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Post by Jared Sandeye on Oct 17, 2015 14:48:25 GMT -5
Eastern Sea, Forest of Maraul
“Hey! What do you furry lugnuts think you’re doing?!”
The harsh, commanding, and unforgiving voice of Garkul PoisonFang rang irritatingly in the ears of his vermin minions. Groaning both in pain and in pitiful surrender, they set down their second helpings of food and picked up their weapons. They stood at attention to their leader with their best apologetic expressions on their faces. One of them, a thin tan-furred rat, took charge as spokesbeast.
“Garkul, sir…well, you see...”
“Yes, Harkor?” Garkul got right in the rat’s face, almost nose to nose. Harkor could see the budding fire in his jade-green eyes, narrowing in both suspicion and disappointment. “What do you have to say for yourself? Not that I would care to listen, by the way, but just for you I’ll make a…special exception. Now speak up, you inferior piece of flesh!”
Harkor cleared his throat, but couldn’t bring himself to give his leader his full voice. “Garkul, sir,” he squeaked nervously. “We were still hungry, you see. We just wanted another helpin' of those grilled pheasants, because you know, plai' bird meat alone with nothing else just isn’t fillin' enough. Don' you agree, sir?”
Garkul’s dark eyes bored into Harkor’s soul, and the rat could feel himself shrinking as his leader towered menacingly over him. His namesake poison dripped from his fangs in small drops, staining Harkor’s thick leather tunic. Finally, Garkul responded.
“Did you really think you could get away with that so easily? This whole week, we’ve only caught three pheasants to use as food, and that’s not much of an accomplishment, right? No, you may not have any second helpings, and neither will the rest of you pathetic wretches. And do you know why? If you eat too much of that grilled bird, there won’t be any left for me! So, since I cannot risk you starving me to death…”
In an instant, Garkul had stuck his fangs into Harkor’s neck, injecting his poison into the minion’s bloodstream. Harkor felt his muscles and nerves seize up, and he fell to the ground in a crumpled frozen heap, paralyzed for the time being.
Without a second glance, Garkul stood up straight and glared at the rest of his band, who were all cowering in fear in their own way.
“Well, don’t just stand there! If you don’t want my fangs in your body – which I would gladly give to you regardless -, then pack up and be ready to march in formation behind me! Leave this two-timing twit behind, he’ll catch up eventually. Get the ships ready to sail, and set a course for Mossflower! Don’t make me it do myself, you lazy dogs! We move at sunset!”
“Sir!”
“I said…move!”
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Post by Margorr on Oct 21, 2015 23:12:53 GMT -5
As soon as Garkul's back was turned, Rebb spit on the ground and rolled his eyes. This guy kept barking orders at them and killing his own men. He was getting well and truly fed up with it. There was no place else the rat could go though. If he set out on his own, he might be able to do so without being pursued, but he didn't have all the skills to survive on his own.
Rebb shot a glance at Harkor as he walked past him towards the ship. He didn't feel bad for him at all.
"That's wot 'e gits fer talkin' back tae th' boss directly." He comments quietly to a ferret nearby, once he's certain Garkul is out of earshot. The ferret nods but doesn't say anything. Rebb just shrugs and starts loading supplies onto the ships. Might as well focus on work for now. It'll be good to get back sailing again, even if they were headed to Mossflower. Rebb hadn't been there since the last ship he served on sunk in that area. What a shame. He sometimes wondered if anyone else had survived that ordeal. He'd have to take a look once he got there.
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Post by Doggo on Oct 23, 2015 18:03:38 GMT -5
Scrawf softly whined in protest at having his meal interrupted. Food had been somewhat scarce recently, and at this rate his fur, still scraggly and salt speckled from years of scavenging on the coasts, would never grow sleek and healthy.
With a sigh of resignation, he sheathed his falchion and set about packing up his makeshift shelter and few possessions before anyone decided to steal from him. Once he had finished, he cautiously approached Garkul, dipping his head slightly in a show of respect.
"Sir, if I may be so bold, what exactly your plans are once we arrive in Mossflower? Never been there myself, have hardly even heard of the place! A lowly grunt such as myself must look to you for guidance, nay, enlightenment, if you be willing." With that, he hazarded a cheeky grin, and awaited Garkul's response.
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Post by Jared Sandeye on Oct 26, 2015 14:42:19 GMT -5
“Sir, if I may be so bold, what exactly are your plans once we arrive in Mossflower? Never been there myself, have hardly even heard of the place! A lowly grunt such as myself must look to you for guidance, nay, enlightenment, if you be willing.”
The apathetic uninterested glare returned to Garkul’s face, starting to burn with an irritated fire that wasn’t there when he had berated Harkor. He grabbed Scrawf by the collar of his armor, and pressed him by his back against a nearby tree.
“Scrawf, you blasted creature, sometimes I wonder if you just exist to get on my nerves. Whether I’m right or wrong, I don’t care. It’s none of your business as to what we do in Mossflower! But if you really must know, I’ll give you this one hint: we’re going hunting! Hunting whom? You’re smart enough, you figure it out!”
He finally dropped the fox and left him sitting against the tree. As one last rude gesture, the weasel kicked him in the shins, and walked away without a word. Hurrying across the bridge that connected the large forest with the main island, Garkul made his way to the shoreline, where he stood on the dry sand to supervise the preparation of his ships.
It’s a four-day voyage to Mossflower. The Eastern Seaboard is large, and not easy to navigate either. But I’ll make it. And maybe, just maybe…I can find information as to the whereabouts of my helpless unsuspecting prey…
Let the hunting begin.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 12, 2015 0:16:42 GMT -5
Rebb paused work to watch Garkul harass Scrawf. Typical. The rat left his duty to go check on Scrawf, he didn't deserve that sort of treatment for just asking a question. When he reached the fox, he offered him a paw to help him up.
"On ye paws now. Dinnae let 'im discourage ye. Ah've been tae Mossflower. 'Tis a grand auld place tae be sure. Land o' plenty 'tis. Besides, I doubt we'll find th' beast we're lookin' fer. Don't tell Garkul ah said so. What's yer name lad? Ah'm afraid ah'm not quite familiar with everybeast on this crew."
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Post by Doggo on Nov 12, 2015 1:09:39 GMT -5
Taking the offered paw, Scrawf heaved himself upright and dusted himself off, giving a shaky grin in gratitude.
"Hullbuster Scrawf is what I goes by, sir, though I guess that title's a bit of a mouthful, innit? Just Scrawf is fine with me. I'm a fox of the sea, through and through, have never been too far inland. If Mossflower's as nice as that, I couldn't care less what Garkul is having us do, if it mean having more vittles to eat! I've seen you around, err..Rebb, is that right? I always figured the beasts what been here longer would know something about whatever Garkul's plans are, but I guess everyone's pretty much in the dark. Are there any grand castles, or dangerous tribes or the like in Mossflower? Perhaps Garkul will have us doing some proper conquering for once!"
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Post by Jared Sandeye on Nov 16, 2015 14:49:41 GMT -5
Probably at the most inopportune moment in time, Garkul had crossed the bridge again and kicked both the vermin in the shins, knocking them down to the ground and giving them yet another death stare of sorts.
“Rebb! Scrawf! Lugnuts, what are you doing? I didn’t give you permission to slack off! Load the ships, and get moving! We sail at sunset! Move!”
Pathetic creatures, thinking to himself upon turning his back. I have no idea why they’re part of the crew at all. They can’t concentrate on anything for more than two minutes, sometimes less. HellGates forbid if they even know how to fight. And surviving a two-day voyage from here to Mossflower? Oh, to heck with it. I’ll get there by myself if I have to, with my own ship, and with my own body!
“Come on, you wretches! I told you before, I don’t want to do the work all by myself! At the first sign of darkness, we travel the Eastern Sea!”
Part of Garkul’s plan wasn’t to go straight to Mossflower. The part his crew didn’t know was that he wanted to “pay visits” to some of the Eastern Islands along the way, to get as much information as he can on his chosen prey: the Sandeyes, and everybeast related to them. Whether by threats, bribes, and/or everything in between, Garkul would find the info he wanted.
And nothing would stand in his way.
He turned around and saw Rebb and Scrawf standing up again despite the pain in their legs, and breathed a sigh of great impatient relief. About time.
“Done socializing? Done with your pathetic party of two, your private gossip and mingling? Done with your potential lovemaking? Good! Now prepare your useless bodies for sail! Hurry, or both of you get the fangs!”
It was some time before all the ships were finally ready. Sitting out on the Eastern Sea, stocked full with on-the-go supplies and offensive artillery, Garkul couldn’t help but smirk to himself at how quick his crew were to follow his orders. Thank HellGates he didn’t have to do all the stupid stuff himself. He shot an authoritative glance at a brown-furred rat on the crew’s nest, who sent out a loud screeching whistle to the other ship to pull out of the island. Within more or less 15 minutes, Garkul PoisonFang’s crew had left Maraul behind, and entered the Eastern Seaboard.
Garkul stood on the edge of the ship, just behind the ship’s wheel, keeping his paws carefully on it and watching the sails in his peripheral vision.
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dara
Dibbun
Posts: 11 
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Post by dara on Nov 16, 2015 17:05:05 GMT -5
The sea..
Well, that was the least all they could see while the island shrank in the distance and the ship carried on its route. The sea was calm for now and it wasn't in their best interest to see what it was like while having a rampaging storm, so a small thought to go out that they would have a somewhat..safe journey.
Silt stood on the aft of the ship, one of their paws securely wrapped about one of the ropes as their nose scented the salty air. Gulls were crying as they flew nearby the ship, hopefully to give them safe journey, or guide them. Birds were really only good for eating, but the dark furred creature had a nagging feeling that they might be useful for something else..more investigation was needed.
A quick check of their pouch told them their supply was low and Silt made a mental note to refill once they were in where ever they were going. They had heard it was someplace called Mossflower and had a fleeting thought to what it was like, but that thought was quashed upon looking backwards and focusing on the one who was at the wheel. That was the one who had paralyzed their own..no, not companion; this one didn't seem to have any thought to who was friend or foe and seemed to do their own thing to their own best interest.
It was curious, but that question would have to wait until later. Silt had no interest in talking to someone who had such a mess mouth..but it seemed they were in charge so with a sigh, began to make their way towards the ships wheel where Garkul was standing.
No one seemed to notice them as they made their way forwards and that was how they liked it. Though raised shoulders, a few bowed heads and growls as well as mumbles amongst the crew made it known to the sable that not everyone was happy. Who would be, with such a strange action to take against one who spoke against the..whatever he was.
Making sure the dark material was tied securely around their neck to cover the yellow patch of fur that wove their way down to the nape of their neck, Silt stood beside the white weasel as if awaiting orders, letting out a very soft "sir".
It seemed the best word for someone in this..position. Though they never remembered names, the sable had the feeling that the white one would prefer not to be called something that commented on their appearance.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 17, 2015 0:46:45 GMT -5
Rebb was thoroughly pissed when Garkul came back to harass him and Scrawf again. He hadn't even had a chance to answer the otherbeasts questions. As soon as the weasel had walked away, Rebb turned back to Scrawf.
"Ah'm no' happy wi' the way the cap'n's been treatin' us lately. Best stir ourselves. Ah'll no' be harassed again t'day. Y' can come wi' me if'n ye'd like, Scrawf. Perhaps we'll do some proper plunderin' when we get tae Mossflower, ah've been there but once, for a brief time, sae ah'm no' sure what it's like for sure. Let's get aboard before th' Cap'n beats us again."
Compared to dealing with Garkul, Argrav had been a walk in the park. His old Captain never beat him for socializing. Sure he got yelled at sometimes, but never beaten. He made his way onto the main ship with Garkul, and went back to preparations to set sail.
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Post by Doggo on Nov 20, 2015 22:14:37 GMT -5
Now that they were at sea, Scrawf allowed himself to relax. The scent of the sea and the sound of the waves were familiar to him, reminding him of the years he had spent living on the coast. Opting to stay a safe distance from Garkul, lest his shins get any more bruised, the fox made his way into the midst of a larger group of vermin, to appear less conspicuous.
Although he loved being around the sea, Scrawf was restless by nature, and the very idea of going to an unfamiliar land such as Mossflower filled him with excitement. Perhaps he would really make a name for himself out there. He had hoped that joining Garkul's group would give him the chance to fight and conquer, but so far he hadn't so much as fought a single woodlander. Which was too bad, really, because he really wanted to test the cutting power of his recently acquired blade on something other than driftwood. Maybe he should give himself a new, more intimidating title or something, for when he eventually becomes a great warlord.
For now though, he would occupy himself with polishing his blade, and keeping out of sight.
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Post by Jared Sandeye on Jan 7, 2016 16:24:43 GMT -5
Garkul surveyed the sea around him as he methodically controlled the ship's wheel. Behind him, the other one ship in his fleet followed at a steady but adventurous pace. Garkul smiled pridefully to himself. At least they're keeping up. So maybe they do all have some brains. At least, I hope all of them have brains. But, what the heck. Not my concern, and quite frankly, I don't even care.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Silt coming up behind him, giving out a soft but acknowledging "sir". The smirk on Garkul's lips lessened a bit, and he turned around and stared blankly at Silt, raising an eyebrow slightly as if encouraging him to speak.
"Well? Did you want something? Not that it's of any interest to me. But if you must know, at this pace, we should arrive at Tutha by the early morning, if not by dawn. Why don't you go find something more productive to do instead of standing around here? There's just something about your presence that sets me off. Go, get your sable rear end out of my sight, if that was your intention with me."
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Post by Margorr on Feb 16, 2016 19:49:03 GMT -5
"But if you must know, at this pace, we should arrive at Tutha by the early morning, if not by dawn. Why don't you go find something more productive to do instead of standing around here? There's just something about your presence that sets me off. Go, get your sable rear end out of my sight, if that was your intention with me."
The tone of Garkul's voice grated on Rebb's nerves. Nobeast should talk to anyone like that. Slit hadn't even said anything, and the Captain had dismissed them. That was enough. Throwing down the rope that was in his paws, Rebb approached Garkul.
"Wot's th' big idea? Ye cannae go around talkin' tae yer crew like that? Ye di' no' even give the poor beast a chance tae speak tae yer before dismissin' 'im. Ah don't care if yer th' cap'n, ain't right. Ah've had enough o' yer bullyin'." Rebb said, drawing his sword. "We're goin' tae fight, winner gets tae be cap'n. An' tae make it fair, no usin' yer fangs. "
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Post by Doggo on Feb 18, 2016 1:19:03 GMT -5
Scrawf had watched the brief "exchange" between Silt and Garkul, standing among some other vermin to keep inconspicuous. With the quiet rocking of the boat, he was starting to nod off, but what happened next caught his attention again.
Seeing Rebb suddenly challenge Garkul to a fight, the fox subconsciously backed further away. He was afraid for Rebb, who had been one of the few beasts who was ever kind to him. He had never seen Garkul in a straight up fight before, but he seemed pretty dangerous, even without his poison. Rebb was a rather seasoned fighter though, and seemed like he could hold his own in a duel. At any rate, Scrawf had no desire to try to stop the fight. He felt the same as Rebb, and wanted no more to do with whatever wild goose chase Garkul was putting them through. If by some chance he won, then they could go off and pillage Mossflower as they pleased.
Still, there was no telling what other tricks Garkul might have up his sleeve. As a newcomer to the group, Scrawf wasn't sure if any of the other vermin were loyal enough to Garkul that they might aid him during the fight. If that happened, Scrawf decided he would be ready to support Rebb. Scrawf was nervous about the prospect of fighting, now that it was actually happening, but this fear was a hurdle he'd have to overcome eventually. Clenching his fists, and taking a deep breath, Scrawf edged closer to the pair, his eyes alert, his paw on the hilt of his blade, and his heart racing.
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dara
Dibbun
Posts: 11
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Post by dara on Feb 20, 2016 22:48:00 GMT -5
Ever so slowly, the edges of the dark furred creatures eyes crinkled a small bit as if they were amused. That was the most satisfied they had been in a while, to hear the word "him" even if voiced by such a harsh mouth.
Their paws fidgeted with each other at the mention of the 'right' mention of their gender as they stared first at the white furred weasel to then let their maple coloured eyes traveled over towards the one who had a hoop in their ear. Animosity poured from the latter while the messy mouthed one seemed..smug? They had no qualms with the 'boss' or whatever this one called themselves and were more interested in what their goals were.
Mossflower woods seemed interesting at least and they wouldn't have minded that but for some reason, they had a strange feeling that..well, that's where they weren't headed, at least right off the bat.
With the situation at hand though, it looked like two were going to fight over something very silly. Silt wondered if they should step in or not; it didn't seem worth it and upon closer inspection, the scraggly one off to the side's body language seemed to wanting to support the..lesser evil.
So they decided to step back, even if it was just a small bit and watch the kerfuffle, for it was amusing. They were no herbalist but from their knowledge, they could at least see what the effects of the messy mouth was. Just the thought made their eyes gleam, though the effect was softened by looking around at how this would unfold..how curious..
How exciting!
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Post by Jared Sandeye on Feb 24, 2016 17:55:06 GMT -5
Garkul’s harsh eyes met Rebb’s equally angry ones. The white-furred weasel kept one paw on the wheel while drawing his blade with the other, turning around to face his enemy.
“So, it is to be war between us, eh? Dag nabbit! If you say I can’t use my fangs, then I won’t!” He quickly snapped two claws together to a black rat standing down below on the main deck. “You, Burnnik! Take the wheel while I deal with these scoundrels!” The rat wasted no time in obeying.
Garkul spat bitterly in Rebb’s face, then jumped off the helm platform onto the main deck. The rest of the crew backed away to make plenty of space for the two combatants. Meanwhile, the other ship had sailed past them for half a mile, not even caring about what was going on.
The weasel put a paw to his mouth and called out to Rebb. He was already drawing his sword, twirling it over and over again in his paw, showing off. “Oi! Go to Hell, you mutinous wretch! En garde! Look on the bright side: at this rate, if this good weather holds up, we’ll hopefully be out of the Eastern Seaboard by sunset!”
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bye!
