To the mountains!

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Farrel, Lentle on a wheel chair, and a huffing Faffub kep pace with each other as they traveled through the green depths of mossflower woods. Farrel, a lvoer of the blade, drew a longsword, and span it in lazy circles, then, like lightning, whipped it bwetween Fuffubs ears, out, and slicced an apple off a tree. He caught it deftly, polished it, and bit into it, relishing the asweet, wild flavor. He sheathed his weapon, and walked over by Faffub.

"Faffub, I call you friend, but I don't know much 'bout you mate. It's a long wak to the mountains, so, lets tell each other 'bout each other. You first."

[Rapier]

(I hope you don't mind if I drop in, I can leave if you want.)

Scythe Stormfang held up his bow with the ease of one practiced with it, drawing the string back to full draw before easing his hold on the string. Then, in the space of a second, he plucked a golden feathered arrow out of his quiver, placed it on his bow, and drew back to full draw yet again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rapier Nightheart, his second in command, imitating his movements. Their other member, a muscular otter called Orion Starshard, was a little late in drawing the bow. Scythe rolled his eyes at the new recruit.

"And fire!" He called gruffly, releasing his hold on the arrow. Rapier did the same, and Orion a couple of seconds later, just as the forms of a hare, a pine marten, and an ermine in a wheelchair came into view. With a paw, he signaled for the others to put the arrows that were already on their bows away as he did the same. The two wildcats and the otter sprang lithely out of the big tree to retrieve the gold, silver, and bronze feathered arrows sticking out of the trunk.

As usual, Scythe was the first to turn around and size up the three beasts after he had picked out his arrow. He took three steps and proffered his paw, his cloak making him melt into the background of the forest.

"My name is Scythe. This is Rapier and Orion." He explained, pointing with his paw to first the wildcat and then the otter.

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Farrel turned at the sound of voices behind him. He saw two wild cats and an otter emerge from mossflwoers green ocean of foliage.

"My name is Scythe. This is Rapier and Orion." The first spoke. Farrel sized them up, and spoke.

"Well, I would love yo say pleased to meet you, but wildcats around here tend to be nasty little butchers. Are you nasty little butchers? If so, I'd have to decapitate you. But I'd rather not."

[Rapier]

"Well, I would love yo say pleased to meet you, but wildcats around here tend to be nasty little butchers. Are you nasty little butchers? If so, I'd have to decapitate you. But I'd rather not."

There was a silence between the two groups of three for five seconds, until Orion Starshard burst into hysterical laughter. Scythe gave him a disapproving glare and he gradually quieted, but Rapier still had the slightest hint of a smirk on his face as he opened his mouth.

"Decapitated? I'd like to see them try," Rapier scoffed, speaking what had been in the otter's head and twitching a claw. In the span of seemingly a heartbeat, Orion had an arrow on his bow and it was at full draw, pointing at Farrel's chest. Scythe moved his paw and, as quickly as it had been drawn, the arrow was put away and the bow was hanging loosely at Orion's side.

"We're vermin hunters," Scythe replied stonily. "We call our little gang here the Elite archers, and we're crack shots with the bow and our throwing knives. For your sake, I hope you aren't vermin, because we won't hesitate to kill you." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rapier and Orion's dangerous expressions and hoped the marten, ermine, and hare would take the threat seriously.

"Now, what are your names?" Rapier asked, his suspicious gaze threatening the two vermin and the hare.

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Just as the cat moved the arrow into plac, Farrel had a long dirk out in a throwing posiiton, one flick away from the cats eyeball. When he heard their occupation, he grinned, and yelled.

"Fayloooooor!" There was a whiz, thunk as the dirk imbedded itself half its length into a tree trunk, clipping a few whiskers off Orion. He smiled greatly, and put his weapins away.

"I am Farrel Foehunter Fettechur of the Strongtail tribe of the Southern isle Argong. I too, hunt down the vermin to clean up mossflower. A few weeks ago, I had been badly wounded, and was cared for at the abbey there aways." He pointed in the general direction of Redwall, the continued.

"It was a a noice place, but I wanted to head back out to get back to work. I'm accompanying these friends to the mountains." Then, he motioned to the ground.

"Sit friends, let's talk about peacefully." He sat down.

[Rapier]

Sit friends, let's talk about peacefully.

Scythe gave Orion another disapproving stare. The wildcat didn't like their members being made to look like idiots by pine martens. He made a mental note to put the otter on a hard work regimen so it would never happen again. Despite Scythe's new, slight, well-concealed feeling of animosity toward Farrel, he decided to give the marten another try and pushed the unworthy feeling out of his mind for the time being.

He sat down and gave the otter and the other wildcat a signal to copy his movements. Whereas Orion gave a grunt of satisfaction at this new development and slouched down as he sat, Rapier squatted on his hindquarters, ready to jump up and loose an arrow if need be. Scythe watched the otter to see if he realized his mistake, but he obviously didn't. Scythe decided to give him a lecture on what he had done wrong later.

Scythe took out his throwing knife and examined his expression in the hard, well-worn metal. He spun it in his claws and held it ready by his side. Rapier copied him, while Orion took out his knife and stuck it in the dirt. Scythe shook his head at him, then looked up at Farrel. "I hope you don't mind if we keep our blades out. We like to do it for first encounters."

[dirgecallers]

Lentle did not like the looks of the two cats at all. From what Lentle knew of cats, they were an odd breed. Famous for their indescivness and fickleness, they were not ones you wanted to mess around with. The Ermine did not want trouble, but he had to say something to these two. They would know exactly who they were dealing with.

"My name is Lentle Dirge, and as you can see, I am an Ermine. I am unforulantly confined to this chair, but that will not hinder me." Lentle said this, as he whipped out a sling from his pack. "I have some experince slinging, so I would advise you not to take me lightly. If you mean no harm, then of course I apologize."

"I hope ye beasts do me the kindness though, of stating your names though. We have been so kind and generous as to allow you the pleasure of learning ours. Plus it is normally custom to giver something of yourself before asking of another. I just wonder, how many travelers today have you welcomed this warmly?"

(done)

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Farrel turned.

"It's not their fault Lentle, jsut their trade. They are trained to kill vermin, and technicaly, you and I are, or at least look like vermin. I'm a weasely looking feller with lots of blades, I jump at me too." He turend back to the trio.

"Please though, tell us about yourselves, we will do the same."

[Rapier]

((dirge, if you would look at the second post, I already said their names. Then I asked what yours were))

Please though, tell us about yourselves, we will do the same.

Scythe pondered this thoughtfully for a moment, then signaled to Orion to start the conversation. The otter sat up a little straighter. "My name is Orion Starshard and I'm from Green Isle." he stated simply, and Scythe rolled his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, Rapier continued.

"I'm Rapier Nightheart and I come from Mossflower. My parents were from a vermin horde and when they died I was forced to live by myself, so I trained in using the bow." Scythe had to grin at this; it was a well known fact in the Elite archers Rapier had hated his parents and hadn't really needed them.

Scythe sighed as he felt all pairs of eyes turn to him.

"Scythe Stormfang. I've come here from the land of Actrune, where I trained until I was about seventeen, and then I left and ended up here, where I met Rapier and Orion."

[dirgecallers]

"Ah", Lente remarked. "Ye have come from far lands indeed. So far, that even I have not had the fortune to know whence you come. In your far off homelands, have ye not heard anything of the Land of Snow and Ice? It has been many seasons since I left. I seriously doubt any news has reached here, on this far shore,but I ask nonetheless."

Lentle winced, remembering his homeland. The pain would not go away,even after all these years. The endless wandering, the lonely nights...And it had all been for nothing. His revenge stolen from him, Lentle had drifted aimlessly, seeking no objective. He had had no purpose in life since his was fufilled. Mayhap that was why he was going on this journey now, to find a new purpose.

"Come with us," Lentle said to change the subject. "We are making a journey to the great badger mountqain. It is a long and perilous trek,and company makes it a little easier.It is not our final destination however. There is another place to go after Salamandastron, but it is even more perilous. If we three go alone, we shall undoubtedly face many dangers. But if the foe beast see six armed beasts going through mossflower, they might be less inclined to bother us."

(done)

[Sigurd]

(How much have I've missed, and why do giant posts happen while im gone?!)

Faffub, who had been surprisingly quite for a hare, spoke up. "Uh-hem chaps, I am Flip Anew Fur Foot Umbrun Bobbuck Barukal the 49th, Faffub for short, chaps. I come from a long line of Barons of the north, my ancestor was the first, Faffub Barukal the 1st. He was actually a Long Patrol General before he became a Baron. I plan on following in his steps, to be a general, good plan, wot?" Then he muttered, "Better than sticking up around North with a depressed uncle and the North Flu spreading." Faffub thought about the paintings of Faffub the 1st, Now that was a hare, long, tall, fast, strong, and sand colored fur, a Salamandstron hare. His own fur was cream white. He wondered how all those traits passed down through generations of Faffubs, the mountain fur never was, not even to Faffub the 2nd, he had cream white fur, too.

Fur didn't matter. The hare did. And the belly. And what feeds it. And what it tastes like. And maybe a whole cake. Or a Keg full of Brownnut Beer. Or... Never mind. Faffub went back to listening, and sizing up their position.