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Post by Ladorak on Dec 1, 2010 6:25:00 GMT -5
Caden shook his head, and pushed off from the wall. "But I'm not...I'm not any of those things. I'm not as good a friend I could be to Carrow. What have I done that's indicated that? And I...I grew up without a family. I can't relate to any of what you said because I never had one to begin with...I'm sorry. I never had a dad until Ladorak...I never had any siblings, or cousins because my uncles were all dead or stayed away. My mother didn't care about me. Or at least not enough to stop making mistakes that left me on my own. I can't relate because I never had it to begin with. I grew up with only a rat nurse taking care of me most of my life."
He shook his head again, beginning to pace once more, this time in a more agitated manner. He felt like he wanted to somehow rip his skin off and just be free of all this...be somewhere else far, far away. Step outside his own body and live another life. "And for Spender...it doesn't change what he did. It doesn't change the fact that he tried to physically hurt me...and that he's hated me from the start. I don't want..."
But he never finished. He wanted to tell Elliot that he wished he had it as easy as "he" did, not suspecting of course that the beech didn't have it quite so easy. The albino wouldn't get the chance however. He was roughly grabbed as he stepped in front of an alleyway. The massive arms wrapped about him, and yanked him off his paws. Too surprised to react at first, the marten could feel himself being whisked back down into the alley. "No! What are you..." he was cut of as the arms squeezed him tightly, threatening to cut off his air. "Help!" he called weakly, kicking his legs out in front of him to no effect whatsoever.
Shaking his head from right to left, the albino did the only thing he could think of out of sheer desperation. He bit down into the arms of his attacker, hearing the creature howl out in pain as he was dropped to the cobble stones. Caden didn't need to think twice. He bolted, panicking and running for his life. The thought of being abducted, being taken away from the only things he had left...it terrorized him. It gripped his heart like a vice, it sent cold shocks throughout his form, and he numbly and blindly charged in the direction he hoped was the street.
But he emerged in a different area...he wasn't sure if it was the same street or not. Looking desperately around him, Caden couldn't be sure exactly where he was...but there was more than one of them chasing him, and he could hear them coming up from behind. "Help!" he called out, getting only amused or incomprehensible looks from those around him. They either didn't speak his language or otherwise found it funny that this "infidel" wanted "help." Most of them knew what a high price he would fetch as a slave, and no one moved to help him.
"Help!" he shouted again, racing forward to try and outrun his pursuers. He ducked through legs, twisted around arms, and tried to look for someone...anyone who could help him. I wish I hadn't said those things! I wish I hadn't left! My friends might not help me now! They might hate me for what I've done! SOMEBODY HELP!
"LADORAK! LADORAK!" he cried at the top of his lungs, his mental processes breaking down now and only his survival instincts kicking in. "LADORAK!" he yelled again, hoping beyond hope that his stoat guardian was somewhere nearby. But it was not to be.
As Caden turned, hearing the pawsteps behind him, he smacked his head on the paw holds of a cart, his sunglasses flying off and into the street. He was blinded in an instant. He couldn't see. The searing light cut him off, took over everything in his vision, and he thrust his paws out, trying to feel his way around. He collapsed to his knees, crying as he tried to locate his glasses. Beasts stepped on his paws, and then he was lifted into the air again. "No...no!" he uttered, his chocked sobs reaching unsympathetic ears. He was useless now. He couldn't see. He was blind...even if he could escape...they would simply catch him again as he stumbled around.
"Help...help..." he whimpered, unable to open his eyes for fear of that light. It was over for him. His struggles became less noticeable, and he started to go limp in his abductor's arms...pain suddenly sprang up in his head...he must have struck himself harder than he initially thought...his head was swimming now, and he felt dizzy and disoriented...unable to effectively fight back as his captors started to remove him from the street and out of sight.
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Post by spender on Dec 4, 2010 8:03:17 GMT -5
Molly's day was getting better and better. And she had been almost losing hope before...
The only thing she would have changed is not having Lowse lead them. From what she had inferred from Miri's comment, Molly was more interested in following the rat's directions than the creature himself. What would be next? A psycho mink's den? A harem of bloodthirsty vixens? The possibilities were endless! But, instead, they were just taken to a seedy little hole in the wall.
It would do nicely.
She paused, listening to Ladorak's romantic little speech, and smiling, turned and bopped him playfully on the nose with the gloved pad of her paw.
"You know I'm not good with words," she said. "But that was really cute. Are you sure you don't mind? After all, you didn't really give anyone notice, did you...?"
Whether or not he did, she didn't give him a chance to dwell; she was pulling them both inside (well, not pulling Miri physically, but in a magnetic sort of horrible way that someone might go down a dark alley they've just heard a scream come from, in some morbid hope that things will get interesting.)
"Follow my lead," she grinned—although she doubted Miri need take tips from her. The more Molly saw of the weasel on land, the more she began to wonder how far this mercenary thing of hers went. There were certain... Kreeholdian aspects to her. No doubt Miri could spin the entire tavern around her claw without effort.
The place was dark, dingy, a little dusty, but mostly dangerous. In an unlawful land, this was where beasts went to break what little laws there were even further. This usually involved breaking other things, too, such as arms and faces. There were more corners than the four-sided structure should have naturally allowed, and more shadows than a puppet show wherein the concentrated light was behind the entire audience. Every other step, glass or something else crunched underpaw. The place reeked of peanuts and incontinence. Someone was playing a badly-tuned fiddle, and someone else was shouting at them to stop, and someone else was threatening the shouter to shut up before something bad happened to them.
Molly zheeped in glee. She was home.
Propping herself up at the bar, she gazed at the crud-encrusted top and traced her name in the grime with an idle claw, considering the menu.
"Oh, hellgates," she cackled. "One of everything!"
She tossed Lowse's purse onto the counter with a crinkle of coins.
The fiddle stopped playing. In fact, the entire place seemed to stop for a few seconds, as if time itself was too shocked to respond. Gradually, beasts began to move again—slowly, from the neck up; a dozen heads turned to watch the three musteline newcomers.
Molly's smile never faltered.
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Post by bookity101 on Dec 4, 2010 22:22:03 GMT -5
Elle made a move towards Caden, hoping to cut him off in his ridiculous self-bashing, but never got a chance say anything as she watched helplessly as her friend was dragged away down the alley.
“CADEN!” She took off after him; unfortunately there were several beasts between her and Caden by now, and one of them stepped from behind her, snagging her by the arms and lifting her, only he wouldn’t give her the chance to bit him, not that stopped her from struggling in his grasp. Though she held her tongue, hoping that if she did she might be able to see a way to help Caden;
“Oi! Do we want this’un too?!” The harsh words in a tongue she didn’t know sent a shiver down her spine. The harsh, guttural tones of the language made the simple query sound much more ominous... She felt the weasels grip relaxing around her, and acted. Swinging both footpaws back, she caught her attacker unawares and managed to evade his grasping paws as she ran to assist her friend.
“You leave him alone!” Because she was smaller than even Caden, she had an easier time evading the beasts in the alley, well until one became exasperated and simply kicked her into the wall. The fox glanced over his shoulder at the dazed form Caden’s struggles slowed than ceased in the arms of yet another minion. Looking her up and down, he shook his head;
“No, two will be harder to hide and the albino will fetch a better price. Make sure he doesn’t follow us though.” Grinning wickedly, the beast that had kicked her raised a paw high in the air and Elle, discerning what his intention was, opened her mouth to shout, but the heavy club like paw of her assaulter silenced her before she could make a sound. Moments later, the limp form of the beech martin could be seen, half in half out of the alleyway. A small amount of blood showing above her eye and a large bruise was forming on both the front and back of her torso, one where she had been kicked, the other where she hit the wall....
But she wasn't down for long. Slowly but surely her senses returned to her and she stood, shaking her head slightly as her vision swam. When her equilibrium had returned she turned to look down the alley way... but Caden and those kitnappers where long gone. Elle could feel tears growing in her eyes but she squelched them and moved to look for her friends...
Finally, after about fifeteen minutes of alternatly looking for something familiar and resting her swimming head, she saw water? The Bay! Re-energized, she quickened her pace, casting her glance over the ships, name she didn't know, name she couldn't read, to big, to little, that's just a fishing ship! Where is... There! She moved as quickly as she could to the Agamemnon, arriving fom the opposite direction as Selvis and Co. In fact, she would run into them if they hadn't gotten lost...
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Miri shook her head as she followed Molly and the Captain into the dingy room. Little did Molly know how close she was too accurate about Miri’s talents, as long as there was someone she trusted watching her back. But that came from practicing since she was a preteen and dealing with beasts like this on day to day bases.
While beasts were turning their heads to look at the threesome, Miri in turn studied them. The fiddle player was seedy looking weasel, the serving girls al looked to haggard, the barkeep was a stringy excuse for a rat but several of the larger patrons looked like they would put up a fight. One of them had to blink and rub his eyes. He could have sworn that there were three new beasts who just walked in… two stoats and weasel. Where’d the weasel go? Miri snickered a bit internally as she deftly “disappeared” from view. Molly and Ladorak would of course see her, but everyone else would be left wondering if they had imagined the third beasts existence. Admittedly it was one of her favorite “party tricks”, her natural ability to simply be looked over, at least by most beasts. She felt two eyes burning a hole in the back of her neck.
Molly wanted to fight, that much was clear. And Miri wasn’t going to be caught unawares by someone who knew what to look for. She tuned in her seat to scan the room for the one who was not overlooking the unassuming weasel jill. And there he was. Lone jack in the back corner booth, weasel by the look of him, and he seemed to be just waiting. Miri smiled a little to herself as she turned to lean on the bar. This was going to be fun….
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Post by Carrow on Dec 5, 2010 16:36:51 GMT -5
Selvis and his companions had indeed reached the ship, but, as the leader of the group had expected, no sign of Caden or even Elle was to be found. The weasel was worried at this stage, but he was trying his absolute best to conceal it. One thing Selvis Frenata could do very well was conceal his emotions if he needed to.
In truth, the group hadn't gotten lost at all, they had simply been going on what Caden had told the Ferlusanian longtail. He had known from the very moment the albino marten had left the restaurant that there would be little chance of him reaching his destination. Foreign cities were hell to get around, particularly for the uninitiated.
Setiva was still holding Carrow. Her senseless cousin was fortunately light as a feather - particularly due to the fact that he hadn't eaten in a couple of hours - so she had very little difficulty in carrying him. She could see the increased level of anxiety within her new weasel friend, and this unsettled her.
The female wood mouse had a knack for sussing out personalities of creatures she'd known even for a short length of time, and Selvis had immediately struck her as a weasel who was easy-going, almost carefree. Not that they'd spoken to each other much just yet, however: the rodent could tell Selvis had a lot on his mind.
Eviros and Artivis, meanwhile, had dropped to the back of the procession, and were currently sitting down, taking a short breather. The events of the last while had been quite affecting for all concerned. Carrow had been the worst hit, though, and Eviros in particular was content to see his nephew spark out. If he were to wake up, it would be terrible news that awaited him.
For all the five of them knew, Caden had disappeared, and there was absolutely nothing they could do to aid the situation. It was with such thoughts on his mind that Selvis had sunk into a rare state of sadness. When he knew he was unable to help, the mustelid felt useless. He loved to lend a paw whenever he could, and when he couldn't, he was all at sea.
The sight of a familiar creature brought Selvis out of the almost trance-like state he had found himself in, however. He couldn't see Elle close up just yet, so got to his paws and ran to meet her... and his heart sank in his chest as he wished he hadn't. She seemed every bit as shaken as Carrow had earlier. Worse, she seemed to be in pain... and she was crying. He'd never seen her cry before.
Oh no, he thought. This can't be good. He slowed his pace, walking up to Elle and putting his arms around her, pulling her close so she could rest her head on his shoulder for a bit. She seemed to be not all there, and, as Selvis looked into her eyes he could see unshed tears. Thoroughly alarmed at both her appearance and her emotional state, he spoke, his voice soft - or about as soft as he could keep it as he tried not to give in to the feelings of rage bubbling up within him. Those injuries sure didn't look accidental... "Elliot? What is it?"
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Post by Ladorak on Dec 6, 2010 17:12:53 GMT -5
Ocean slashed the tip of the match, bringing it into flame and letting it burn in front of him. He was acutely aware of others getting up to leave, but he didn't so much care at this point. So long as some of them remained, he could still engage in conversation from time to time and keep his mind off of Spender...and other things.
This city reeked of lowlifes...so perhaps his quarry was here as well. Ocean had primarily joined to travel the world...as he knew there would be a chance of running into certain groups and certain people...so maybe here he would find some clue or inkling as to his search.
But then he looked up. Everyone was gone. What the hell? He looked around him about the restaurant, but not a single creature remained from the table. Where had everyone gone? And why hadn't they said anything?
A sudden heat on his fingers caused him to yelp and drop the match to the ground in pain as it burned down to his fur, but he had gotten rid of it without any real damage occurring. It fizzled out on the stones beneath his footpaws, and he stared at it blankly for a minute. Where was...everyone?
He hopped out of the seat, realizing he'd been completely lost in thought, and had not noticed that not a single person remained from before. He walked out into the street, wondering where everyone had gotten to. He went this way, that way, and pressed himself through sweaty bodies and chattering shoppers. This language was so garrulous! It was yappy and noisy and incessant. It gave the ermine a headache.
Looking about, he was surprised to hear Caden yelling out for Ladorak at the top of his lungs. Twisting his head to try and see what was going on, he could see the albino marten break out into the sea of onlookers, but looking behind him, the marten didn't see a cart, which he promptly smacked into and lost his sunglasses in the street.
Gasping, Ocean tried to push his way forward as the younger stripling was roughly seized and carried away from him. What was this? A kitnapping?! Here!? Were they perhaps...
Ocean didn't get a chance to finish his thought. He shoved his way through the uncaring crowd, pushing beasts left and right as he tried to break through. He felt a paw grab him on his shoulder, clamping down. He spun around to strike at whoever this was, growing paranoid that perhaps this was some sort of conspiracy targeting sailors from the Agamemnon, but relaxed upon seeing it was only Montegu Sylver.
"Jal Sylver! They got him! They took Caden!"
"Yes I know Jal Sleet. I was trying to get behind them but they moved too quickly and the crowd was too thick. We need to let Jal Fugate know about this. He mentioned he was heading to some taverns. I'll try and sniff those out. Do you think you can follow them?" Ocean nodded.
"But watch yourself lad...they're killers. There's too many of them in that alleyway to fight. I counted at least five. I could probably take three or so...but you're unarmed and I don't want you charging them. Each one of them carried a sword from what I could tell. Try to see where they take Caden...and then come back to the ship and find me. Hopefully I'll have located Jal Fugate by then. If not, let the Master-at-Arms know what's happened. He should be on duty. Report back what you've found. Hopefully they won't move him by tonight. Do NOT get caught though...no telling what they'll do."
"But...shouldn't we let the authorities know too?" Ocean asked in response to Monty's instructions.
"What authorities? They're nothing but pirates here." Monty said forlornly. "They wouldn't lift a claw to assist. The Bey I'm sure would claim he's not responsible for our safety, and he would be right. Jal Fugate will deal with it...just see if you can tail them...inconspicuously, and find out where they're going. Hurry! They're leaving! Hurry lad!" Monty urged, shoving Ocean forward and darting off into the crowd.
Ocean turned, but the detective was gone. Looking back into the alley, he could just see the departing figures rounding a corner! Right! Time to see how stealthy he could be! Picking up Caden's lost sunglasses at his footpaws, the ermine moved into the alley, quickening his pace to keep up with the slavers...fast...but not too fast! He didn't want to end up skewered in a dark cul-de-sac of this place!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ladorak was dragged into the uncomfortable atmosphere. First to receive the stares of nearly all the patrons, and then to be pushed into a bar stool next to Molly. Alcohol in a Horde city? Well, well. It seemed the Eastern Hordes' control over their vassal states was in fact slipping.
One of everything...oh dear...that made the molting stoat's throat close up. What did she plan to do? Blow his whole payment on booze? But then again...it wasn't like he was going to go shopping here anyway. What would he possibly buy from these barbarians? He didn't want to support their wars against his continent. Might as well spend it here...at an establishment whose legality could be brought into question.
Ahhh good. It seemed the first round was on Lowse...or whoever he had picked clean. Well he could live with that. He settled into his seat and began to listen to the conversations that swirled about him...not that he could understand half the words being said...let alone any of them, but perhaps Molly would start stirring up some trouble soon enough.
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Post by spender on Dec 7, 2010 0:51:46 GMT -5
Willard popped the fox doll back in the sack. No more distractions! He chided himself under his breath as he piled away all the things he'd borrowed, mostly of Spender's. The ferret had enough toys to entertain a whole orphanage for a year, it felt like.
He kept a few mementos for himself, for now. For a little while longer. He would give them back... when he was done with them. He just needed their company for the afternoon. The marble, the jack, and the ferret pawn would all be returned, and no one would know they had ever been missing...
Willard sighed. Who was he kidding? He was losing it. Utterly losing it. It was all Ocean's fault! Things had been fine until that... that stoat went nuts and Willard, trying to be the hero, trying to keep his crew together, had... had...
The weasel sobbed quietly. He couldn't bear it. This was worse than being abandoned in Naples. He'd been smacked! A mark against his record! How could he go on like this? He'd never make Admiral now. They'd never forgive him, and he couldn't forgive himself, not for lying about making a dare that could endanger his blessed Ags...
He quickly wiped his face dry and composed himself again. No. He'd make Admiral. He just had to avoid distractions. He'd put Spender's things away, and all of Caden's books except the one he was going to read--but he left the pillow and the blanket strung up, so he would have somewhere nice to stay. Someone was napping in the gunroom, and their snores were atrocious.
It was after storing Spender's toys away again that Willard returned topside for a bit of fresh air before heading back to read. Pacing the deck, hissing and growling at the Rosferian warship, scowling at the city, he saw the group clustered on the docks in front of the ship.* He stopped, staring. There were a lot more mice than usual, and a lot less white mustelids. That was odd.
He tip-pawed closer to the railing, then put his paw down on it for balance. He cringed a little, as if the wood burned; he didn't like being this close to ... that place.
"Hoi!" he called, cupping his other paw around his muzzle. "What's going on, you lot? Where's Caden and Ocean? Hello! Who are the mice?"
((* I'm guessing!!))
Keinruf was not having the best day of his life. He'd narrowed it down, though. It was either the day, about thirty years ago, that he'd found a stale bratwurst under his bed as a kit, or the day about five years ago when he'd woken up in the middle of the night with sweats, only to remember that he wasn't scheduled to be assassinated until the day after.
They weren't great days, as far as days go, but Keinruf didn't judge his days the way most beasts would. While the aforementioned parts were certainly the highlights of his life so far, what really made them stand out was that nothing actually horrible had happened to him for those days, either. He had a few other days that were tolerably nice, but those days, lacking anything outright fantastic such as finding old bratwurst, he did not consider to be eligible for the Best Day Ever competition. Definitely good days, though. He tried his best to keep that in mind.
Keinruf, it must be said, looked like he had been dragged out of the gutter after being dragged out of the grave. His fur had colours, but no sheen or luster, and his fur hung off his skin like wet rags, his skin clung to his bones like a shriveled fruit peel, and his bones themselves might have been made of glass, gravel and taffy all lumped together, for all the support they gave him. Every hour was a miracle this marten didn't simply fall apart; and if you knew the marten in question very well, you would not use the word "miracle" but rather "proof that there exists a devil, and that he is angry at the world". Or for the non-religious: "proof that there is no God, not the least a loving one, for if He existed, He would have long since smote Wright out of existence, and in doing so not only saved hundreds of beasts their sanity and health, but also put Wright out of his own pitiless misery."
The pine marten moved slowly down the street. Partly due to the press of creatures around him, making progress difficult; partly due to his limp (his left knee had been broken at least three times in his life); and partly due to the string of young beasts he had roped behind him.
Two, actually.
One was his son. Reisender Wright, a scant seven years old, toddled along quite happily despite the rope harness around him. He was chewing on something he'd found in the street, as kits do. He had the most charming little flatcap on his head, and the fluffiest, creamiest orange-yellow bib you ever did see. No passerby would have mistaken him for Keinruf's son, and it was something that Keinruf himself often wondered at, for his wife was no saint herself.
The other was a mousemaiden, a little older, eleven or twelve years of age most likely. Her brown fur was tinted orange, with a white dash on the top of her head (and on her stomach, although this was covered up by a smock). Her eyes, downcast, had a reddish tinge. She walked without purpose, without hope, without sandals. Her legs were dusty and scabby from her journey, and if there could exist a beast as miserable-looking as Keinruf, it was her.
"Weaselbait, Weaselbait," the pine marten kit goaded, spinning around in his harness to waggle his tongue at the mouse. She didn't reply; his father yanked the rope, causing both young beasts to stumble.
"Be kviet," he grumbled.
Just the one. Just one more slave sold to these backwater heathens, and he could get the money to go home again. Home! The idea burned so hot in his mind that his blood boiled and his heart melted. Home... and then he could concentrate on finding who had kidnapped his wife...
Molly set the mug down and skrinched up her lips, as if she'd just sucked on a lemon that thought it was a chili pepper. The pink tip of her tongue peeped out, and she at last gave a slight cough.
"Tastes like horse widdle," she declared. The barkeep reached out to remove it. Molly grabbed it back. "I didn't say I didn't like it."
She took another sip and looked back at the room. She glanced at Miri, and then followed the weasel's gaze. Grinning, the stoat gave her friend a gentle elbow in the ribs.
"Now, now, Miri... I don't think Jal Sylver would approve. Ah, but I won't tell. We won't tell, right, Laddy?" Molly leaned closer to him now, whispering. "Of course, I've given her strict instructions to tell you if I slip up... and it will be a slip up, if it ever happens. I promise. I'm only sober now... Oooh, watch this."
She'd spied another stoat jack. She straightened up, tilting her chin upwards a little, so that the light could get under the brim of her hat. She swirled one gloved claw around the rim of her mug, and slowly tugged at the neck of her scarf-array shirt. The effect was a little lost due to her molt; the extra white bib-fur that was now showing was nothing much to get excited about, not with the rest of her head almost as white. If only they'd been a month or two sooner, when there was enough brown around the back of her neck for contrast.
It wasn't much—but it was enough. With a sly wink and a twitch of her tail, the jack rose from his seat, as if in a trance. He took a few shaky steps, glanced back at his companion, a drowsy ferret, and then steeled himself. Swallowing, the stoat began to stride towards the three at the bar.
"Now," Molly whispered to Ladorak, "turn around slowly, and give him a good glare. He'll either wet himself, or puff up for a fight. Either way... I'm entertained."
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Post by bookity101 on Dec 7, 2010 11:16:55 GMT -5
Elle didn’t see Selvis at first as her attention was of the ship and getting back to it as quickly as possible, in fact the first time she recognized that someone was nearby was as his arms went around her in a comforting gesture was taken as such.
“Let me go!” She jerked away from his touch as she had been branded; thinking for a moment one of the beasts from the alley had followed her and was trying to take her too. Her vision cleared and instead of seeing one of the snarling faces from the alley, she saw the concerned, and confused, face of one of her dear friends.
“Oh Selvis, I’m sorry I thought… I-” And she broke. Rushing into his arms, the tears finally fell. Nearly a year of living as a boy and keeping a tight lid on her emotions had been telling, and forced her to find a quiet spot alone when things became too much. But never had she cried. So much had happened, and with the combined feelings of failure at her attempt to help Caden added to the physical pain she was in from many bruises and the cut on above her eye, it was more than too much for her to take and Selvis happened to be the closest to her.
After a minute or so, the storm began to abate and she regained control of herself. As swiftly as possible, she disentangled herself from his comforting embrace, but only as far as to let his paw remain on her shoulder;
“I’m so sorry Selvis, I didn’t know it was you I thought…” She scrubbed her eyes with a paw, taking a deep breath to calm herself, shaking off his paw in an unconscious gesture that she made whenever she knew she had to stand alone.
“Caden and I were talking on the way back to the ship-” No need to tell Selvis Caden had been lying when he said he was headed for the ship “- and we stopped by an alley and all of a sudden a group of beasts just reached out and grabbed… and kitnapped Caden…” A paw found its way to her forehead, her dizziness returning in full force. “I tried to help, but they just, um hit me and left me behind… I guess they only wanted him because he was different or something.” The dizziness was getting worse and she found herself sitting on the ground to avoid falling.
“And my head really, really hurts…”
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Miri had chosen the cleanest look cup from the lot in front of them, and happily happened on a simple gin, and had been in the process of taking a drink when Molly elbowed her.
“Ah, Molly…” She groaned a little from having swallowed the drink with too much air. “He’s my Boss. Nothing more…” She shook her head. Molly had already moved onto tormenting some poor local stoat. This she had to see, though some of the grim amusement she would glean from the interchange was tempered by the weasel jack who was still trying to bore a hole with his gaze into the back of her head. She turned to look him again, stupid hat, Shaking her head she turned to look at the mini drama playing out beside her. Taking another sip, she sighed slightly… This was going to a long day, fun, but long…
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Post by Carrow on Dec 7, 2010 12:02:16 GMT -5
Selvis hadn't been expecting Elle to react in such a way. The longtail had absolutely no idea what had happened to his beech marten friend, only that she had surely been hurt in the process. She seemed shaken, though. Shaken and scared. His surprise at her reaction to his gentle touch soon gave way to deepest concern. He'd never seen her quite as rattled as this, and it was proving a lot for him to take in. He listened silently to what Elle had to say, taking everything in without saying anything.
When Elle came to a breathless halt, sitting down clutching her head, the mustelid tried to find the words to say in response... but somehow, he couldn't. He was thunderstruck. Completely dumbfounded. For once in his life the weasel had no idea what to say. All he could do for a moment was stand there, trembling with silent rage. Then his natural protective insticts took over, and he sat down beside Elle, holding her to him, gently but firmly as though he never wanted to let her go.
Right now, she was all he had left. Carrow was incapacitated. He didn't look like he'd be waking for quite some time yet. Caden was gone. The words hit him with all the force of a 24-pound shot in the chest. Caden... gone. This was almost too much for Selvis to bear, and he had to fight harder than he could ever remember doing in order to keep from crying. "Those bastards...," he said evenly, trying not to give in to the feeling of intense fury building inside him. His anger was compounded by a small dose of hopelessness.
"Those scum. I swear, Elliot, on my life, that if I ever find out who did this to us -" 'To us'. Not 'to Caden', not 'to Elle', not 'to Carrow' - the one creature who this would hit hardest if he ever found out. Selvis saw them as a tightly-knit group. What affected one affected them all. "If I ever find out, so help me I am going to make them suffer." The weasel was trying to keep himself from bursting out into a swear-filled rant. He rarely ever swore. Indeed, the mild-mannered mustelid was not exactly prone to any intense displays of emotion.
Things were different now, however. He was more than merely angry. He was incensed. Elle could see it in the way his paws bunched into fists, so tight he risked fracturing a bone or three due to the applied pressure. He had been on the verge of screaming in sheer frustration, but this never came to pass. When next he spoke, his voice was calmer, more even - but he had made a promise to avenge the hurt inflicted on his friends, and as Elle knew, Selvis Frenata never made a promise he didn't intend to keep.
"We are going to find him, Elliot. We are going to rescue him, somehow. We're going to need all the help we can get, sure, because not one of us knows where he's been taken, but I promise you I will not rest until he's back here with us." Then his voice softened considerably. "Now let's just hope Carrow doesn't stir until all this is over. He's very fragile right now... and if he ever found out what happened, he might just completely lose it." He was worried. About his mouse friend. About Elle and her physical condition. Above all, though, he was worried about Caden.
They had of course heard Willard's call, but Selvis didn't want to move anywhere. He wanted, needed to be there for his dear friend. It was one of 'the mice', as Willard had it, that picked up on it: Artivis Sylvaticus. The timid-looking rodent was feeling particularly small at that moment, but he turned around and smiled a little up at Willard. "C-could you come down here, please, whoever you might be?," he called anxiously, realising the weasel - smaller than the distressed Selvis - was probably another of their friends. Why hadn't he left the ship?
"Ocean? D'you mean that tall ermine that was around earlier? We had to leave without him. We're not sure where he is at the moment. He'll probably catch up to us later on, though." Her brother's soft voice had attracted the attention of Setiva. Eviros, by that point, was next to the shaken Selvis and Elliot, saying nothing, merely taking everything in and sizing up the situation. The attractive wood mouse turned around, beckoning to the weasel, her normally bright green eyes clouded with fear.
"Caden's been taken...," she murmured. "We're going to try and rescue him, but I don't think we can go anywhere for now. Elliot was hurt and we need to get him looked at somehow. Oh, and lest I forget to mention it, 'the mice' are Carrow's uncle and cousins: Eviros, Artivis, and myself.' So saying, she indicated the three-quarters of the Sylvaticus family that was present. "He's had a rough day..." I hope it won't get any rougher, she thought.
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Post by Ladorak on Dec 7, 2010 13:11:59 GMT -5
Caden was tossed like he was nothing but a sack of dried goods into a very dank and dark place. He was only dimly aware of it as he slowly started to regain consciousness. His paw moved out in front of him, sliding along the wet floor, and he tried to lift his head.
Before he could move, his wrists were grabbed and slid into two cold and hard loops that wrapped about his paws and snapped into place. Manacles chained to the floor were affixed to his forepaws, and he was shoved up into a sitting position. He had been kitnapped but once before in his life...and he was only about three or four years old at the time...but even then it had been terrifying. His mother had rescued him...or at least he thought she had...
He was sitting against a wall, cold laughter echoing in his ear. "Well, well." the voice was saying. It was smooth, like a knife of some sort, and it sounded almost a bit too sophisticated to belong to a slaver. As it turned out, it wasn't the voice of a slaver, but the civet from before, the one Ladorak had seen in the streets. "New meat eh?" stocks were still around his forepaws, and his hind paws were clamped to the floor in manacles similar to the ones Caden had on.
"Where...where am I?" Caden asked weakly, opening his heavy eyes and looking around him, though seeing nothing but indistinct blobs in the darkened dungeon.
"Under some old castle I would imagine. That doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're going to be sold as someone's personal property very soon...at a premium I bet, as your fur coat should fetch at least triple what I'm worth." this caused the feline like creature sitting next to him to burst into laughter. "You might be put to hard labor...but more likely you'll be serving tea to some noble here and whipped if you don't do a good enough job. Hahahahah!"
"Please...please help me..." Caden mumbled, rattling his chains and trying to slip free.
"Oh no one can help you now. Your fate has already been determined. You'll be auctioned off at market like a fine oak desk...or some such other piece of inanimate furniture. Hah!"
"No...no...l can't...Ladorak." he called weakly. "Ladorak! Help me!" He slumped against the wall, feeling the pain in his head from where he'd hit the cart. He needed to regain his strength...blast he was hungry! He hadn't eaten at the cafe, and the albino found he was absolutely starving. He wanted out of here...he wanted to go back to the ship!
Closing his eyes, Caden softly conserved his strength, the tears glistening like diamonds in the very poor lighting of the room as other potential slaves groped and moved on the floor about him.
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Ocean was standing outside a large Horde fortress. It was a castle constructed along the waterfront, part of the seaward defenses of Tunis. It was garrisoned in times of war, though the basements and dungeons doubled as slave holding cells when the city was at peace. Or at least the kind of perpetual peace that involved constant infighting and bickering and not being attacked by a foreign power.
He had not dared go in. The hulking jaguar guards that stood outside had ensured that. The ermine didn't fully understand. It seemed to be a military base...but how could they condone what had just happened? The problem was that they had not primarily seen Caden being carried in, as the dungeons were below street level and were not watched as closely as the front gates were.
The only guard on duty had been slipped a few gold coins and had left his post as Caden was brought in a few minutes later. There was no way Ocean was going to head in there. The minarets and battlements towered above him, and he gulped as he thought of what it must be like for kitnapped striplings and others inside.
He would need to get back and inform Jal Sylver and the Captain of this. He only hoped he could locate the ship again. It was along the sea yes...but he was on the street side, and he would need to wind his way back through the markets and alleys and thoroughfares and try and get to their berth.
He was fortunate in that no one knew he was in ermine all year round. It was the time of the year that stoats turned into ermines, so passerby simply thought he was a normal stoat. Had it been summer and they had seen him well...they might have considered him a very rare specimen indeed, and he too would probably have been seized. But as it was, he was able to thread his way back into the streets without too much trouble, and he only hoped he could remember which castle it was, and that the Captain would be ready by the time he got back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ladorak Fugate tapped his claw on the counter top, resting his head in his other paw as he did so. Horse urine? How would she even know what that tasted like? He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she slowly and temptingly put the moves on a nearby jack.
He knew it was only a game, but still he could feel his innards boiling at the sight. The pince nez pinching his snout felt a bit more pronounced, and he watched as the jack stood up, absolutely stunned by Molly's display. It was so easy...he had been one such jack to fall under that spell years ago, on the dance floors of some party...though he couldn't remember which one it was. Oh yes...Frostbite Tarrin's useless celebration of his becoming a Captain...right. The Imperium treated promotions to Captaincies like you were winning promotion to governor or emperor or viceroy or something. In Welkin it was fairly commonplace and received little fanfare outside of the promotion ceremony.
Then again...he supposed if the entirety of your navy consisted of only three ships and not 115 or whatever Welkin had, getting promoted to Captain was a big deal. He drew his lips more tightly together as he watched the jack begin to wobble toward Molly. His Molly. At least Ladorak had the satisfaction of seeing Frostbite last less than a year in the post.
Ladorak sized the jack up. Not even a challenge. The way he walked indicated he was slow on his paws, and put his full weight down on them rather than walking on the fore most pads, like a swift and nimble stoat would do. He was clearly a little inebriated as well, due to his heavy lurch from side to side. Ladorak gave him maybe five seconds at least...ten seconds at best.
The ermine Captain swiveled in his seat at Molly's behest, eyes narrowed and staring right at the fellow, who only belatedly seemed to notice the bespectacled rival as Ladorak slowly slid down from his seat. Almost at once it was like Ladorak was someone else.
The ermine had drawn his jacket up very tightly against his body...mostly in order to show off the bulging muscles underneath as they flexed whenever he moved his arms in a certain manner. Ladorak's workout routine consisted of a jog of about five laps around the quarterdeck every morning, and at least fifty push ups behind the ship's wheel if not more. He also practiced every other day in swinging the massive blade Midlight Hammer back and forth in mock fights, and that alone was enough to keep his muscles well toned.
Ladorak was one of the curious breed who believed in perfect physical health and stamina to command a warship. Many Captains grew fat over their lack of exercise and amount of food they consumed, but Ladorak kept his body as a fairly fine specimen. There were of course better built stoats. He was naturally thin and lean, but for his build and his height, Ladorak was right on the cutting edge of physical fitness.
The jack's eyes popped, and he began backing away as the Captain advanced on him. The steely look in his eyes said only one thing. Pain would follow his advance for even daring to glance at his jill. The other jack was horrified, nothing but fear playing over his features as he stumbled backward, running into the table he had risen from, and falling unceremoniously down by the legs.
He was cradled now in between two of the legs that splayed outward from the center on the ground, and he was desperately trying to crawl back further, but could not clear the leg for some reason.
Standing over him, Ladorak's eyes narrowed even further, and with a smooth swish, the Midlight Hammer at his side was released from its scabbard. The black, carbonized steel caught the eye of every beast in the bar. Fiery opal set into the haft, the pommel was crowned with a purple amethyst that glinted in the candlelight that danced silently in the room.
The other stoat looked as if he was about to pass out as Ladorak swung the blade up single pawedly, and then swiped downward, stopping the great sword at the last minute and lightly tapping the stoat's neck with the flat side, the jack's eyes curling up into his head as he slipped into unconsciousness, fainting on the spot, though no physical damage had been done.
Sliding the sword back into its sheath, the ermine Captain spit onto the prone jack's chest, turned, and walked silently back to his seat. Sitting down, Ladorak's stone features turned to the barkeep, who seemed to freeze under his gaze.
"Scotch and soda." was all he said, and a silver coin suddenly spun and twirled on the counter top like a dreidel before it clattered down to a flat position. Nodding in a trembling manner, the bartender swiftly moved to ready the drink.
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Post by bookity101 on Dec 8, 2010 23:07:12 GMT -5
Miri smirked over the rim of her drink as she saw the stoat work his way as far away from the Captain and his flashing blade as he could before he passed out. ‘Wimp…’ She shook her head leaned over towards Molly.
“Don’t tell me that’s all you’re gonna do. Surely you have something better up your sleeve for dragging me along…” A slight smile accompanied her statement, so it wasn’t given annoyance, more like anticipation of what was to come.
_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_=_
Elle sat on the ground, her head cradled on her knees. She would have caught the sings of frustration from her friend, if she had been in any position to notice the subtle differences in her friends’ voice and posture. Currently all she could process was that her back and chest ached from the impact with the brick wall and boot respectively. And her head had smacked the brick, pavement and ham sized paw of her attacker. The cut above her eye throbbed and the heat, as mild as it was for the desert, was oppressive in the state she was in. And Caden was missing, taken by those ruffians to be… to be… she didn’t even want to think about what they might be doing to her friend. She stood, trying to steady herself, and failing. She moaned in realization, there was nothing she could do in this state.
“Selvis… can you take me to the ship?” She reached a paw out, wincing as the light hit her eyes again. “I know you’ll do everything you can but I… I really need to lie down.” She took a shuddering step towards the boat, not knowing how long her strength would last, but needing to get someplace that she felt safe before she finally did give into her body’s demands and sleep away much of the pain and dizziness.
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