Trials and Taxations(open/cont off to war)

[Wildrun]

Mapel grinned and, reaching into her pack, pulled out a thick, rolled-up scroll with a flourish.

"I like using my noggin, Sarge. Mapping, writing, and strategizing is what I do."

She no longer worried about being over-polite or too-friendly. This Sarge was a funny but nice old chap, and this was obviously a war march, so why not help in the way she could? Mapel weighed the scroll in her paw, wondering if that particular one would do agaisnt whoever they were marching towards, or if she should pull out a second one. "Would you like a look, sir?"

[Ashstripe]

Sarge's smile widened with the twinkled that sparked in his eyes, scholarly interests of any sort always appealed to him.

"Y'don't say? Always good t'now a chap or chappess who likes usin' thier 'ead fer more then growin' fur wot wot!" He twirled his moustache and adjusted his spectacles whilst he spoke, unconsciously leaning closer towards the paper that was rolled in front of him,

"Would h'I h'ever!" He clapped his paws in eager delight, the recent seasons had brought him nothing but war and training, the chance to read, anything appealed to him despite the fact that it may degrade his already poor eye-sight further.

[Grath]

"Nice to meet you, Miz Fern. I'm Tirael."

“Nice to meet you, Tirs.” Fern said, a mischievous look in her eye from devising a nickname for her new friend so quickly.

"Well, I'd be glad to give you some, although I think you'd better meet somebeasts before I can." Gesturing toward the path, he turned to her and said, "Follow me."

Fern turned big eyes on the company of hares. She had never seen so many creatures in one place, or even seen a hare in her life. “You’re traveling with them?” She asked to cover her surprise.

"Just Mapel is fine, please. I really hate titles." She laughed a little and made sure not to look at the approching otter--she'd go into hysterics again. "I am glad to have met up with the Long Patrol. Is it okay for me to know where we're going?"

“Just Mapel it is.” Enon said politely, “And Sarge can tell you that. I’m leaving.” The black squirrel stepped out of the ranks and skinned nimbly up a tree.

"Eeeh? Tis' in t'doctrine sirrah! Keep y'etiquette as sharp as y'blade and wits doncha know?"

Roseleaf arched a brow at Tirael, watching the two otters approach. “Who’s this, Tirael?”

[Wildrun]

"Right, thank you for..." Mapel tipped her head as Enon vanished up a tree and finishedh er sentence wryly, "...your help." The white mouse didn't ask where the squirrel was going--it was none of her business, and Enon had been very nice.

Now, though, Mapel smiled gleefully at Sarge's delight with the sketchings and notes she had handed him. She leaned fowrad eagerly and pointed out a spot on the parchment. "I hardly know who this force is fighting against, sir, but I'm confident that this will work well against at least a small army. I have plans to use against bigger oposition, if you like, of course, and it does depend on WHERE the fight is, but that can be easily modified." She stopped, blinking apologetically. "Sorry, I'm talking shop. Oh, er...Sarge, sir, may I ask where we're going?"

It sounded to her like a lame finish, but it was better than rambling about a plan the hare hadn't even looked at yet.

[Ashstripe]

The familiar dashes and rough sketches of the terrain felt like sweet forbidden fruit to Sarge's eyes, many a time had he been dissuaded from reading as to not degrade his eye-sight further but just as many times had he shrugged those warnings off, he would read until the day he died or went blind trying.

His eyes followed the markings, his brain a spinning top, whirling around, snatching up the image before him and absorbing all of the details. The picture was quickly and hastily painted, he already recognised a fair portion of the map, simply from his infrequent journeys up here, though only the one he had taken not too long ago had any truth left in it.

Just as quickly as he had started did he stop his train of thought, it crashed along the rails into the unannounced newly found thought, Maple's paw on the parchment. No sooner than had he snapped back into reality was he bombarded with conversation, had he been younger he would have gladly accepted this social challenge, but his jaw wasn't as strong as it used to be.

"Err...Wha?" Sarge replied in a rather senile tone of voice, he had picked up quite a bit from her words but apparently not the entire gist of it were his eyes to be believed over his ears. Without waiting for clarification, he cleared his throat to regain his shredded dignity,

"Erm, yes o' course, we're dealin' with the flippin' biggest army y'ever saw, then double that and y'should come close wot?" He smiled as a sign of good measure, glad to know someone shared a similar love of the scholar component of war.

Eventually he tore his eyes from the parchment with the question, that was something he knew how to follow on,
"We're 'eaded North...Int' some kind o' fortress or somthin' like that? Eh wot? Playin' the jolly heroes we are! Waitin' fer the last minute then chargin' in, wavin' our spears wot! Ha ha!" He proclaimed their destination with a mix of false heroism and general cheer, he was quite confident there wouldn't be much of a fight left when they eventually arrived.

[Tirael]

“You’re traveling with them?”

Tirael nodded. He was reminded how strange it was to be marching with an army; somehow he had never imagined that he would end up amongst so many fighters headed off to war. He supposed a peaceful life at Redwall was the cause. Reflecting on the happiness he had felt there, it was hardly surprising he wouldn't think of war. He came back to reality as he came near Roseleaf again.

“Who’s this, Tirael?”

Standing aside little so that Fern and Roseleaf could see each other clearly, he said a little awkwardly, "Uhh, Roseleaf, this is Fern. I, uh, we just met."

[Swing]

Mapel didn't seem to notice Sarge's lack of contact with reality at all. Instead, a misted, thoughtful look came into her eyes.

"The biggest army I've ever seen, eh...?" Had anyone tired to see what she was staring at, they might've wondered what it was that interested her so badly with the horizon--but Mapel wasn't seeing the horizon so much as she was a new plan, scrolling in her head.

She murmured again, "A huge army...a fortress...North, hmmm, might be going through the pass...Oh, I see. Yes, yes, I see!"

Carelessly abandoning her shy, polite nature, the fevor of her work caught up to her as she pulled the quill out of it's hold on her sleeve, swept her inkpot and a fresh parchemnt from her sack, and began scribbling furiously as she walked. Every now and then she stopped, letting her eyes flick over it critsizingly, and then the quill flashed over the paper again.

Suddenly, she stopped, blinking her eyes at the rough draft in front of her. Her eyes narrowed and she squinted at some of the marks she had made, the striaghtened up again with a curt nod. Recapping the ink pot and replacing her quill carefully into it's strap on her sleeve, she blew gently on the ink and smiled.

"There. I think THAT might do a bit better!"

[Ashstripe]

"Ol' gel?" Sarge restrained the urge to wave his paws in front of her face to snap her back into the real world with a carefully measured dose of self-control. Yet another trait they shared, drifting in and out of reality.

Occasionally the old hare leaned over her shoulder to capture a gander of what was being made, he could faintly make out a few minor details here and there but nothing large enough to piece a picture together. And whenever he felt he had grasped something, it was erased and replaced with more favourable tactics.

There, I think THAT might do a bit better

With a grab that could nearly be called a snatch and a mumble that could nearly be attributed to "Gimme", the old hare had the newly formed plans in his paws and was pouring over the them quickly, the formations were different, emphasising on diversionary tactics and distance and general use of the high ground. He smiled and nodded, noting that most if not all of the rules of thumb had been followed in the art of war.

"There was a dam o' 'ere too...A jolly big tankard o' water eh? Wot?" Sarge pointed at the aforementioned place on the map, "The main plan was t'flood the blinkin' mountain! Wot wot!"

[Wildrun]

Smiling hugely, Mapel nodded her head in what could only be described as a self-congragulatory way. Her ears pricked at the mention of a dam, and just stopped herself from going at the plan again. Instead, she lowered her voice to a confidetial whisper and asked the sargeant,

"Exscue me, Sarge, but what exactly is the name of this enemy we're up against? Corsairs, a horde? Or will we all be busy taking out the WARR brigade?" She smiled wryly, secretly hoping that it was not a horde or a band of WARR vermin...if she was lucky, it was corsairs...maybe even the corsairs she'd WANT to fight against...if luck held with her, and it hadn't so far.

Running into the Long Patrol and meeting her new companion was the only stroke of luck she'd had in a long time.

[Grath]

[[Is it just me or is this thread dragging on rather pointlessly? If its me I guess I can post again, if not should we start a new thread?]]

[Wildrun]

((I agree, it'd speed things up if we started the actual fighting thread against the "flippin' biggest army y'ever saw", eh? ))

[Ashstripe]

((We're gonna be a tad bit late then. The battle is essentially over, everyone's just making a run for it.

Feel free to join the running from the big, big water though.))

[Wildrun]

((...Pardon my n00bishness, but...translation, please? ^^"))

[Grath]

[[Essentially in the other thread some lake or river had been dammed up, and it isn't been anymore. ]]

[Tirael]

[[It is dragging a bit. I'm for starting a new thread.]]

[Wildrun]

((Seconded.))

[Grath]

[[Motion carried! ^^ Who would like to do the honors?]]

[Tirael]

[[-points at either Ashstripe or Grath- Someone who's more familiar with the goings-on at the destination, certainly.]]