Northward

[Tracy]

It was always easy to tell when Ripley Contarelle was about to be sent out on an assignment. Never was the haremaid more chipper or more agreeable than when she was about to travel away from Salamandastron. Like most of the mountain, the scout had heard rumors about trouble brewing in the north. With a rough winter behind them, the Long Patrol finally had the capacity to send some of their own out on reconnaissance missions. Ripley had been a quick choice amongst the commanding officers, and she was absolutely ready and willing.

What she wasn't so prepared for, however, was that the higher-ups would require her to take others. Ripley didn't work so very well with others, but she could at least stomach it while working at the mountain. But out on recon? That was outrageous! She tried reasoning, complaining, arguing, and then just whining, all to no avail. Ripley was going to share this responsibility with others. They didn't know who yet, so they allowed the haremaid to stew for a few days while they worked out the details.

Although not happy with how things were panning out for her, Ripley took those few days to try and take a more positive outlook on the situation. She was still going to travel, and it seemed like it could be an awfully important mission; rather dangerous, to boot. And she was the cleverest scout the Patrol had to offer, so surely Ripley would be in charge of the outfit, right?

Two evenings later she found out how very wrong she was. Two other hares. Two officers! Were they NUTS? In the grand scheme of things, Cordin wouldn't be so bad. The corporal was unlikely to lord over his rank, especially given the haremaid was a far more experienced scout and traveler than he. But Captain Wavebob? They were sending her out with a CAPTAIN? There was more reasoning. More arguing. More complaining and whining. Nothing helped. Although she couldn't help but brood over her misfortune, she had to wonder if the captain had likewise drawn the short straw. Most of the commanding officers did whatever they could to not have to be directly in charge of Ripley.

But the next morning, bright and early, she was ready as always. The sun was barely up and she was up at the mountain's main gate, bobbing readily on the balls of her footpaws. Although not the ideal situation, she was hardly about to let a couple other hares ruin what could be a really great recon trip. Dressed in her traveling attire and rapier at her hip, she looked as antsy as ever to get going. To see her eagerness, one would think she was rarely allowed to leave the walls of Salamandastron.

[Romulus]

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Cordin was not.

Well, that was a lie. Technically, he was excited to be traveling. He didn't get to travel often, him not being a scout anymore, and all that. He was not going to turn down the opportunity to do so. But, the early morning. Oh, how he hated it.

Nevertheless, he was ready. Longbow and quiver strapped to his back, rapier strapped to his belt, he was most definitely ready. He'd wanted to bring along his halberd, but it would've been far too cumbersome for the journey. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if the longbow and arrows were a bit too much when he walked out into the morning sunshine and saw Ripley rip-roarin' to go. Well, that just made his morning better.

"Jolly good morn to ye, me flower," the corporal greeted as cheerfully as he could muster. It was not at all difficult for him to see how much Ripley really wanted to be leaving like right this second. Captain Wavebob better hurry, or Rip might just leave without him.

Cordin stepped up beside the haremaid, flashing a smile but saying nothing more. Though he'd perked up at the sight of her, mornings were not his favorite time of the day. As a result, he wasn't feeling particularly chatty. At least the weather was nice enough.

[Kenyon]

Aidan was not late. In fact, he had been up and ready to go far earlier than the younger two hares. Unfortunately, it was the fourth member of their party that had caused his absence. She'd shown up to the gate, carrying only a belt knife and nothing else. Aidan had sighed and towed her off to supply. If she was to be traveling with them, she would have to carry her share of the load. She was healthy enough to pack a load, and she would.

He rather thought she'd carried heavier loads in a less healthful state, anyway.

"I've taught you, and Lt. Sersea's taught you, you should carry a better blade than that. Its little more than a kitchen knife." He admonished the otter as he armed her.

Tampa sullenly accepted the double blades, though she was truly pleased to receive them. They were perfectly balanced, and fit neatly across her back for easy reach. She'd never learned to fight before coming here, knowing only to close with her enemy and try to batter them to submission. She was getting to like the swords.

"Lets go." She said brusquely, settling the pack on her shoulders. The older hare shifted his own pack and led the way towards the gate. Ripley may be the best scout at the mountain, but they were not merely scouting now, and they would need the supplies. He'd packed them himself, and they were small, but contained all that would be required. There might even still be snow up north.

"Here." He tossed a bag each to Ripley and Cordin. "Scout Contarelle, if you find that too heavy when you range ahead, one of us will carry it. But when you're with us, you'll carry your share."

(Hope that's ok. I noticed none of you guys mentioned supplies, but I can edit things if you want)

[Tracy]

Violet eyes followed Cordin as he approached Ripley. It was easy to see the corporal was not good friends with the early morning. But then, few beasts were. The scout didn't really understand it. She cherished daylight like nothing else, especially when she was traveling. The idea of squandering even a few minutes of it seemed almost indecent.

But Ripley met Cordin's cheerful greeting with a playfully knowing smile. "Morning. Mayhap you could do with a quick hop in the sea t'liven you up a bit," she offered jokingly. The air may have finally been growing warmer with the spring, but the sea was still frigid and unwelcoming. She was still bobbing impatiently on her footpaws, as if she might get a better view of the last approaching member of their party.

Her relief at seeing Aidan was short-lived, however, when her gaze landed on his companion. Ripley knew well-enough who the otter was, and even how she was tied with some of the rumors of danger in the northlands. What she didn't know was what Tam was doing there. A fourth member to an already too-large group (in Ripley's opinion, at least) was a wholly unwelcome sight. She couldn't say she was surprised to see the otter though, given her connection with the mission, although she wondered why the officers had neglected to tell her about this little addition.

Ripley gave a grunt of surprise as a bag was tossed to her, having been paying the captain practically no attention as she studied the otter. Holding it, she looked at him a little blankly, confused. Ripley never had more than a hip satchel on her when going on a recon mission, having taught herself to virtually live off the land. Wordlessly, she slipped the pack over her shoulders, thinking about how things were already going different than she was accustomed. She wasn't sure she could handle having another hare in charge of her on a scouting mission, but she at least had the sense to not let things go poorly right from the get-go.

"Morning, Captain," she said, just to say something, but her gaze was still focused on the otter.

"Are you good t'travel an' keep up?" she asked Tam, not unkindly. Although it might not have been the most polite question, Ripley certainly didn't mean it to be rude. She just meant it seriously; these missions were one of the few things the haremaid took very seriously in her life.

[Tulian Solum]

(Would it be out of the question to bring Seig along? I would assume his foot has been healed by now and I doubt they would wish to keep him at the mountain. Though I understand if the traveling party is too large at present.)

[Romulus]

Cordin only half-smiled at Ripley's morning swim joke. His attention was drawn to the older captain and the ottermaid as the two beasts joined them outside the fortress.

"Good morn', Captain," the corporal said in greeting. He nodded to the ottermaid, adding, "Miss." He'd probably forgotten her name on purpose. She had attacked him and called him 'rabbit' far too many times when they'd met, after all.

"Here." He tossed a bag each to Ripley and Cordin.

Cordin caught the bag deftly, smiling. "Excellent foresight, Captain," the young buck observed, slinging the pack onto one shoulder. "Are we to be go--" He stopped as Ripley asked the otter if she'd be fit to travel.

If you asked Cordin, he'd have said sure the otter could travel. If she had been able to insult him and nearly knock him unconscious in the state she was in when he'd met her, then it was perfectly obvious that, given her current good health, traveling would be naught but a walk in the park for her.

But he kept his thoughts to himself, smirking a little as he moved past the two females before potential sparks began to fly.

[Grath]

Aidan knew that Ripley was not used to working in a group, but at some point all scouts had to learn. It wasn’t always best for a scout to leave the mountain and return. Armies on the move needed scouts as well, and from the Badgerlord’s reaction to the presence of Tampa and her cousin it was quite likely that that was what the Northlands would see later this spring: the Long Patrol army.

"Morning, Captain," she said, just to say something, but her gaze was still focused on the otter.

Aidan greeted her in return and joined Cordin as he walked towards the gate. The pair on duty were already working on opening it. He figured to let the ottermaid take care of herself, she was vicious, that one. “Its probably still cold and snowing up north.” He commented in response to Cordin’s earlier words. “We’re leaving as soon as the gate’s open.”

--

"Are you good t'travel an' keep up?"

Tampa observed Ripley with no kindness at all. She stood easily under the weight of her pack, slight though it was, Aidan had packed well. She spat rudely to one side, glowering at the haremaid.

“Are ye good t’travel an’ keep up, miss? Ye don’ look like much, hardly an’y muscle at all. ‘sides, all ye in this place are soft. Fat.” She added, to clear up any confusion. “Ye eat easy, an’ do ‘ardly an’y work. Easy life, an’ ye ask me if Ah can ‘andle a little easy travel.”

She walked past Ripley towards the gate. Her words came drifting over her shoulder, for she didn’t even turn her head to say them. “Ah en’t carrying ye if’n ye fall behind.”

[Tracy]

Having never spoken with the otter before, Ripley was a mite surprised by Tam's caustic reply. The haremaid had even tried being polite, which was not a courtesy she afforded many. The look of surprise was quickly replaced with amusement at the otter's asinine, rambling insults. Oh my, she was going to be fun! Cordin was usually more happy and flirtatious with her, and Aidan was really just a stodgy old officer, but this nasty otter had a sharp tongue worth sparring with.

Ripley pivoted on the ball of her footpaw, following after Tam and the others toward the gate. Just as they were approaching, the morning guard was setting up to open the main gate. How droll, they had to leave the mountain the proper way.

"Say," she started in with Tam. "You any good with those blades you're toting about? Or is your preferred method of battle a good tongue-lashing?" Ripley absolutely could not help herself. She was sure the captain would be upset with her, but the otter had just called all of them soft and fat, hadn't she? But the scout didn't even sound angry. She sounded like she was having fun.

"That's my mother's weapon of choice as well. That an' she knits a mean scarf. I bet you two would be just the right match on a field of battle."

The gates were opening up for the lot, and despite her amusement in quarreling with the otter, her excitement of imminent travel was winning out again.

"Aye," she said now in reply to Aidan's remark. "They were still gettin' significant snow last year three weeks into spring. That's why the River Moss was still overflowin' its banks nearly t'summer with the melting snow from the northern mountains."

Speaking of the River Moss, roughly their halfway point, she could make it there on her own in under a week, even in unfavorable weather. She'd be surprised if them traveling as four could make it in twice that. As the gate opened, Ripley quickly moved past the others, slipping through when the gate was barely open yet. "C'mon my courageous company! My bold bunch! My fearless f—" Ripley hesitated, unable to come up with a working synonym. "My perilous patrol!" There we go! "Can't be wastin' any sunlight, there's still a chill at night."

[Django]

Cordin snorted once as the sparks he'd predicted began to fly between Ripley and Tampa. He bit his lip to keep from laughing and tried to sniff away the smile he felt coming on. Following Ripley as the gates began to open, the buck allowed himself a chuckle at her skipping and sashaying.

"C'mon my courageous company! My bold bunch! My fearless f—My perilous patrol! Can't be wastin' any sunlight, there's still a chill at night."

"Yours, are we?" the corporal said. "Well, I'd follow a gel with a knack for bloody alliteration like yours most any-bloomin'-where, wot?" He trotted beside the haremaid through the now open gates, blinking a bit in the morning sunshine. It was nice, but it was still morning.

[Grath]

"Say," she started in with Tam. "You any good with those blades you're toting about? Or is your preferred method of battle a good tongue-lashing?"

“Ah’m learnin’. Tampa said shortly, not looking at the cheery hare. They were all cheery here, even if they were being snarky. Tampa tried not to get too worked up about it, since if she did she’d likely start getting violent. Over the moons here she had learned that violence was not necessarily the best first reaction.

"That's my mother's weapon of choice as well. That an' she knits a mean scarf. I bet you two would be just the right match on a field of battle."

“Is that so.”

"Aye," she said now in reply to Aidan's remark. "They were still gettin' significant snow last year three weeks into spring. That's why the River Moss was still overflowin' its banks nearly t'summer with the melting snow from the northern mountains."

“’They’ were still getting’ snow two months inta spring.” Tampa corrected, who was there. She didn’t stop to consider that perhaps they were talking about different areas in the north. She shifted the bag on her back, turning a bemused eye on the skipping haremaid.

"C'mon my courageous company! My bold bunch! My fearless f—" Ripley hesitated, unable to come up with a working synonym. "My perilous patrol!" There we go! "Can't be wastin' any sunlight, there's still a chill at night."

“Fearless foursome.” Tampa suggested, a grudging smile tugging at her lips briefly.

--

Aidan smiled as he marched along with the younger creatures. How many times had he marched from these gates in his youth? How many since? He spent more time away from the mountain than actually in it. His patrol ranged everywhere, for months at a time. Still, he didn’t like the sound of this Bane. It might seem like an adventure to the rest of the group (possibly excluding the otter) but he had a grim feeling about this.

Well, it was hard to tell with Ripley and Cordin. They could be just as worried as he, but covering up their concern with bravado. Hares were always good at that.

[Sigurd]

"Liven' up, lads! The morning patrol is up!" the Colour Sergeant declared swigging from his canteen. "Gonzo, Tupa, Fribbs, you three head south two kilometers, Fribbs Prime, Uggutuli, Jerpo, you three head northwest two kilometers. Ah' want you men reporting back here by twelve hundred hours!"

"Yes, sah!" the cry was unanimous, as the six young hares saluted their colour sergeant, before grasping their weapons and setting off.

--

Settling back into the grass, the sarge took a deep swig of the contents of his cask. "Ah, what a luvely morning, wot? Don't you agree, Presley?"

Corporal Scott Presley saluted his superior with his javelin, "Aye, sah, luvely day, isn't it!" he called out, in the military form.

(Already made the post. They're at River Moss, up north, by the way)

[Tracy]

Ripley was bobbing like a leveret on her paws as she waited for the whole group to come through the gate. The otter's utter lack of retort to the scout's jibes was horribly disappointing. Was she losing her touch? By all accounts, this otter was an easy beast to get a rise out of, but she'd brushed Ripley off like nothing. If this trip was going to be all politeness and propriety, Ripley was going to lose her mind. If she was forced into slower travel by companions, she needed them to at least amuse her.

With Tam a total failure, Ripley looked to Aidan instead. The scout knew next to nothing about the captain, which was a little unusual. One of the reasons the haremaid made such an excellent scout was a natural ability to collect large amounts of information and be able to tuck it neatly away into her memory. Snippets of conversation, glances in hallways, facial expressions, where one chose to sit at mealtimes, they all gave her information about those around her. She was able to piece all those little things together and come up with a fairly good profile on most any beast at Salamandastron she came into contact with.

Ripley was familiar with the captain's family situation in general; that his mother had died when he was young, that he had a sister with the same father but a different mother. She was that mouthy infirmary keeper who liked to lecture her patients and throw deploring looks across the room. Aidan didn't seem much like that. He hadn't even stopped her from verbally assaulting their otter companion. Still, that was about the limit of her knowledge of the group's leader. Well, that would certainly be changed before they walked back through that gate.

Still, best not try her luck before she got a better feel for the captain.

So that left Cordin. He was an open book. Ripley wondered if there was even anything she gained to learn about the corporal. "When was the last time you left the mountain?" she asked. She couldn't recall him having been on any actual patrols since the two had been... friends? Would she call it friends? She'd have to think about if and when that actually happened. Anyway. She knew her and the captain would be fine travelers – perhaps the otter, too, who the heck even knew – but she couldn't help but be concerned about Cordin being roped into such a long, trying journey.

They were making their way down close to the water, where the sand was a bit harder and more compact, making for easier travel. She was still bouncing a bit. If she weren't on patrol, this morning would've been one of her sprinting exercises. Her body seemed to be trying to remind her. Glancing ahead, she spoke aloud. "I think when we get past the first ridge, I'll dip inland to to see nothing's amiss about the valley... mayhap just half a league." It didn't seem like she was asking permission, merely letting them into her thought process.

[Ash Rowan]

Pawl had been up early that day, that PLUS his usual insanity... He was in a bad mood. He had been venting his anger on some bushes and his fur was full of leaves. He spoke to the other officers, "Well sahs, It would be more beautiful if this dratted snow was gone and we sped up a little, wot!" He sighed, "Sorry chaps, It's just that, I don't know I, I can't take the cold! I was raised in the south and I'm not used to this weather. I'm not meant for it!" he sat down next to them, munching an apple and drinking some hot tea, brushing leaves from his fur.

[Sigurd]

"Zade, Ah'm going to say this once, wot! Shut it!" the platoon leader declared, taking a swig of his cask. "How 'bout you make a fire, and cook our scouts some grub, and be quiet, wot!" MacCross declared, taking a swig of his cask. "Us'n Long Patrol types were made for anything and everything, and that means cold, or warm, salad or grog!"

"Presley, go catch Zade a fish for him to cook!" MacCross ordered.

"Yes, sah!" the corporal saluted, before heading off.

[Ash Rowan]

Pawl sighed, he spoke quietly enough so he wasn't heard imitating the colour sergeant in an exaggerated accent, "Presley! Goo cetch Zade a fish for 'im ta cook! Reduced to a mere cook! Jolly bad form, wot! And a fish of all things! Had too many of them in my lifetime. Hmph!" He prepared a cooking fire for the fish, "I certainly won't have any of that!"

The cooking fire wasn't anything fancy, just a ring of stones with a stack of wood. When he was done, he called to the colour sergeant, "Cooking fire done, sah!" He continued whispering, "Can't believe I'm referring to somebeast younger than me as 'Sah'" He grunted. (keep in mind that they didn't hear that)

[Sigurd]

(Last post before waiting for others)

Even if he did hear him, the colour sergeant couldn't care less. He sat back on the grass, drinking from his cask. "Ah, some good ale, wot!" he murmured to himself, closing his good eye. "Ah' want those fish well done, Sergeant Zade, wot! And, the name's Colour Sergeant! You only address officas as sah! Bad form there, wot!"

--

A few minutes later, the lean corporal Presley strode over, carrying three medium sized trouts. Tossing them to Zade, he nodded. "Here you go, chap! I'm quite partial to smoked trout, wot!"

[Tulian Solum]

Seig had been expecting this day and action to come to him eventually. Ever since his foot had fully mended he had watched more and more higher ranking hares talking to him to see if he was alright, probably on orders from Lord Braythe. Sure enough once he had said that he was feeling alright, and he assumed they had watched him when he trained to be sure, he was marched to the large gate early in the morning and told to wait.

Leaning out the large open gate Seig squinted down the sands toward the forest he had come from...that would be as good as place as any to head towards. Only looking momentarily at the creatures moving down toward it he sighed, turning back to look around the large mountain entrance. After all the time it took him to get here he was being 'thrown' out the door. Now what was he going to do? Nothing was coming up, besides the other large structure Redwall that he had been told about didn't sound that much more welcome to his kind, at least according to the tales he had been told on the road.

Looking over as the hares brought over the equipment he arrived with and they were dumped next to him. Rolling his eyes a little he was at least happy to see that they had repaired his torn backpack, though his armor still seemed a little worse for wear. Starting to pack his armor and equipment into his backpack he eventually got the rations they left him with inside with his armor. Hoisting the backpack over his shoulder he nodded and smiled at the hare guard who had walked back inside the fortress. Strapped his sword to his waist and picking up his halberd he held out his paw to thank the hares for their hospitality, but they had all already went back inside the fortress.

Sighing again Seig gave a little salute to the fortress and turned around to leave Salmandrastron. Still with his mind on what to do now he just started to walk off toward the smudge of green on the horizon, but due to his lack of experience on the sands and his distracted mine he stuck to the higher shifty sands. A separate and harder journey, though heading in the same direction, mostly, as the scout party.

(That alright?)

[Romulus]

Cordin himself was also gauging the other members of the party, hoping for a conversation partner. He knew little about the Captain, and of course he wasn't a fan of the otter. So it looked like his choices were boiled down to Ripley. Not that he had any qualms about that at all.

Unfortunately, they both seemed to realize this and act upon it at the same time.

"How jolly far north have ye ever been, Rip?" he asked at the exact moment Ripley said, "When was the last time you left the mountain?"

Cordin's ears rotated back sheepishly. He chuckled lightly, fiddling with his gold medallion. Always awkward to speak simultaneously, especially when neither one of you meant to do so.

"Er, wot?" he tried again. "Oh, when was the last--yes, I believe it was about, uh . . . well! Three flippin' years ago, actually, wot? 'Twas when I got mauled by a bloody shark, it was. Though, technically, I didn't go too bloomin' far from ol' Sali, so I s'pose that doesn't count."

"I think when we get past the first ridge, I'll dip inland to to see nothing's amiss about the valley... mayhap just half a league."

Cordin nodded. "Righto, me gel," he replied. Even if Rip had been asking permission, he wasn't the one to ask. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to him.

[Ash Rowan]

Pawl sighed, preparing the trout. When he was done, he gave them each an even amount, "Here, you can have your fish, I smoked them with hazel bark and seasoned them with garlic, I was on galley duty on the corsair ship once, all we ate was fish."

[Grath]

Aidan was content to march mostly in silence. They covered good ground, all of them fresh and Ripley practically bounding around the group. He wasn’t surprised when she proposed (announced) that she wanted to do a little scouting. Well, no harm, and a lot of good. He didn’t like marching blind through the countryside, even less than two hours from Salamandastron.

“Good idea.” Was all he said. He really didn’t need to, but he couldn’t just let her assume it’d be all her way and then suddenly take command in a spot of trouble. Best to start early. And it was a good idea.

He wondered if they’d come upon Ductile Cross’s patrol as they passed up north. It could be a good time to exchange information, but they were going farther north than his patrol ever patrolled. To the high north coast. He frowned and unhooked his water pouch, taking a swig. “No wonder the otter tribes have been so silent.” He commented to no one in particular. It wasn’t unusual for them to ‘disappear’ for years, they kept to themselves under most circumstances. But twenty years? Someone should have remarked upon it before now.