Embrace the new Sun! [Continued from CoK, OPEN]

[Sigurd]

(srry, can we use another badger baby)

Sigurd ignored the other fox, looking at another scroll he handed it to Ashstripe after crossing out a name "Are any of these yours?" He asked, though they couldn't see it, his body was swaying from the rum earlier. The fox hummed as he awaited an answer.



(srry it's short, writers block )

[Luna Broadsword]

"Aye, charm's all I got at the end o' the day, my sweet hare maid." Philip said with a smile and a bow. He stood up straight again, and once more turned his attention to the crowd. "Now we have a Luna, me and Graystone. All we need is a besieged fortress lord. Zeffer, mind being the besieged insteaded o' the sieger?" Philip yelled, still hoping to attract more role takers. Luna had opted to continue to ignore everything happening in front except for the foax and Ashstripe. The fox appeared to be slightly drunk at this point, while Ashstripe's mood had once again turmed to a better one as he greeted Darkhawk. She continued to watch though, knowing how quickly a badger's mood could switch when the wrong words were said...

(Ahh, writers block. It's contagious.)

[Ashstripe]

((*Shrugs* As long as I don't have to drag him/her into existence on the site, I'm okay with it. I am not in the mood to make another character XD. I haven't explored Rasthur enough, maybe when I get bored with him.

Or maybe I might just drag this one into existence...))

The Badger was illiterate as the Badger was(Truth be told, the hares had once attempted to educate him in the ways of reading and writing - but the Badger broke enough quills to cover an entire bird, mostly out of frustration more than any kind of uncontrolled strength.), he knew his 'mark' when he saw it. Deep brown eyes widened as they paced back and forth across the parchment, amidst the seemingly random scribbles and lines, he found one word that actually meant anything to him,

A-a...Atti...Atticus...Splinterpaw...

He recognised the name in an instant, his second-born child, first-born son. He hadn't named him, he never named any of his offspring, coming from his rather 'educated' background. But his wife had, 'Bonny', as he had come to know her as, had apparently some form of education - despite a near life-time spent in slavery. Bonny had named all of their children after being convinced, that after being named by him, she wished her children to have names with meaning.

And Atticus had just that, some apparent meaning from a story that he had failed to remember. But it was very deep if his recollections were to be trusted.

Slowly, resting the parchment on the table and reclining in his chair slightly, he suddenly seemed fascinated with the grain of the wood, his eyes inert, his breathing slow. These memories were painful ones, a son that was barely a pup(In his eyes.) whom bickered with his overly maternal sister and wrestled with his hyperactive brothers, all the while defending the youngest ones with a ferocity that was not unlike his father's.

That last memory hurt the most.

The lad had taken up arms with his father, he had yet to even enter adolescence and there he was throwing his life away for his family - Ashstripe rubbed his head ruefully, mentally empathising the pain that his son had likely felt when his fist met his temple - no son of his would die alongside his father, no father should ever outlive his son.

For what had been months, even years worth of memories, the Badger finally opened his mouth to speak, his throat was dry, his lips parched and he felt a lump rise. He had remained silent during his entire mental journey,

"And what do ye know of...Atticus?" He eventually growled in a hoarse tone.




Idiots...

That was the sole thought within Kenzie's mind, she was unimpressed with this...Character's attempt at flattery, or even Breeze's goad. But she would show them a real actress was capable of,

"Oh deary me wot?" She hid her face from view, placing a paw in front of her features all the while fluttering her eye-lashes madly, all of this feigning embarrassment and bashfulness, "Liddle Kenzie may o' 'ad a bit t'drink.." She giggled deliriously, finding the supposed humour in this entire situation all the while apparently getting in touch with her supposedly dead feminine side.

"Now how does this Luna 'gel act eh?" She pretended to think out loud, all the while simultaneously plotting the demise of all those whom had wronged her this fair evening.


((Yeah Ashstripe(The character) is a post hog. I need to get more deep with the other hares XD.))

[Sigurd]

Sigured smiled grimly. He drew in his breath, then spoke. "I was out collecting wood for my hut, it was only just spring, you see. Then i heard it. Some beast was screaming. He, or she, was louder than thunder and hoarser than a horse. It was yelling out 'I'm the child o' the Mighty Ashstripe Splinterpaw, hahahaha'. And all this time a storm had broken out the same time i heard him, it was as though he materilized." The fox ranger remembered those two weeks ago. "The badger was injured, face looked shredded like paper against a sword, arrers out o' his back, even a javelin had been buried into his footpaw. So I took him to me and my master's home. As soon as i got the charts I set out for Salamandastron, didn't it must be 't bother if it was male or not, that is why i said daughter first. But it must be your son, um wot was it, Atticus, same body build. If you want to, we can leave in two weeks. And don't wory he'll be fine, my master is a great healer."

[Ashstripe]

Yes...By all the stars and the sun...Yes.

Those were the words that Ashstripe wanted to just cry out without restraint, those were the words that leapt forth from his conscious but collapsed in his mouth as he bit his tongue in a moment of self-control; there was a war to win and he doubted it would be over in a meagre two weeks.

"Child o' the Mighty Ashstripe Splinterpaw..." The badger 'hmmed', that sounded more reckless than he remembered his son being, he had always remembered the pup as a paragon of virtue, modesty and in other words a complete coward in his mind.

But fear, fatigue and fate all drive creatures to do things they normally wouldn't.

Had it been anyone other than his son, Ashstripe would've smiled at the gender-confusion, laughed even. But that was an affront to him, an offence and another disappointment for his off-spring, he scowled slightly,
"Two weeks? It cannae be done." He stated flatly, he didn't care to elaborate as he waved a dismissive paw, "There be no rush, kin or nay kin, there be no rush." The Badger continued on his tangent, showing a rather blatant disregard for the well-being of his son; the life of his son simply did not stack up to the lives of Mossflower, there was a horde right in his own Mountain, that he had to dispose of, before he could even sleep without his paw resting on a dagger.

That was likely the most response that he would care to give on the subject, he didn't feel the need to justify his reasons, as if they were as obvious as the moon.

[Sigurd]

The fox shrugged, "Fine, but why? Is it the Horde vermin?" The fox already knew it was, he had read enough information about what was happening. Before the badger could answer, he spoke once more "Need aid, stripedog, a scout or archer, or maybe even a spy for the brawl you and the other stripedog are gonna have?" The Ranger smirked at this, a perfect oppurtunity to earn money, he was either going to sell his services to one of the sides, with his trainging he would be better than any scout or spy that either could muster. None of them even knew that he was here. "Or I could work for the warlord stripedog" The Badger Lord would have to hire him, if he wanted to see his son.


(Here comes Sigurd's rebellious side!)

[Ashstripe]

The Badger's brow furrowed even more deeply, his past and present duels with Luna had been a touchy subject, a patch of shame in his life of combat, he didn't like losing or coming close to it, no, he was the Badger Lord and was, therefore, the greatest fighter on this side of Mossflower.

At least that was how his logic worked.

Luna had proven him wrong several times, first the WARR horde and now her. In the few times that he had collapsed during his battles, he had merely attributed to sheer numbers. But this was different. This was essentially one on one. And he lost.

In all rationality, the battles were actually drawn, but in a mind like Ashstripe's, if your opponent lived whilst you willed otherwise, you had failed - and that is exactly what had happened.

"And ye think I am unable to kill Luna? Without aid? Without trickery? Without lies?" he scowled and restrained himself from slamming the table in anger, he was obviously losing sight of what was really being said, "And how could I trust ye? He who would sell his service fer' petty metals!?" This time he failed to restrain himself, he slammed the table with a loud clang of the mugs and plates clashing, bringing the eyes of many of the hares who had managed to hear it over the deafening noise of the festivities.

But could he afford to let Luna have this creature? He may not resort to such measures, but Luna might resort to black-mail...

He sighed a deep sigh, and eventually replied in defeat, "Name yer conditions."

[Sigurd]

(Okay i'll answer this time but we better let the others start posting to get catched up, or at least Luna, and when are we gonna start the the war, I'm dieing for battle with Sigurd.)

Sigurd won. He was hired. Now as soon as he got back home, he could buy meat at the market instead of hunting it. The Ranger cleared his throat, "300 gold should suffice. I am going to meet some o' you're officers if you don't mind." And with that he faded. The Ranger had done a good deed and been hired in one day. He had never felt that with his old life, before a ranger.

Back then was diiferent. He practiced fencing, which he was no good at, with his father and the famed knights of Luminar. He did little to help the common folk and had little power over his life, if thats what you called it. He enjoyed this life more.

Suddenly, he materilized by a hare officer. Tapping it on the shoulder he started talking to it, "Hello mate, 'ow's it going? Name's Sigurd, yours?" The Ranger would start here meeting his comrades. A good day it was.

(Anybody can be that hare)

[Darkhawk Shadowheart]

(I have no excuse for my absence... only testing, but even that shouldn't delay me as long as it did... sorry.)

Darkhawk had wandered away from Ashstripe, merely showing to the Badger Lord, he was alright now, and wasn't anymore a threat or danger for the Badger Lord. The Red-fox, however, did see that his close friend, Freya had moved away from where she had gone and actually was listening into the conversation of the mercenary that was speaking to the Badger Lord. The moment he saw horror on her face the male fox moved back over to the Badger Lord to see what was happening.

"Are ya' mad?!" hissed the voice of the Female Fox. She was speaking in a low voice but even at the quietness of it, it was stern. "Don't give into his demands... Even if he manages ta' do as he says he will... Do ya' think her horde will just disperse?! Nu'... They will want ta' have their steel meet with flesh... Are ya' prepared to send us ta' another war after just barely survivin' this one?! Are ya' willing ta' give up on the prospect of peace...? I thought ya' would attempt ta' find another solution... a solution that we can create a new age by... not follow the ways of the blasted beasts we just defeated...They dictated... by blood... do this... and ya' will be no different...!"

Darkhawk was silent to this as his eyes panned downward at his feet for a moment before looking at Ashstripe. "The road to ruin is paved with good intentions... Think hard on your honor... desire to kill her... is that the best way to achieve peace? Peace by blood?"

Zeffer's eye glanced over for a moment toward the Badger Lord, however, he didn't approach as he heard Philip speak to him of role-playing as a beseiged king.
"Aye why not, long-snout... After this little... play... we shall speak of something--- mutually important."

[Luna Broadsword]

((Sorry for the lateness, I wanted to see if Zeffer would join in on Philip's play.))

Philip grinned as Zeffer came to the makeshift stage. "Conversation over a good cup o' October ale would be nice." He said, and than returned his attention to the other actors. "I'll tell the story, an' you all act out what I'm sayin'. I'll give ya some time ta get in some lines. Alright?" He gave pause to see if they really were ready and would do as he'd instructed.

Luna watched Ashstripe's shifting moods from a distance as he talked with the strange fox. As the fox left she noted his expression was resigned... or was a more acurate description frustrated. She wasn't entirely sure. She stood up, deciding that it was time for a little diplomacy. Philip had said they all needed this celebration, and a upset Badger Lord was sure to mess with that plan.

As she approached she noticed both Freya and Darkhawk talking to him in hushed voices. They didn't look too pleased with the older badger. Luna frowned. Maybe they really are plotting my assasination. Note to self, don't sleep tonight, she thought to herself. None of her thoughts showed as she made her way to Ashstripe.

"Ash, my comrade," she said cheerfully. "Unless yer otherwise preoccupied, perhaps ya could walk with me. Twould be a good opportunity to... chat." Luna grinned, trying to appear at ease. However her eyes betrayed the… distress she was currently feeling. She did not like sharing space with those she might soon call enemy. “Ya could show me the famous forge o’ Salamandastron.” Luna continued, despite of her discomfort.

[Ashstripe]

Before he could even dismiss the ranger or feel any kind of outrage at his demands, the fox was was gone. Vanished. The Badger-lord ground his teeth, he hated assassins. He hated anyone who would stoop so low as to skulk in the shadows. He hated mercenaries even more.

It was pure and simple, this creature may as well have written the list of Ashstripe's dislikes, for he embodied, most, if not all of the characteristics that made the badger's blood boil.

What an odd creature....300 coins.

His teeth ground together so hard that it was a wonder one of them didn't snap, currency was not something frequently employed in these lands. No, beasts tended to look out for another simply because it was right.

Those conditions were not favourable. He was choosing between two evils, two paths to the hell-gates; as if there was a possible alternative.

Thrust out of his thoughts, a harsh whisper ran into his ears, he heard it all well enough, but didn't blink an eye-lid. He kept his face impassive, he was used to criticism, he had long ago forgone the urge to yell at anyone who questioned his decisions - because he was Lord.

Eventually, his eyes closed slowly, humming in his own thoughts, this was a rare display for him, never being one to think things through, and eventually gave his reply;

"While our enemies be drawin' breath. There cannae be peace," The Badger's eyes shot open in an instant, assuming a deep, common look of determination, "The war were never over!" His voice was raised, only slightly so, into keep tone with Freya's whispers.

"Ye tongue profess a flowery speech indeed, lass. Ye be speakin' o' dreams that dibbuns hae." There was a grim smile upon his features now, he wasn't convinced that his path was the right one, but he wasn't convinced that it was the wrong one either.

And then Darkhawk intervened.

Curse those infernal adages! Ashstripe grit his teeth again, this night was supposed to calm him down, not rile him up. His paws instinctively reached for a mug of ale, a drop, even water, anything, but he had a point and Ashstripe agreed - but these two were being unrealistic as far as he was concerned;

"Be there ano'er method I be unawares of?" He reclined in his chair slightly, his paws having been successful in their mission to retrieve a mug of ale, "There be many kinds o' peace. An' the kind I'm sure most of ye want can only be earned in blood."

The Badger smiled lightly, he was open to suggestions, despite his contradictory statements, it was simply his innate stubborness showing through, despite the recent seasons of which he had matured.

It was even harder to maintain when Luna entered the scene.

"Aye. Gladly. It be m'duty as ye host. Spare me but a moment, Darkhawk 'ere be thinkin' that Breeze will make a good Phillip," His smile turned into a smug grin, "Tae which I be disagreein'."

Tact and subterfuge had its place in the badger's mind after all.

________________

Breeze grabbed both Sarge and Kenzie in a tight group huddle and shouted their supposed agreement,
"Course! We're the Long Patrol! Ain't nothin' we can't do, yew name it m'boy! Polishin' boots? Dibbun-play! Wrestlin' sharks? Why I 'ad a few yesterday m'dear sir! Takin' on a 'orde with a paw be'ind me back and armed only with a blunt claw? Tch!" He carried off on this tangent for some time, only to receive a withering look from his comrades, which explained to him in great detail that only a 'yes' would suffice.

((Mm...I might fill in that role for you Sigurd, although I'm too tired to try make an NPC on the spot.))

[Darkhawk Shadowheart]

Zeffer nodded after a moment, pleased that he was going to get at least an audiance with Philip. He needed to talk to him about something that was imperative to the survival of the Woodland, Cresent Moon Horde, and the dwendling influence of the former Sephron Empire.
"Aye, tell your story and I shall act as instructed."

"Perhaps..." replied Darkhawk after a moment as he heard the demands for a second opinion that was viable. The Red-fox seemed to be deep in thought as he thought silently to himself.
"Killing her will not stop her horde... so perhaps you need to have her see that we are not the target she should go after... Given me some time, and I will have you your answer..."

Freya was silent as she had heard her thoughts be thrown down as some sort of dibbun drivel that was unimportant. She knew that there had to be a better way then betraying one's trust and stabbing the foe in the back.

[Ashstripe]

((Hmm...I may as well post to get the ball rolling again.))

Ashstripe smiled. A resigned expression at best, showing the tell-tale signs of his age and the weariness within his eyes as he rose to leave, he was satisfied with Darkhawk's answer. Darkhawk was a thinker, always trying to take the alternative path, a deep contrast to his own, simpler mind with a method to match.

Reaching the peak of his impressive height, he stretched casually, bones and muscles still weary with fatigue and the bruises of battle, but it was a good pain, a pain that symbolised what had been done was done,
"Cut the off the serpent's head and its fangs, and ye shall have little else to fear." He replied in a hushed, muttering whisper,
"Now then, Luna, the forge be's this way." He held out an ushering paw in an unexpected show of chivalrousness, standing fast and allowing her the privilege of walking first; it was as much as a precaution as it was a gesture of courtesy.

In all honesty, he wasn't afraid, nor was he intimidated. Annoyed? Yes. Exasperated? Definitely. Confused? Unlikely, his mind was made up about his adversary a long time ago.

He who stands with me shall be my brother. He who stands otherwise shall be my foe.

He mentally muttered those words of which he had heard so many times in his life to strengthen his resolve, it had to be done. She no longer stood with him and therefore..

No. She had stood with him once. She was worthy of his respect; if only as his foe.

___________

Lance Corporeal Pascal Sunkenflop wasn't having the best of days. Pulled out of the early celebrations and forced to pay for a mistake he had performed during the war - how was he supposed to know Captain Breeze said 'fire ta' th' blinkin' left!' was referring to Breeze's left? Certainly, it wasn't his position to question why he was firing upon what appeared to be a squad of hares, as he was a soldier and soldiers followed orders without question, without thought and without remorse.

Well he had certainly filled out two of the criteria, as now he was drowning the stench of the grounded mix that was used to polish the weapons and Breeze's medal collection - each one would have a story he would say, 'this one here was earned for honour and blood, that one for blood and honour, this one? Ahh for servin' under Lord Brocktree, no not that one. The other one. There isn't any others? I think you've been havin' a nip at the job again m'boy.'

As if polishing equipment wasn't bad enough, the good Captain threw salt into the wound by 'assisting him.'. Course, he and Breeze had varying definitions of 'assist.'

Massaging a paw covered in slashes from misplaced spears with good intentions, he was drinking his sorrows away. A slight wince came with every gulp, but the last tap on his shoulder near made him throw the cup away entirely,

"Hello mate, 'ow's it going? Name's Sigurd, yours?".

"Call me Sunkenflop, or Sunkers if'n's yer feelin' matey, wot?" The hare mumbled unenthusiastically, a rather uncharacteristic trait for his kind. But he had a bit too much to drink and received a fair bit too much to do.

((There ya' go Sigurd =])).

[Sigurd]

(Thanks boss, you are Sigurds boss now remember)

"Wow, that's probably some boring work, matey. You need some help?" Without waiting Sigurd grabbed a medal and rag and started scrubbing. "Well Sunkers, it seems I'm gonna be your comrade soon. I've been hired by Ashstripe as a mercanary. How do you like being a common soilder? Probably not very much, huh?" The Ranger spoke in a different tune than before, when he spoke to the badger. This was a common beast. He would rather talk to him than a mighty King, or a gigantic Badger Lord. He was suddenly thinking of his youth, when he was a noble, not just any noble, but the Chancellor's own son, the next in line. But that was a while ago. But he still remembered his mother Blara, father Moifey, and his three sisters. He missed them dearly, but this was his life now.

While scrubbing the medal, Sigurd had been thinking about all this. The medal was like a small sun. Suddenly, he realized this and dropped it. Picking it up he spoke to his companion, "So how's your life?"

[Luna Broadsword]

It'll be a cold day, was Luna's first thought as Ashstripe indicated she should walk ahead of him. It went against every instinct in her possession to walk ahead of her future opponent. Part of her suspected the same was true for the Badger Lord as well though. A bit of a problem, but not a hard one, Luna told herself. She moved a little, grinning. "Shall we walk side by side then? Twould make... conversin' easier." There, a compromise: Take the advantage of one of them walking behind the other off the table. A decision that took almost no thought. Unlike others.

War or peace? Luna had been struggling over the two choices ever since this alliance had been made. She thought it would be an easy decision at first. However, as time passed, things had become less clear. Such a stupid thing, Luna had chided herself when she first thought of the question. I'm a warlord. The answer to that question is in my title. However, as days passed, she became less sure of her decision, and her own judgment. There had been occasions where her mind had been plagued by doubts. However, at such times, the correct path had been obvious, though not easy. This time was different though.

Luna sighed mentally. The problem was she liked this place. She liked the time-worn walls around her, the idea that hundreds of other warriors had walked these halls, had guarded this mountain with their lives. She was even beginning to feel a passing fondness for the occupants of this place. War still beckoned her though. The urge to fight had gone down since WARR's defeat, but Luna knew it would come back all too soon. It would start as an itch for a change of pace, but would slowly grow into an overwhelming need for blood shed, for the sight of swords clashing and the screams of enemies as her sword cut into them. A dark symphony of destruction, of controlled chaos and of unmatched fury. Luna pushed those thoughts away with a slight shake of her head. Now was not the time to get lost in her thoughts.

“Where do ye come from Ash?” She asked the older badger. Luna looked at him with curiosity. “Were ye born within these walls?”

***

Philip smile widened. “Excellent, excellent, first rate Long Patrol Actors. Alrigh’ then, Zeffer, stan’ behin’ tha’ table over there. Tha’ ‘ill be the fortress. Now, Luna an’ me, stan’ over there, in fron of him. Graystone, wai’ over there an’ I’ll le’ ya know when ta come in.” He gave them a moment to get in position, before clearing his throat and getting into ‘story mode’.

“Once, when we was younger, and Luna newer ta the role of warlord, we lay siege ta’ an ol’ fortress. It wasn’t the longest siege we ever ‘eld, bu’ it was the oddest. Fer ye see, wha’ started ou’ as a siege became a lesson in betrayal.” Philip introduced his story as if it were hard to remember. His nose and eyes crinkled up as if he were fishing for something that was hard to hold onto. However, he never paused trying to think up a line or word. It flowed as freely from him as any story with bad grammar and poor pronunciation could. “It started ou’ regular enough. Luna went to the fortress door, an’ shouted ou’ her demands, which were rejected by whoever it was tha’ was in charge.” He paused to give the actors a chance to perform the small scene. When they were finished he spoke again. “An’ then, we began the siege. Fer three days an’ nights we fough’, an’ fough’ battle after battle. On tha’ third day, somthin’ happened. Graystone arrived.” He paused to let Graystone’s actor come into the action. “He asked fer an audience with Luna an’ me. He talked of an alliance, bu’ somethin’ was off. I warned Luna tha’ she couldn’ trust another warlord. An’ tha’ we should kill him sooner rather then la’er. She was headstrong though, an’ said she’d be careful bu’ tha’ there was no need ta kill Graystone.” At this point he once again paused so the actors could play out the scene as they saw fit.

[Ashstripe]

The badger restrained a snort and shrugged nonchalantly, he had offered her courtesy veiled with the wrong intentions, he didn't think Luna would accept. Her compromise was realistic and took whatever little advantage either of them would have gained, including the ever troublesome moral high-ground; good enough for him.

He nodded slightly, never being one for words when he felt them unnecessary and fell into step with Luna, keeping his eyes front and expression unreadable, he breathed in the cool night air that had made it's way into the Mountain walls. It was moment's like this, where he appreciated the little things, that made him remember why he fought.

But was it a good thing?

Unconsciously, he stole a glance at Luna and a small smug smile formed on his face. He knew that look. She was getting immersed in the history of this ancient fortress, for he himself had shared that same expression, albeit a little less contained.

Perhaps he wasn't the only one who heard the whispers of the Mountain, certainly, if history was to be believed, Salamandastron had always had a strange impact upon the badgers marked by the warrior's curse.

Wait, what? Curse?

Ashstripe smiled mentally, a dry thing at best. His subconscious had gained the better of him, he never completely acknowledged the bloodwraith, the supposed magic of the Mountain or anything like that - of course he could believe that he had predecessors, but the tales were far too grand to be believed. And wha-

“Where do ye come from Ash?” She asked the older badger. Luna looked at him with curiosity. “Were ye born within these walls?”

He dropped his guard. Out of all the possible times and places, he dropped his guard now. The Badger gritted his teeth lightly, a minor error, not a fatal one.

Eyes were still set straight, as if he had not heard her question, pondering something much more important, just as it seemed he was about to reach his epiphany, he replied;

"Nay. I hail not from this land. Not here. Not Mossflower. Just a land to the North, it's name I know not." The response was defensive at worst and stoic at best, Ashstripe did not like sharing his past, not even with his closest comrades; he held no bias one way or the other concerning this matter.

Keeping the pace, he glanced ahead, sighing inwardly and cursing the architect of this place; his beloved forge was a long way off yet.


_______________________________

Breeze and Kenzie took their respective positions, one focusing intently on what Phillip was narrating the other being unusually fascinated by what drinks were on the menu for the celebration. Kenzie immediately performed her role as desired, yelling out the demands that were likely a standard for all Warlords and resumed her position after being refused by the leader of the fortress,

"We'll be back! Wot! If'n's not today' than tomorrow! This ain't the last y'eard of Ke-erm, Luna Broadsword wot!" She cried out in an impromptu accent of the badger warlord, but she was not as masterful as she appeared with her acting skills as her accent and mannerisms still shone through.

Or perhaps it was just the drink.

'Phillip' and 'Luna' took their cues, in that order respectively, with Breeze doing his best imitation of a horde beast's accent, a talent born from many years of mocking his betters,
"I don't likes this 'un Luna, 'tis a traps I tells ya! Mark me words, 'e'll kill ya if'n's we don'ts kils 'im first!" Breeze hissed harshly, his falsetto accent being surprisingly gruff for one of his status, "Mark me words if'n's me name ain't Phillip wotever m'last name is!" The last line was cried out with much conviction and emotion, contrary to the words actually spoken.

"Course y'think it's a trap, y'never support m'blinkin ideas! M'dear Phillip, if there's one thin' we don't be needin', it's that flamin' 'mark me words' attitude of yers! Wot!" Kenzie's accent and mannerisms improved, more so in tune with her 'inner horde-beast', yet a fair distance from the real Luna,

"'Sides, there's no real reason t'kill 'im yet, m'dear Phillip wotever his last name is, I'll be careful, doncha worry 'bout that." The would be Luna projected her voice loudly, yet still managed to contain that air of secrecy about it, after all, their opponent was essentially, right there.

For a counsel that was supposed to be discreet, and between two old comrades, the two hissed and bickered rather loudly.


________________________

Sunkers immediately winced sharply, that was quite a shock, this creature was offering aid for a chore that he considered long done,
"There's no need ol' boy." His reply grew a little more enthusiastic with the charisma inherent in all hares, slowly dispelling his drunken disappointment,
"I already went 'nd polished them a while ago, wit' th' Good Captain's aid o' course." The last part of the sentence was nearly muttered in a dark tone, indeed, if he ever rose to any position of power within this mountain, his first act would be a direct punishment against Breeze.

"'Is Lordship hired a mercenary?" Sunkers frowned deeply, this was an unheard of occurrence. This fox wasn't the first to offer his services to the Mountain Lord, but he was the first to be accepted and without any form of punishment or wounds for 'insolence' as Ashstripe had often called it.

"Wot'd ya say to 'im to get in? Wot?" Indeed, his curiosity was peaked now, any creature who could openly admit they were a soldier of fortune to Ashstripe and live to tell the tale was worthy of some respect.

[Luna Broadsword]

"My mother told me tha' same was true of my father. Tha' he came from the North. I can' say for sure: I never met 'im." Luna said, turning her attention back to the walls, though she was careful to always keep sight of the other badgers movements from the corner of her eye. "No' tha' I'm accusin' ya of aythin'." She added with a slightly amused smile which faded as she continued talking. "I grew up aroun' Redwall, an' spent nearly everyday there. Have you ever been there?" Luna wasn't sure what had started this trip down memory lane. Maybe it was being in such a peaceful place with traditional 'good-beasts.'

Philip watched the actors with a grin as they acted out the scene where Luna shouted out her demands. Not an exact reenactment of the scene, but entertaining none the less. Then they started the scene of the secret conversation between Luna and him. He laughed as quietly as he could as he listened to them bicker. As soon as they were done, he spoke out again, trying to smother any remaining laughter in his voice. "The narrator woul' jus' like ta note tha' he doesn' 'ave a las' name.’is family ain' tha' respecatble." He waved a paw to tell them to continue on with the scene as if he hadn't spoken.

[Sigurd]

(Can we get to the war soon, ive got two more characters at least joining into that, and one o them is itching to fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hahahahaha you can't run, i'm the freaking muffin man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is me at 1 a.m)

Sigurd stared at his companion, what would he tell him, it must be legendary that a mercanary was hired here, he guessed. He thought that a good few would have been hired, but he probably guessed wrong. "Um, let's just say that me and your chief had an agreement over something very precious, okay, here I'll tell you, what's a secret with no one to tell, I might have found the old Stripedogs son, don't tell nobeast" Though Sigurd knew he would. "I'm gonna go get some ale, have time, now don't go spreading that." And Sigurd walked away(Not materilized, walked).

I'll go check on another beast. Sigurd (Now) Materilized. He popped up near a random creature, "Ello mate".

(Anyone but Ashy and Luny can reply to Sigurdy, u 2 rn't thare!)

[Ashstripe]

((Soon mate, soon.

"But that's the part with all the action! What's the point if we don't get any character development?" - This is Ash at 6pm, after a 600km drive with 4 hours sleep.))

A small, stoic and reserved smile spread across Ashstripe's face at Luna's jest. He could identify his kin easily, that much he was certain of. And he had known Luna for all this time and he almost certainly didn't suspect her of being such.

But he had been wrong before and that could...No. His children are in the North. They always have been and always will be. No doubt raising a clan of their own and tending to their mother.

Or all resting in peace as a family.

I grew up aroun' Redwall...

The Badger restrained a sigh of relief. Certainly that was a doubt that no longer crossed his mind, he had travelled south on his own and had not seen his family since the start of the journey. Or before for that matter.

"Redwall...Perhaps...Perhaps not..." He stroked his chin appreciatively, the legends that surrounded that place rivalled Salamandastron and the border between his dreams and memories had blurred long ago.

Ashstripe had never been the best of friends with reality, but in these times, more than ever was the truth elusive to his eyes.

"I hear 'tis a beautiful place...Truly why Salamandastron exists." He kept his step steady as he casually shared his thoughts, perhaps it was the night air, or the manner of which Luna revealed her past, but he no longer felt guarded.

Not that his truths and secrets flowed like water, but they did begin to drip.

Moments passed in the rhythm of their steps and Ashstripe's rigid posture loosened, as if he no longer felt there was any threat in all this. Certainly, he appeared more open and relaxed. But his mind was whirling, not only at the topics they discussed, but the steps he took.

"...'Tis places...Places like that...That we fight for..." He murmured under his breath, in a trance-like manner, as if he was talking to someone else, someone unseen and unheard of; the voices of Salamandastron. Of Lords and Ladies past.

"Tell me, why do ye fight?" And there it was. A sudden snap transition from the edge of reality to a firm and rational hold, he began to probe her - more so out of curiosity than anything else, after all, with an upbringing like Luna's, it was a wonder she fought at all, let alone the causes she fought against.

_______________________________

"Like th' 'ellgates they ain't! The wot-ever-his-last-name family is th' most respected and h'educated 'vermin' family there is!" Breeze cried out in defiance, punctuating his statements with repeated thumps to his skinny chest with a free paw.

And completely breaking character in the process. At least, more so.

Kenzie nudged him in the ribs sharply, ever determined to carry out any task she was set to the best of her ability - regardless of how ridiculous they were.

"If yer finishin' up yellin' at th' wall, as I was sayin'," Kenzie began," Y'attitude ain-"
"Ain't th' grandest piece o' advice on this side o' Mossflower? I'd say so." Breeze interrupted sharply, his voice raised even more so and his tone beyond haughty,

Smack.

A loud clap reached the ears of everyone present in the room as Breeze felt something small and remarkably fast hit the back of his skull, had he not known better he'd of sworn someone had thrown a rock at him - which didn't completely explain the sudden and broad grin that Kenzie was wearing.

"Ahem, we hereby accept yer alliance." Kenzie continued, regaining her composure and re-straightening her features.

[Darkhawk Shadowheart]

Darkhawk was drinking some mint tea, still thinking on an alternative way to a fight. As he watched the party, his expression returned to its normal, stoic action expression. Freya sat next to him and stared at him for a moment before looking at the brand marks on his head.
"Still don't have an answer?"
"I've been thinking... the Empire... The Sephron Empire isn't gone from our world... The world needs to be freed..."
"Zeffer was talkin' about heading west, liberatin' the lands from imperial rule and havin' the Merrito take control."
"Zeffer... Supreme Chancellor Zeffer... As I said before, road to ruin is paved with good intentions..."
"The Merrito is a dyin' order... True, they are war-like... but they are also ancient. An Ancient race... ya'd think after all the fightin', all the wars... maybe they will no longer wish for it."
"We can only hope..."
"Darkhawk... you've known Zeffer for along time... I-"
"Please... don't remind me."
"Forgetting your past again... you did it once..." Darkhawk glanced to Freya, his mood sufficiently more melancholy. "...You left... and hid in the woods... What did you forget?"
"Who I was... why I was there... I didn't want to hurt anymore people. I was tired of being used as a killer... But now thinking about it... I guess I will have to return to that..."
"This is a party, such things can wait till tomorrow."
"Freya... you've been there for me... I thank you... But you know what I am saying..."
"You are going to go fight again... aren't you."
"I have to... I have to redeem what my blood has done..."
"Don't, please... Or at least let me come with you."
"I'm sorry... But I--" Darkhawk paused as he realized something rather quickly, glancing to Ashstripe's empty seat. Instantly, he seemed to come up with the option that he had searched for. If Luna could be convinced to go after the Sephron Empire, or what was left of it, then that would at least buy several seasons of peace in Mossflower from the Crescent Moon Horde.
"...There is nothin' I can say ta change yar mind... is there, Darkhawk..." Freya's eyes looked rather sad as she looked down for a moment.
"I have to... I don't want to... but I have to."
Freya stood up after a moment before tilting her head down as she walked away for a moment as Darkhawk rose his voice from a whisper to a causal talking tone. "You said... you needed to talk to me after the battle... what is it?"
"...Nothin'... It was nothin'." Freya looked away before walking out of the feast, leaving Darkhawk to look slightly defeated as he kept his gaze down. He knew she wanted to talk to him about something, but she wasn't going to say it now.

***
Zeffer was acting his lines as the Lord of a a besieged fortress. With a strong and determined voice, he replied to the demands of the Actor Luna. With his eyes fixed on the Actor he spoke.
"These walls never fell before to the demands of any beast... be a band of bandits or blasted armies... ye' shall never step one foot before our magnificent halls!"
***

Freya walked down the stairs with her escort, Ike. He was quite a bit taller then Freya and older by his appearance as he glanced down to the Chieftess. He was silent for a moment before saying something.
"Did you tell him?"
"No."
"He deserves ta' know, Chieftess..."
"If I told him, he wouldn't do what I know he needs ta' do... He needs ta' free himself of his demons before I can tell him..."
"Chieftess..."
"I am not going ta' be your Chieftess... Return home after all of this... rebuild our Northern Homeland... I request that of ya', Chieftain."
"I shall do as you request, Freeborn. If he goes... who will take care of them?"
"I am capable of taking care of them... Go..."
"Very well, Freeborn... I shall take my leave."
"Thank ya' for fightin' along side me..."
"Your family has always been respected amongst the free lands of the north... You helped fight against the Sephron onslaught... For that we thank ya'." Ike turned away and walked as Freya went off to find the Badger Lord.