When The Commanders Are Away...; The Long Patrol will... shout a lot.
Topic Started: Jun 28 2008, 07:11 AM (352 Views)
Enamel Pardon
Member Avatar
Ruler of Specifics
[ *  *  *  * ]
A day such as this should have been fair, with clear skies, a gentle breeze and, perhaps, the smell of some exotic summer flower.

But weather really doesn't care a fig about narrative fancies.

It was muggy and wet and hadn't stopped raining for six hours. Thick rain, the kind that came down in great splotches, like a giant waterfall. Rain like this, it didn't matter if you were below decks or being keelhauled; you got wet.

S. E. Pardon did his best to enjoy it. It wasn't easy. He hated rain as much as he hated vermin. Rain covered tracks up, made your footpaws ache and got your lunch soggy. And the constant patter on his ears was nearly deafening.

The old hare leaned upon the port railing of the ship Dandelion's Delight, staring at the horizon. It was, he personally thought, a rather silly name for such a decrepit, creepy ship. Especially a decrepit, creepy ship captained by an otter with more scars on his flesh than words he could pronounce. He knew he shouldn't judge Babblebrook. It was just... the entirely wrong name for the poor otter. On the rare occasions he did try to get his rasping voice out, it was just to rant about the black vermin ship and the weasel captain that had nearly strangled him to death...

No, Dandelion's Delight and Captain Babblebrook had been in the wrong line when Fitting Names had been dealt out.

S. E. Pardon put these thoughts away. The journey would be over soon - there, through the misty rain, was the Black Arch Fort's docks. Within a few hours he would be inside its walls, maybe only slightly damp, and he wouldn't have to step paw on another seafaring vessel until Commander Duran and his lot had gotten back from... wherever they'd gone off to. It was only for a few weeks. He could handle it.

He missed his coat.

The hare snorted water out his whiskers and grumbled to himself as they came closer to the docks.

"I do say, if'n that scallybob levy's got even a speck'f dust on my mess jacket, oho, th'things his ears are goin' t'regret, wot!"

"Hhngrt," Babblebrook grunted, giving a brief, toothy grin. The otter patted S. E. on the shoulder and moved off to grunt more directions at his crew.

And the shouting he'd have to give his Long Patrol hares for being as the maggots in the bottom of a bowl of week-old skilly and duff, all huddled amidst ships clutching their stomachs...

"Captain Harry!" S. E. turned and faced his second in command, who was standing smartly under the eaves of the forecastle. "Rouse that sorry lot of long-eared feedbags, th'ones with th'footpaws on th'bottom. Get 'em topside and ship-shape f'r when we make dock."

A nearby nautical squirrel gave a hearty chuckle.

"Good one, sir! Hah, 'ship-shape'!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You mean you're Pardon, don'tcha, ahaha?"

S. E. stared at him stonily.

"No, I don't."

The squirrel stopped laughing.

"Er... well. I'll just be... carrying on, then?"

S. E. Pardon had heard about puns, much in the same way he'd heard about wolverines, giant snakes, tornadoes, and free verse poetry. None of it was any good.
Sergeant Enamel Pardon Posted ImagePosted ImageCan't keep my eyes from the circling sky
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I
...my other char's a mouse: Corporal Simon Flynn Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Teren Bocere
Member Avatar
Level Two Poster
[ *  * ]
If Sceo hadn't been such a rotten beast, Teren wouldn't be here. Naturally, they were a bit short-handed at the Fort. And the otter hadn't really been doing anything important.

Still, did they really have to send the shy and socially inept otter to welcome the temporary fort commander?

Teren shifted his grip in his staff and gulped nervously, blinking morosely out through the water dripping off his hood. He was wet. He was bored. The boat was late. He couldn't even paint because everything was soaked!

If he hadn't been such a kind, trusting, completely oblivious, beast, he would have suspected Sceo of being a bit fiendish.

Now... what should he say to the new one? What was his name again? Teren panicked a moment before he remembered that he was related to Enamel. Mr. Pardon, then? Oh wait, wasn't he some sort of officer? Oh dear...

Teren's expression grew positively pitiful. Wasn't there anyone else coming to help?

Oh Fates, there was the ship...

The otter waited, wet and morose, until he was able to disinguish a commander-like looking beast disembarking from the ship.

"Hallo," he started, far too quietly to hear. He miserably coughed and tried again, louder this time. "I want to welcome you, sir, to- Um, ah, Black Arch... Fort! Black Arch Fort. Commander Sceo sends her greetings and wishes that dinner would be- no, that wasn't it. Um. She has food."

He winced and wished heartily that he were somewhere else.

Avatar courtesy of the amazing Lady Admin.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Enamel Pardon
Member Avatar
Ruler of Specifics
[ *  *  *  * ]
S. E. Pardon gave the score of Long Patrol hares one last look-over. That is to say, he looked over them entirely, because no beast should have to witness such a sorry sight.

He sighed. They were all young, not much older than Enamel. For very many, this had been their first ship-ride, and it hadn't treated them well at all.

Twirling his whiskers into a fearsome mustache, Pardon marched up and down in front of the assembly, nodding to himself:

There was Stonefoot, Scuttlewig the Fifth, Meryl and Millie, Morescoff, Klippaw, Jaster... Tipper, Tapper, Tupper and Topper, the completely indistinguishable quartet; Pippel, Twabbo, Grassflat, Fontanesque, Tumguts the Round... Caperhat, Glosey, Jinky, and good old Captain Harry. Everybeast was accounted for, even if their lunches weren't.

"Right lads," he began. He paused. "And lasses. Right." He began again, stomping the deck with his large footpaws.

"We'll be h'arrivin' at th'Black h'Arch Fort in just a few minutes, so I want t'make one thing very clear t'h'all of you: every vermin in Mossflower that we don't have t'face, it's because they've all ready faced 'em! Got it? They h'are th'secondmost important h'institution next t'Salamandastron when it comes t'th'safety of h'everybeast in this land - first, if they had a badger lord as we do! 'Cos, lads, we're just hares. Perilous hares, one and all, but it's our nature! Those beasts in that fort are more than just hares; they're every species worth its fur. H'and every one of 'em h'isn't there because it's a family thing t'join a fightin' unit, or because it's wot's expected of 'em. They're there because they chose t'fight. And that thought scares me more than knowin' just how many hares h'are in Salamandastron, or how many traps and plans we have at home, or how far old badgery sort can throw a bleedin' rat.

"So when y'march up t'those gates, h'I don't want t'see th' bally whites of your eyes for all th'respect shinin' through at me! Th'first hare here t'insult one of 'em Fort beasts gets docked on this ship 'til we depart. Th'first hare t'ask about vittles, scoff, grub, tuck, or any manner of chow-munch will be fastin' for a week! This h'isn't Redwall, lads! This h'isn't a picnic! We're here t'do a job, and that's t'see that this fort's still standin' when Commander Swiftpike gets back! H'atten...shun! Fall iiiiiin... MARCH!"

Turning about stiffly, S. E. strode off the Dandelion's Delight and fought the urge to kiss the firm pier.

Aha, and their delegated greeting beast!

S. E. threw a salute at Teren as the otter welcomed him.

"I hope she's got a-bally-nough!" he said, when Teren had finished. "S. E. Pardon reportin' for duty, sah! Lead on t'th'fortplace, wot! And put some spine into it, lad! You're curlin' up like a ferret rollin' downhill! Don't y'know how t'stand at h'attention? Like this - "

And then S. E. glared, tilting his head forward so his eyes could be seen clear over his tiny spectacles.

Behind him, the Dandelion's Delight's mainmast groaned with the effort of straightening up, and if one stayed perfectly still... one could almost hear a distant roar of a far-off tsunami as the tectonic plates guiltily re-arranged themselves to more pleasing angles.

Then he waggled his ears, which rather ruined the effect.

"So! Where's this Commander Sceo right now?"
Sergeant Enamel Pardon Posted ImagePosted ImageCan't keep my eyes from the circling sky
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I
...my other char's a mouse: Corporal Simon Flynn Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Teren Bocere
Member Avatar
Level Two Poster
[ *  * ]
Teren goggled. And then, as the voice sent direction directly to his spine, bypassing the brain completely, he snapped into an attention pose. Staring desperatly straight ahead, he tried to wiggle around away from the piercing glare. While remaining at attention.

It was a very interesting feat of agility.

"Commander Sceo, sir!" Teren snapped out, agonized. "Er, up at the fort, sir! Preparing your arrival! I can't say as to the quantity of food, sir!"

And then, since it looked like he might be given The Look again, Teren gulped in a hasty breath and sidled away. "I shall escort you, sir!"

'Fates, this wasn't good. With a hoarde of ravenous hares behind him, /staring/ at him, probably, and that absolutely terrifying whateverhisnamewas...

It was probably to fastest trip to the fort Teren had ever made.

The gates were already open and ready for the new arrivals by the time they reached the structure. Teren could see beasts on the walls, looking for their approach. He grinned nervously and hoped Commander Sceo was nearby.

"There's Black Arch Fort, sir," he said. "Um." That being the extent of his tourguiding, he scuttled on towards the group of beasts standing in the gate, hoping this would end quickly.
Avatar courtesy of the amazing Lady Admin.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Enamel Pardon
Member Avatar
Ruler of Specifics
[ *  *  *  * ]
Secretly, S. E. approved. He just wasn't about to show it. If he'd learned anything from Thickstripe, it was that if you allowed even the slightest hint of approval, beasts thought their job was done, that it was good enough. And once they stop striving for perfection and acceptance, there's only one other direction to go...

S. E. remembered this place. He'd helped build it, seasons ago...

It was good to be back.

He was just a bit worried about this Commander Sceo. He'd never met her before, and it was just a bit rude not to show up in the flesh to welcome him. Even if the Fort was short-pawed, surely she could have made a brief appearance? What other business was she attending to that was more important? Thickstripe always made sure to greet his guests in person as soon as possible; he'd do his best to be there at the door if he knew they were coming.

The old hare shook his head. Not everybeast was like Thickstripe.

And not everybeast was coolheaded in command, either. His own days, taking care of things when his superiors hadn't been there, had not gone very well. S. E. was a far better second-in-command than a first. That was why he was still a mere Colonel.

Passing through the fort's entrance, he gave a salute to Teren.

"Thank you, sah. I think we c'n take it from 'ere, wot! Dinin' hall's just... just..."

S. E. glanced around.

"My, this place is bloomin' fancy! Last time I wos 'ere, th'dinin' hall wos just a camp-out in th'courtyard..."
Sergeant Enamel Pardon Posted ImagePosted ImageCan't keep my eyes from the circling sky
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I
...my other char's a mouse: Corporal Simon Flynn Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Sceotend Russet
Member Avatar


What Teren had said had been true. The immediate reason for the North Tower Commander not being on the beach to greet the new arrivals was indeed that she was preparing for the arrival. The other, rather larger but not quite so obvious reason was that she had gone to Redwall for the wedding, but while all the others had stayed, she had gone and then come back double quick.

She had just arrived herself the night before, to the rather unpleasant realization that nothing was quite as ready as it should be, drat it all!

"Oh Fates! 'S a legion of hares we're expecting, not average woodlanders! You'll need more than twice the normal amount of food!"

"What do you mean we're using the other guest quarters for storage?"

"Where's your uniform, Guard? Get to your barracks and polish up before I drag you there by your mousy little tail! I don't care how muddy it is!"

These, and other such phrases had been bounding back and forth through the fort all day long with increasing frenzy. And then the call had come that the Salamandastron ship was actually in sight. Sceotend (the beast who had been shouting every single one of the previously mentioned orders) suddenly became very tempted to strangle herself with her own fluffy, dripping tail.

Instead, she sent Teren. She had to trick him into doing it, too. The squirrel grinned in a rather disturbing fashion. It really wouldn't be that long before he painted her as a flower or some other defenseless thing.

And then everything was prepared.

The North Tower Commander, in her full uniform, marched out to the rainy courtyard and smartly saluted Colonel Pardon.

"Good day, Colonel, and welcome to Black Arch Fort. My apologies for not greeting you sooner, certain arrangements had to be made. If you'd come inside, I believe dinner is about to be served."

Such formality came very near to making Sceo laugh at herself. She sounded rather ridiculous. But fortunately, she thought better of it.
Posted Image

Is most definitely one to argue.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Enamel Pardon
Member Avatar
Ruler of Specifics
[ *  *  *  * ]
S. E. stiffened, saluted sharply at the soggy squirrel, Sceo.*

"Apology accepted, Cammandah! And quite understandable, wot. Dinner!" Suddenly, the soaked hare smiled - something scary, thanks to his scars.** "You lot sure know how t'welcome th'Long Patrol, eh? Either that, or we know when t'arrive... Lead on, then, and we'll do h'our best t'follow."

S.E. turned and eyed the group of hares. Yhey could almost see, reflected in his small glasses, the words: That means we walk behind her, no trampling allowed.

As they made their way to the dining hall (studiously ignoring a peg-legged hedgehog that burst out of the West Tower and began dancing around in circles in the rain, apparently on fire), S. E. introduced the whole lot of them, rattling off their names at a pace most would find too quick to follow. It wasn't like anybeast was capable of getting it all in one go anyhow. He himself still had to get a good look at the ribbons affixed to their arms, each a different colour, to tell them apart. S. E. was much better with colours than faces.

"...but y'can just call 'em 'C'mere, You' for short," he finished.

~ ~ ~

Enamel Pardon was not a happy hare. If, at any point along the path to the Fort, he came across a kindly old molewife giving out free scones to anybeast "willing to offer just a smile in return", it was likely he might've given her a fierce bop 'twixt the ears if he had the time. If he could find them.

Did moles have ears?

This sudden switching in his train of thought nearly sent him stumbling in the rain, but he recovered and lowered his head further for better airflow. He would've gone on all fours, but after what he'd seen, he was in no mood to let go of his spear.

He tried to calm himself. Torsten and the others would be fine, he chanted over and over inside his head. He just had to get the message to the Fort, and then everything would be all right. Nobeast was going to die. Nobeast was going... to die...

But this far south... at least an hour, maybe two away from the fort...

Nobeast was going to die!

... his pawprints dissolved quickly in the rain, the blood mulched into the mud as if it had never been there at all.

~ ~ ~
* I'm sorry.

** I'm so, so sorry.
Edited by Enamel Pardon, Jul 9 2008, 07:55 AM.
Sergeant Enamel Pardon Posted ImagePosted ImageCan't keep my eyes from the circling sky
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I
...my other char's a mouse: Corporal Simon Flynn Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Teren Bocere
Member Avatar
Level Two Poster
[ *  * ]
Teren heaved a sigh of complete and total relief as Sceo showed up on the scene. His petrification dissolved enough for him to do a modified scuttle until he was around back of the group, lurking with a haunted air about him. So many strangers!

Good for Sceo. Let her deal with them. Teren felt a lingering sense of grudge towards the squirrel, but his innate good-nature (and absent-mindedness) didn't allow it to stay for long.

Neither did he.

As the crowd clustered in the courtyard, chatting and introducing everyone and going into raptures over the food, Teren slipped back out the gate, taking a deep breath. Free! He did feel a little guilty- with them being short handed, Sceo would probably need him for something. But surely he could have a little time!

"Teren!" The voice was more of a bellow than a call. Teren twitched slightly and gave a longsuffering sigh. "Come along, we're going to escort these brave hares to dinner!"

"Yes, Commander Sceo!"
Avatar courtesy of the amazing Lady Admin.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Enamel Pardon
Member Avatar
Ruler of Specifics
[ *  *  *  * ]
It didn't take long at all to get the score of Long Patrol hares to the dining hall, and it certainly took them a lot shorter to get seated. Even S.E. paused and stood back from the rush, surprise on his face. The wonders of firm ground on the appetite...

He thought briefly of joining them, then decided against it. They'd been shouted out of their beds back in Salamandastron, shouted into uniform, shouted onto the ship, shouted across the ocean, shouted off the ship... They did not need to be shouted to finish dinner. It would happen soon enough without his help.

Instead, he followed Sceotend to the Commander's table.

There was an air of... what was it? Unease? S.E. tried not to fidget. It was the same feeling he got every time he looked through a spyglass at smudges on the horizon. It was the silence of everybeast waiting to be told what to do. It wasn't just his squad, either - the cooks and servers, even the other fortbeasts; all seemed to be looking towards he and Sceo.

The hare glanced at her, then stood up.

He cleared his throat.

Then: "Wot in th'name'f Brocktree's ghost is takin' you lot so long t'stuff your collective faces? Is this dinner or a bloomin' funeral, wot? I want two pounds'f salad on my fork before I can sit my bob jolly-well down again!"

~ ~ ~

All the shock and fear faded, his final burst of adrenaline diminished into a dull panic, and Enamel fell.

Funny, he thought as he tried not to breath in the mud, always thought I'd die jumping off a roof with pillows glued to my arms...

He couldn't hear anything. Between the pounding of the rain on his gangly, drooping ears and the pounding of his own heart, everything was a dull, pointless roar; it felt more quiet than plain silence.

After a few minutes, in which he realised with disappointment that he must be still alive, he tried to stand. No good.

With a cry of sheer angry desperation, he tore at his jerkin with his teeth, ripping a piece off. Curling his legs towards him, he tenderly wrapped the makeshift bandage around the arrow's shaft.

He didn't know if he was still crying or not. Everything was too wet.

Using his spear as a crutch, he managed to get going again, although running was quite clearly not a picture. His head swam sickeningly along with the trees and he nearly threw up - or maybe he did and he just didn't notice it.

But this bend in the road here - hah! It always fooled him, hiding the inn like that...

His paws fumbled at the door. It opened, but no hare came in.

Enamel had finally passed out in the rain.
Edited by Enamel Pardon, Jul 19 2008, 07:39 AM.
Sergeant Enamel Pardon Posted ImagePosted ImageCan't keep my eyes from the circling sky
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit, I
...my other char's a mouse: Corporal Simon Flynn Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Sceotend Russet
Member Avatar


Oh -Fates-!

Colonel Pardon's bellowed orders had, of course, their desired effect on the occupants of the room. That is, every single beast started filling their plates (if they weren't already full) and then conveying the foodstuffs to their mouths in rapid precision. It also made Sceo's ears flick bolt upright where they remained for some time, looking slightly floofier than was normal.

And then she grinned, and promptly mourned the fact that her previous travels had never taken her down to Salamandastron.

"I hope the food's to your liking, Colonel? And I'm terribly sorry your nephew isn't here to greet you. He and some of the others from the South Tower were out to the South, and they haven't gotten back yet."

Sceo hmphed quietly at her words. They probably should have been back by now. Then again, with this rain, it was hardly surprising that they weren't.
Posted Image

Is most definitely one to argue.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Archives · Next Topic »
Add Reply