TGS - A stubbed direction [PLOT]

[Rasthur Grassrunner]

((For those of you who are unaware. This is Ashstripe. And this is the plot thread.))


Upon the flesh of wood...

Fear. It had been a long time since Rasthur had experienced such a sensation. Many many years in fact. But he could still recognise it. As if he was still a little pup cowering in the arms of his mother. But the fox was terrified, he had a dream. He never had dreams. He could never remember what the world looked like.

But tonight was different. He had dreamt and saw.

Amongst the mark of ashen...

It was a mouse, a strong, heroic mouse. Radiating a saturated aura of confidence in power, wielding a sword that he had seen in the paws of William. Speaking in a calm yet dangerous voice - this was a beast who did not speak in idle threats as the old fox had.

Seek the light where the glow may fall...

It wasn't a good sign. Nothing involving his past was a good sign. And the return of his sight was probably the biggest reminder of all. The fox was running, not walking, nor hobbling but running. Frantically through the halls of the Abbey, as if this phantom mouse was still pursuing him for a lifetime of sin.

"I'VE REPENTED!" The fox cried out unexpectedly, like a mid-night chime of a clock he roared as loudly as his deflated lungs could manage.

You are very far from knowing all, old one...

Rasthur wasn't in control of his mind or body, he never ran anywhere, the fact that he hadn't run into anything yet only sought to unnerve him further.

Seek the light where the glow may fall...

Those phantom, cryptic words were repeated, was this mouse mocking him? Did he dare to mock him? Striking out at an old blind fox and mocking him!?

Whether he deserved it or not was debatable but Rasthur didn't have a moment to think on that for the inevitable had occurred. He tripped and fell, he wasn't sure what, he wasn't sure where all he knew is that he had fallen onto the familiar cobbled stone floor.

He lay there, panting...This wasn't real...This couldn't be real...

A sword, a scabbard...Will you be my shield?

That infernal voice! Just as soon as he began to regain his grip on reality did it return to step on his paws!

A pen, a scroll...The path it shall yield?

That was all Rasthur needed, now the voice was rhyming, he swore under his breath in between gasps. This was a horrible dream he knew it, no one spoke in such an other-worldly voice.

My home is yours...Your sins are mine...Indeed tis' a fine line...

The old fox punched what he assumed to be the ground in desperation, like a child throwing a tantrum,
"WHAT IS IT YOU WANT!?" He roared again, the fox then spluttered from the effort and strain he had placed on his lungs, he was too old for this...Had he truly lost his mind? He couldn't even hear the gentle breeze anymore or even the crickets chirping.

Redemption. Retrieval. Retribution...Rasthur.

"STOP SPEAKING IN TONGUES!" Rasthur demanded fiercely, with more bravado then he believed he could muster..."I HAVE REPENTED!"

Silence...The voice had given up. Sighing a breath he didn't even realise that he was holding, Rasthur felt around for his cane. Had he even brought it with him? More importantly, where was he!?

Blasted Abbey...All felt the same.

Eventually his paw fumbled upon a small leathery square...A box?...Too thin for that...The leather was split in the middle with another strange material, sandwiched in between...

"I am going to kill that mouse if I ever find him.."

[Wildrun]

((Yay, plot thread. I take it it's open, and Oaklea won't get her tail kicked out of the Abbey for wandering around at night? ^^" ))

The night wasn't clear nor clouded, the thin wisps of cloud that flitted across the stars occasionaly clutching at the moon but never holding on long. The mild breeze was not even loud enough to cover the sounds of the crickets and nocturnal woodland dwellers.

Nevertheless, the black-furred mousemaid slumbering in the lower branches of the bare oak tree cracked an eyelid, trying to think through the dazed warmth the thick blanket provided. She couldn't put her claw on it, but something...was out of place...What could be out of placeo nsuch a peaceful night...? ...Oh, that was it. Of course, if the night was peaceful, then nothing should have wakened her.

What, then, had?

Oaklea suddenly opened both eyes wide, blinking them with a sleep-deprived groan. She tried to sit up, only to be arrested by the heavy blanket. Muttering a few curses under her breath, she squirmed and wriggled until the wieght slid off her and dropped softly to the ground.

With a sigh, she peered towards the ground, glaring about suspiciously. This had bloody well be not one o' those times where I've woken up for nothing. I was sound asleep, confound it! And I needed that sleep, too...Blast it... She couldn't supress a yawn, and had sleepily decided to shimmy down the trunk of the oak and grab her blanket. Mayhap she not even need to climb up to her branch agian, she could simply sleep at the trunk of the tree...

...I have repented...!!!

Oaklea dropped the blanket, suddenly wide awake, ears twitching as she listened. After half a minute, there was no more. She glanced at the blanket dubiously. "...Might as well go take a walk," she muttered, and slipped off silently to the door leading inside the Abbey.

Padding sofly, black as a shadow against the unlit hallway, Oaklea had nearly convinced herself she was hearing things when her keen ears picked up the sound of gasping breath.

Sliding around the corner cautiously, Oaklea stopped short at the sight of the old fox kneeling on the flagstone floor, fumbling with a small object...He muttered something...

Oaklea raised an eyebrow and took another stpe forward, bending down to assist the fox and looking at the small square in his paws. "I certainly don't know 'oo you're talking about, mate," she told Rasthur with wry cheerfulness, "But you'd better hope that no one else in the Abbey heard you earlier." Her tone was slightly sarcastic--she'd never spoken to Rasthur for any length of time or gottne to know him at all well in her short stay at the Abbey, but it didn't matter--she was awake now, and wanted to know what was up. "...Terrible things, nightmares, eh?"

[Mako]

(Time to bring in a new character... Lets see how they act, Ash. And yea... still very sorry )

A boat pulled up on a shore, and Ash climbed out, one sword in paw and clambered up the steep sandy hill, searching for something. No. Not something... Someone. Nathair, the rat that tortured him. That rat that imprisoned him and made him an assasin. Nathair. The leader of the Green Biret. Nathair... His next target.

He made it to the top, and looked over the whole area below, and searched the field for the headquarters of Nathair. Ash's eyes moved, but his body was still, then, his eyes joined stopped and stared at a mountainside, with a door slightly open. A smirk crossed his lips, he ripped off his shirt, and gave a blood curdling cry and charged down the field. But wait... Where were Ash's scars? Where was his half blindness? Now, those thoughts didn't cross Ash's mind, for all he cared for was killing that rat.

Ash's cry stopped midway, and all of a sudden, he just threw himself flat, for out of the door, came Nathair the rat. ash chanced a peek upwards and noticed no guards, but Ash saw Nathair cleaning something in his hand. He gave no further notice of it, jumped to his feet, and charged down the field, nostrils flaring, teeth pulled back in a most menacing growl, and eyes red, and charged towards the rat.

Nathair finally turned around, saw Ash and threw something at him. It was a dagger, which managed to clip Ash's shoulder, but did not slow his speed at all. He kept going, and Nathair realized this and fled. The rat ran for all his worth, but still Ash was catching up on him.

"I'VE REPENTED!" Nathair shouted, and Ash threw his sword and killed Nathair. Ash calmed down, and a grin of triumph crossed his lips, replacing the growl, and his eyes went back to their green-ish emerald color. He placed one foot on Nathair's body, and let out another cry of triumph, but then... the earth rumbled, and a crack opened up, and swallowed Ash along with the body of his former master down it, with Ash growling and screaming for all his worth, then... before he hit the bottom...

...He awoke. He shot up in his bed, and cursed loudly when he banged his head upon his shelf, and cursed even more when he felt blood trickle down his eye. "So... The great Nathair repented in my dream... Ha ha." He said aloud, but then he frowned... "Why was it just a dream?! Why was it JUST A GO--"

"I HAVE REPENTED!"

Ash turned his gaze sharply towards the door, grabbed a lantern and stood up slowly. No... Nathair coulodn't be hear... Could he? Ash slowly walked out of the room, and peeked around the corners and saw a fox, older than him, looking defeated, but also screaming, "I'VE REPENTED!" The fox shot by him, and he looked down the other way where the fox finally stopped, and punched the ground.

Ash had enough, and he walked out, growling in his usual way, "Why do you go and awa--"

"STOP SPEAKING IN TONGUES!"

The fox shouted again, and Ash was this close to cracking him acorss the head with his tonfa, but chose not to, for when he saw this fox's face, his features softened, and he was so intent on what was happening with the fox that he didn't realize Oaklea walk by him and towards the fox.

Then, the fox muttered something, and Ash was really getting fed up. Not with this fox, but whatever it was that was tormenting this fox. He walked over, and an emotion he hadn't felt in over 30 years returned: Pity. Ash held the lantern higher, though it wouldn't make much difference, because Ash was blind in one eye, and color blind in the other, but at least it somewhat alluminated the area... At least enough for him to see.

He soon made it to the fox and laid a hand on his back, and gave him a light pat, "It's alright, mate. Just a dream. Nothing to get afraid of. Let's go, mate."

"But you'd better hope that no one else in the Abbey heard you earlier."

Ash's head snapped towards Oaklea, and he did all he could to not growl, "Leave 'im alone. can't you see he's been troubled by something?" Ash's voice was not gentle to this mouse, and soon, he concentrated back to this fox on the ground, "Alright, Rasthur. Let's get you back to bed." Then he remembered... Rasthur... The blind fox. The older fox. Rasthur always walked with a cane, and Ash didn't see any nearby. He muttered something to himself then pulled outhis tonfa, and laid it next to Rasthur's hand, "Here, mate. There's my..." he thought a while, then sighed, "... You're.... cane. You dropped it."

Whatever Ash was doing now, he'd never done it before to any beast, but then again... Ash never really saw any beast as petrified as Rasthur.

OOC: Ash, you're post was EXCELLENT!

[William]

(Bloody Finals....making me miss the opening of the plot thread >.<)

It was another one of those nights for William, where the day just seemed to drag on forever because his mind was lost in his own memories. And, like normal, his mind wouldn't be back until after a nice long sleep. But this time it was different for the warrior mouse, this time sleep eluded him, and therefore his mind as well.

Such a quandary found him on the parapet of the north wall overlooking the main gate(I think thats the right wall ...). His footpaws dangling over the wall and his paws under his chin. He sighed quietly as he looked out over the silent woodlands, which looked so much like a sea with the light breeze rusting all the leaves. "The sea....so much like the mind of many a beast. Impossible to tame, impossible to predict, and impossible to navigate." Resting further against the battlement next to him he closed his eyes as the breeze slowly ruffled his fur. Maybe now I can finally get some sleep....


But his ears twitched when the breeze brought him more then peace. A voice, crying out into the night. Slinging his legs back over the wall he listened, waiting to see if the breeze would carry him any more clues. There it was again, the same voice, but louder this time....Padding down the stairs he headed in the direction he assumed the sound came from.

Breathing in the warmer air as he closed the door to Cavern Hole behind him William kept walking. The voice had gone now, replaced by quiet murmurings of....three different voices it seemed. Shrugging he kept following the voices as they got louder and louder until he finally came upon the source.

Gasping for breath and muttering something about a mouse was Rasthur, with two other creatures next to him, a mouse and a pine marten. But Ratshur was what drew Williams eyes. He had never seen the fox like this before, he had always been slowly rambling around the abbey during the day time, muttering this and that about his old life. But it seemed as though he had been running...during the night.

Kneeling down besides Rasthur he noticed that he had something clutched in his paws, but that would come later. "Ratshur, are you alright?" He asked quietly as he looked at the other two beasts, nodding at them as he looked back to Rasthur...

(Ahhhh....good to finally post again. )

[Wildrun]

((Don't ya' just hate exams? DX ))

Oaklea sent a squinting glance to the pine marten, but she didn't say anything. So far the marten had only spoken to the fox, but the glare he'd sent her was enough to tip her off. She grasped the fox's forearm securely and gently as she could and started to pull him up. "C'mon, mate," she muttered to him, "Let's get you up off the floor. Don't let the monsters chasin' ya' see that they've gotten to you." Oaklea felt that somehow, what she said wasn't so meaningless--if anyone knew what is was like to have been chased by monsters of nightmares, she most certaintly did.

Of course, if she knew that Rasthur's monster was Martin the Warrior, she might not have said it at all.

Ash had offered his tonfa--a weapon Oaklea barely recognized but admired--as Rasthur's 'cane'. With her free paw, she tried to sweep it up, but found that she needed to keep Rasthur steady instead. With a quiet grunt, she slung the fox's paw over her shoulders and supported his weight. She sent a sideways glance at Ash, then flicked her eyes to the tonfa. Hopefully he understood she had her paws full.

William came around the corner, looking just as sleepless as the rest of them. Oaklea smiled gratefully at him as he tried to get the fox to speak, or at least rejoin them in the land of the waking...

((bleh. My muse has been stolen by exams. *gags* Can't believe I just posted that...DX))

[Rasthur Grassrunner]

((Considering I was on semi-caffeine withdrawal, I think it was alright, Rocky XD. And stop apologising! *Thwap*

All my threads are always open, Wildrun. =).

I'm still on my holidays for...Cripes, today is the last day!))

"Nightmares?" Rasthur questioned unexpectedly, as if the word had never reached his ears or vocabulary before. Yes, it was a dream...A horrible, horrible dream...His mind drifted in and out of worldly consciousness, the sounds and rhythm of the night stopping and starting abruptly. It was just one beast coming to his supposed aid so far and at the moment he really didn't have the energy nor will to reject it.

But with every movement, every breath that reached his ears, he twitched uneasily. Everyone was an enemy, anyone could be that mouse. Anyone could be plotting to kill him, anyone of them could be seeking revenge for a sin he committed so long ago. If his eyes could have widened they would of, for a long known fact finally made itself completely known to him.

He was a killer. A murderer. He had tip-toed around that fact many times in the past, dodging it almost completely, but this Mouse...This Mouse scared him...Was it wrong to fear the retribution of the fallen?

Nothing to be afraid of?

"Let go?", Rasthur nearly tilted his head quizzically, the voices were not so clear, the meanings were even blurrier, but he felt himself being raised gently and his paws guided to what seemed like his cane...But it wasn't.

"No!" The fox cried defiantly and swiped aside the would be cane, "I WILL NOT FA-..." He breathed a sigh of another held breath, that voice wasn't the Mouse's, it was much more gruff, "I...Will not use that." Rasthur eventually replied meekly, the excuse fitted him but it wasn't his real intention for once.

He nearly fell to the fall once more if it wasn't for the grip of whom he wasn't so sure, but it held him. Rasthur's breath had slowed slightly, he was still panting, he could still feel the sweat bead upon his face, but it was a step forward.

Footsteps...

Rasthur are you alright? That voice! It lacked the other-worldly tone and echo, but it was a mouse's sure enough. A look of stricken terror crossed Rasthur's features almost instantly and he broke himself free from all aid. All talk of killing this would be devil had faded quickly.

He scampered towards what he assumed to be a wall, his paws still firmly gripped on this strange item, nearly tripping along the way and head butting the wall unintentionally, he collapsed to the ground like a wounded animal awaiting the final blow from the hunter.
"Y-..You will not take me...I have repented...Repented!...My paws are clean..." He pointed an accusing paw at what he assumed to be the devil from his visions,
"S-seek the light where the glow may fall? Ha! Such nonsense! Your trickery will not fool me! I am blind, not stupid!" He laughed madly in defiance, but this laughter was more closely linked with shielding his pain and fear,

"Upon the flesh of wood? Amongst the mark of ashen? A sword, a scabbard, will you be my shield? Bah! I am no one's shield!" He ranted madly, repeating the words from his visions, phrase by phrase all the while laughing and smiling like a mad-man - all too convinced of his impeding death.

((The object in his paws is actually a journal XD. It was just my lame attempt at describing it through Rasthur's 'eyes'.))

[Wildrun]

((*pats Ashstripe* Break will come to thee again, Ashstripe...it will come...

... ^^"""" XD ...

We know it's a journal, Ashstripe. XD We're all just a bunch of gooballs. ^^" ))

Her paws flashed upwards, empty, as if to show the fox that she meant no harm. Out of the corner of her eye, she scrutinized William. As soon as he had spoken--or at least as soon as his words had reached Rasthur's hearing--the fox had gone apparently mad. Oaklea dropped her voice to a soft tone, murmuring gently as she edged near the fox, "...Calm yourself, mate, no one 'ere's going to hurt you..."

While she spoke softly, inching slowly closer to where Rasthur was cringing away from them, Oaklea's mind tried to keep pace with what was spewing from his mouth. She frowned slightly, and her brow furrowed. He's repented? Clean paws? Seek the light where the glow may fall...? Odd. That last part might be part of some kind of prophecy.

"Upon the flesh of wood? Amongst the mark of ashen? A sword, a scabbard, will you be my sheild? Bah! I am no one's shield!"

...Gods, it DOES sound like a prophecy...Then who delivered it to him...

The crazed tone tinging Rasthur's voice made Oaklea wince--she knew that tone. She occasionally used it. Suddenly the realization of how terrified of...SOMETHING..Rasthur was struck her. She stopped advancing and asked the fox now in a sharper, gruffer voice, "What did you dream about, old one? What's haunting you?"

She was worried, suddenly. Oaklea was agitated and fearful for the fox's sanity--she knew from experince that if you kept the monsters to yourself, they'd never leave you alone.

[Mako]

Ash looked down upon the old fox, still that gleam of pity in his eyes. Then, the mouse grabbed for his tonfa but missed, and Ash would've kicked her, but he remembered he was in an abbey, and he couldn't do that without being punished--something that never happened to him in a long time. Then Oaklea helped Rasthur up, and William arrived on the scene. Something bad scared this fox, and Ash didn't know what. He slowly walked past Oaklea and Rasthur and whispered to William, "I don't know what's up, and I know I ain't been here a while, but if something freaks Rasthur like it did, then if its bad, we're in trouble."

Then Rasthur went "crazy" almost, and said strange things. He gave William one last look out of his eye then walked back to Rasthur, and just then, his tonfa came bck at him and hit him in the leg. "Ay!" his gasp of pan echoed through the halls, and he gripped his leg and hopped on one foot to keep balance. The tonfa was harder then Ash took it for, then again... Ash never hit himself with it, so he never properly knew until now.

"Why you--!" He stopped himself before he further hurt this fox. Like my words would hurt him more, he thought, but still... even the mightiest of beasts in a condition like this could be hurt through a small amount of words if those words were anything like what scared them. He gave a deep sigh and walked over to help Oaklea with her burden, but then Rasthur scarmbled forward, and Ash went after him. He lifted Rasthur up slowly, and when he got him to his feet he wrapped one arm around the fox's chest to keep him from falling further, and before knowing he found himself nearly shouting, "What ails you, fox?!"

Then he remembered that look on Rasthur's face, that scared look, and he quickl y muttered an apology, "er... sorry, Rasthur..."

Right now, Ash wanted answers to what was happening, and he was going to find out sooner or later, "Rasthur... Ye look like you've seen a ghost, my friend. What frightened you?" The words came slowly and in a softer tone, but still Ash wanted answers. He loosened his grip on the old fox but still kept his arm wrapped around Rasthur's chest in case the fox scrambled forward anymore.

"What did you dream about, old one? What's haunting you?"

"Have you no respect for elders? Watch your tongue!" Ash's voice hardened again but kept it lower then before, and then he turned his gaze back upon Rasthur, as the fox spoke more,

"Upon the flesh of wood? Amongst the mark of ashen? A sword, a scabbard, will you be my sheild? Bah! I am no one's shield!"

"Heh... A sword and scabbard ans shield could be anyone's. It could be the Skipper of Otters, or even the badger lord, or even you William!" Ash scoffed, and then Ash began putting the clues together...

Rasthur acted strangely when William spoke, but not when any other spoke... William had a sword and scabbard of Martin the Warrior, and even the shield... Still, though the answer was close, Ash still didn't know. Surely William hadn't haunted Rasthur, but if not him, who? Ash looked then at the ground, and noticed his tonfa was still there, and he reached outwards for it, but didn't fully reach for he realized his hold on the fox was faltering. He rolled his eyes, the spoke up again, "Mousey... Oaklea, right? Fetch my ton--" he stopped, for he still didn't want Rasthur to think it was his, even though he probably did, "fetch the... cane... for me."

[William]

(Gah.....I hate school somtimes.....)

William raises his eyebrows as Rasthur's head snapped up to look at him, then promptly lept to his feet and ran away from him, albeit into a wall. Will stayed exactly where he was as Rasthur screamed at him, mentally he wrote down everything that Rasthur was saying, thinking that this must be important for Rasthur to be acting like this

He decided to stay back, for at least a little while, until Rasthur calmed down slightly. So he kept quiet, listening to the others as they tried to calm the old fox down.

With Rasthur's words still ringing in his ears Will began to think;

He was kind of calm when I approaced...yet when I spoke he seemed deathly afraid of me...but why? I've never shown any sign of trying or wanting to hurt him, only help him.

He leaned back against the wall and rested a paw on his chin as the others continued to talk to him.

A sword, shield, and scabbard. And now a fear of mice. What other mice would Rasthur know enough to be afraid of them? I don't know if he knew any before he joined the abbey, but if he knew one back then I don't think they could have haunted him so badly....

He idly drummed a paw on the hilt of his sword as he pondering Rasthurs ramblings, it was then that it finally dawned on him. Both why Rasthur was acting the way he did, and how important what Rasthur had 'seen' just become....Martin The Warrior had come to Rasthur in a dream to try and tell him something, that would explain why he was screaming about repentance. He must have thought that there was only one reason that a hero to good beasts would come to him, to haunt him.

Slowly walking over to Rasthur he set a paw on his shoulder lightly. "Rasthur, calm down, the mouse is gone, its just William, your friend. I won't try and hurt you." He looked toward the blindfold, then shook his head slightly, of course he couldn't see that he meant him no harm...Glanceing down at Rasthurs paws he looked back up "But I need your help mate, I need you to tell me what Martin told you, and what you have in your paws.." He said quietly, doing his best to sound friendly as he heard the pattering footsteps of other abbey beasts awoken by the screaming.
(If its too sudden Ash I can change it if you want)

Turning to Oaklea he nodded down the hallway and whispered quietly while still looking at the old fox. "Please go stop others from getting here, we need Rasthur to feel safe."

(I was thinking of an idea to get Slitty and his buds into this plot. What do you think of Slit and Hawk to have a big fight, verbal one, and splitting up for awhile? Hawk would go and help the evil beasts and Slit would help the good ones, or maybe not be in this plot. What do you think?)

[Wildrun]

((You guys can tell me to wait if I keep posting too soon. ^^"

Yeah, school sucks. DX I just got two days off, though, so that's fun. XD *throws snowball at you peoples* *sticks toungue out and ducks behind fort* Bwhahahaaaa~....))


Oaklea had frozen where she stood, half bent over, paws outstretched towards Rasthur in an effort to calm the old one down. She had frozen because she was currently focusing most of her energy into a furious glare aimed at Ash.

The mousemaid hissed quietly between her teeth, hoping in the back of her mind that Rasthur didn't hear her as she told Ash, "You might'nt understand, sir." The title almost sounded like an insult. "...That is, you might'nt understand if you'd never had a nightmare, sir. Or perhaps you have, one of the nice, little ones that let you stay in bed, sometimes even stay asleep and you forget about them by morning. I wonder, though, sir, if you've ever had one like this...one that terrifies you so that you wake screaming, so that you can't tell what you're doing, a nightmare that makes you physically, literally get up and run..." Her brown eyes bored into him. "...If you haven't, it would explain," she added coldly, "that you don't understand what you need to do after you've had a nightmare like that. You don't understand that you need to tell someone. You have to, or no matter how you go on everyday, your life will have ended, and you'll be afraid to sleep again..."

Oaklea stopped. She hadn't meant to tell Ash that. She simply wanted him to shut up. Almost as an after thought, Oaklea muttered under her breath, "Yeah, the cane." She snorted softly, glancing at it where it lay by her paw. She twitched her tail contemptously, and was sorely tempted to tell the pine marten to get it himself, but shenudged it with her paw and wrapped her tail around it without a word, tossing it lightly to Ash and not caring if he caught it or not.

"Please go stop others from getting here, we need Rasthur to feel safe."

Again Oaklea smiled at William gratefully, and swiftly trotted off briskly down the passageway to the right, the one the most noise was coming from. Her dark eyes were brooding for a moment, but she knew exactly what she was going to say. Turning a corner sharply, she nearly collided with the handful of Abbey beasts, all of them looking concerned or alarmed, one of them clutching a old rake defensively, looking ready to thwack someone with it. Two of them started talking at once, asking what had happened, who had screamed, was everything okay? Oaklea managed to smile sheepishly and wave a paw, even producing a small, embarassed chuckle. "Haha, it's fine, mates, everything's al'ight here." No, it's not. "Heh, see, I was wandering around the Abbey, you know, sleepwalking, uh, again, and it was a kind of odd nightmare I was having, and I took a fall down the stairs. Nah, nah, I'm al'ight, just fine...Yes, I'll be more careful next time, I swear solemnly I'll never touch an apple-rasberry cream pudding before bed again, heh...No, no, I'll not need the infirmary. Just a bump on the head, and we all know I'm already nutty enough up there. I'm fine, haha!"

A few more wary, not-entirely-at-ease questions from the midnight defenders, and Oaklea kept smiling and shrugging and assuring them of her health. Eventually, they accepted her version of the night's episode and turned back down the hallway to return to sleep.

When the last of them was gone, Oaklea's smile dropped. Her tail drooped, and she turned to jog--almost to run--back to where Rasthur, William, and Ash were. The thought of the second passageway slipped her mind, and she didn't check for any followers. Oaklea was worried, disturbed--what she had told Ash about 'real' nightmares was entirley true, but what was worrying her was that it had been nearly a week since she'd woken up screaming. Now Rasthur had instead. Did I pass it on to him, or something?

...I'll have to know what was chasing him to find out.

((*dies* Sucky post. Don't ask. ^^"""""

Which plot would it be in, Will?))

[Rasthur Grassrunner]

((Quite alright, Will and Wildrun.))

Laughter. The fox started laughing giddily. Rasthur never laughed. His laughter was usually a harsh dry chuckle to mock those who he deemed foolish. This was different. This laughter had a insane tinge to it.

"What haunts me?" The fox's laughter amplified as if that was the most stupidest question he had ever heard in his entire life, "Y'think the blindness is enough o' a reminder?" The giddiness returned as well as the giggles. The old fox was giggling.

"And what trickery is this?" Rasthur rose quickly, creaky bones and arthritis suddenly forgotten, "What trickery is this? Y'can't fool me. Y'can give me my sight and take it away, but y'can never fool me." His mood swung back and forth like a pendulum, from extreme fear, to happiness, to remorse, to now anger and defiance.

"My name, is Rasthur Grassrunner and I've slain many a greater mouse than you!" The small leathery object suddenly coming into his map of reality, the old fox clutched it tighter, as if it were his greatest treasure.

"Oh, why don't y'tell me? Martin was it? Makin' me run through th' Abbey, breathin' down m'neck and speakin' in riddles!" If he knew the direction of the mouse he would've spat to add to his defiance, instead he opted for a growl, it hurt his throat as it rose but it was created as he desired.

The pendulum swung back again and he collapsed into a heap onto his knees, "Y'give me sight and take it away from me...Is that supposed to be m'payment for takin' life? IS IT!?" The fox looked as if he was near crying but then again swung into the giddy bliss of madness,
"A pen, a scroll, the path it shall yield?" He spoke in a deeper voice, trying to mimic the other-worldly effect of Martin's echo.

Rasthur felt alone, the blackness that he saw seemed darker than usual as if there were only two presences in the room, himself and the supposed 'Martin'. The other voices, the other presences were blurred and marred beyond understanding, voices of the past? Voices of the present? It wasn't of importance, they were all likely phantoms to aid in this Mouse's trickery. First he nearly killed him and now he claims to want to help him.

Rasthur was no fool, he would kill him if need be.

But the voices multiplied and amplified, he could swear he heard the scraping of metal against stone...No, it wouldn't end like this, not here, not now.

We need Rasthur to feel safe.

He broke himself from aid again and felt the walls for re-assurance, he was cornered, trapped and unarmed. This wasn't a death worthy of a Grassrunner,
"Come to slay me have we?" The old fox cried out again, he didn't know what he was seeing but all the voices sounded so similar to the screaming echoes of the past, the metal on the stone was simply the trigger, "Ha! I've slain your Grandsires and sires and now you want to avenge them!? Come! I will finish my work!" He rasped out defiantly to no one in particular, he was making his last stand against the supposed victims of his sins.

If he couldn't have redemption. He would have retribution.

[Rocky]

I dont really know what to write... There's nothing really for me to post, so yea... You can skip me

[Yves]

((Hello. Well, I've been lurking for some time now, and I've asked several people, and my basic impression is that this roleplay is basically open. If this impression is ignorant of some rule or clarifying post somewhere, I'm sorry. I really did look. Feel free to delete my post and continue on your way if this is the case ^^;;)

Crimson blended with white, a glistening, trickling blotch on velvet under the idle dance of moonlit clouds. A squirrel trembled, hardly breathing, as this bloody well drew spider legs down his creamy breast. Maxmillian stood by on a tree branch, sword now in scabbard, hands folded at his waist. Some approach life romantically, seeing elegance and meaning in every leaf, every creature, every facet and particle of nature. Maximillian approached death in the same way.

The squirrel hadn't given much of a fight. He was only a humble denizen of Mossflower, a mere woodsman who had been foolish enough to confront this vermin. He tried to glare at Maximillian. The fire was not there; he was too weak to generate the flame, too lifeless to hate. He was only dejected, sad, but even that was beginning to fade.

That was Maximillian's signal. When hatred was gone, life was soon to follow, and the game was over. He placed a delicate finger on the wound, brought it to his mouth, and shivered with relish. "You sir, were spectacular. I've killed mole dibbuns that were less pitifully delicate in death. Thank you, yes, thank you very much for your time."

Thus speaking he turned his head toward the clearing he had been dutifully scouting before this interruption. The abbey loomed. Like every other night he had watched it, plotting his entrance, he began to waver. Why was it so necessary to infiltrate anyway? There was no life for him there, no particular reason besides this unaccountable, almost counter-intuitive, yet unshakable desire.

"Perhaps another night..." He muttered aloud. Just as he turned, however, a shout whipped him around.

"I'VE REPENTED!"

The shout may have caught the rat's attention, but it wasn't what held it. What mattered to him was the gaurds' reactions. That wretched mouse, so often on the northern parapet of this city, was distracted, probably along with every other waking creature in the abbey.

This was the moment, and Maximillian recognized it. With the guards distracted for only an instant, there was to be either instant action, or nothing. He jumped. He flew. He missed the ledge, hit the wall, and rapidly started sliding the wrong way. The ground was a blur, but a far away blur that was becoming less far away much quicker than the rat would have preferred.

Maximillian's gut had had flown up into his throat, and what little courage he had vanished as his good sense returned. The wall was steep, so much harder to scale than he had hoped. He had less than a second to find the groove in the wall, anywhere he could latch on, before he was little more than the proverbial grease-spot. He found the notch he needed, and pressed hard. His nails bled, but through some miracle, he stopped. It was little comfort to him; before he had even completely stopped falling, thoughts of the guards above, and what they would do to him if they caught him, drove any relief Max might have had far from his head. He didn't have time to think, no time to plan. He could only press as hard as he could, and jump for the ledge.

In his rush, he vastly overshot it. His head seemed to implode, as he toppled over the wall's ledge, and, by incredibly good fortune, rolled through a door, slightly ajar. He lay on the ground of an empty hallway, panting as the world swam in confused shapes, through him, around him, and just about everywhere else..

As his head cleared, fear took over, and, like fire through oil, shot through his resolve. Why was here? What would he do if he met more than he could fight? Could he possibly expect to lie and slither his way out of trouble, this late at night, a stranger in a hostile castle? He physically trembled, almost crying. "Idiot," he whispered, wringing his hands like a nervous old maid. Maxmillian was easily motivated by a thousand lusts this abbey could fulfill, all equally bloody, but most paled in comparison to his cowardice.

He might have stood there forever, shaking but paralyzed, if it weren't for noises outside. They might have been nothing but wind, or some animal in the forest, but they might as well have been fiery demons for the rat's reaction. Somewhere between jumping, falling, and running, he rushed in blindly. With no guide but a pounding heart and cold sweat, he slunk into the abbey, ever careful, but always holding his wits only with stretched, grasping claws.

Thus Maximillian made his way through the keep's halls, until he found a quiet, shadowy place where he stopped to breathe. For the time being, he was secure, or at least, that's how he felt.

"Idiot," he said again, "Keep your head. Y-you can avoid them. Just be clever, contain yourself, be a rat. Running from one enemy into the breast of another won't do you any good. Just... j-just find somewhere to hide for a while, a place where you can sit on your rump, twiddle your paws for a time, and plan the next move. You can do this... You've done worse..."

While he was speaking, Max Glanced around the abbey. Unfortunately, inhabited castles rarely incorporate designated rat-hiding spots into their design. He happened to notice an empty room, a tiny cubicle, little more than a nook. It was empty except for an odd piece of furniture, and some scraps of uneaten food. It didn't exactly look useful, so maybe no one ever used it, but...

"But it is a room, and rooms are built to be used, and if someone..."

Before Max could get his thought out, however, a shout froze his heart, and shattered it. The same person as before, the "repenter, " was ranting again, and he seemed to be getting closer. There was no time to think, and even if there had been, Maximillian was in no state for any such activity. He darted into the room, and sat there, listening, a hand on his sabre.

There were others now. Some seemed to be out to help this maniac, while others seemed annoyed, and bickered with this one and that one. Despite all the terror of his endeavor, Maximillian couldn't help but feel some fascination for this drama unfolding not far from him. He surmised that this fox, this Rasthur, was blind, and tormented by some plague, perhaps insanity. He clearly was not vermin, as vermin are typically understood, but, as he had so aptly phrased it earlier, a "repentant" sinner. So then, in his old age, he had forgotten evil, and in weakness allowed himself to feel guilt.

The rat may have been helpless, and he may have been a coward, but there was still a malign, sinister demon in Max. He smiled. This fox was prime material for the most tortuous methods he knew. Suddenly, the abbey was an adventure again, albeit a dangerous adventure. He knew why he was there, what this was all about. The rat wanted nothing more but the opportunity to contribute to this ailing fox's dementia, to play with the brittle toy he had so suddenly found.

The question for Maximillian now, was how to get at his prey without losing his hide. Unless his hiding spot turned out to be much more effective than the rat believed it, the others would likely answer that question for him in very short order...

((Ah... Well, this is a bit longer and more irrelevant than I had hoped ^^;; Sorry, being a bit of a fugitive, I wasn't sure how to involve the others without compromising myself a tad more than I'd prefer. I'll be briefer and more relevant in the future.))

[Swing]

((Hmmm, awesome post, dude, loved it. XD I think Max is slightly Joker-ish, but you underlined the cowardly part of nicely. Cool.

Ash, do we have a vermin treasure hunter? *glances at Yves*))

[William]

(Hey Vyes, welcome to the RP, good to have you here )
(And it would be this quest in its entirety Will and Ash, that Hawk and Slit would split up. Think I should do it?)

Sighing deeply Will took a step back as Rasthur screamed at him again. There wasn't much left he could try to calm the old one, and he needed to know what he saw, not just snippets that he was screaming at him.

Wordlessly he took the tonfa from Ash and turned to the demented fox. Sighing he slowly shook his head as he raised the wooden weapon and glanced to all the creatures before back to Rasthur. Gritting his teeth he swung the weapon down toward the old fox....

To miss him entirely and to fall limply at his side.
What am I doing?
He through slowly as he stood there looking at Rasthur.
It's not his fault his acting like this, what? Do I want to kill him?! His old body wouldn't cope with a hit like that....no, no. I have to keep trying

Setting the weapon down he looked back to Rasthur and slowly walked toward him. Looking straight at the blindfold he set both his paws on Rasthurs shoulders. "Grassrunner." He said, doing his best to sound forceful yet not like what he imagined Martin to sound like. "Is this really what your like? Running from phantoms of dreams and figures of long dead warriors. Your better then that, start to show it, toughen up and tell us what you saw."

Will closed his eyes as he finished, he would never saw this to Rasthur normally, but this wasn't normal, he was counting on Rasthurs semi-coherent state to snap out of it when given a direct order....Though he highly doubted it would work..


(Sorry if its bad guys , I haven't been feeling that great lately, but I needed to post again so this wouldn't stop.)

[Rasthur Grassrunner]

((It'd make things interesting, Will.

And I'm willing to take on another vermin faction, an individual at that. I'm curious to see how this will roll out actually. Provided Darkpatch comes up with his villains.))

And so the pendulum that was Rasthur's mood swung back to his default state of mind and remained somewhat still yet restrained. The source of his torment had suddenly disappeared. But that instilled more terror into him. Now he had no idea where he was or even where he could strike.

The old fox lay his head against the wall and sighed, his chest rising and falling quickly. Rasthur was still scared, but the voices were becoming clear. The voices of the fallen were silenced and he could now hear the land of the living.
"Toughen up?" He rasped coldly, yes he really was himself again, "My boy, my eyes have seen more than many should in their life-time." The senile old thing wasn't sure whom he was snapping at, but quite frankly, he didn't care. The voice had a point. He was Rasthur Grassrunner.

His lips curled into a smirk, an expression his face was well familiar with, "Of course, it is easy to claim proficiency with something you have never done. Phantom warriors? Bah! I killed them once and I'll do it again..." The smirk faded into controlled fear, a stiff upper-lip held back the scream that wanted to be released.

"What I saw..." Rasthur nearly grinned, he had seen something, he hadn't seen anything longer than he cared to keep track of,
"What I saw...Was not someone I killed...I...I don't even know who he is." The fox was delusional, even he believed it now, in his memories he had never seen such a mouse. He had killed countless mice to be sure, but they were all faceless victims in his life of sin. This mouse was different. He knew he could kill Rasthur and he would, given half the chance. At least, that's the intent he felt.

"Heh...Running from a mouse..." The fox chuckled dryly, he didn't doubt if he was placed in a similar situation again with that mouse he would repeat his actions. No matter how ridiculous it appeared in hindsight.



((And I magically changed Rasthur's manner of speech....He's senile...Or something.))

[Wildrun]

((We're all senile 'or something'. xP ))

The very air seemed to be heavy with the sense that something was wrong...

Oaklea's brows had furrowed, her mouth had turned into a brooding frown/scowl, and she was staring at the oppostie wall, lost in thought. Her mind was clicking along faster than her actual thoughts were, and she missed what William said to Rasthur and most of Rasthur's reply. The strange prickling sensation creeping up her spine and making her neck fur stand on end was an undoubtable warning, something had changed since she'd returned from putting off the Abbey Dwellers, something wasn't right...What...?

"Heh...Running from a mouse..."

"Don't be down on yourself," Oaklea muttered absently, partially breaking out of her broodings. "We mice are pretty tough. No rat in their right mind would mess with this Abbey, it's so chock-a-block with mice and other fearsome warriors." She attempted a smile, and decided to go with a chuckle instead--for one thing, Rasthur wouldn't see a smile. For another, a chuckle didn't come off as though she were plotting something (yet). No rat, maybe, but stoats...

A shadow cast by the torchlight in the corner of her eye seemed to flicker suddenly, erratically. She turned her head, looking puzzeldly at the torch in question and then at the other on the far wall. Her frown deepened just slightly. What was...

At that moment, her thoughts caught up with her mind, and she snapped back around at Rasthur, forgetting about the erratic 'shadow'. "Phantom warriors? What do you mean, phantom warriors?!" The edge in her voice was plainly audible, and she bit her lip a second too late to contain it. The fox seemed to be coming back to himself, though, so perhaps he'd answer...

((...I'll think of what phantom warriors mean to Oaklea by the next post. ^^" ))

[Rocky]

OOC: Theres nothing for me to post except spammy rabble stuff. I think Im gonna leave. Think what you want of me, giving me a dash (--) for leaving, do what you want, but there's nothing really for me to post. Ill join the next plot thread when I can.

[Wildrun]

((Awwwww...we'll miss choo. D: ))

[Yves]

((Aww.. I'm sorry Skipper ))

"...We mice are pretty tough. No rat in their right mind would mess with this Abbey, it's so chock-a-block with mice and other fearsome warriors."

"Peachy." thought the rat.

There were still so many unanswered questions about this whole misadventure. Why was it so desperately important to be here? Why hadn't he done some spywork ahead of time, get to know the castle's name, at the very least? Why hadn't he entered the abbey more slowly, instead of rushing in and finding himself suddenly lost among enemies?

"But none of that matters now... No, the solution now is not to whine or panic like some inexperienced brat about our screwups. That's in the past. What we need to do is to start behaving differently now, to proceed with caution, precision, and sense. What we need to do is... is..."

And that was about where Maximillian started drawing a blank. His options were few, and his prospects grim. He could not simply remain where he was, because first off, that would be pointless. He did not defy good reason and risk his life to acquaint himself with the insides of a storage room. Besides that, who knew how long the room would remain unchecked? A mouse might have been coming even then to pick up some scrap.

The more Max looked around the room, the less it seemed like salvation. There was one way in, and one way out, and that exit would probably lead him to an open throat, and perhaps worse. Images of his own cleverness in the tortuity of death rose up before him, but now there was no mouse under the blade, no hare caught in a trap. His liver was skewered, his intestines were emptied on forest floors, his body was mangled, torn by so many cruel terrors into a hideous, stripped mass of...

"No." he shook his head as he thought, "No, we musn't begin to imagine. Unlike you, these are civilized creatures, and this room is a prison. We miscalculated, and now our meeting with the enemy is inevitable. No stealth, or well-laid plots can possibly prevent that. It would be better to approach them honestly, forthright and with a decent excuse, than cowering, with some impotent weapon, in a dark, slimy corner."

So, that was it. He would have to take a risk, and try to convince these woodlanders that he was not the fiend he appeared...

"...But how could they ever believe that, with all the blood, that squirrel covered me in..."

Ah, the tell-tale stains. Maximillian had always been messy, and now it was catching up with him, this badge of his once-hidden violence.

"And yet... perhaps this could be our excuse."

Without thinking any further, he immediately took his saber, and cut his own arm, from the elbow to just the end of his wrist. Still struggling to maintain silence, he cleaned the blade on the inside of his vest, put it on the ground, and kicked it out amongst the woodlanders.

"I... I'm unarmed." he said, as the old fear suddenly took hold of him again. Blood rushed through his veins, pounding in his temples, causing him to tremble. His throat went dry, as his limbs turned to ice. He slithered out into the light, and knelt before the objects of his terror, eyes downcast.. "Have mercy on a fugitive... I come only seeking help, some water, and temporary refuge from my enemies."