The Thief ((OPEN))

[Promatera]

A slender figure bounded through Mossflower woods as a summer storm struck, shrouding the wood in darkness. Loathe to travel in the rain, the figure looked around for any sort of shelter. Lightning flashed in the sky revealing the face of a red-nosed weasel. In the distance the weasel noticed a large barn, there was no light coming from within so he assumed it had been abandoned. Pouncing on the opportunity the weasel dashed toward the barn pushed open the doors.

With a large creek the doors opened to reveal a dark, but dry interior. Cautiously the weasel stepped within, he was sure the barn was empty, but did not want to take any chances. It had just begun to rain outside, but the weasel did not want to close the doors where at least some light was let in so he propped it open with a nearby plank. Carefully the weasel proceeded deeper into the barn. Keeping his eyes constantly moving the weasel scanned the area looking for any sign of movement. The only noises heard were the occasional creaking of wood as it expanded from the rainwater and the thunder as the storm raged overhead. Nothing was stirring.

Relaxed now he leapt into a nearby haystack. He, Bon Vaygan, had had a wonderful adventure. Pushing his haversack towards him he opened it and marveled over the food within. Every piece of it was stolen from any beast he had met along his travels. It had been sometime since he had stolen, he had actually lived legitimately for a while, but after one of his depression fits he had been too apathetic to water his crop, which died off as a result. With only enough rations to last him several days, he knew that it was once again time to return to his old ways.

He grabbed a pasty he had stolen from a family of hogs' home and popped it in his mouth, although it was stale he savored every bit of flavor before swallowing. With all the food he had, if he rationed it carefully, it could last him around two weeks, which would be plenty to return home for a time. With little more than a days journey to his burrow Bon Vaygan decided to just wait out the storm. After grabbing another pasty he stowed the bag within the haystack and decided to take a short nap. He figured any beast who entered would not disturb him anyway.

[Django]

"Yew 'ad ta lookit th' pretty stone, dinn't ye?" Nik Lagdo stood on the riverbank, shaking his head sadly at the two dead Guosim shrews that lay on the ground before him. A pile of vermin lay nearby, but they wouldn't be getting the burial the two shrews deserved.

As a Guosim warrior himself, Nik felt a pang of guilt at being the only one left alive after the skirmish. But the two shrews who'd died were rookies, and they'd made some stupid mistakes. It was really their own fault they were dead, even though their families were going to be devastated.

It took Nik an hour to bury both shrews. After he finished, he removed his green headband, wiping sweat from his fur. It was then the rain began to pour. He looked up at the dark clouds and sighed, giving a last kick to the pile of dead vermin as he trudged into the woods. He fixed the bandages on his paws idly as he walked, remembering the old barn nearby. He was at least glad the fruitless patrol had led him to some shelter.

Arriving at the barn, he stopped. The big front doors were propped open. That was odd. Some beast must be in there, already. Whoever it was, Nik just hoped they would be willing to share food. His pack of rations had been shredded and thrown in the river by the vermin gang.

"'Lo?" he called, entering the old building. "Somebeast 'ere?" Then he saw the weasel napping in the haystack. Nik grunted in displeasure. Of all the creatures to be sharing a barn with. The shrew was not in the mood for more vermin, but this one was not an immediate threat, so Nik simply moved to the other side of the barn and sat down, glaring at the weasel icily.

[Promatera]

As he slept, Bon Vaygan dreamt of the time he had robbed a Guosim Shrew. It was a beautiful night, the stars were shining brightly and the full moon gave off a soft glow that lit the forest in a pale light. The whole forest was nearly silent as it marveled in the summer night. The only noise heard was that of footsteps dashing through the forest. Cloaked by the darkness Bon Vaygan darted to the River Moss, absolutely ecstatic. As he arrived at the river for a drink he heard what sounded like light snores. He turned and not far from him was a group of sleeping shrews.

By the looks of it the shrews were supposed to keep an eye on the log boats, but young as they were, they had all fallen asleep. To Bon Vaygan, it was as if they had purposely wanted him to steal from them. Carefully and quietly Bon Vaygan crawled silently over to the shrews. It was easier than he thought. The first shrew he found was in a deep slumber. Too easy.

Normally Bon Vaygan only stole food, but on this shrew's person was an absolutely beautiful rapier. He did lack a weapon and it could come in handy. He easily unbuckled the rapier and slipped it out of its belt. Satisfied he decided it best not to push his luck, he had already plenty of food stored away. Bon Vaygan turned to dash away when suddenly a sharp object flew through his chest. It was an arrow shaft.

How could this happen? This was not what was supposed to happen. Turning he saw a shrew standing before him, bow pointed at his face. he fired and Bon Vaygan awoke with a start.

"'Lo?" he called, entering the old building.

He had calmed down, it was all just a dream, but was it? Before him was a shrew. It couldn't be the same one? No. Bon Vaygan unbuckled his rapier and quickly hid it in the hay. No matter what, the shrew could not see the sword. He laid back down and closed his eyes, trying to relax.

"Somebeast 'ere?"

He grunted as if just waking from sleep. He waited until he heard the footsteps of the shrew move away from him before opening his eyes.

"Good evening," he said groggily as if just waking up, "Absolutely dreadful storm is it not?"

Bon Vaygan had to employ all his tact here, a sleeping shrew is completely different from one wide awake. Standing himself up he dusted off the hay on his doublet and stretched out his body. Remembering his manners he began again.

"Oh excuse me, I am..." faking a yawn he began to think of an alias. "Kirk."

Terrible name aside he hoped his friendly reception would warm up the shrew who seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder.

"What is your name?" he asked hoping this shrew would not try and kill him outright because he was a vermin.

[Django]

"Good evening," he said groggily as if just waking up, "Absolutely dreadful storm is it not?"

Nik scowled, but he nodded once. "Aye," he replied curtly. "'Tis a right ol' 'urricane." He really was not in the mood to confront another vermin, especially after witnessing the death of two of his comrades at the paws of vermin.

"Oh excuse me, I am..." faking a yawn he began to think of an alias. "Kirk."

Didn't ask fer yore name, Rudolph, Nik thought venomously, but he kept his thoughts to himself, smirking as he noticed the weasel's ridiculous red nose. "Are ye now?" he replied. He had no way of knowing if the name was real or not, but it really didn't matter. Nik would probably knock the vermin unconscious before the storm ended. Then neither of them would need to worry about names.

"What is your name?" he asked hoping this shrew would not try and kill him outright because he was a vermin.

"Lagdo," the shrew said, cracking his knuckles out of habit. "Nik Lagdo." Might as well keep out of the weasel's game. Nik needed no alias to protect himself. That's what his fists and rapier were for. Removing his bright green headband, the shrew proceeded to wring it out.

"Less git one thing straight, weasel," the shrew went on, getting right to the point. "I ain't inna great mood. I jus' saw me mates get kilt by a gang a' vermin by the river down yonder. So, if ye know what's good for ye, don't gimme a reason t' knock ye one on that big red nose a' yorn."

[Promatera]

"Lagdo," the shrew said, cracking his knuckles out of habit. "Nik Lagdo."

Easy enough to remember. Bon Vaygan flinched slightly as he heard Nik's knuckles popping. Simply disgusting. However, Bon Vaygan believed their exchange was off to a positive start. The shrew was not trying to kill him and he had Nik's name. Hopefully it would stay that way. As the shrew wrung out his headband, 'Kirk' was about to ask him what brought him to the barn when Nik began.

"Less git one thing straight, weasel," the shrew went on, getting right to the point. "I ain't inna great mood. I jus' saw me mates get kilt by a gang a' vermin by the river down yonder. So, if ye know what's good for ye, don't gimme a reason t' knock ye one on that big red nose a' yorn."

Nik's words struck Bon Vaygan like a brick to his face. The shrew had just said what Bon Vaygan considered an 'irreconcilable insult'. The shrew had the gall to point out his nose. His nose which had caused him nearly as much trouble as being a weasel. Although Bon Vaygan realized it would be best to let the insult fly over him, proud beast as he was he would not stand for such impunity even if it would be to his detriment.

"My condolences, Nik Lagdo," he replied with a venomous undertone, which almost seemed insincere. "Though I will accept your terms, you must accept mine," he added moving towards the shrew, proudly standing at full height. "I understand you have probably never seen a beast before with a red nose and as such the sight of one must be 'hilarious'. In fact even now you may be thinking 'Oh his nose is so red it could light the whole barn ablaze!' However, my crimson-tipped conch does not deserve to ever be mentioned from any foul-smelling mouth such as yours. I warn you here Sir Lagdo, should you ever speak of my nose again, then I shall show you how red your own blood is on my sword."

Turning away with a dramatic flourish of his cape, the weasel returned to his haystack. He had hoped his bluff worked, but shrews were not easy to intimidate. Hunger had returned to him now that his wrath had been satisfied. Reaching into his food sack he realized now that because he was taking something to eat he would need to share. His father had deeply ingrained that in him. Grudgingly he turned back to the shrew.

"Now that terms have been laid, would you," he paused as he swallowed his anger, "would you like some of my vittles?"

The rain seemed to grow louder as he waited in silence for an answer.

[Django]

"My condolences, Nik Lagdo," he replied with a venomous undertone, which almost seemed insincere. "Though I will accept your terms, you must accept mine," he added moving towards the shrew, proudly standing at full height. "I understand you have probably never seen a beast before with a red nose and as such the sight of one must be 'hilarious'. In fact even now you may be thinking 'Oh his nose is so red it could light the whole barn ablaze!' However, my crimson-tipped conch does not deserve to ever be mentioned from any foul-smelling mouth such as yours. I warn you here Sir Lagdo, should you ever speak of my nose again, then I shall show you how red your own blood is on my sword."

Nik stared at the weasel for a moment, and then he burst into hearty laughter. He threw his head back and slapped his knee. It took a full two minutes for his laughter to die down. How cute. The weasel was trying to scare him. If Kirk hadn't walked away so suddenly, Nik would have given him a black eye.

"I'll give it t' ye, weasel," the shrew chuckled. "Ye know some fancy speechin', that ye do." He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, watching as Kirk settled back into his haystack huffily. When the weasel brought out his pack of provisions, Nik's stomach reminded him that he had no food of his own.

"Now that terms have been laid, would you," he paused as he swallowed his anger, "would you like some of my vittles?"

Nik shook his head. Although it surprised him that this touchy weasel had actually offered food, the Guosim shrew was not one to accept things from vermin, especially food. "Nay," he replied simply. Yes, he was denying the food because Kirk was vermin. If the weasel's pride kept him from letting Nik's comment slide, then Nik's pride would keep him from accepting offers made by vermin.

((Geez, Nik is rude today! I'm sorry.))

[Promatera]

"I'll give it t' ye, weasel," the shrew chuckled. "Ye know some fancy speechin', that ye do."

Laughter was not the response he was looking for, but he happily took the compliment. Having set boundaries mirth seemed to be a sign that they had been accepted at least to Bon Vaygan. Though what really bugged Bon Vaygan was that he may need to share his spoils, he had worked hard to gather all the food.

"would you like some of my vittles?"

"Nay,"he replied simply.

This cheered up Bon Vaygan. More for him. Content he grabbed another stale pasty and laid his head down in the hay.

"Suit yourself,"he replied eating the pasty. The rain was still hammering down on the roof of the barn and lightning flashed just outside the barn.

Aside from the storm, there was a silence within the barn that was deafening to Bon Vaygan. As 'Kirk' he had decided to break the silence.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"'Kirk' asked Nik as he looked up from his haystack.

((OOC: Not to worry sometimes the characters just are who they are))

[Django]

As silence settled between the two of them, Nik took out a pouch from his vest, dumping the contents onto the floor. Smooth river stones clattered to the old wooden floorboards, and Nik proceeded to count them. He didnt even look up when the weasel addressed him again.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"'Kirk' asked Nik as he looked up from his haystack.

"Seems ye arready did," the shrew remarked, replacing the sling stones in their pouch. "But if ye'd like t' ask me another question, go 'head."

((Bleh. Short.))

[Promatera]

"Seems ye arready did," the shrew remarked"But if ye'd like t' ask me another question, go 'head."

Bon Vaygan rolled his eyes. Excellent. A witty philistine. It was obvious the shrew was definitely not in the mood for conversation, and who could blame him, but he decided to persist anyway. After all it was better than sleeping. He had to devote two whole weeks to that already for his bouts of depression.

"Have you always wanted to be a Guosim warrior?" he asked curious to hear what answer he would receive.

[Django]

"Have you always wanted to be a Guosim warrior?" he asked curious to hear what answer he would receive.

Nik paused in picking up his sling stones. What kind of question was that? "Aye," he replied after a moment, gathering the rest of the stones. "E'er since I were a liddle'un." The answer was really a no-brainer to him. The tribe was Nik's entire life. Literally. "T'ain't no easy road, mind ye," he added. "But, I'd take nothin' else o'er th' Guosim."

"What 'bout yew, eh?" he asked, half-joking. "Allas wanted t' be a rogue?" He really didn't know what this Kirk did for a living, but not many creatures besides wanders got caught in a rainstorm in the middle of Mossflower. At least, not that Nik had seen.

((Blargh!! More shortness!))

[Promatera]

"Aye," he replied after a moment, gathering the rest of the stones. "E'er since I were a liddle'un." "T'ain't no easy road, mind ye,"he added. "But, I'd take nothin' else o'er th' Guosim."

Bon Vaygan nodded before placing his head back onto hay. He was certainly not like Nik Lagdo. In his younger days as a kit he changed what he wanted to be almost every week. First it was Bon Vaygan Acrobat Extraordinaire. Then Bon Vaygan Long Patrol Hare (his father's tales of the Long Patrol were influential). Then after moving on from his last career goal for obvious reasons, Bon Vaygan Ruler of Mossflower. He had wanted to be so many things, perhaps that was why he became an actor? To be able to play all those parts.

"What 'bout yew, eh?" he asked, half-joking. "Allas wanted t' be a rogue?"

"Well believe it or not, I had always wanted to be," he paused for effect, "a Thespian!"

[Django]

"Well believe it or not, I had always wanted to be," he paused for effect, "a Thespian!"

Nik raised an eyebrow at the weasel, resisting the urge to laugh again. An actor? Not an answer the Guosim shrew had expected from a vermin. Then again, Kirk had been saying and doing things with an unnecessary flourish . . .

"Fergimme if I don't believe ye," Nik replied sarcastically, chuckling. "But don't ye thespins travel t'gether t' perform an' such?" The few actors Nik had seen in his lifetime had travelled in caravans, at least five or so to one group. This Kirk fellow was on his own. Perhaps he was looking for a group to join. Nik had no idea about the dynamics of being a so-called thespian.

[Promatera]

"Fergimme if I don't believe ye," Nik replied sarcastically, chuckling. "But don't ye thespins travel t'gether t' perform an' such?"

Nik actually knew what a thespian was? Excellent! Less explaining to do. However, Bon Vaygan had to agree. Normally thespians did travel in a group. He had tried that; it never worked.

"You are quite right, Nik," 'Kirk' responded. "Actors do perform together in troupes, unfortunately as I am a weasel, no beast wants to perform with me."

He began to remember all the times he had tried joining traveling troupes after leaving his father's. He was usually chased away and called a "scoundrel". Bon Vaygan never understood this. Just because most weasels were uncultured idiots did not mean he was.

"Go ahead; laugh," he added anticipating the shrew's callousness. "However, I will have you know that an actor need only a stage!" raising and gesturing a paw to himself he continued, "I need no accompaniment!"

[Django]

"You are quite right, Nik," 'Kirk' responded. "Actors do perform together in troupes, unfortunately as I am a weasel, no beast wants to perform with me."

Nik smirked. Honestly, he would not be surprised if this Kirk never found a "troupe" to perform with. The weasel seemed to do just fine on his own. "Can't 'magine why they'd not let a weasel like yew into th' group," he remarked.

"Go ahead; laugh," he added anticipating the shrew's callousness. "However, I will have you know that an actor need only a stage!" raising and gesturing a paw to himself he continued, "I need no accompaniment!"

"On'y a stage, eh?" Nik chuckled. "Don't look like yew'd e'en need a stage." Leaning back against the barn wall, the shrew laughed quietly. Sometimes the smart vermin could be pretty entertaining.

[Promatera]

"Can't 'magine why they'd not let a weasel like yew into th' group," he remarked.

"Prejudice," he replied, "Though it may not be undeserved."

Bon Vaygan recalled the time he tried to form a troupe of vermin. He had rounded up a few rats and ferrets and tried to explain to them what they were doing, but as soon as he tried to teach them they grew bored and wandered off. He gave up on all vermin after that. Even he had thought of robbing the shrew until he saw Nik's appearance. Why were all vermin so despicable?

"On'y a stage, eh?" Nik chuckled. "Don't look like yew'd e'en need a stage."

Was Nik acting more tolerant of Bon Vaygan? This was somewhat surprising. Though he appreciated the compliment. Nothing like swelling his fragile yet swollen ego.

"Aye 'tis true," he replied. Leaping on top of the hay stack with a projecting voice he added, "After all the world is a stage!"

Bon Vaygan was enjoying himself. The last time he had projected his voice he was promptly chased away.

[Django]

"Aye 'tis true," he replied. Leaping on top of the hay stack with a projecting voice he added, "After all the world is a stage!"

Nik laughed again, without reserve. This weasel, even if he didn't mean to be, was hysterical. And from what Nik could tell, Kirk was dead serious! Which only made it more funny. It was nice to have something to take the shrew's mind off the failed patrol.

"On'y t' ye thespins," Nik chortled. "To every beast else, th' world be a place t' watch ye perform." He laced his fingers behind his head, interested to see where this was going. He only tolerated the weasel because Kirk had proven that he wasn't a dithering idiot, nor was he annoying enough for Nik to pummel . . . yet. Besides, the rain still showed no signs of letting up, and Nik did not want to be sitting in the barn with an unconscious weasel, bored out of his mind.

"Go on, weasel," he prompted with a wave of his paw. "Perform somthin' for us."

[Promatera]

"Go on, weasel," he prompted with a wave of his paw. "Perform somthin' for us."

Exhilarated, Bon Vaygan was more than happy to oblige. Normally Bon Vaygan would not perform for free, but he was in a charitable mood. Besides he had not performed to an audience in some time.

"I suppose I could treat you to a performance," he replied in a mock reluctant tone. "Give me a moment whilst I recall the lines..."

After a moment had passed he moved to his food bag and pulled out from the hay stack.

"I will be performing a dramatic reinterpretation of the clash between Matthias the Warrior and Cluny the Scourge, when I cover my face with my cape I am Cluny, when I stand up right I am Matthias!" he projected leaping to the center of the barn.

Flipping his cape over his face he held the food bag against him like a hostage. He quickly pulled a carrot from within the bag and pointed it at the sack, as if he was threatening to kill it.

"Stand back mouse, afore I cut this friar with me spike!"

Swinging his cape off he turned facing the opposite direction pointing the carrot where he had just stood, "Hold, villain! You will pay for your crimes today!" Thrusting the carrot Bon Vaygan swung the cloak on again and flung the sack of food towards the hay stack, staggering backwards as he dropped the carrot.

"I...Cluny the Scourge...shall not be defeated!"he whipped out a piece of bread he had slid from the bag secretly and slashed. Switching sides again he staggered back in pain. Looking around desperately he grabbed hold of a column and shimmied up it.

Once he reached a rafter he called out in a gravelly voice, "Come down 'ere, Mouse! Let's finish this!"

"So be it!" he called back dropping the loaf of bread he had been carrying to the floor.

"NOOOO!" he cried out in a gravelly voice.

"Scene!" Bon Vaygan projected clearly leaping down to the floor. Standing once more before the shrew he took a dramatic bow, even removing his cap, revealing his torn ear. "That was a dramatic interpretation of the climax of the Laterose Summer War, was it enjoyable?"

[Django]

"Scene!" Bon Vaygan projected clearly leaping down to the floor. Standing once more before the shrew he took a dramatic bow, even removing his cap, revealing his torn ear. "That was a dramatic interpretation of the climax of the Laterose Summer War, was it enjoyable?"

Nik was laughing so hard his sides hurt. The battle fought centuries ago between Cluny and Matthias was not what he was laughing at. Not in the least. In fact, it was one of his favorite Redwall stories. He thoroughly enjoyed hearing the elders tell and retell it during late night vigils.

What Nik was laughing at was Kirk's interpretation of the battle. The weasel had performed every line with the exaggeratedness of a true actor, adding, even if he hadn't meant to, an element of humor to the age-old story so potent Nik couldn't help but laugh. (And the fact that Nik could see the torn ear next to the ridiculous red nose possibly added more hilarity to the situation.)

"Was it enjoyable?" the shrew repeated, his laughter slowing enough for him to speak. "I ain't seen anythin' that entertainin' in years!" He wiped his eyes, catching his breath, a wide grin still on his face. "Oh, ye make me laugh, weasel."

[Promatera]

"Was it enjoyable?" the shrew repeated, his laughter slowing enough for him to speak. "I ain't seen anythin' that entertainin' in years!" He wiped his eyes, catching his breath, a wide grin still on his face. "Oh, ye make me laugh, weasel."

The shrew seemed beside himself with joy. Proudly, Bon Vaygan returned to his haystack like that of a triumphant beast after defeating his enemy in battle. He had conquered Nik's sour mood and improved upon it.

"Glad to hear it," he responded taking a bite from his carrot. "Anything for the fans," he laughed.

[Django]

"Glad to hear it," he responded taking a bite from his carrot. "Anything for the fans," he laughed.

Nik wiped his eyes again, his chuckles dying away. At the sight of Kirk eating a carrot, the shrew's stomach once again reminded him that he hadn't eaten since before the patrol. Ignoring the hunger, Nik sat back, listening to the sound of the rain pounding on the roof. When would this blasted storm end?

Well, there was no use sitting in silence, even if the weasel was a bit of an overbearing comic. So . . . "Oi, Kirk," he began. "Where yew from?" It was a genuine question, since Nik wanted to know where red-nosed thespian weasels called home. He remembered Kirk saying something about traveling a lot. But every beast had a home, right?

((Gah . . . so . . . short!!!))