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| A Tavern Arrival; following rumors of a fort..... | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 4 2008, 02:39 PM (341 Views) | |
| Ariel Oceantear | Sep 4 2008, 02:39 PM Post #1 |
Shipwright
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It was late afternoon, nearly dusk. It had been another long day, in a series of long days, part of a series of long weeks. Ever since leaving her ship behind, the days had been slow and the going arduous. Thick scrub brush made for a difficult trek, even when one traveled light. Ariel was headed toward a small building. The previous evening, she'd spotted a flickering glow in the distance, and out of curiousity she'd been making her way toward it. Her provisions were almost gone and her muscles ached. Overland travel was certainly not enjoyable, in any sense of the word. At any rate, she'd heard tales of a Fort located in the near vicinity. Which brought up her raging internal dillema. Years (literally) had passed since she'd called any place with four walls 'home'. The thought of living a structured, regimented life made her apprehensive. And she had no desire to try and replace what she'd lost. Ever. Memories were more bitter than sweet, and she had firmly resolved to move on with her life. However..... she also felt a deep longing for what she remembered. A warm crackling fire in a banquet hall, the clatter and shuffling of countless footpaws, enjoying the passage of seasons in the company of friends, and watching the young clumsy soldiers grow into themselves and do their commanders proud. And, above all else, she craved companionship and the type of comradery that can only be found in the company of like-minded individuals. And where better to find that than a remote, northern Fort? Rumors had reached her ears of this outpost, and whether she would admit it to herself or not, they were tempting. Her current traveling companion had wandered off earlier in the day, and she expected he would catch up with her sooner or later. Lost in thought, Ariel found herself standing on the doorstep of what she came to recognize as a tavern of sorts. Maybe even an inn, judging by the size of it.... appetizing scents drifted out from under the door, and the mumble of voices from within was all too tempting. Fighting one last urge to turn around and head south again, she took a deep breath and swung the door open. A comfortable warmth clung to the inside of the room. The sea otter's eyes flickered around the room, taking in several creatures seated here and there. A quick glance revealed that most individuals did travel armed, and their military dress hinted at a nearby establishment. Ariel chose a small table near the back of the room. With a silent sigh of relief, she swung her traveling pack off of her shoulders, and rested her steel harpoon against the wall. Ariel sank greatfully into a chair, and pushed her dark blue hood back, revealing her tan furred face to the inn. A heavy blue cloak hung around her shoulders, fastened at her throat with a silver clasp. Her cream tunic underneath was simple, and the embroidered insignia was illegible and faded. Thick seaboots were laced nearly to her waist, and several corsair-style earrings were her only other adornment. She nodded to those who glanced her way, and deeply inhaled the scents and mood of the tavern. Ariel was snapped out of her reverie by a small rather twisted looking squirrel matron. Clearly the operator of this tavern, she scuttled up to the oak table and thunked a large mug of ale down onto its surface directly in front of the otter. Some of the drink sloshed over the side of the mug and onto Ariel's lap, but Burku didn't notice. "Aha, you have the looks of a beastie who could use a good waterin'!" Burku declared with good-natured zest. "Try this'n on fer size, it's a fresh autumn wheat." Burku gave Ariel what she intended to be a warm, welcoming smile. With her wizened features and eyepatch, it came off as more of a grimace. However, her intentions were obviously for the best. Ariel nodded and said simply, "Aye, 's been a while." She fished several coins out of her pocket and laid them out on the table. Burku winked at her and hustled off to the nearest table, where an otter and a young hare were conversing. Ariel took a long drink from the ceramic mug, enjoying the cold froth in her whiskers. She eyed the room with growing curiousity. For better or for worse, she'd returned to civilization. |
 Any ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. | |
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| Rook Scarbin | Sep 6 2008, 12:12 AM Post #2 |
Level One Poster
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There was tremor in the wind, or perhaps it was the cold working it's way down his back. In his time away, Rook had forgotten just how the Northlands could bite a beast, right down to the marrow in the early evening. He paused, fingering the clasp of the faded navy cloak that perched across his shoulders; thin in the cape and frayed near the hemming, it was the last remnant of Ruddler he still owned. Despite the fact that it offered little protection from the elements, he still kept it tied most days. The weathered, mud-speckled fabric held woven within it's threadwork a lifetime of memories he couldn't bare to part with. Three days prior to arriving (and nearly a week's worth of footfalls out from the badger mountain Salamadastron), Rook had stopped and turned back to regard the compass in his paw with a disdainful sort of look. Like nearly all his possessions, it had weathered the salty spray of countless excursions, a glimmering silver trinket when he'd first purchased it. Now the corroded face and milky glass hid a crooked needle that spun with a drunken wobble. Due north.... He'd watched that needle with a grimace all the way up, fixed in place and seeming, at times, to sweep him along like a scolding finger might point a child in the direction of some dire punishment. At times he hated the compass for not turning against the magnet in it's belly to guide him home instead. Indifferent though it was, it still belonged to him, a faithful toy when he was assured of his own purpose. Now, each step father up the coast found the otter reminding himself that he was not a fool for giving up the stability and comfort of his adopted home, Redwall Abbey. The compass was mocking in it's strict adherence to natural law while he needed the daily reminder that this journey would set him right once and for all. Due north.... In three days he'd made the most of what remained of his resolve, resting very little and eating as he walked. On the third day, with his destination in sight he'd taken the compass from his pocket and threw it down onto the beach for the waves to gobble. It stuck itself in the sand and, in an instant, was gone, pulled back by frothy, cobalt colored fingers that rushed to join the heaving ocean. Now there was only himself to question. Beyond the impressive gates of Black Arch Fort, Rook was struck with an overwhelming sense of having been there before, the kind of potent deja vu reserved especially for places. Like Ruddler in the last days of the fort, there seemed to be only a skeleton force at work inside the walls of the place. He was a little worried by that. Seeing every beast in uniform, however, calmed him, even if a majority of them seemed a little verdant. Across the grounds a tavern building caught his eye, reminding Rook that he'd been drinking stale rainwater for most of the trek up. The image of a sweet and frosty ale popped into his head, clear as though it were sitting in his lap; the thought caused his lower lip to tremble a little and he nearly dropped his haversack as he shuffled for the door, trying not to appear too eager. Inside it was warm despite the beads of moisture his fur had collected from the damp air. His chill receded with the first step forward, his ears perking to the low din of the place, the indistinct chatter that warmed as well as the cheery fire that burned in the belly of a nearby stove. Slicking water from his arms, he brushed back the fur that hid a silvery collection of scars etched up his forearms, pulled back the hood of his cloak and walked to the wood burner, relaxing in the shimmering heat that radiated from it's cast iron body. |
| Dictius Te Necare | |
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| Ariel Oceantear | Sep 6 2008, 12:42 PM Post #3 |
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Shipwright
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Rook’s entry did not go unnoticed. It’d been many seasons since they first met, but the otter was unmistakable. Ariel shifted in her chair, and her gaze followed him across the room. They’d spent years working together, sailing together, and watching the seasons pass. It was only a matter of time, she figured, before their paths crossed again, and it was a welcome twist of fate. Just as Ariel opened her mouth to catch Rook’s attention, Burku intercepted. “Chilly, chilly chilly! We’ll have to thaw out yer hide, silly riverdog.” In her (surprisingly quick) shuffling gait, Burku grabbed a log from a nearby pile, clucking her tongue as she leaned past the otter. The squirrel swung open the door to the woodburner and violently chucked the oversized oak log inside. It crunched down onto the burning coals and sent sparks and bits of ash flying left and right. A large ember landed squarely on her nose, and she sneezed, with a vengeance, directly in Rook’s face. Ariel stifled a grin. He seemed to attract the unluckiest situations. She raised her mug and downed the last swallow of ale. Tasty, indeed…. the innkeeper knew her trade. She set the empty mug down on the table and stood up, attempting to catch Rook’s eye. |
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Any ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. | |
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| Rook Scarbin | Sep 6 2008, 07:01 PM Post #4 |
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Level One Poster
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Snapped from his momentary reverie by the sudden explosion of saliva, Rook whipped back and very nearly tumbled over his own tail, catching himself between Ariel’s table and a neighbor’s chair. The hare it belonged to shot him a scowl, which Rook returned before straightening up to try and recover some dignity. He brushed his cheek with the back of his paw and turned towards the door with a stately flip of his cape. He probably would have left if not for the sneaking suspicion that he’d amused the female otter who stood diagonally from him, now just a few feet away. Glancing back to regard her presence, he was immediately struck by her appearance, his lips stretching into a grin that dimpled his scarred cheeks. “Ariel? Ariel Oceantear?!?” It was her! She who’d once dubbed him ‘Rookashadow’ and emptied the contents of her boots (sand and slime from the ocean floor) onto his poor head. Regardless of how she’d picked on him, seeing her now made the otter forget all about having been assaulted with squirrel mucus. In his glee he very nearly hopped the table, crashing through it instead and knocking her empty mug to the floor. It shattered as the table toppled over and he kicked the glass around in his haste to sweep his longtime companion into a crushing hug. “Figures! I leave Ruddler and don’t see a lick of trouble for years, but my first day back in a room with you and I get my face peppered with barkeep spit. You always were bad luck, you crusty grouch!” Lifting her off the floor, he spun once and deposited her back in her boots before holding her out at arm’s length to get a better look. “Ah, you’re still ugly. Thanks be to Dark Forest that some things will never change!” |
| Dictius Te Necare | |
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| Ariel Oceantear | Sep 7 2008, 12:10 PM Post #5 |
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Shipwright
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A broad grin stretched across Ariel's face as she was swung violently in circles. Much of her discomfort at being in a foreign location evaporated. When Rook planted her firmly back on her feet, she put her paws on his shoulders and held him at arms' length, still beaming. "Aye, 'tis me! Th'one and only. You don't look much different either.... maybe a lil' shabbier, greywhiskers. And still as graceful as ever. 'Ave a seat before y'hurt yourself!" The words on her tongue felt strange, and after traveling so long in solitude her voice sounded strange, even to her. Ariel knelt over to gather the broken shards of mug. The last thing she needed was an angry squirrel. As she straightened back up, she caught a glimpse of another familiar otter, across the inn. The last thing she'd ever expected (though she'd secretly hoped) was to run across her old friends and comrades. This was surely too much to hope for, several of them in one place. She flicked her eyes in the direction of the celebratory ruckus as she leaned across the table to offer Rook a clean cloth napkin. "'ey Rook.... 's that who I think it is?" |
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Any ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. | |
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| Rook Scarbin | Sep 7 2008, 08:11 PM Post #6 |
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Level One Poster
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Cheered further by her receptivity, he snatched the napkin out of the air and rubbed clean his face before stooping to help his friend gather the bits of broken glass scattered about the floor. "Greywhiskers, indeed! You should've seen me last year. After leaving the Northlands, I made my way from stop to stop until I happened upon a place called Redwall. Lovely it was, but did they ever feed me! I've never had such vittles, I'll tell you. I had to walk off quite a stomach before showing my face around here." As he joked, he watched Ariel gather the glass with a smile that tipped the scale towards incredulity. Being with her again brought him back to the first time he'd met the stoic female, just a recruit with little notion of where he fit in the bustle of an active Ruddler; a cog without a clock, as it were. To say she'd taken him under her wing would have been an out and out lie. Rather, she busted his tail until he was very nearly afraid of being dangled off the side of her ship for fish bait. Gradually though, he began to understand her method; she'd been forcing him into duties that he'd been wary of. Whether he sank or swam was entirely up to him. As a result, he learned very little in a short amount of time, thanks to her uncompromising approach. To her, Rook still felt he owed a debt. With any luck, their time at the fort would provide him the chance to make amends. Her words snapped him back to the present and he twisted around to see who she meant, squinting. "I'm not sure. It could be..." |
| Dictius Te Necare | |
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| Ariel Oceantear | Sep 8 2008, 11:36 AM Post #7 |
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Shipwright
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"Redwall, y'say." She often felt that she was the only (semi) civilized individual who'd never once set paw inside its fabled walls. It was legend, of course, but Camp Willow was the closest she'd ever gotten. Rook's voice betrayed some emotion for the Abbey, and Ariel smiled. She felt immensely relieved that his travels had brought him somewhere warm and peaceful. It wasn't surprising, either - he had much more of a 'homebody' streak than she, no doubt the source of his extremely loyal nature. She felt a pang of guilt for indirectly causing his departure from his former home, but she stomped that thought out quickly before it could overwhelm her and ruin the mood. "Sounds like th'seasons've been good t'you, mister Scarbin. I'm half surprised you don't 'ave a score of dibbuns trailin' round in your wake! Redwall must've been kind t'you, I'm 'alf surprised you left!. Don't know if I'd ever fit in there, but it does sound beautiful." Despite the fact that he was several years her senior, she'd watched Rook develop from an inexperienced and introverted deckhand to a confident leader, captaining one of her fleet's ships. Whether or not Rook held the early seasons against her was something yet to be seen. Rook squinted at the distant table. "I'm not sure. It could be..." Ariel interrupted. "Roe. Roe Sungold. She was on your 'Flyer. A Commodore." It was almost disturbing how accurate certain details were to her, even years after they'd ceased to matter. Well, technically, anyway. Ariel felt an immense surge of pride. Clearly the otter had done well, judging by her apparel and the way she carried herself. She watched Roe for a minute or two, lost in thought. This was even better than she could've hoped for; certainly Roe would be able to let her know if this fort she'd arrived at had a place for her to stay a while. Particularly if they had any need of watercraft..... "Think we'd best wait 'till their party's over afore we go interrupt?" |
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Any ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. | |
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| Rook Scarbin | Sep 8 2008, 01:35 PM Post #8 |
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Level One Poster
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To hear Ariel mention having expected to see him with a crop of dibbuns clustered around his legs made Rook laugh with a volume that very nearly shook the rafters of the tavern. His eyes brimmed with tears and his shoulders shook, needing a full minute or two to regain his composure. After he'd finished and wiped his cheeks, he set their table back in place and pulled a chair up while encouraging her to do the same. "I told the last ottermaid who struck my fancy that I'd only ever be this good looking and she ran for the hills! HA! Listen, I may have been a rouge in Ruddler, but it seems I'll only ever be married to my blades. That's the whole reason I'm here! Redwall is at peace, which, if I may speak frankly, is a tad boring. Something inside me is itching for one more good fight." He rapped his knuckles on the table, partly to punctuate his enthusiasm and partly to signal the barkeep. She didn't seem to appreciate that very much, her withering glance back at the pair causing Rook to shrink in his seat. He mumbled something incoherent and dug into his cloak, producing a pawful of coins which jangled in his fist like tiny bells. This seemed to sweeten Burku's mood. She vanished behind the bar and came back with a pitcher and two mugs of frosty apple cider. Rook opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, leaning over him to snatch the silver from between his fingers. "Youssa' keep bringin' coins like deez ah'n ye' kin break all tha' dishes ye' want, ruddertails." Jamming his thumb against his nose, Rook waggled his fingers at her back as she returned to her post, his eyes crossed while he whistled a mocking tune. The squirrel ignored him. "Bah, let them have their fun. We'll have our own little party and catch Roe when she's not so busy." |
| Dictius Te Necare | |
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| Teltoli Riverbuck | Sep 8 2008, 05:36 PM Post #9 |
Gatekeeper
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The door to the bar opened and closed, emitting a particular hare. Now, this particular hare had been a beast of the roads for the past few seasons. Though he had come to call Black Arch his new home, he had not been able to stay. This time though...this time would be different. Teltoli had found it hard to settle down after his exodus from Ruddler. His footpaws had carried to destinations far and wide. He felt like he was searching, ever searching, for something to hold onto and call home. His last time in this bar had put him face to face with Riala Goldentail. She was not here now but the conversation he had shared with her lingered in his mind. So much hurt and sorrow. Indeed too much for one beast to share. The friendly hare had tried to take some of her hurt upon himself. To no avail. When he left, she was still lost in a pool of pain and memories. Teltoli had since shaken the feelings off. He was friendly and good hearted by nature. Nothing could keep him down for too long. "Funny..." the hare had mused.. "That the further you go away from your home and friends they always seem to track you down." He smiled. "Or perhaps yer just good at finding them." This was what went through the ruddy hare's mind as he opened the door to the bar. As he stepped inside the warm air blasted the cold autum breeze away from him. He took off his outer cloak and wrapped it over one arm. Moving into the tavern he watched as logs were put on the fire. His dark, sparkling eyes took in every beast present... The hare almost chocked when he saw who was in the tavern. A tingle went down his spine as old memories flooded anew. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be! Could it? He tried to stay calm and made his way towards the pair of otters. Once he was close enough his cleared his throat and waggled his ears. He could not help a smile growing on his features. It was them! He knew it without even speaking to them! "Ariel Oceantear! Rook Scarbin! Is that really you? Or have I died and ended up back at bally 'ol Ruddlah?" |
Teltoli Rifflappin Riverbuck  South Tower Commander and official Gate Keeper of Black Arch Fort Rayden Sharptalon South Tower Air Division Captain | |
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| Ariel Oceantear | Sep 9 2008, 08:53 AM Post #10 |
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Shipwright
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Ariel took a seat on the other wooden chair Rook offered, and took a hearty drink from the mug of cider. And then she nearly choked on it as she noticed a very familiar hare stroll through the door. Teltoli Riverbuck, who'd served as Gatekeeper and even standing Drill Sergeant. A tireless and eternally cheerful campaigner, excellent on the sparring grounds or the battlefield. He looked exactly as she rememberd him, when they'd parted ways not so very far from here. Seeing him reminded her of Sandfur, Mack, Riala, Triona, and so very many others. This was starting to get almost absurd! And yet, maybe this was exactly what she'd been searching for..... each face she recognized, real, and full of life, chipped away at the guilt and worry she'd been carrying around for years. "Turn around, Rook. We 'ave more company," she said as she rose to her feet, an even bigger smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. |
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Any ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. | |
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5:57 AM Nov 29
