From Shore to Shore [Site Plot pt. III]

[Shard Prime]

I've been at this for like twenty minutes and still can't get it right. I'm pretty ill-suited for writing beginning posts, it seems. >_> If you want to give it a go, go ahead. xD; I'll get back to it later today.

---

Shard stared out across the sea, arms crossed over his chest. It was yet another beautiful day, though the weather defied the looming shadow of duty that the squirrel knew he had to fulfill. He absentmindedly tapped a foot to a nonexistent beat as he considered the past several days.
The initial mission, to find the missing messengers from Aerik, Shard’s birthplace, had gone as most had expected it to; they were dead—killed and looted by pirates. The remains of their ship had washed up far southwest from Mossflower, and it took a couple of weeks just to even get that information. Only one of the bodies was found, and it showed telltale slash and stab wounds.
Now the Guardians and volunteers from the surrounding lands were all gathered and ready for their long voyage across the sea. They were not many—A couple of hundred, and only three ships, but they were warriors one and all, skilled and ready for what was to come, whatever it may be.
Shard had one last obligation before they set off… A final speech. One to wipe any fear or nervousness from the hearts of his comrades, and instill within them that extra touch of bravery and sureness.
He really wasn’t looking forward to it.

---

“Shard?”
The squirrel knew that voice, but nearly jumped out of his shoes when it sounded just behind him; it was Nido. He spun around, unsetting his jaw as if he were not still contemplating the grim possibilities of the mission ahead. “Yes?” he quickly replied. Nido knew he had caught his friend off-guard.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything, but it’s time; everyone’s waiting for you.” Shard nodded solemnly at the giant hare and looked back over his shoulder to the sea. “Tell them I’ll be there momentarily.” The hare nodded knowingly and paced off, back to the other end of the ship, where the Guardians of Mossflower were waiting on the sand below for one of their commanders to appear.

[Crystal M. V. Rosepaw]

ooc; I can roll with this. I'll try to make Crys so that any absence would make sense. :3 Also, excuse the random not-really-my-character-but-I'm-using-her thing going on. Also, Shard, I'm going to act like your character sorta half knew about what went on with Crys.

bic;

Crystal's green eyes bulged, her claws grimly gripping the sandy earth below them. The vixen coughed again, but all of her stomach's megar contents were long gone. The pain of illness filled her bones, making her ache in places she'd nearly forgotten she had. Her typically luminescent orbs were dull now, and her world seemed to spin frantically as she hoisted herself to her feet again woozily. She spat bile-tasting saliva into the waters near her, a small snarl of annoyance in her throat. The tiny sound made her wounded throat screech in agony.

As she flinched slightly, the mouse beside her flicked her tail worriedly. Mary was the mouse's name (she was named after Marie Blue-eyes, but her mother couldn't name the original's name) and she was healer in the Western Settlement. This fact was the simple reason she stood with the War Commander today.

While the Guardians were gathering information on the murders, Crystal had vanished, using her more... shady sources. Being a fox, she was the typical vermin, and, once masked a bit, she could loosen most any pirate's tongue. Her undercover work had nearly gotten her to the point in two days work rather than a month's, but she had one nearly fatal setback. She had almost pinned the pirates that were deemed responsible, but had become lax in her typical cynical ways.

As she finished a glass of water, the vixen quickly realized something was amiss - no water should sting the throat. Poison! Her minor knowledge of medicine forgotten, she did what any sensible creature would - immediately, the vixen forced herself to vomit. This was enough to save her life, but she crumbled to the floor a few moments later. For the entire while her precious Guardians searched, the few kind healers in the Settlement housed the War Commander and tended to her illness.

Only a day ago was the vixen given pass to leave the town, and only if she bought Mary along - anyone with sense could sense that something bad would happen if they were to lose a War Commander. The mouse held a pack of herbs close at hand, but there was nothing she could do for the vixen if her stomach refused to hold anything.

"I feel as though I'm going to die," Crystal rasped, scrubbing a paw to her mouth. It was apparent from a first look she wasn't well. Instead of any of her typical dresses, she was dressed very simply. Her attire consisted of a gray tunic, a pair of black breeches, and a thick black cloak. The dark colors were to preserve any warmth the unfriendly sun gave, as her fever made sure she felt much colder than she should be.

"My apologies, War Commander," Mary squeaked back, true remorse in her tone. "I cannot give you any herbs right now, however, for fear of your body rejecting them." The blue dress and white smock she wore emphasized the warm caramel color of her fur and her nearly black eyes. The maid curtsied, still feeling awkward that she was so close to such a revered beast.

"Not your fault," Crystal said, a bit more spark in her voice than a moment before. Finally, she would see her Guardians again!

"Is there anything else I can do to aid you today, ma'am?"

"Actually, yes," the vixen replied, sounding a bit cheerful. "Do not act as if you are my nurse. This is a show of power. None but Shard are to know I am ill." The vixen produced a knife from a pocket in her cloak, suprising the mouse. The tiny creature jumped back, eyes wide. "Silly girl, I'm not going to stab you. Here, take my knife. I want you to blend into the crowd. Only come to my aid if I truly need it. None must know I am ill."

"I understand, War Commander," Mary said, clutching the hilt of the knife a bit oddly. Crystal made a disapproving sound under her breath and situated the mouse's paws.

"Let's go now; we need to talk to Shard. Fetch my bag from over there. I have preparations to make."

---

It was mere minutes before the gathering was set to take place, three hours since Crystal's last attack. The vixen had gourged herself on herbs, washed quickly in the salty ocean water (this was mostly to wash away the scent of sickness), and strapped on her weapons, along with some other things.

"You look... Quite frightening, War Commander Rosepaw," Mary said in quiet awe. The shell of a creature she had seen for the past month was gone. In front of her was the beast people spoke of loudly in her home town.

"I hope I do indeed," Crystal said quietly, her throat feeling a bit better now. The pair strode down the beach, stopping a good distance from the boat. "Go ahead of me a ways," the crafty fox said quietly. The mouse nodded and flounced ahead, the knife sheathed at her side flopping. Hopefully her inexperience wasn't too noticeable once she stood in a crowd.

She waited about a minute, then began her slow, measured stride the the ship. The broadsword on her back pounded, the black cloak swirling behind her like some archangel's wings. Instead of her dress of wine red, she instead wore a long tabard of dark forest green and gold. Her thighs were covered in cream bandages, allowing the vixen completely unhindered movement of all of her limbs. The hood of her cloak was up, masking her face in it's shadows. Her face was thin, it's edges as sharp a skinning knife.

The most fearsome of all was her eyes - the pure hunger for vengeance and reconcile made them burn in her skull like twin fires. Today was then day she set this into motion.

The vixen padded her way up the boards onto the deck of the ship. Coolly, the fox turned her head, looking for Shard, but not too hard. Not seeing him, she then repeaed the gesture, this time for Mary. The tiny mouse stood in the middle of the group, large eyes sparkling. Good girl, Crystal thought.

Instead of speaking then, the vixen made her way to the head of the group and simply stood, just as Nido came out from the ship's cabin. Soon, Shard would appear and this would all begin. She knew she had to be here - speeches were not exactly Shard's specialty.

[Scratchfur Blackleg]

OOC: Hey. Sorry for my absence over the past few days. I'm getting ready for a 4 day exercise and things have been hectic. I'll try to be as active as possible, but after the 27th, things could get sketchy.

BIC: Squinting towards the sea from his standing point on the beach, Scratchfur looked towards the group of Guardians and ships that were preparing for some sort of adventure. Caught up in his thoughts, the rat began to realize that it had been quite the long time since he had seen the rest of the crew from the Guardians. Ever since he sailed off on some apparently useless and misguided adventure with some merchants, nothing seemed to have sat right in his mind. While he did appreciate being at sea again after being land locked in Mossflower, the company did not add to the pleasant atmosphere which he sought.

No less than a week into the voyage did he realize the err of his choice when the captain of the ship decided that it was 'bad' luck to be allowing a rat the freedom of roaming the ship's entirety. In less than a day, he was confined to the lower decks, and was given the mediocre tasks which other sea ranging beasts considered fit for slaves, or worse. Hence, it was no surprise that when the ship made its first stop for the restocking of stores that Scratchfur secretly made his way off the ship and stayed back at a port in some obscure part of the ocean. However, he did not make the mistake of leaving without any 'souvenirs', which would be helpful in keeping him fed and, ultimately leading him back to a familiar port. Needless to say, things began to brighten up after that. After catching a ride back to the mainland with some traders, Scratchfur used his limited land skills, and maybe some outside help along the way, to navigate safely back to the Guardians outpost.

Shaking his thoughts back to the present, Scratchfur repositioned the large hat on his head, took one last swig of some drink that he had brought with him in a travel flagon, and began to take the last legs of his journey towards the Flagship where he had learned that Shard, leader of the Guardians at this point, was preparing to give a final speech before the rest of the group set off on what Scratch thought was a sort of revenge bout. Having missed most of the news due to his lack of presence, he shrugged and decided to take everything in stride and learn as much as possible about what had happened, what was going on presently and what was going to be happening after the speech.

[Shard Prime]

OOC: Ahh, there was a reason this was entitled "Draft" and stuck in the general board. o.o; But alrighty. Working on a post now.

Also, forgive me for spending three paragraphs describing clothing; I forgot to do it in the original post, because I suck. <_<

---

BIC:

You're somewhere out there... Shard's emerald eyes scanned the distant, blue horizon one last time, as if actually searching for something. And I intend to find you... And indeed, to take your life if necessary. He blinked several times as a sudden salty breeze assailed his face. He knew that he could not be sucked into his thoughts again; he had obligations to fulfill. even more so, since Crystal was nowhere to be found at the moment.

Over the past several nights, his dreams had been haunted by a shadowed figure, one he knew not to be the king of Aerik, sitting on the rightful king's throne. Shard was not overly superstitious, but he knew that that could indeed be a nightmare come true by the time they reached their destination. The leader of this dark, occult army assailing the squirrel's birthplace would likely have to be done away with before this mess could clear up.

The young War Commander turned from the sea and uncrossed his arms. He briefly stretched his stiff limbs. Before he started off though, he took a moment to regard himself. He was clad in a very light gray vest, left open to allow the sea breeze to pass through his exposed torso; if one looked closely, it would become apparent that the vest was not designed to be closed at all. On his arms he wore mismatched bracers; the right one was rather plain and covered only wrist and forearm, but the left one was ribbed and included an elbow joint. They obviously were created as a pair, however, as they shared similar characteristics and seemed to be made by the same person.

Loose white trousers were tied around his waist by a black sash, and tied similarly to his ankles to prevent them from flowing too much; they were made from a light yet tough material to allow freedom of movement during combat. On either side of his great, busy tail was a short, curved machete-like sword of the type the squirrel had come to favor over the years, though he was not as good with two blades as he was with one. The black-bladed one on his right was crafted for him by a close friend, and the other was a family heirloom. Shard smiled to himself when he thought about the fact that this sword was going "home" again.

He would have worn his bow and quiver, but he thought it might be too much. After all, his outfit was chosen for both practicality and show. His clothing, billowing slightly in the wind, left exposed the hard-muscled areas of his torso and arms uncommon in squirrels.

"Bah, I'm slipping into my thoughts again. Duties," he mused aloud, and pointedly strode around the cabin to the other side of the ship, where his army, and to his surprise, Crystal, was waiting.

He stepped up beside her, looking out into the quieting crowd below and expertly hiding any emotion from his face. In a quiet voice that only she would be able to hear, he spoke to her, still facing the shore, and barely moving his mouth. "You had me worried sick, you know that?"

[Crystal M. V. Rosepaw]

ooc; ... *failed to realize these important things*

bic;

The wind picked up slightly, ruffling the vixen's hood and threatening to pull it from her skull. Blood pulsed in her ears, pumping adrenaline through her veins. Jade eyes gleaming sharply, she turned her pupils to the door of the cabin as she heard noises from inside the room. Her cloak swirled around her ankles, it's large sleeves engulfing her paws. Soon, dear old warrior, soon, a motherly voice in her head soothed. The seeds of revenge could not blossom soon enough.

Shard exited the chambers, his fur bright in the fickle light. His weapons were on clear display, his uniform a bit more formal than she had typically seen him. The vixen still did not move her head, but her eyes followed him like a predator examining it's prey. Shard did his best to not show surprise at seeing here here, and War Commander Prime had a better poker face than she recalled. However, she had not told anyone she planned to attend the meeting, and knew seeing her must shock him at least a bit.

He stood still at her side, turning his face to the beach as if to see if any others were coming. Quickly catching on, Crystal flicked her ears to him, listening intently. "You had me worried sick, you know that?" Shard's whisper barely reached her. The vixen almost smiled; indeed, she had to dip her head to mask the ghost of her mirth. She knew she should not laugh at his desperation, but it all seemed too funny.

Do not blame me," she hissed back, not even masking that she was speaking to him, but saying it quietly so none of those gathered could hear what they spoke of. "It was my duty to do what I could to protect my home and people. If that means taking risks, I do it gladly."

Here, she paused to think, a tense second between squirrel and fox. Quietly, she then said, "But thank you for your worry, Shard," she said with more heart than she had felt in a great while. Knowing someone cared about her Wellington made her feel far more secure. Regardless that he might only care so that he didn't have to do this alone, the fact that she was cared for calmed her frazzled nerves at least a bit. "Honestly, I'm suprised I recovered as quickly as I did... We have many enimies in these lands, but few would attack as openly as that. This was the reason I had to take the risks I did."

The vixen looked away fro Shard, gazing at the tree line. A few of those unable to manage the venture - mothers, children, and the elderly, mostly - stood there, also wanting to hear the speech. Unbidden thoughts of these creatures dead from pioson sprang to the front of her mind, but she shredded them by focusing on a little boy - an otter in fact - waving around a stick like a sword and shouting encouragement to the Guardians on deck.

"That one, the otter, third to the left from the badger in the yellow tunic. See him, Shard? This is what we fight for. And one day, when we are old and gray, he will fight for us." The vixen could not supress a smile now, and shook her head, allowing her hood to fall. Silky wisps of hair fell around her shoulders as the vixen raised one paw in a friendly wave to those on the beach. She shouted wordlessly, to which a few of those gathered roared back.

"I am glad to fight for them," she giggled, happy as a small child. "Are we ready?

[Shard Prime]

"Do not blame me... It was my duty to do what I could to protect my home and people. If that means taking risks, I do it gladly." Shard winced, almost visibly, at Crystal's fierce response. The following moment of tension in the air between the two powerful leaders was broken by her, "But thank you for your worry, Shard," Shard's concern was indeed genuine, though he could not tell whether she thought it so. It did not matter, however, as there were more important matters to be dealt with.

"Honestly, I'm suprised I recovered as quickly as I did... We have many enimies in these lands, but few would attack as openly as that. This was the reason I had to take the risks I did."

Shard's reply was naught but a deep, quiet grunt. He knew arguing with her would be pointless, so he let it go at that. She's going to get herself killed one day, he thought to himself, with a look of slight remorse in his eyes.

Shard had scarcely finished that thought when Crystal spoke again. He followed her gaze to focus on the child in question. "That one, the otter, third to the left from the badger in the yellow tunic. See him, Shard? This is what we fight for. And one day, when we are old and gray, he will fight for us." The squirrel glanced over at the smiling War Commander, and suddenly couldn't suppress a small smile himself. She was right, of course. Shard fought the urge to respond with something like "I don't intend to ever stop fighting... We will fight side-by-side someday."

The young squirrel lowered his head and closed his eyes briefly as the other War commander roared to the army. His smile widened and he echoed the cheer. Indeed, she was right. "I am glad to fight for them... Are we ready? Shard had rarely seen Crystal in such a strange mood, but he didn't stop to think about it.

Shard stepped back a pace and spoke, for Crystal's ears only, once more, "And I will fight for them." He then hopped forward onto the gunwale, the upper edge of the ship's side, and cleared his throat; it was his turn.

"Guardians!" he roared in his baritone, beginning a deliberate pace up and down the side of the ship, balancing masterfully on the narrow wood. Clasping his paws lightly behind his back, he continued, "Today we set sail for a near-nameless land, a land of dreams and of nightmares. A land unheard of to the vast majority of you here. Our purpose in doing so is simple... A once-mighty kingdom has become the target of a large and powerful group of..." He paused.

"Well, we don't know exactly what they are," he laughed a bit, "but they were described to us as a 'cult.' We know not their names, and we know not their numbers, but we do know this: without their leader, they are blind, deaf, and lame. Our mission is to defeat this person, their leader. I believe in all of you!" Shard stopped pacing and raised a fist in the air to the crowd below, and they cheered.

"Not only can we do this, but we shall!" They cheered again. "In a few short months, we will arrive on foreign soil and show these fiends what the good folk of Mossflower can do!" Yet another cheer sounded, even stronger than before. Shard raised his voice fiercely to wrap up his speech, "My friends! My Guardians! One hour from now, we shall go and give them heeeeell!"

Shard hopped backward and landed in his former position beside Crystal as the ships were boarded and the final preparations being made. The squirrel turned to look his fellow War Commander in the eyes, smiling. "We will fight for them... And win." The fierce shimmer in his eyes showed that he meant it.

[karka]

Obscured by the rigging and the ladders around him, Karka lay on the mainmast top, beneath the crow's nest on the wide wooden platform. His cold, unfeeling eyes were turned to the sky, at a dull and hazy cold grey crisscrossed with the shadowy forms of ropes and nets and sails. The air was permeated with the smell of seawater, and left the dry, stinging taste of salt on his lolling tongue. The same salty scent rose from hisown body too, from his soaked and drenched fur, as the dark stain of his body blossomed in the wood beneath him.

He listened to the speech of the War Commanders down on the deck below but only half-heartedly, his eyes mostly shut and his breathing slow and steady. His great barrel of a chest rose and fell with each tremulous sigh, as the fresh sea breeze beat about him. Lacking a sense of urgency he idled where he lay, as he vaguely noticed the movement of sailors around him, but only as flittering silhouettes that moved too fast.

With a grunt he pulled himself up, a paw going immediately to the back of his head as it spun from the weight of the water in his thick hair. He rubbed his forehead and his temples with tightly shut eyes, wrinkling his nose and baring his teeth. His body felt heavy and tired, and unusually so. He'd swam to get rid of the feeling, for he had always loved swimming, and yet the sensation of his paws cutting through the gentle waves and his face being flushed by the cold water had failed to make him feel any better.

He shook his head from side to side and let the water spray out from his flailing fur. Little droplets flung from his face fell like a stinging rain on his bare shoulders and chest, like needles. The fur of his face remained wet and sticky with salt, adhesing against his skin and mingling with his sweat. With the back of his paw he smoothed his fur, matting it roughly out of his eyes, his nose, his mouth, gently letting it conceal his many scars. He sighed, and dropped his paws to the wooden deck beneath him to trace the edges of the panels, feeling for the edge of the top. Finding it as the point where his fingers seized air, he traced it along and found the shrouds beneath, which he promptly grabbed and held onto.

He pushed himself over the edge quite literally, propelling himself to roll off the edge of the platform on the mast to swing around and hang by his fingertips, clinging to the ropes that secured the mast. He slid down them to the great main spar, the rope chafing his roughened paws, and he swung his feet forward, propelling himself to stand, with his toes curled around the wooden beam, on the yard of the main sail. He stopped for a moment there and let the wind run over him as white cloth billowed beneath him, as his trousers, his galligaskins, as the sailors had educated him, fluttered about his stocky legs despite their uncomfortable wetness. They were the only item of clothing he wore, and else his fur and skin was bared to the sun, wind and sea.

He clambered down the rigging with the same grace as he would climb down a tree, a kind of grace that was surly, bulky and far from beautiful, but nevertheless speedy and efficient. His claws grasped rope and wood, his limbs tensed and stretched, his body sprang to and fro. Trained and toned muscles rippled grotesquely beneath patchy, bristly fur and scarred, taut skin. All the while, his eyes remained firmly shut. With a final spring he landed heavily on the deck with a thump, and he straightened up wearily.

"Let's go, eh," growled Karka quietly. "Sayin' goodbyes to folks you ain't likely to see again ain't the best thing you could be doin'." He sneered, and raising his voice, he said, "Let's get goin' already! I ain't wet my claws in blood in a long, long time."

[Crystal M. V. Rosepaw]

Grim, lustful delight pounded through the vixen's veins, the feelings around her so liberating it was nearly intoxicating. It had been too long since she had seen so much sunlight glisten from her fur, smelled the salt of the sea, or even felt the now-comforting weight of her broadsword pressing against her spine. Opening her jaws, Crystal sucked in a deep gulp of fresh air, as if between this and the next she would never have the chance again. The medicating herbs were working well, blocking out all her pain and signs of illness, except for the slight fuzziness in her head. Perhaps the War Commander was a bit too medicated.

The smile still pressed on her lips, the War Commander shifted her weight, hearing the audible pop of her crippled leg, but not caring much about it. Today was a fantastic day! She was free of her binds, and on the deck of the lovely ship. She hadn't felt like this since her very early youth - actually, she hadn't felt like this in eight years, when she had taken up her first job as a member of a patrol. Then, she had been a silly child, knowing nothing about pain or sadness, only the burn to fight for justice and the desire to prove her critics wrong.

As thus, Crystal felt the very same way today! Her old wounds did not trouble her, her mind was quite obviously lighter than normal at the current, and she felt as free as the day she first left home. And bonuses! She now knew what it felt like to prevail, and she knew how sweet the taste of vengeance was. At the thought of striding up on foreign sands, cleaving apart the puny people that threatened a typically peaceful civilization, then standing before the king hat had proclaimed her a murderer while coated with the blood of his enemies was simply too sweet. And even more sweet would be to execute this group’s leader in front of the king; oh yes, let the pompous king see his kingdom and people saved by a murderer. The vixen worked her best to maintain a straight and silent face and Shard began his speech, but could not help a dark grin crossing her face.

Oh, right, the speech. Crystal blinked quickly, her face instantly going blank as she turned to her companion. "In a few short months, we will arrive on foreign soil and show these fiends what the good folk of Mossflower can do! My friends! My Guardians! One hour from now, we shall go and give them heeeeell!" The vixen jerked her head once to confirm his statement, teeth mashed together in an effort to silence herself. The squirrel bounced back to his place beside her, stating solemnly, "We will fight for them... And win."

The vixen’s insane grin returned, her fangs obviously showing. ”Good answer, Prime,” Crystal hissed, a shiver of impatience running through her. Now… Now it was her turn to rally this rag-tag band of tavern brawlers, part-time fighters, and, of course, Guardians, into a frenzy like that of her own.

Before she could speak or even step forward, a huge shape fell onto the deck of the ship between the War Commanders and their crowd. Karka, Crystal mentally whispered, her face going slack again as she swiveled her ears towards him to catch in the words he uttered. “… ain’t the best thing you could be doin’.” One of the fox’s eyebrows rose, a small spark of anger lighting up her eyes. Who was he to judge, well, anyone? A dark look of contempt crossed his face, and he jeered to the crowd, “Let’s get goin’ already! I ain’t wet my claws in blood in a long, long time.”

Instantly, the somewhat fuzzy gears in Crystal’s head began to turn. This Karka wasn’t exactly the best one of her recruits, but if she challenged him here and now there would be setbacks. No, this challenge to authority would be solved later. For now, she could use this creature as a part of her plan.

“Nor have I!” Crystal’s voice sounded out, her Cheshire-cat smile returning. For the first time, the War Commander addressed her warriors, looking at those onboard directly around Karka’s large form. Although she stared at them, her eyes remained unfocused on any of their faces. She reached one think paw to the pin holding on her cloak, opening the latch in a practiced twitch of her fingers. As she stepped forward, the fabric melted to the floor beside Shard, her long strides taking her up to the same level of the wolverine, the loose cloth of her uniform fluttering, her hair whipping towards land.

“We will go to the island, we will lie low those who insult justice, and we will prove our honor!” Raging with her mental sickness now, the vixen let out a small laugh, green orbs burning. With a jerk, she pulled her sword from its scabbard, hefting it with both paws to hold it aloft, allowing her fangs to show from her wicked grin. “Let them surrender or it will be their blood,” the vixen howled from her place by the massive creature. Without even a pause, she sucked in a deep breath, the madness fading into a near pleasant smile.

“Ready yourselves, my warriors. We leave in one hour,” she said, this quietly, calmly, even patiently.

Fear my rapier wit, Karka, Crystal thought vehemently.


---

ooc;; If this post doesn't prove she's insane, nothing will. Lol.

[Shard Prime]

”Good answer, Prime.”

Shard was again neary taken aback by the other War Commander's fierceness. Not for the first time (or for the last), he was grateful to have her on his side. He considered for a moment that he and Crystal were near opposites. Sure, Shard was among the best of the best at most of everything he did (not that he did much), but he was normally calm, collected, and gentle. Though he didn't know her very well on a personal level, the opposite seemed to be true of Crystal. Maybe I should try to use this voyage as an excuse to get to know my fellow War Commander better...

Karka sounded out, “Let’s get goin’ already! I ain’t wet my claws in blood in a long, long time.”

Shard pondered the statement briefly, and then—

“Nor have I!”

"Hmm." Shard wondered if she meant that. He disregarded the falling fabric, moving aside a step to let it billow slightly in the wind. He turned and watched her as she strode toward the great hulk that was Karka. The fox continued, "We will go to the island, we will lie low those who insult justice, and we will prove our honor!" The squirrel was looking into her eyes, those wild green spheres that were full of an insanity he would likely never understand. “Let them surrender or it will be their blood,”

Shard was almost scared of Crystal and her fierceness. He certainly would be if he were her enemy, but it was not so. Hopefully, that would never be.

Then Nido appeared behind Shard again, his great bow-staff in its staff form, with the bowstring dangling from the top of it. Shard spun around again as he heard the great staff hit the deck behind him with a loud "clunk." "GYAH, how do you do that!?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," the giant hare casually replied.

"You know... Being silent, sneaky, despite being one of the largest creatures here? I'm starting to think you startle me on purpose!"

Nido smiled at his friend, "Only sometimes. Anyway... Going to help with the final preparations?"

"Ah! Yes. Shall we then?" the squirrel chuckled, and promptly glided down the ramp with his friend to the sands below to help the few who still had things to load carry their luggage.

[Seki]

The railing, she thought, may not be the wisest place to sit.

The main deck was crowded with beasts of all shapes and sizes, everyone either worked up with battle frenzy or trying to find room to breathe. The lucky ones had come aboard early, and were hanging onto the mast riggings or the thingy that held up the sails. Seki wasn't well versed in nautical jargon.

The unlucky ones were crammed in on the deck itself, squished shoulder to neck.

The really unlucky ones, such as herself, had to make do with whatever space was still available. As such, she was sitting on the outer railing of the ship, her satchel dangling precariously outward. On her left was a brawny otter, on her right, an irritated-looking mouse.

The otter snarled, leaning her way. “Whaddya doin’ ‘ere, vermin? We’re here to hunt youse types down, not recruit them.”

Seki ignored him, pushing him back. “Shuddup, riverdog, can’t hear d’ bosses.”

Shard, up on the deck, was yelling something about hell and glory and honor. The last two were slightly foreign to the marten, but the first was familiar.

The otter shoved her again. “’Ey, who ya callin’ riverdog, scumface?”

The marten shrugged. “Mossflower?”

As the otter worked this out, Seki turned her head back toward
the two War Commanders. They were talking to someone-

Oh, crap.

It was that damn wolverine again.

That beast was following her, she swore. Seki had never seen him before that day several moons ago, but since then, he had shown up at the bar, at the clearing-although she didn’t know if he had seen her that time- and now, here. It was only a matter of time before he was behind her shoulder at all times-

Or, perhaps, she was just being paranoid.

She noticed that whatever was going on up there had ended, and that Shard and his lackey had gone back down to the jetty. The deck was clearing up, and, lo behold, she could walk two feet forward. Seki hopped off the railing, satchel bouncing on her shoulder and headfur getting in her face. Leaving her two mates in suffering behind, Seki filed down to the lower deck.

OOC: If anyone with a mouse charrie wants to be the mouse, be my guest. I’d like to see how Seki is perceived.
Also, cruddy post, I know. so sorry.

[Mark Silverarrow]

Mark was annoyed. This is not new, but still, few were as angry as he was that day. Mark had arrived early, and had fallen asleep in the crows nest. He then woke up to a rat pushing him out of the nest, and falling into the sea. After drying off, he found the ship covered completely from front to back with all sorts of beasts. Mark then climbed up a rope that somebeast had left hanging of the edge. The only space he found was on the rail, between a hare and a pine marten. The marten was familiar, but not the hare.
Mark shuddered. He was going paranoid, but who wasn't these days. The mouse also found himself think in third person.
Mark was... wait, no, not like this.
Silverarrow then watched the pine marten next to him. She tensed as soon as she... what was her name... um Seri? No, no, no. Seki? Now, that was right.... saw the wolverine. Now, he was no fan of that beast, but, maybe Seki had a reason. Probably just everyone being paranoid. As usual.

Mark quickly checked his weapons. Bow, quiver of arrows, check. Three daggers, check. Bowie knife, check. He then looked in his small bag and many pockets that he had on his clothes. Other clothes, a book, some rope, whetstone, and some other things. O, and apples. Lots and lots of apples. Mark liked apples. Nothing wrong with that. And acorns. Green. Bitter, but something to do. He was prepared for this thing, no matter what happened.

[Ben Scoiattolo]

Down below decks, Ben wiped his paws on his
trousers. He had finally got his trunk tied down. Looking down
the rows of cots he cast a guilty look at all the small neat sea
chests. They were all in perfect order; closed, locked and
stowed at the foot of every berth. Then he looked down; where
at his footpaws, lay his own trunk. It was bursting at the seams.
The box was three times the size of any of the other chests. It
was lashed closed by three separate cords. But even that could
not keep its contents fully in check. The lid jammed down on
various articles of clothing, a towel and a half eaten loaf of
bread. It was good bread, Ben reflected; as he stared down
pensively. He reached down and tore of a small chunk and
nibbled at it. It was at that moment, with bread in paw, Ben
finally admitted to himself: he had over packed.


Ben had more weapons in the trunk than he could
reasonably carry. And more clothes than he could wear in a
month. But Ben felt he had accomplish something by not
wearing three layers of clothes and carrying fewer than five
blades on his person, as was his habit. Yes, Ben felt very light.
He was wearing only homespun trousers and a loose fitting
tunic over which was a belt and baldric. His long stiletto dagger
was secured on the left side of his belt (Ben was left pawed)
and strapped to his left thigh by a tied length of canvas. Very
light.

Ben’s left paw strayed to its hilt, now. The slim metal crosstree
hilt was cool to the touch. Just that touch made his paws
remember. He was aware of every dimension of the weapon;
he could feel the weight and balance. Ben supposed everyone
had some tool or instrument of which they knew every facet.

Ben’s attention snapped at a creak from the stairs.
Beasts were coming below decks now. The rough timbers bent
under each beast’s weight. The launch ceremony was ended
and everybeast would come down and situate their bunks
before watches were assigned. Ben slid through the flow of
beasts in the direction of the stairs. There was someone he
was hoping to catch.

He felt it was high time he introduced himself the pine marten;
one Seki Fathom. He had been following her for a week and
determined she would make a very valuable ally. Ben wasn’t
quite sure how it would play out, though. He was certain she
knew he was following her. But he didn’t know if she knew it
was he, Ben Scoiattolo that was following her. Also he didn’t
know if she knew he knew she knew that he was following her.
One of the hazards of subterfuge is very confusing
acquaintances. You can be intimately familiar with a beast’s
character, habits and personality; while never having been
introduced . Especially with arch nemeses and other such
characters. At any rate, Ben was determined to de-confuse the
situation.

He pushed passed a brawny sea otter, and then a midget rat.
There. Just coming down the stairs. Carrying a satchel and
seemingly in a good mental state, was Seki Fathom. Ben
walked down the row of cots directly toward her. There, he had
caught her eye. Approaching her (but being mindful to keep an
arm and a half distance) he put on a light and winning
countenance and made the pitch.

“Hello… My name’s Ben. I, uh… well, I’m the one who’s been
following you. I was hoping to have a little… chat. About certain
things of interest. Possibly over the last good wine we’ll get
until the other side.”

Ben added the last sentence with an engaging half smile and a
slight turn of the head. Searching here face for a reaction.

[Treaflet Boughwhiffler]

Treafet ran to the ship, hoping he wouldnt be late. Quickly scaling a nearby tree, he ran out on a bough and jumped, landing on the wooden deck of the ship. Hearing the beginning of the speach, he knew he was in time. He checked his sabre, throwing knives, bow, and arrows, then looked around. Many beasts of all kinds were around him. A few vermin too. He didn't get too suspiciopus, but if they plotted to turn on the goodbeasts, they would have him to reckon with. So many creatures. I just hope there are enough. He then walked to the dack over Shard. Saluting, he called, "I'm Treaflet, rogue archer and sword squirrel. I take it you are Shard?"