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Thread: The Runaway Galley Slaves (RP)

  1. #46
    Patroller Mulchior Lancer's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2014
    “Ma, these are the two that saved us,” explained Marla, bringing her mother to meet the two.

    “I’m Patchouli Mitchburr Dequence ma’am, pleasure to meetcha wot!” introduced Patchouli, doing a short bow of respect to the two.

    “An’ I’m Furlough Scalloway,” added Furlough, bowing as well to the hedgehogs. “Jus’ two free beasts on th’ trail after th’ corsairs that kidnapped us an’ made us slaves.” Leyah bowed low, and shook the two’s paws as tears streamed down her face.

    “My name is Leyah Barbzwood, and my family is forever in your debt for savin’ us,” thanked Leyah,

    “Think nothin’ of it marm,” replied Furlough with a smile. “’Tis a pleasure to help ‘onest creatures in need.”

    “Ma, did Ursil make it back?” asked Marla, looking around the clearing for her brother. Leyah shook her head with a worried expression on her face.

    “No he hasn’t,” answered the apprehensive mother. “I thought he was with you?” Marla went quiet as the two looked at each other. Sensing the growing panic in the two, Patchouli stepped in to ease their concern.

    “Nothing we can do at the moment in all this blinkin’ darkness,” said Patchouli, before giving them a reassuring look. “The lad could show up any moment now. It’ll be light in about an hour. Young Furl and I will track him with daylight on our side. Won’t be hard for a jolly ol’ Long Patrol hare to track him, wot, we promise.” This calmed the two hedgehog’s nerves, and Leyah clasped the hare’s paws.

    “Oh thank ye, thank ye,” replied Leyah. “Please, let’s go inside then and have something to eat while we wait. My poor husband is still locked in the cellar, and he must be famished.”

    Marla ran inside, with Leyah following close behind. Patchouli and Furlough clasped Mireye’s shoulder’s tight.

    “Come on ol’ chap, let’s see how you like that cellar for a change?” prodded Patchouli as the two led their worried prisoner into the home.

    Edgar Barbzwood collapsed in his chair at the dinner table, exhausted and weakened from his imprisonment in the cellar. Marla and Furlough had helped him up from his resting position on the cellar wooden stairs and got him comfortable as Patchouli unceremoniously dropped Mireye on the cellar floor. The rat whimpered as the cellar door closed behind him, leaving him in the same darkness his band had left the poor hedgehog two weeks ago.

    The Barbzwood family was overjoyed at being free from their captors, though missing Ursil clouded the group’s joy as the family and the two adventurers introduced themselves. Edgar’s wounds had healed during his time in the cellar, but had developed a ravenous appetite with the lack of food. Leyah and Abresia served Edgar, Patchouli, and Furlough a plate of what the rats hadn’t tarnished, and each drank a tankard of fine October Ale.

    The food did wonders for Edgar, and by the end of the meal, his spirits had returned and looked much fitter than he had before. The flakey crust of the cinnamon apple pie melted in the two’s mouths, having been deprived of such delicacies since their time on the Bloodrine. If the two adventurers weren’t about to go on a search and rescue mission, they would’ve eaten their fill of the savory delights. The Barbzwoods kept themselves distracted from worry by asking their rescuers many questions of how they came to their land, and how they discovered Marla.

    Soon Furlough felt the lull of sleep pulling down on his eyelids, with the combination of the fine food, good company, and comfortable surroundings. “I’ll keep an eye out fer Ursil,” yawned Furlough, as he stood up. “I’ll holler if I see somethin’.” The otter knew if he stayed, he’d dose off and be unfit to search for the missing hedgehog.

    “You two are lifesavers, that’s fer sure,” complimented Edgar as he filled his pipe. “I thought fer sure I’d never see m’ family again, what with those freeboaters pushin’ m’ family ‘round. Our home is yer home as long as ye like.”

    “Well, ye won’t have to worry about those scum bothering ye no more,” promised Furlough before ducking out into the outside. “We’ll catch the one after yer son an’ teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.

    Furlough walked a slow, steady march around the entrance of the Barbzwood tree, breathing deep the cool early morning air. His eyes roved around the shadowy landscape, looking for any signs of the missing hedgehog, but he saw naught but the swaying of trees in the wind. The otter heard a twig snap that broke the silence, but could not find the source of the noise. Spooked, but undeterred from his duty, the lad returned to his patrol.

    The land reminded him much of the woods surrounding his home, yet the terrain remained unfamiliar and alien to him. For the first time in quite a few days, the lad felt homesick. Seeing Marla happily reunited with most of her family brought back memories of his family and holt. Furlough sniffed, but pushed those feelings aside. Perhaps one day he’d see them again, but the otter wondered if they’d recognize the otter he had become. Welt’s taunt about blood on his paws came reverberating back to the forefront of Furlough’s mind, causing the otter to sigh and shake his head.

    Turning eastward, Furlough saw a most welcome sight peeking out over the tips of the treetops. Like an old friend returning from a long trip, the sun brought its warming light to the Northern lands. Furlough smiled at the sight of his old friend, enjoying the view after a long absence while in the galley. The otter marched back to the Barbzwood home to alert Patchouli and prepare for the search for young Ursil.

    Furlough and Patchouli stood at the entrance to the woods in the northern direction where Ursil’s tracks began. The Barbzwood family had come along to see the two off, but Edgar then moved alongside the two searchers, ready to join the party.

    “Ah’m comin’ with ya,” grunted Edgar, shouldering Grimtongue’s axe. Unlike the rat, the burly hedgehog was used to wielding axes, though only for lumber in the past. Now the hedgehog had some of his strength back, and he wanted revenge. Leyah frowned as she tugged his vest.

    “Y’sure ye should be doin’ that after bein’ stuck in th’ cellar for so long?” asked the worried househog. The large hedgehog let out a belly laugh and kissed his wife on her forehead.

    “Course I can, yer harvest pie put th’ strength back in m’ bones,” comforted Edgar with a wink. “Don’t ya worry ‘bout liddle ol’ me, ‘sides, I wouldn’t be able ta rest knowin’ mah son’s lost out there with vermin on his tail.”

    Leyah sighed and shook her head in resignation, knowing once her mate had an idea in his mind, he’d see it through. Marla also moved next to her father, producing her brother’s sling in paw.

    “I’m coming, too,” said Marla with determination. “’Twas my idea he’s in this chase, and I’m going to help find him.”

    “No dear, ye can’t endanger yourself again,” cried Leyah, but Abresia held her daughter-in-law’s paw and patted it with her old, grey spiked paws.

    “Leyah, we’d still be bakin’ if it wasn’t for her gettin’ in danger,” reasoned the elderly hog. “She’s a tough ‘ne, ‘sides her poppa an’ two brave warriors’ll be watchin’ her.”

    “Aye, she’s in good paws, right Patchouli?” added Furlough, vouching for the young hedgehog. Leyah frowned, but relented, seeing that no one else agreed with her.

    “Very well, though I don’t like it one bit,” sighed Leyah, scrunching her apron with her paws.

    The four beasts waved goodbye as they set out on the path in pursuit of Orsil and the last rat captor. The two sets of tracks were still fresh and well defined, making for easy tracking. Once the four were out of sight, Abresia and Leyah returned back to their home, with Leyah giving one last glance before descending out of sight and locking the door from any further intruders.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  2. #47
    Patroller Mulchior Lancer's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2014
    Daylight was not a welcome sight for young Orsil Barbzwood. The hedgehog had spent most of the night staying one step ahead of Herg, his rat pursuer, running over small hills and hiding underneath fallen logs. Every time the lad thought he had lost his foe, moments later, he’d hear the rat shouting after him and a set of paws running after him. Now, with the sun over the horizon, there was nowhere to hide, and it had become a test of who could outlast who in a race for freedom.

    Orsil panted, his tongue lolling to the side of his mouth as he held his aching side. Steeling a look back, the rat was still following him, but exhaustion was setting in for him as well. The rat slumped as he ran, huffing, puffing, and cursing loudly as he gave chase. Despite the rat’s tired appearance, Orsil dared not stop his miserable run, thinking of the terrible things that the rat would do to him once he caught him.

    “I’ll –huff- cut off yer footpaw –huff- runt!” swore Herg, persuasion not being one of his strong suits.

    “G-Gotta catch me –huff- first,” gasped Orsil, determined to keep out of Herg’s reach.

    As Orsil ran down the hill, his momentum increasing due to the incline of the hill, he could see a gorge ahead. Orsil shuddered at the sight of it. The Slithering Gorge was what his father called it when he took Orsil on a hike together earlier in the spring. He was warned never to go there, due to the dangers within the gorge. Local lore told of stories of a dangerous and mesmerizing adder that lived in the sunken land. Due to the strong wind coming from the ocean, the leaves from the surrounding area would end up there, creating a layer of dead leaves covering the damp and mushy floor below, perfect for an adder to hide in ambush.

    At the tip of the gorge, a simple rope bridge had been built, if one could call it a bridge. Two posts were placed on either side of the gorge, one rope for handpaws, and one for feet. To make it across the shallow drop into the gorge, one had to slide across with careful sidesteps. Orsil gulped, if he was to reach help on the other side, he’d have to cross it.

    The weight of reaching flat land once again almost caused the hedgehog to tumble from his weight onto his tired legs, but Orsil recovered and darted straight for the ropes. He’d have to be fast to put as much distance between himself and Herg, or the rat would surely pull him off, and then cut off his foot.

    Herg saw Orsil head towards the ropes and his spirits lifted. If he could just make up the ground between him and the hog at the beginning, he could just drag the brat off and end this chase. Reaching the bottom of the hill, Herg made long strides to the rope bridge and hopped on, the ropes shaking with the weight of two beasts trying to cross it. The two slid further and further across, Herg reaching out once or twice, just barely touching Orsil’s spikes as the lad hurried along for his life.

    “Almost gotcha now runt!” threatened Herg, hoping to rattle the hedgehog into making a mistake, but Orsil stayed focused, refusing to look to his side. The two huffed along to the midway point of the rope bridge when Orsil’s eyes went wide. On the other end of the rope bridge, the rope had been severed to a few strands. At any moment, it would snap and send them to the ground below them. Orsil hesitated, then found his arm clasped by Herg’s powerful grasp, The rat dug his sharp nails into Orsil’s arm, drawing blood in the process.

    “This ends now,” growled Herg, spittle flecking from his mouth as he tugged on the rope in the direction back from whence they came.

    “Don’t pull or we’ll fa-,” warned Orsil, but the hedgehog couldn’t finish his warning. With a snap, the rope broke in two, causing the two to wobble on the lower rope before tumbling over the edge and down to the ground below.


    The two landed hard on the floor of the gorge. Orsil lay still for the moment, stunned with the air knocked out of his lungs. The massive cushion of leaves had broken his fall, or the damage could’ve been worse. The hedgehog heard Herg moan in pain beside him. Both sat up, with Herg holding his right arm in pain. The rat landed on it in the fall, and the arm hung to his side in an unnatural angle. As Orsil gasped for breath, the realization of where he was hit him, filling the lad with immense dread.

    “Me arm, I thinks it’s broken,” croaked Herg to himself, wincing in pain. Orsil stood up as his breath came back to him and looked around in a panic, his feet sinking in the soft and muddy ground below the leaves that went up to his chest. The walls to the gorge were too steep and smooth to climb out of, and the gorge itself went in two different directions, with corners on both sides to hide how far he’d have to walk.

    “Oh no,” cried Orsil. “No not here!” In a panic, Orsil turned right and began wading through the leaves, leaving the rat groaning in pain. The terrain made running impossible.

    “Wait, don’t leave me,” sobbed Herg, terrified to be left alone with a broken arm. Herg tried standing up, but with his broken arm he kept falling back on his behind in pain. A moment later, the hedgehog was around the corner and out of sight.

    Herg rocked back and forth until he was finally able to stand. Turning to his left, Herg tried to grasp the situation he was in, but something seemed off. Ahead of him, leaves rustled and shifted, as if carried by a breeze, but the rat felt no wind bristle his fur. Just as the movement reached a few feet away from him, the large grey form of an adder rose from below the brown and red leaves with a sickening crackle. The grey adder stared straight at the terrified rat, bobbing and weaving its massive head as his tongue flicked, smelling its trembling prey.

    Herg couldn’t move, held firmy in place as the adder hypnotized him on the spot with his piercing gold eyes. The rat made no sound, no cry of terror as his mouth went slack in awe at the terrifying monster in front of him. The adder moved closer as it circled around the frozen rat, letting out a low ominous hiss.

    “I am Orniassssss,” spoke the adder, in between flicking his forked tongue. “You are hurt, yessss?”

    Herg nodded slowly in answer as Ornias circled around the spellbound rat again and again. The adder made a tsk noise as it shook his head.

    “Then let me end your ssssuffering,” hissed Ornias in mock pity before raising his head to strike.

    Ornias the great adder stretched himself out, as was his custom after a meal. Flicking his tongue again, the adder smelled the lingering scent of another creature trapped in his domain. The adder moved from side to side until the leaves covered him once again. Ornias was in no hurry; he often kept a few trapped and entranced prey when they presented themselves. He’d go and capture the other one when he was ready and feast again when he was hungry. Perhaps, if he was lucky, even more meals would show up today, as there had been over the past few weeks. The adder smiled to himself as he settled in for a nap.

    After all, the other one was headed straight for his den. He wouldn’t even have to drag the pitiful creature there himself!

    ((And that's part three. Hopefully there's enough there for you to play around with, if not feel free to shoot me a PM. Trouble ahead for our small band of heroes.))
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

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