Re-recruiting (Jan, open)

[Sigurd]

"Och', meh' laddies. The wee' Guosim shrews shauld be aroond here som'where!" the Field Marshall whispered to the small patrol. After the winter, the Mossguard's ranks fell through. they were left with fifty odd troops, mainly squirrels and hares, and an odd hedgehog or mole. O'Barukal decided it was time to regroup.

In the departure of the former Field Marshall, Faffub had took over, and tidied up the main base. Made it slightly more livable and organized. Now, he needed to regroup the troops. The Guosim left some point during the winter, and Faffub decided the angry, little shrews would be valuable members of the Mossguard once more, with their water expertise and what-not.

--

The twenty hares and squirrels selected to find the shrews were covered from head to toe in ghille suits, thick barkcloth, covered in limbs, vines, mud, dyes, and just about everything else. They moved slowly through the marshes on the outskirts of the water-meadows, staying in the area where the snow melted. Each had a javelin and bow on them, also covered in dyes. Faffub had even brought his sword, though it was sheathed in a barkcloth sheath, so not to be detected.

"Oogi, give our friend ah' wee' call, ye ken?" the Field Marshall whispered to a squirrel next to him.

Cuffing his paws around his mouth, Oogi gave a loud, but short shout. "Logalogalogalog!"

[Django]

"Oy, Nik, wot's eatin' ya?" Deputy Ban waded up to the Logalog through the lush water meadows, bracing one arm on the stout tree trunk the shrew leader was perched on. Logalog Nik Lagdo swatted Ban upside the head. The deputy flinched, "Ow! Wot was 'at fore?"

"How many times I gotta tell ya?" Nik sighed. "Logalog. I am th' Logalog. Jus' like I call yew Deputy Ban. An' nothin's eatin' me." Ban stopped rubbing his head and scoffed.

"Sure t'ain't," the deputy said, recalling a recent event and his chieftain's sudden change in temper. "I'm undoubtedly certain yew ain't all hung up o'er that new shrewmaid wot turned up th' other week, eh? Naw, couldn't be that 't all. An' arter all, she ain't as pritty as all that, is she? Naw. O' course nothin' t' git worked up o'er, eh, chief?"

"Shuddup," Nik snapped, shoving the younger shrew to one side. Ban lost his balance and toppled into the water. He resurfaced, spluttering and laughing.

"Ho ho!" he guffawed. "Ye are, then?" He stood back up, out of Nik's reach. "Ah, spring, that time whin a young shrew's fancy turns t' love!" Nik sneered, trying to hide his smile.

"I said shuddup, ya idjit!" the shrew leader yelled. "I ain't hung up on no maid! I'm--"

"Logalogalogalog!"

Both shrews tensed, ready to fight at a moment's notice. Nik looked to Ban, who tilted his head in the direction the call had come from. The Logalog drew his blade and slid off his perch.

"Anybeast we know?" Ban murmured.

"Didn't sound like nobeast from th' squadron," Nik replied under his breath.

"Friendlies?" the deputy asked.

"Only one way t' tell, eh?" Nik cupped his own paw around the side of his mouth and answered, "Logalogalogalog! Who calls t' th' Guosim?"

[Sigurd]

"Ye' ken what ta' do, meh' laddie!" Faffub whispered to Oogi.

Oogi, a buff-chested young squirrel was the deepest voice Mossguard in the platoon. So, of course, it would be his job to do the talking. "Mossguard, sah! Will you meet us with arms or words?"

--

"Och', Gebbo, keep an eye on that there wee' laddie!" the Field Marshall called to a second squirrel while Oogi was shouting. Gebbo shot back into the marsh, until he found a tree. Quickly, the squirrel climbed up, not making a movement that the shrews could track as he watched them.

He gave a sharp whistle, that of a mockingbird to indicate the chieftain had been seen.

[Django]

"Mossguard, sah! Will you meet us with arms or words?"

"Mossguard, eh?" Nik recognized the name. Last summer, hadn't it been? Right, when Ban almost got killed. The chieftain slid his blade back into its sheath. "I'll meet ye wid words, then." He turned to his deputy. "Go alert th' elders. I'll jus' bet they wanna hear 'bout this. Send Night an' Day back 'ere wid me."

Ban nodded and set off back to camp. Nik searched the banks of the water meadows for any sign of the Mossguard troops. He knew it was no use, though. The beasts all had those special suits that hide them so well.

"Wot brings th' good ole Mossguard t'me tribe, eh?" Nik called out, leaning casually against the tree stump. Not long after his shout, two shrewmaids came racing up. One had pale, creamy fur, and the other was black as midnight. Nik nodded to them curtly. "Day, Night. Yew two heard o' the Mossguard."

The females nodded. Night answered, "Aye, chief. We wasn't wid yew an' 'em wot went on that mission, but we know 'oo they are. Ban tol' us they want words wid ye?" Nik nodded again.

"Aye," he said. He turned his attention back to the unseen beasts no doubt watching him and his two fighters. "So, Mossguard, am I allowed t' see any o' ye?"

[Sigurd]

"Of course ye' can see us, laddie! Och, don't ye' ken, we're right in front of yeh!" Faffub whispered to his troops, who chuckled at the hare's words.

"Ah'll go an' meet yon' shrew laird!" the Field Marshall said, straightening up. "Cover meh', lads!"

--

Five minutes later, south of the patrols position, the lone hare strode through the shallows at towards the three shrews. "So, ah' take et' to account, ye' the shrew laird?" O'Barukal asked Nik, indicating him with his javelin.

[Django]

"So, ah' take et' to account, ye' the shrew laird?" O'Barukal asked Nik, indicating him with his javelin.

"Aye, I'm th' Logalog," Nik answered. "Logalog Nik." He offered a paw to shake, adding, "Wot do I call yew then, sirrah?" Hmm, hare, camouflaged, hard to tell what his build was under that suit that made him look like a walking bush.

"Wot's 'e wearin'?" Night whispered to her sister. Day gave a sour look and shrugged as if she didn't want to know. Nik heard Night's whisper and smiled.

"I bet ye could ask him, eh?" the Logalog said. Night chuckled sheepishly, her ears flattening.

"Sorry, sir," she mumbled. "Was jus' curious."

[Sigurd]

"O'Barukal will do, meh' laddie! Full title, bit long. Meh' father, he was a laird, too, ye ken. Owned a big castle, until he passed away. Anyway, he decided ta' give meh' the family name, ye ken, and et's quite a mouthful!" he said, shaking the shrew's paw.

"Et's called ah ghille suit, meh' lady!" he said, bowing like any true Baron. "Our old Laird had many of 'em at our base. But, he's gone off somewhere, and Ah've taken over as Field Marshall. Recruiting's the game, ye ken. Mossguard went down en numbers, so we've been trying to get more. Och, a wee' hard job. But, anyway, we figured that extending an offer to the Guosim would be a wee' grand idea, ye ken!"

[Django]

"O'Barukal will do, meh' laddie! . . ."

"Pleasure's mine," Nik said once the hare had finished.

"Et's called ah ghille suit, meh' lady!" he said, bowing like any true Baron.

Night raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed. "That's how ye folk git 'round th' woods?" she asked. "Looks awful heavy, though."

". . . Recruiting's the game, ye ken. Mossguard went down en numbers, so we've been trying to get more. Och, a wee' hard job. But, anyway, we figured that extending an offer to the Guosim would be a wee' grand idea, ye ken!"

"Oh, I see," said Nik, his expression turning serious. "Recruitin', eh? I'd need t' take that up wid th' elders first, see. I'd not mind sendin' a squad of ten 'r so wid ya right now, if'n it's a patrol yore after. But I'm guessin' yore wantin' larger numbers."

[Sigurd]

"Och, we can wait, meh' laddie! Meh' ole sarge back in meh' Long Patrol days always tauld meh', et's better to be sure, then tae' rush, meh' lad!" he said, bowing to Night at her astonishment to his suit.

"Ef'n the Guosim join oop, we can always make more of 'em, ye ken. Maybe not the same size for yon' shrews, but we cauld measure the correct proportions, and the wot-not, ye ken. "Et's ah' boo't heavy, but the mud cools yeh' roight off!"

[Django]

"Need'a be sure, indeed!" A logboat containing seven elder shrews was being poled over the shallow waters by Ban, who grinned proudly at his chieftain. One of the elders, a thin and scraggly creature with one eye, squinted at the camouflage-suited hare. "Wot's a grea' big long ears doin' 'roun' 'ese parts, eh, eh?" he rasped.

Nik gave a respectful half-bow to the elders of the tribe, saying, "Ol' One Eye, this 'ere be Field Marshall O'Barukal of the Mossguard. Come t' recruit some Guosim, if'n it's decided best thing t' do."

One Eye turned his cataract gaze from Nik to the hare. Another member of the shrew council, a fat old bag of scarred and matted fur, spoke up, "An' yew t'ink we ought'n, young Logalog?" Nik glanced at O'Barukal.

"I think we ought," the chief said at length. "Mossguard be short on numbers. I think they're a good bunch fer our troops t' be fightin' wid."

"Aye, 'tis wot ye sed win ye las' went wid d' Mossguard," One Eye reminded him. "Got five gud fighters kilt, ye did. Wounded annuver."

"That were me dad's decision," Nik cut in. "Wid all due respect, One Eye, I weren't nary but a captain at th' time. But, even if I 'ad been chief, I'd'a still sent troops."

"How many Guosim do you require, Field Marshall?" said a shrew who was so old that his fur had gone completely white. His eyes were clouded over with blindness, and he clutched a short wooden cane as if it was his last connection to the world of the living.

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Tarlish had been quite impressed. These fellows calling themselves the "Mossguard" had done a very good job with their "ghille" suits and even the trained assassin had to focus to see them once they'd melted into the underbrush. Perhaps he would have to consider getting one of those for moving on the ground, or in grassy plains where it was harder to hide.

Moving quietly in the treetops, he'd kept at a distance from the troop of fifty or so, following them for a good twenty minutes. He wasn't trying to be rude, but eavesdropping and spying on various large groups was a good way to keep informed in Mossflower, and the marten was a bit too untrusting to just expose himself to every beast he met to ask for information.

But, these seemed to be good and honest beasts, they were no vermin to be sure. So Tarlish thought he could chance popping out and getting information the more direct and personal way. As the Mossguard's leader -a hare with a thick northern accent- chatted with the head of a Guosim tribe. From what he could make out, they were parlaying for some of the tough shrews to sign up for the Mossguard, whatever that may be exactly.

Yes, these beasts seemed trustworthy and good. Quickly lashing his climbing rope to the thick bough he was perched on, Tarlish let it fall to five feet off the ground, just next to the Field Marshal.

"Please restrain your blades comrades, I mean you no 'arm." He called out to the groups below, a moderate southern accent curling his words, and then slid down the rope to the troop below, landing lightly on his foot-paws. He rose slowly, keenly aware of how odd the sight of the camouflaged and armed marten in their midst might be. Arms raised cautiously to show he was unarmed, he rose to his full height. "My name is Tarlish, I merely wish to ask some questions of you good beasts if I may."

((Just so you know, his southern accent is basically a Russian one, a moderate Russian accent))

[Sigurd]

OOC: Um, Dutch, I would just like to point out, he wouldn't be able to see the patrol besides Faffub if that's what you're saying, and only him because he revealed himself. i didn't know if you meant that or not, so i wanted to clarify.

O'Barukal bowed to the elders, putting on his best manners. "Mah' pleasure, meh' lairds, and meh' ladies!"

Looking over at the white ole' shrew, he shrugged, "Ah'd loike fourty-three, at tha' very least, ef'n it was alroight with yeh' luvley shrewfolk, but I would not turn down more, ye ken!" the Field Marshall said, with a shrug. "Och, logboat fellows, those kinds of shrews t'would be tha' best. Meh' current forces made 'oop of mainly hares and squirrels. Fleet of foot, but lousy swimmers, yeh' ken!"

Being a 'longears', O'Barukal was able to hear Talrish's movement seconds before he hit the ground. Paw touching the hilt, he turned around, ready to stab him through the heart when the marten spoke. "Speak ye moind, marten, Ah'll listen. Will yeh'?" he asked, turning to the shrews.

OOC: Just realized who you were Dutch. Farrel. I remember Faffub traveled with Farrel for a short time.

[Django]

"Ah'd loike fourty-three, at tha' very least, ef'n it was alroight with yeh' luvley shrewfolk, but I would not turn down more, ye ken! Och, logboat fellows, those kinds of shrews t'would be tha' best. Meh' current forces made 'oop of mainly hares and squirrels. Fleet of foot, but lousy swimmers, yeh' ken!"

"Alla Guosim shrews be logboat shrews," the fat elder laughed.

"Aye, an' 'tis no suhprise ye squirrely types be nay good inna waters, eh, eh?" One Eye scoffed. "River 'tis a maid belongin' t' riverfolk." Nik cleared his throat loudly.

"Forty-three be reasonable," the Logalog said to the Marshall. "Unfortunately, we 'ad a hard winter, an' we only got thirty-six fighters available, an' 'at's already not countin' the pawful I aim t' keep 'round the tribe."

"T'weren't the winter wot done 'em in," One Eye croaked. "T'were that vermin frind a' yorn, eh, eh?" Nik shot a glare at the irate old one.

"That were las' summer, One Eye," the fat elder groaned, as if he'd been through this conversation a thousand times. "We 'ad plenny a' time 'twixt now an' den t' train up more fighters." Another elder spoke up.

"Aye, but den 'at vermin gang o' foxes took sum good 'uns," she put in. Nik turned back to the hare.

"So, as ye see," he concluded. "We're thin on fightin' beasts. All a' ones I'm givin' ye can paddle a logboat an' swim, though."

"Please restrain your blades comrades, I mean you no 'arm."

Nik, Ban, and the twins were on instant alert, circling the boat of elders for protection. The Logalog held up a paw to his fighters as a pine marten dropped to the ground beside the hare.

"My name is Tarlish, I merely wish to ask some questions of you good beasts if I may."

"Aye, I'll listen," Nik gave a curt nod, keeping a paw on the hilt of his rapier. "Question away."

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Tarlish nodded thankfully, keeping his hand well away from his waist.

"I thank you. As I said, my name is Tarlish. I am an assassin, a hunter, call me what you may. I hunt the enemy, the vermin, the foebeast, I hunt them wherever they may reside." He turned to address the hare Field Marshal. "I do believe your Mossguard and I seek the same ends, whatever the difference in means may be. We both strive to purge this territory of the vermin's cankerous presence wherever it may be.

"However my hunting has been difficult as of late. The usual petty bands that blunder through Mossflower have been reducing in number recently, I have been suffering the misfortune of lacking targets. I figured the Mossguard an the Guosim would be well-informed of their surroundings, and I was hoping you may advise me to any vermin presence in this region or any other, or if I would do best moving on to continue the hunt."

Tarlish smiled reassuringly. "Please do not hold me in low esteem. I know my appearance is disturbingly similar to the enemy I hunt, a regrettable feature of my race you could say. But we are not like those others, those vermin. I am sorry for my inconvenient appearance."

[Sigurd]

"Och, ye like ta' talk aloot, don't ye, laddie?" the hare asked the marten. Turning to the Logalog, he tilted his head. "Ye ever hear of an assassin who tells ye his career, meh' laddie? Och, wot an odd fellow!" the mountain hare said, shaking his camouflaged head.

Turning back to the marten, he drew his sword, in a clean sweep. "Och, Ah'd say we got tha' vermin problem in this neck of the woods, ye ken. Trust meh', Ah' know how to use this beauty, and on a wee' vermin neck is what she 'ungers fer'!" he said, sheathing his blade back.

Turning to the shrews, he nodded. "Ah' understand. Yes, we will kindly take 'em."

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Tarlish smiled quaintly, and let the creature talk.

"My good sir, where I hail from, revealing such things is a sign of trust or confidence. I trust you not to strike at me or betray me, and I likewise am confident in my own skills to escape an attack in such an event." He lowered his hands down to his side, relaxing them. "I have grown a bit tired though of hunting alone, perhaps travelling with you and your band would do me some good." He smiled. "That's why I talk so much, yes? I spend much time alone, except for the dead ones at times. I get, desperate for talk at times, da. If you look for fighters, I would be willing to join your number for a while, to purge this menace you spake of." With a slight ringing sound, the hidden blade mounted beneath his wrist shot forward, sticking out menacingly. "Aye, my own weapons hunger for the blood of the cruel ones. If you would have me, I will join your cause for the mean time" He said, snapping the blade away.

[Sigurd]

"Well, meh' lad, as much as Ah'd ove ta' have yeh' on board, yeh' look loike a loose cannon, ye ken. Ah' can't be having an operative come bither and thither as he pleases, ye ken? Ah' cannae' accept 'en' tha' meantime'. Ah'm dreadfully sorry!" O'Barukal said, eyes wary of the hidden blade. "Once agin', meh' lad, Ah' wauld not reveal tha' hidden blade yeh' conceal!"

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

Tarlish waved a dismissive paw.

"Fear not, unless you are a target." He chuckled. "But the notion of a hare being a vermin affiliate is laughable, likewise for you Guosim fellows." He nodded knowingly at the hare. "I understand you clearly, and you are wise to not employ such a fellow. In such a case though, may I accompany you? Not as a soldier, but as a comrade-in-arms? An affiliate? As I said, I would much love to be in the company of some fellow fighters once again, and I doubt you would hurt from my assistance."

[Sigurd]

"Och, once agin, meh' lad, Ah' cannae afford lettin' yeh' enter our base. Ah' can lead yeh' tae' Red'all, but not much else, unless Ah' was tae' get a more permanent enlistment, ye ken!" The hare shrugged.

"Ah' can sense yeh' are quite new tae' tha' area, meh' laddie. Vermin assosicastion es'n't uncommon nowadays! Ah' once traveled with a young marten and stoat fellow at one point en' mah' loife!"

[Directed by M. Night Shyamalan]

"Och, once agin, meh' lad, Ah' cannae afford lettin' yeh' enter our base. Ah' can lead yeh' tae' Red'all, but not much else, unless Ah' was tae' get a more permanent enlistment, ye ken!" Tarlish shook his head sadly.

"I'm afraid not comrade, my loyalties are to my kinsmen only, and you don't quite pass for that." He said jokingly. Tarlish was smiling, until the hare's last statement. His smile dropped and his brow furrowed. "What in Ka's name would inspire you to accompany such manner of things? Have you not the sense to know that such things as the vermin cannot be associates of one anymore than sickness." He shook his head disapprovingly. "In all my life, and in the lives of all my kinsmen and their ancestors, has an honest vermin e'er been met. They are all rotten in their core."