You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours

[coolcoyote]

The look of pure shock on Baro's face was priceless as the mouse sailed under him. Set into an uncomfortable position on his middle with a ribbon ready to choke the life out of him the fox's face is now one of quick calculation. "I think..." he says in a horse voice with his air supply limited, "After much...(gulp) ...consideration, I am ready to hear your plan." For once Baro was glad he was locked in side a cell down in the depths of a dungeon.

No one could see him get his tail handed to him by a mouse that way...

______________________

Meanwhile up stairs Wolf did what he was good at and wolfed down the last of his mead in one big gulp. He had learned early on that any drink you have before meeting Vermillion could very likely be your last. Thrusting the empty mug into the chest of the rat next to him Wolf adjusted his belt across his waist before striding over at a gait that was neither quick nor slow.

"Welcome back Fearless Leader." The fox says as he takes a deep bow, his rotund belly grazing his knees as he did so. "And DeathClaw, so nice to see you up and about as well."

The weasel sneared as the fox raised back up to his full height. "It's DarkClaw these days actually." The fox and the ferret's eyes both flashed with ill content at each other but neither would dare insult their lord by having petty rivalries right infront of him. Besides, it was wise to remember that every beast here, be they cowersome backstabbing stoat, or foolish fat fox, were here for a reason, and that reason usually involved violence.

The fox leaned forward to peer closely at his employers latest adition to his necklace. So said to bind the power of those the weasel defeats to him. The fox didn't believe a word of it of course, but frankly the warlord could believe what ever he wanted to as long as the fox got his share of mead and meat.

"I see you have yourself another trophey...still bloody too." Wolf subconciously rubbed at his own muzzle thinking about all the times he had a tooth replaced with a gold substitute. "I'm sure that will make a fine tale at the feast tonight."

ooc Lol! I give the minions a 50/50 chance of survival just to keep it interesting. If they live then we get to see them later down the road, if not, well, there will be other sniveling wferrets and fat bellied gluttonous foxes and thiefy lizards ^^ Also, I was wondering, since fern leaf had made up an npc if he wanted to run his npc here as well talking with vermillion and such.

also, I've got the idea about what Steck did to Baro alright ^^ I keep forgetting he is a mouse, not a squirrel. I have noticed a few grammer errors, sentence structure and few words in plural form instead of singular, small stuff probibly due to a translation error (They never translate fully into the other language XD) but nothing I feel needs called out on, especially since I am horrible typist SO don't worry, you are doing good

English is a hard language to learn, even for us who grow up with it XD If you are ever in doubt try speaking what you say out loud or have a friend read over it.

[Caterpillar]

# OOC: So we'll leave it to the Fortune and Destiny o decide who shall live and who shall die x)

Good to hear you could make heads and ends from my writing! x) I try my best get better in this. #


Well, at least the fox calmed down. Nothing calmed anybeast quicker than danger of suffocation, that was sure. But even though the fox was back being civilized again Steck hesitated for a moment. He couldn't know for sure if the vulpine could be trusted: the other could leap over him that instant Steck let him go. No more would he have his element of surprise and next time fox would be more cautious if he tried to attack him. But then again, he just couldn't sit on fox's shoulders and keep strangling him for whole night through.
"Glad we could see eye to eye in this", Steck loosened the ribbon, releasing fox from its choking embrace. The bard lifted himself off, stepping back and observing the fox and his next move. Whatever was to come, let it come, the mouse thought. He would survive as he had survived always...

______


Vermilion's steps slowed down until they came to completely halt, as the warlord made the Quartermaster come to him. Wolf bowed and Vermilion acknowledged him with small nod his eyes locking on the Quartermaster.
"Tale it will indeed be", Vermilion confirmed, his lips curving into crooked smile. "And you will have a set in my table so you'll hear all about it. Maybe it will make your fighter blood boiling again."
When Wolf had joined him, the fox had been in prime of his life: both body and spirit. The fox had been unmatchable fighter and a comrade on battlefields and look at him now: overweighed and lazy guzzler. It was very regrettable state look at. Wolf had been so much potential and all had gone to waste... Vermilion knew he would had eventually appointed the fox as his right-hand-beast if gluttony hadn't caught the fox first. What a good opportunity lost... It almost felt like he had lost a comrade he had known over the years.

Or maybe not. Wolf still had his unyielding nature - which he wisely kept under the lid - quick-witted comebacks and his guts . Maybe the fox, despite all that fat, hadn't changed too much. Or maybe it was just his wishful thinking... but still Vermilion mused often, what it would take to shake the fox off his comfy stool back the way he once was.
"I want you to bring that small barrel of home-brew out of my personal stash. The one which has been saved for a special occasion", the warlord told the Quartermaster. "And bring it with you."


#OOC: Not sure where I'm going here, just trying to figure out what kind of relationships Vermilion would have to his minions. You can also do that in your end! (: I don't mind, quite the contrary: it would be interesting to know how minions view their relation to their fearless leader. xD #

[fernleaf]

OOC: Fate or Destiny? You called?

IC:

The call of Fate or Destiny was the usual to the cloaked one who was approaching. She was a rat, and the hordes usually gave her a wide berth. There was something frightening about this one, who could see better with her bad eye than her good one. She wore an eyepatch over one, and the other gleamed from under the hood of her cloak. She leaned on a staff, which tapped on the ground of the cavern and echoed. She wore a red collar on her neck, the sign of one of Vermillion's minions. A pouch was at her side. She was a Seer, this Zagreb, an apprentice, but skilled in her own right. It was the ways of the Seers, a master and an apprentice, there were only two. Until an accident happeened to the Master, then the apprentice became the master, until that one took an apprentice, and the cycle began once again.

Her look, her grin, her manner, even her scent, gave the aura of mystery and foreboding. It was what spooked the others in the horde, for who knows if she would foretell whether they lived or died, or what was the fortune of the Redglades horde?

She was one of the few who could come and go and approach Vermillion. She nodded to Dark Claw, Snivels, otherwise, she took little notice. The same with the fat fox.

Zagreb had been secretly troubled by disturbing visions, two in fact. One was of a mouse in armor, a warrior she had never seen before, with a sword, the gleam of which hurt her eye. The other was a whirling storm, which had a stripe in the middle, and red eyes, the eyes of wrath, destroying all in its path. The roar haunted her dreams.

But she hid those until she could figure out what they meant.

The rat approached Vermillion and bowed her head slightly. She giggled, which almost caused the guards to faint, and grip their weapons tightly. "You called, m'lud." she said, quietly. "Zagreb is here at thy bidding."

[coolcoyote]

Both Fox and weasel turn towards the seer in training as she approaches. Both inwardly sigh. Each had their reasons for wanting to avoid the beast. It was the one thing both Snivels and Wolf ageed on. Seers were trouble, doubly so for the rats master. Although Wolf was at a loss to say why Snivels avoided the seer, prehaps he was just creeped out by her appearence. The fox knew he certainly was.

But for Wolf it was for more personal reasons. It was true, he was a feirce fighting beast long ago until they grew so big that someone had to fill in the role of administrator to keep their supplies in check. Before he had rounded out into the position he had now he had seen many beasts supposedly blessed, or protected by unatural means die horribly at his side, or at his blade. Quite frankly the only purpose of a 'seer' in the fox's opinion was to convince beasts to throw themselves to danger like the cannon fodder they were.

But Vermillion seemed to love using them so Wolf wouldn't argue the point. His spirits lift at the mention of the wine. Hi tail wags happily as he says with a grin, "Must have been a VERY good fight. I'll have it waiting for you at the table." He takes another, smaller bow. Nodding to the rat, "Ma'am." As he departed their side.

The ferret tries to hide his sneer as he watched the fox go. Forcing a smile upon his lips the ferret rubbed at his paws in a nervous manner. "Zagreb! So p-pleasent to see you. How is your master? Did he get the coat I sent him?" Despite Dark's own feelings on seeers which were ironically simular to the fox he hated so much, he saw no reason not to get on the seers good side. "And sir, me lord, I-is there anything else your humble servant can get for you?"

_____________

Little did Baro know of the conversation up above and little did he care. Rubbing at his neck the brown furred fox sat down on his haunches. He spat to the side and coughed, "Ok Mouse...I'm listening. What do you need me to do?"

[fernleaf]

The rat secretly enjoyed the effect she had on those she met. It was an affirmation of the power she had as a Seer. It was an omen that her time was coming.

Her attention was for the moment fixed on the ferret who remained. "My master is well, and appreciates the gift you sent him. A star is rising, but must not become overconfident, is what I see." Her grin widened, before she turned back to Vermillion. She awaited his word.

[Caterpillar]

# OOC: Glad you could join us fernleaf ^^ #


The fox truly was calmed down and willing to listen, so Steck relaxed and he put away his ribbon, back inside his sleeve. Then he too sat down, opposite Fox - it might be better not change the names. He would be Mouse to vulpine and vulpine would be Fox to him.
"It depends... How confident you're in your acting skills?"
The friendly twinkle was back in the mouse's brown eyes and he was smiling - not as broadly as before, but it was still a merry smile as if that little incident before had never happened.

________


A corner of the warlords mouth twitched as he watched amused how both Wolf's and Snivels' expression changed when Zagreb walked to them. He knew very well how nervous Wolf and Snivels where in company of the apprentice and almost every one beast in the tribe shared that feeling. Not Vermilion though. The warlord himself was never nervous when meeting the seers, master or apprentice. All in all they where his subjects, his property, as every and last one in this tribe was, so why should he be nervous? Still, the weasel followed the old traditions and treated seer and his apprentice with respect, however distain it sometime was. But not even soothsayers were save when warlord's anger got out of the hand. Only Orbweaver had the talent soothe the Vermilion's temper and have him listen to the reason if there still was a way make the warlord listen. Zagred may be an extraordinary talented seer like her master - and Redglades was fortunate have two such a beast in the tribe - but it was crystal clear that out of those two Orbweaver was still Vermilion's favorite and warlord preferred him over the younger seer. It most certainly gnawed the female rat's mind.
Vermilion gazed upon the female seer.
"I did" He aswered to Zagred's first words. "The victory was ours but we lost some good warriors back there. I have chosen you to perform the Sending at the feast. Skinface here..." Vermilion made a small gesture and behind him a rat - whose face was covered with scars, thus the name - hurried to step forward.
"... will provide you all the names of fallen warriors. I expect no-one is left out."
Skinface's expression dropped in horror as he looked at Zagred but the rat wasn't stupid to protest his lord's order. That would have been a death sentence.

Redglades didn't believe in the next life: when beast died, his spirit would leave its dwelling-place but then just disappear like curl of smoke into the wind, becoming absolutely nothing. Only special actions, like taking something from the dead body, chanting the name of dead trice and some other rituals like that would prevent the spirit or small part of it vanish completely. The Sending was a ritual to send spirits free from their corpses, so they wouldn't get stuck in here and bring bad omen to the tribe. Usually Orbweaver was the one do this important task but for some reason, Vermilion had decided give this change to Zagred. But not without proper warning of task's importance as the warlord's eyes narrowed while he added with dangerous tone:
"Don't disappoint me"

There was sniveling voice next to him and Vermilion's head turned from Zagred to Snivels, his other eyebrow lift like warlord was surprised to see the ferret still here. A dangerous gleam flashed in Vermilion's red eyes and his smile turned into sinister sneer.
"Didn't I already order you to get going and tell them they may start?" he snarled his good mood quickly changed. Vermilion didn't like to give same orders twice. "And while you're at it, make sure Cutaway's chair is placed back next to my seat! Now scram!"
Warriors behind the warlord made small step backwards, out of the instant range of their lords outburst. Vermilion's temper was always unpredictable - you couldn't never know what would irritate him in which chosen time. One day he could be laughing at a joke and next cut ear off from the one who had dared to tell it.

Many warriors pricked up their ears at the mention of that name. Cutaway had been Vermilion's previous second-in-command, a black-and-grey ferret, next only to warlord himself. He had died couple months ago in a way no-one warrior worth his blade wished to go. First Cutaway stomach had acted up, then it had gone worse with cramps... And one morning he was found dead in his own bed. It really wasn't a true warriors death and many pitied the ferret for his bad luck. Redgales didn't bury their dead: after battles corpses were left lying under the open sky and eventually scavenger birds would devour them, freeing the spirits into nothingness. Only if tribe member died inside the Fangfort, his carcass was carried outside and lifted on the high platform where the corpse become feast of scavengers - like beast himself had feasted on other lives when he had lived. Cutaway's corpse should had been burned as he was a high ranking soldier in the army and thus legitimated to have the honor of cremation. But he had been lifted up on the platform like a foot-soldier or common tribe-member. Rumor was that it was because of Vermilion hadn't been satisfied with Cutaway's abilities as of late and the warlord didn't see a reason give true warrior's honor to one who wasn't worth it. Next meal after the burial Cutaway's seat had been empty like underlining ferret's absence and day after that it had been completely removed. If Vermilion wanted the seat of second-in-command back to his table, it implied that warlord was finally going to announce his new right-hand-beast.


# OOC: y strategy is wear you both down with a long post U_u'' #

[coolcoyote]

Snivel's does what he does best, which is to make a high pitched noise of panic and scurry off to take care of his assigned duties bumping shoulders with another beast as he does. The beast, an otter of all things, in nearly knocked off his feet.

He is a average in hieght compared to the other vermin here and dresses simularly to them. The hide vest and greeves he wore were made from the same fox. He had needed some form of 'red' clothing to show his loyalty to Vermillion so he had challenged one of his fellow vulpine warriors to a duel. The rest they say, is history.

The sword he carried across his shoulder was a wide bladed cutlass, the hilt decorated in red feathers.

The otter smiles as he watches the ferret depart in a hurry, showing off his front teeth which have been filed down into fangs. Turning on his heal the otter notices Vermillion consulting with his seer. Deciding it best to leave the two alone the otter begins walking for one of the side doors.

Besides it has been a long day. The otter is still sore from all the violence he imparted upon those bandits. Prehaps the others are right, Rasilisk thinks, Maybe I should go a bit easier next time. He chuckles to himself out loud. That will be the day.

_____

Baro raised his eyebrow. He passes him a toothy fox smile. "Now /this/ is starting to sound more like a plan I can get behind." He cruls up onto his haunches and scratches behind his ear with his hind paw, "WHat did you have in mind?"

[fernleaf]

Zagreb bowed as she received the order of Vermillion. "It shall be done according to thy word, m'lud." she said. "The word that all Redglades lives or dies by."

She looked to the waiting, trembling rat. "Come, Skinface, we have much to do before the feast so that the Sending will be a success." Without looking to see if he was following, and he would be a fool not to, as it would mean being skinned alive. Right now, Orbweaver was his favorite, and it wasn't yet time to ascend to the Master's place. But the mood of Vermillion could change, and quickly. She had foreseen it! If only that other vision didn't constantly get in the way of her Sight. But the omens were right otherwise.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bat, born Nightwing, though preferring Lord Cayvear, had received the reports from his minions. The relationship with the occupying Redglades was a precarious one, but a profitable one. The vermin below largely left them alone, as they had Vermillion's favor, as they were very useful to him, letting him know what was passing in his realm, and coming outside in the dark to see what was to be seen,or as much as bats could see. But sight was the least of their senses, they had other ways of gathering information, known only to bats.

But he would only come when called, so he fluttered above, awaiting an audience from the Warlord of the Redglades.

[Caterpillar]

# OOC: sorry, couldn't yet come up with any idea of what business Vermilion would have with Nightwing right now ^^'' As soon as I get one, they will meet but now: TO THE FEAST! #


Steck straightened his hat and spoke in low tone as if not wanting no-one else gear them.
"Well, like I said they are going to send the captured enemy tribe members first. To them, Bloodring isn't just a blood-sport: it's the chance for them prove themselves as true warriors. And get in the warlord's favor. So actually they pick very carefully who they want to fight against. Because if opponent doesn't offer good challenge, they prove nothing and match will be boring. And Vermilion never rewards the victor of boring match "
He had spent enough time on the steps of Vermilion's throne to see and learn how Redglades lived their lives.
"So if you manage look weak and wretched enough no way anyone is going to want you in same ring with him. Slaying a utterly weak opponent in the Bloodring is like whacking the fish on dry land: everyone knows you don't need skill in that."

___________


Finally that spineless lousy dimwit got going, Vermilion thought as he stared after Snivels, as the ferret hurried forwards in panic - and almost fell to the ground after stumbling into dark brown beast. Who Vermilion recognized immediately. Rasilisk the Hunter was always easy to spot among Vermilion's troops since there weren't many "goodbeast" in the Redglade tribe. The word made Vermilion scoff inwardly on the spot. A Goodbeast, bah! Don't make him laugh! Rasilisk was as bad as any vermin here, if not even nastier, and Vermilion liked that. And as long as his warriors followed the orders, he didn't give a damn what species they were. But that otter had truly proven himself as a true Redglade warrior again and again. He was a good exemplary what warlord wanted all his warriors be: fierce and strong. Determined and without fear. The otter's tribe had been out of its mind to let such an invaluable warrior to go! But then again their lost was his fortune as Rasilisk now served him. And after again seeing the otter in action in their latest battle the warlord had finally decided something he had played in his mind quite time now. Remembering that Vermilion almost called Rasilisk to him, but just in time decided otherwise. No, better leave it to the feast, the warlord thought self-content smile back on his face.

So the warlords eyes turned back to the Zagred like he hadn't even noticed the otter. 'The word that all Redglades lives or dies by', eh? He rather liked sound of that.
"Be on time" Vermilion said, giving the rats permission leave as he himself turned and continued his way. He was back in good mood again.
Shoulder sinking in defeat and dread Skinface followed the Zagred and no-one his pals envied poor rat's position .

__________

There was a small fire burning in center of a big tent and small streak of smoke rose from it, escaping out of that circular hole which was right above the fireplace. Except of small flames there wasn't any other light in dim tent but you could still outline a small figure sitting by the flame. He was Orbweaver, the tribes seer and healer. A old rat's fur was ash-gray, slowly turning here and there white, and it hanged on seer thin frame like a coat in too small hanger. Pair of blurry grey pools were just visible behind thick eyebrows, that grew on rat's forehead like two spiky bushes, almost covering the eyes completely out of sight. Rat's long, spiderlike fingers ended in black sharp claws.

Orbweaver was older than anyone in the tribe - maybe even ancient, as some said. The rat had been an old beast already when Vermilion's horde hand raided his tribe, leaving no one else alive except the seer - who had begged for his life and offered to serve the weasel lord until end of his days if he would be spared. No-one back then suspected such a feeble creature to last over next season but the rat had done it. And now he was highly valued in his lord's eyes after ten sun seasons from that day he had vowed his service to the warlord.

In the seers tent there were mattresses, carpets, trinkets... The spoils of being the warlords favorite. But there were also jars and herbs, bones and bowls. Dried eel skins, feathers and pears hanging on strings from the ceiling. Candles placed top of skulls of birds and collection of dagger, which were used in different kind of rituals. The seer's tent was crowned with different kind of things. Of course he had his apprentice would get a nice, roomy chamber in instant if Orbweaver ever asked for it, but old seer preferred the tent. He had lived all his life in the tent so old rat wasn't going to change his ways... He didn't like solid walls which imprisoned the air's movement. And he didn't like stone floor which muffled the sounds of the Earth. The tent was much better as the canvas breathed in the beat of the wind... But of course there was no wind inside of mountain, that would be true. But at least the tent was built on the white sand of the cave. It gave old rat some comfort.

Orbweaver sat by the fire, unmoving like in trance, staring at the flames through his half closed eyelids. He could hear it... Yes, he heard it clearly now... Something was in verge of happening... Something was closing in but he t couldn't pinpoint what. But this didn't meant he had grown old and was losing his gift of Sight. No, no... when the beast with the gift wholly devoted his live to listen the silent whispers of Fate and the soundless breathing of the Earth, he wouldn't only see visions of future... But could also see how that future become possible. This was it. This feeling surrounding him meant that Fate and Change were about cross each other's paths: everything was heading off to the turning point where the critical push would set things in motion... And what kind of fates it created depended utterly what kind of push it would be.
So what was it...? What was the catalysis which would create the next direction of Fate...?


# fernleaf, you can make up what kind ritual the Sending is. (: 'Coz I have noooo idea! >xD Also, feel free to join a company of Orbwear with your Zagred if you want ^^#

[coolcoyote]

The fox's ears twitch as he considers the mouses proposal. "You want me to pretend to be a push over is what you are telling me?" He laughs nervously and shyly looks away, "Yeah...it won't be easy with my natural foxy combat prowess, but I think I can pull that off."

In truth the fox won't have to act too hard. The captive vulpine managed to flail his claws at the guards when he got caught and...not much else. Still, the idea gives him a glimmer of hope, even if it means he is too much of a wimp to bother propperly executing. Swollowing his pride leaves such a bitter after taste in his mouth, but it's not the first time he has done it.

Besides, the mouse might beat himself up somemore if he refuses to go along with it...

"Ok, so I go to the feast, act like a complete loser, then what? I'm not sure I can just ask to be excused to use the little fox's room. And what happens if they actually put me up against someone to fight?" So many things can go wrong with this, but then again breaking out of jail isn't ment to be easy.

ooc Feel free to pose a time gap when you need too Cat. You can even spoof Baro beig carted away when the time comes XD Also, would wolf have found the wine he was sent for before, or during Stecks visit to Vermillion's lair?

[fernleaf]

Zagreb knew Orbweaver was a wary beast, and the tradition of the apprentice causing an accident for the master when her training was complete was time-honored. But how to do it without arousing suspicion of her? What if...she could have another, like this fool Skinface, be blamed for it? That would be perfect!

"We are going to Orbweaver's tent, dearie. I live with my master, and there, you will tell me the names of the deceased and I will write them down on the special parchment for the Sending." She turned around and fixed him with her gaze. The gaze that many dreaded, which penetrated to the very soul of those it fell upon. "And then, at the Feast, you shall be the very tool of Fate. You will know what to do, won't you, dearie? Accidents do happen, don't they?"

She turned again, and a few minutes later, approached her master's tent. Entering it, she beckoned Skinface to enter with her.

"Greetings, my master. This is Skinface. I have business with him, as the Lord Vermillion has commanded me to handle the Sending this one time. I must prepare, and he has the names." She sat down and took out the special parchment, looking over the different concoctions that would complete the Sending. Her master had taught her well, from the very moment that he chose her out of all the beasts of Redglades because of her potential. Part of the training had cost her the sight of one eye, but that had also given her Sight that was better than her two eyes had.

"Very well, Skinface, shall we proceed with the names of the ones that shall be Sent?"

She had a quill, dipped in the green ink that would write the names.

ooc: You don't have to give the actual names if you don't want to. When I do the Sending, I'm just going to mention she gave out the names as part of the ritual.

[Caterpillar]

# OOC: Coolcoyote, I think it's better if Wolf has found the wine already... If he's still out there looking for it when Vermilion sits in the table, heads start to roll - and Wolf's will be the first. xD And I don't want to see him killed off just yet! No worries there will be time for Wolf - or any character we choose - to catch escaped prisoners red-handed in place they should not be X)

I think soon there will be time gab forward.

Sounds good fernleaf (: #


Steck lifted his eyebrows at Fox's statement. For someone who had a 'natural combat prowess', Fox hadn't put up much of fight regardless how disadvantaged his situation had been back then. Usually those with good fighting spirit struggled even if it was hopeless and only after that yielded.... But mouse kept his mouth shut and instead used his voice answer Fox's next question
"They aren't going to fight whole night - Bloodring is only one of the entertainments. And they will want to leave plenty time for eating and drinking. If you can avoid being picked, with bit of luck you and maybe even few other warriors are spared for the next Bloodring"
That had happened before: the some of the matched had lasted longer than they normally did and
"However, if situation starts looking bad -- well, then I just need to give them something else to think about, do I?", Steck winked his eye, smiling mischievously like prankster who was ready to trigger a real hullabaloo. "A diversion that will get them forget the Bloodring for a moment - and you with it."

________

Orbweaver's trance was interrupted as the ten's doorway moved out of way. Old rat lifted his head, gazing at the doorway where Zagred, his apprentice, entered with someone.
"Did he now?", Orbweaver voice was soft and rasp like rustle of dry leaves. His gray eyes looked first at his student, then the soldier who was peering around him like expecting something jump on him from the shades of the dark tent. As if he had seen enough, Orbweaver closed his eyes. "Then you do what you have to with him. And then send him outside. There is something I wish to discuss with you..."

Following the seer's example Skinface sat down, looking around himself very nervously as he had never been inside seers' tent before. The scarred rat almost jumped to the ceiling when female seer again spoke to him. For all the souls in Dark Forest, the one-eyed hag was even more creepier than before!
"Y-yeh, ma'am! Lemme see... There was Scrambal, ol' Hooknouse, Nargg....", Scarface started in hurry. As soon as he got his task here done, he would be out of this tent in second! A wise beats never got messed up with seers...

[coolcoyote]

ooc ok, lol, there isn't much else for baro to add for the moment. Feel free to take your time with the seer scene. When you are ready for Baro just feel free to time gap him to where he would be during the feast ^^

in the mean time I shall provide NPC chatter Lol, maybe wolf and Rasilisk can chat with your bat outside Fernleaf ^^ I will let you describe the area of the feast when you are ready Cat
IC:

Wolf passes the seers tent a quick glance as he walks by. The fox is whistling a merry tune, his tail wagging happily behind him as he walks. Feasts were more than mere celibrations for the tribe. They were a nescesity.

No matter how vial, no matter how violent, no matter how cruel a beast may be, every beast needs a release from fighting. Too much combat started to effect a warriors health, and some times the injuries of the mind could be just as deadly as the injuries to their body.

Not to mention that they live in a cave. Despite his appearent avoidance of physical labor Wolf jumped for any chance that would take him outside to breath some fresh air, let alone from his desk. The fox laughed, who knew that a horde of warriors required so much paper work to run.

"What's this? Getting a drink even before the feast begins?" Wolf turns his head and smiles to Rasilisk who is leaning against a stalagmite with his arms crossed. "I swear Wolf, you are going to eat yourself to death one day." The otter pushes away from the rock and gestures to the fox, "Here, pass some of that my way."

The fox craddled the bottle of wine in his paws even more so and replied with a smirk, "If we take a sip out of this bottle Vermillion will cut it out of us to get it back. This here comes from Fearless Leader's personal stash of wine. It's 75 year old wine, taken from a castle we raided a long time ago. Wine so good that the duke of the castle was said to have died defending it, rather than his own family," The fat fox laughs, shaking his head, "He actually tripped down a flight stairs while fleeing from Vermillion but...history is writen by the victors as they say."

Rasilisk laughed, "Must be a special occasion then." The otter pauses then adds "Did Rose ever get back from that mission?"

The fox nods, "Yeah, Rose was here before you lot went off to war." Rasilisk replies by scratching his ear, "Really? Wow, I havn't seen her in over a week. What has she been up too?"

Wolf shrugs, "You know Rose, she doesn't like to mingle with us common beasts." He says with a laugh.

[fernleaf]

"Yes, master, I will be ready." said Zagreb. She concealed any intention she had. Now she listened to Skinface, and jotted down the names on the parchment with the special green ink for the Sending. She wondered what her master wanted to talk with her about.

Finally they were finished. "Very good, Skinface, and thank you." she said. "I will see you again at the Feast when I do the Sending. You may go."

She looked over at Orbweaver, wondering what he wanted to discuss with her.

[Caterpillar]

# rofl, Vermilion would INDEED cut their stomach open if they dared open it... keep away from the bottle, boys! xD
And now I'm interested of meeting Rose... Both of you stop tossing interesting characters in the scene! (lol, not really, please continue!) All this character-coolness... My heart can't take it... #


When Zagred had send Scarface away, Orbweaver reached for cane placed next to him: it was made of some creature's bone, honed and polished so carefully that it felt smooth like piece of glass under the palm. There was a big white orb placed as the cane's handle, the bone bended over it, keeping it fastened.

The old rat lifted the cane and placed it sideway over his knees. He looked his pupil moment in silent, like looking at something beyond her, before left out soft raspy sigh.
"Your talent is truly an extraordinary... Your inner Eye has a Sight I have never come across in my long live..."
The old rat's skinny fingers stroked fondly handle of his cane.
"Until now I have taught you how nurture it. How use it through the rituals and chants. I have shown you how read the writing of the bones and smoke and more. And you have done well by learning them all."

Orbweaver but his pawn in the pouch on his belt bringing out a fistful of white powder. The rat tossed it into the small fire which flared up instantly, creating thick puff of smoke that rose upwards. Flames crackled in green and yellow colors, making twisted shadows dance around two rats. An amber smoke rose from colored flames and filled the tent with a bitter smell.
"So I think you're ready start your final chapter of your training. For this night on it won't be anymore rituals nor chants... I'll share you the words of wisdom and whispers of final secrets that had passed down from master to apprentice through the generations. I hope you'll take in your heart and cherish them...", Orbweaver said as looking at how smoke floated in the air.

"I have already taught you there are two forces that control every beast's life. One of those force is inevitable, out of our ways to control it. But the other is always changing, which you can affect. We call them Fate and Chance - this you know as it's known by every seer of this land"
Orbweaver lifted his frail hand and swung it slowly through the smoke, making it whirl and twist.
"No-one can escape their Fate but how that Fate catches up each of us is always inconstant move", he continued. "It's in hands of Chance. While we seers gratefully accept the gifts and visions the Fate bestows upon us, we must always be cautious of the Chance. It is what always play its tricks on us. It makes our visions cryptic and blurry... What we may see from future might not happen because Chance has made loophole turn divination upside-down. And in rare occasions, given aright opportunity, Chance can change the very Fate itself..."

"So never ever take your vision self-evident as there is as many interpretations as there is many ways how sun makes different shadows out of same flower. Train constantly your inner eye see past the trickery and true meaning of the message Fate wants to show you... Now, some vision has been haunting you of lately, hasn't it?"
Orbweaver showed no sign how he did know, but he was a seer after all: it was his business to know things other didn't know and even things others didn't want anyone to know.

[coolcoyote]

Both Wolf and Rasilisk catch the flash of light from inside the tent, briefly highlighting the rats inside.

"What do you think is going on in there?" Rasilisk asks after a moment. The fox smirks then pats the otter on the shoulder, "A word of advice, don't involve yourself in the afair of dragons, for you are small, and taste good with gravey."

Rasilsik responds with a laugh, "You are a very odd fox, you know that Wolf?" Wolf raises a paw to correct him, "It's the wolf blood in me veins." The heavy set fox wags his tail happily as he continues oneward to the feast. The otter rolls his eyes and follows, but pauses after a moment thought.

"Hey wait...you, actually don't kow what otters taste like, right?" The otter calls out again when the fox does not answer, "/right?/"

ooc Ha! I toss interesting character at you again! And I based the character Wolf off of a simular npc on another game, a heavy set fox who was eventually turned into a fox hide coat by another villain >.>

Rose will either show up at the feast or prehaps later in the story XD Depends where she will fit the best I might also introduce another character at the feast. We need more actiony minions to harrass the heros

[fernleaf]

Zagreb listened to her master's teaching and nodded. She really admired him and his ability, and tried to imitate it at every turn. She looked up to him. And, she would miss him. She regretted what had to be done, but Fate and tradition could not be escaped. She held no ill feelings towards her master,and there was nothing personal about it. It was just following her destiny.

But he would live on in her heart.

The one-eyed seer nodded. "Yes, I see the wisdom of what you say, my master. As for the visions which have been troubling me, they keep recurring. It starts with a mouse, a mouse in armor and his expression is more fierce than any I have any seen. He had a sword, the glint of which hurts my eye. But behind him, on the horizon of a wilderness, a storm was approaching. As it approached, it gained power and ferocity. I could see the whirlwind, and it had a stripe to it, and red eyes which seemed to pierce me. It was destroying everything in its path, and it always ends with a deafening roar, in which I hear one word. Eulalia."

[Caterpillar]

# OOC: Sadly I didn't get a chance finish my post and now I'm off for road-trip. So you won't see me here during the whole weekend, but after that I'll be back. See you then! ^^ #

[fernleaf]

You have a great time in your road trip, and I'll see you when you get back.

[coolcoyote]

Lol sweet. Have a fun trip! Me and fern can find something to keep us occupied until you get back, either on thia thread or another.