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Post by Taurian on Nov 14, 2015 8:13:23 GMT -5
{Under construction for now, hopefully will be done sometime today or tomorrow!}
Molan jolted awake from a vivid nightmare. They swore softly at themself for falling asleep. The badger had stayed awake for several days, waiting for the patrol they had sent out to return. It had been a routine scouting mission, nothing that would have lasted more than a day, so it was worrisome when there was no word by the next nightfall. The nightmare was a common one, a burning ship, with Ilira and Ronwal aboard, captured by the fox-creature and his crew. They had passed out from the smoke, and the ship was sinking, and taking them with her. And the fox-thing kept cackling and pointing at Molan.
"M'lord?" A young haremaid, Afra Deerfoot, padded up behind Molan. She shot the badger Lord a worried look. "Yah alright there, sah?"
"I'm fine, Afra. Thankee. What news d'ye bring?"
"The General's patrol, sah. They're back... mostly," Afra muttered the last word under her breath, knowing that the news of the dead would devastate Molan. She settled herself at the badger's elbow, and began to help them down the stairs from the forge room, where they spent most of their time.
"That's good. And the old patrol, they're with Lavenderfur?" Molan asked. Afra cringed. She hoped that Lord Lasair wouldn't ask such a question.
"Best yah leave them to the talkin', sah." Afra made a lame excuse.
"Aye, t'would be better tae leave the talkin' tae the patrol," Molan agreed. Afra sighed in relief.
"I can take it from 'ere, thankee." Molan nodded to Afra when they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Go 'n get yersel' a pasty from the kitchen. Tell the cook I sent ye."
"Right, sah! Thankee kindly sah!" Molan smiled at the retreating haremaid before turning and walking towards the main hall.
They were apprehensive about meeting the patrol. When the first one went missing, their mind went back to the Phoenixclaw, and they were close to panic. The hares of the mountain helped calm them down, and their mind cleared enough to send out another patrol the next day. When that patrol had stayed out for longer than Molan thought necessary, they had begun to keep silent vigil at the forge window. They could not sleep; sleep brought only horrible visions of the burning ship. Molan clasped the railing they had installed throughout the mountain for support as they neared the doorway. With a grunt, they pulled themself into the room, and felt their heart crack at the scene before them.
Lavenderfur was there, with a few of the experienced hares of the second patrol. Only one of the first patrol was there, a very young hare, one of the newest recruits. And all were in tatters. Lavenderfur himself sustained incredible injuries. Molan was about to call for a healer when Toan Oakscut, the healer's assistant, informed them that Lavenderfur and the others were already being taken care of.
Trying to shake off their fear and heartache, Molan approached Lavenderfur to hear the report.
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Nov 14, 2015 20:53:43 GMT -5
[Disclaimer: Some parts of this reply are slightly graphic and may be unsettling.]
Devastation.
That was the only thing on General Lavenderfur's mind. Over and over.
Devastation. Failure. Failure. Failure.
When it was made quite plain that a scouting patrol had gone off-course, the General didn't think to worry much. Really, what could've gone wrong? Perhaps they got a little sidetracked, and were running behind. Perhaps they wanted to take a more scenic route home. Perhaps they found something interesting to track. His first thoughts never jumped to the worst - never. He didn't want to think about it, as childish as it was.
The General wasn't a fool, however. To be a hare of the Long Patrol was to be a cheerfully patient corpse. It was your duty to lay your life on the line for your people, for the Badger Lord, for the innocent. Death was everywhere - even in times of peace, accidents happened, hares went missing on patrols and simply never came back. Never came back. Never came -
When Lord Lasair had given the order, General Lavenderfur had eagerly volunteered to lead a group of hares to find their lost comrades. Lost comrades. Lost -
They had left the mountain with haste, of course. The General had hand-selected them, some of the finest scouts and soldiers the mountain had to offer. Despite his previous hopes that only a small thing had gone wrong, the General was growing more and more grim. As nice as the patrols could be, as caught-up in the fun atmosphere of travelling and camping as a hare could get, they had orders. It was unlike them all to disregard that for something other than finding a problem. An enemy. And it didn't take long before the General's group found the previous patrol's tracks, going slightly off course, as though they might have noticed something odd. Something odd. Odd.
Then the ambush happened.
It was all so fast. So fast. So fast.
Reeling back to the present, the General trembled, the pain in his wounds coming roaring back to life like the flames buried in the belly of Salamandastron. One hand was covering an eye in a death-grip, blood and other disgusting bodily fluids seeping from behind his fingers. The eye had been gouged, and it wouldn't be able to heal - they'd have to remove it entirely. He denied the healers offering to help him, insisting they tend to the others first, although the sting of his cuts were driving him mad, he'd claw them out of his skin, he'd claw them out -
"My Lord," he said, kneeling before Lord Lasair, one of his ears hanging down, ripped to shreds, the blood dried and caked in the crevices. He refused to move the hand covering his eye.
"I'm afraid to report, sah... That the first patrol... Save for the private, there... Has been entirely destroyed. I'm also afraid to report, sah, we lost three of my chosen patrol."
Flinching at a phantom pain, the General stood again, setting his jaw, nose sniffing the air rapidly, whiskers twitching about. The whiskers on the half of his face that had lost the eye had been sliced off. His good eye was wide, staring straight ahead but not seeing, unblinking. So many memories. Death surrounding him. His child. Oh, child. Children. Rifflerun. He'd kill him. He'd kill him.
"It would appear... There are vermin... Vermin, who I can only assume have come from the coast... And while the battle happened quite suddenly, and we retreated as quickly as possible, I feel I can confirm that the vermin... are headed into Mossflower Country. I do not believe they murdered our troops out of anything other than... a simple desire to kill, and excercise power... We have no reason to believe they know of Salamandastron, and if they do, it's evident they're currently not interested in attacking us, specifically..."
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Post by Margorr on Nov 14, 2015 22:29:58 GMT -5
"The General is back!!" Some young Private had announced urgently to the mess hall. Major Boggsorly Rifflerun had just sat down to his breakfast, but quickly abandoned it when it was announced that General Lavenderfur had returned. Everybeast had heard of the missing Patrol, and the General had been sent out to find them. Boggs' daughter, Lucerne, had been selected to go out with them as well, a fact he was rather proud of. The Riffleruns had been a part of the Long Patrol for generations, so Boggs was rather proud when his daughter was selected for the recovery Patrol.
However, the tone that the young Private had used concerned him some. Forgetting breakfast, he followed the other curious hares out to where what remained of the Generals patrol was now present, speaking to the Badger Lord. They were in rough shape, many of them already being attended to by medical staff.
"there... Has been entirely destroyed. I'm also afraid to report, sah, we lost three of my chosen patrol."
Those were the first and only words Boggs heard from General Lavenderfur. He immedately began scanning the remaining hares for his daughter. No Lucerne. He looked over everyone again. No Lucerne.
Lost three of my chosen patrol.
Trembling and with paws clenched into fists, Boggs pushed his way through the onlooking hares to the front. He wouldn't dare interrupt the General, especially not in front of the Badger Lord. He really wanted to knock the Generals lights out. How DARE he lose his daughter, and just leave her out there. He just left her out there.
He'd want a word with the General for sure.
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Post by Taurian on Nov 15, 2015 9:58:47 GMT -5
"Get tae the infirmary at once, General. An' let them take care o' ye," Molan ordered, barely keeping their voice from shaking. The general's words set their mind on fire.
"I'm afraid to report, sah... That the first patrol... Save for the private, there... Has been entirely destroyed. I'm also afraid to report, sah, we lost three of my chosen patrol."
Molan quaked slightly, their knees becoming unsteady. They gripped the railing again for support. Another young hare came to stand beside them, helping the badger support their weight.
"Rifflerun, ye are not tae go after the general now," the badger said quietly. They knew Rifflerun's daughter was one of Lavenderfur's patrol, and they had not seen her among those returned. "I know ye want tae speak tae 'im, but he's 'alf torn tae pieces as it is. Let him rest, and i'the meantime, stay ye here an' 'elp me with the next steps.
"Now," Molan turned to address the crowd of hares. "All ye o' the general's patrol, straight tae the infirmary. Private Clovershoe, please come here. And Toan, please help the private while I speak to him."
Asera Clovershoe stepped forward, and collapsed into Toan's arms. Another hare fetched a stool, and Asera sank into it, trembling.
Molan lent down, and gently placed a paw on Asera's shoulder. "Now, if'n ye cannae speak o' it at present, that's understandable, but if ye could, I'd like ye tae tell me 'n' Major Rifflerun what 'appened tae ye."
----
"It was 'orrible, sah. 'orrible 'orrible 'orrible." Rilen Alderbough, Asera's dear friend, joined the small group, and held the other hare's hand for moral support. "They came from the sea, sah. More 'n' twoscore o' them on a big ole boat. There was a wildcat there, no, two cats, laughing as their crew tore us to shreds. They killed them all, sah! They killed Urscar and Tiol and Winyr and..."
"Sah?" Toan interrupted Asera, noticing Molan's horrified look.
As Asera began to list the names, the badger had zoned out, back to the Eastern Estuary, back to when Sral Waterlion had called out the names of the slain. Toan's voice brought them back to the present. Shaking their striped head, Molan looked up into the worried faces of the hares. "I'm fine, everyone. Just a passing memory. Pardon me, Asera. Do continue."
"There was no ultimatum given, sah, no captives taken of our lot. I was running, and ran into the general's patrol. Wot the general said is true. They killed us 'cause they could, not to strike at the mountain."
"Can ye remember anythin' about the wildcats, Asera? Any identifying features?"
"One 'ad silver fur, an' a hook where his," Asera paused, face scruched up inconcentration, "left hand should be. And the other was a brown-furred wildcat, with a fancy red kilt. I dunno if that helps, sah."
"That's most 'elpful, Asera. Thankee," the badger paused, fighting off the quake that threatened to leak into thier next words, "and I know 'ow ye feel, being the only survivor. If'n ye needs tae talk, just knock on the forge door 'n' tell me that it's yer."
The badger straightened up, and dismissed Asera and the others. "Boggs, a word, if ye dinnae mind."
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Nov 15, 2015 14:01:17 GMT -5
The General, not wanting to disobey Lord Lasair's orders, nodded his head solemnly, letting the healers guide him to the infirmary. Not wanting to appear weak, he held his head high, though he kept his gouged eye covered, walking without any hint of a limp and a strongly set jaw. As much as his mind wanted to force him to dwell on the ambush, on losing 3 fine hares on his watch and being unable to save the first patrol, he had to think about the present. The hares in the mountain would likely be shocked - they've lost roughly 9 or 10 of their close comrades, their family, their loved ones. In this time of great grief, he had to show he wasn't going to lie down and die and let those monsters get away with what they've done.
He'd find them, and he'd kill them. He'd be ready, and he'd kill them all.
He'd come with every hare he could find. He'd be armed to the teeth. He'd ambush them, see how they liked it. He'd slit their throats while they slept, he'd wake them up and make them watch their comrades be gutted and decapitated and destroyed in every wonderful way possible -
Inhaling sharply through his nose as he was eased down onto a bed in the infirmary, he tentatively lifted the paw from his eye so the healers could get to work. The pain seared through his skull, and he groaned as they got to work, removing the ruined eye as swiftly as they could. If it got infected, it would be hell. Claws digging into the sheets, Ridgewell grit his teeth, hissing and grunting, agony tearing through him at every poke and prod. Damn if he wasn't kicking himself for letting this nonsense happen. The worst part was that he wasn't even sure if it was one vermin that had done this to him, or multiple, or what they looked like.
After all his wounds were tending to, and his eye was thoroughly bandaged, the healers left Ridgewell alone, and he lie there, staring up at the ceiling.
---------------------------------
The news of the General returning had caught Dianthus by surprise, and like most of the other hares, he dropped his breakfast to rush out and see the commotion. He knew his friend (or were they acquaintances? Dianthus wasn't sure where he stood with the younger hares, sometimes) Lucerne had been chosen by the General to accompany him. It had made him feel a little inadequate - he and Lucerne were about the same age, yet she was held in a much higher regard, and apparently far more talented than him. But what could he expect? Her father was a Major and skilled in ways Dianthus knew he could never be, so it would be only normal for her to take after him. Above all, he had been really proud of her that she got chosen. She deserved it.
So when he didn't see her, his excitement at the thought of being able to pester her about the great adventure died immediately.
Biting his lip, he looked at Major Rifflerun for a moment, then at the General, then at Lord Lasair, then he started looking around for Frederick. Maybe... Maybe Lucerne was in the infirmary already. Maybe she was fine. Maybe she and Frederick were already chatting somewhere.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 15, 2015 15:04:53 GMT -5
As much as Boggs wanted to have some words with General Lavenderfur, he could not disobey an order from Lord Lasair. While the remaining Patrol was ushered off towards the Infirmary, Major Rifflerun stayed behind, and made his way to where Lord Lasair was listening to the surviving Private's tale.
"They killed us 'cause they could, not to strike at the mountain."
Vermin were like that, Boggs had come to find. But, vermin were also ultimately cowards, for the most part. These vermin probably killed these patrols because they knew they had them outnumbered. He only hoped that their hares, his daughter, had taken more than a few of the bastards with them. He was pulled from his thoughts when Lord Lasair asked for a word with him. Without even waiting to hear what the Badger Lord wanted, Boggs launched into sharing his own thoughts.
"Tis cowardly, what those vermin did, sah. I'll skin 'em all alive if I ever get m'paws on 'em. The trouble is they had boats, but sah, we haven't seen any boats come by, which means the blighters are now on paw, for whatever reason. If they haven't come by here, they must be skirting the mountain. That only leaves them goin' east or south, since we would have seen a ship goin' north. Can't send a patrol out after them, they'll kill 'em if they catch 'em. We need to mobilize, especially if they're headed south. I trust th' Private's tale, but more n' twoscore could mean a lot. We don't want that many vermin potentially goin' to Mossflower, Sah."
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Post by Taurian on Nov 15, 2015 15:52:14 GMT -5
Molan nodded gravely. Vermin in Mossflower put Redwall Abbey at risk, and although they personally had never been, all the hares had told them many times about the great paragon of peace and kindness in Mossflower country.
"I'd like ye tae organize around a third of our troops, and prepare tae march tae Redwall. We dinnae want tae leave the abbey undefended. I will lead another portion of troops tae follow the vermin. We willnae strike directly, but use lightning strikes, send in spies, etc. Lavenderfur an' the rest will stay here. I'll leave it tae 'im tae find the abandoned ships. An' maybe send a runner tae the Maelstrom. Unlikely that they'll go there, but I'd like the badger there tae be aware."
Molan's claws dug into the wooden railing. They turned to climb back up the stairs to the forge room. "And Boggs, dinnae take yer anger out on the general. 'e acted under orders. None o' us knew what had kept the recruits. If'n I'd had known, I'd 'ave-- I'd 'ave made sure only the senior warriors went." Ilira's ghost had said that to Molan many, many times. She placed most of the blame on herself, even now, despite Molan insisting that it was all their fault. But this mess, the dead recruits, was most certainly Molan's fault. "I--I'll be i'the forge room, if'n any o' ye be needin' me," they managed, their voice tight with guilt, as they mounted the stairs with some difficulty, waving off the hares who stepped in to help them.
{I don't really expect Lavenderfur to agree to this at all, but it's not a full plan. Molan's too careful now to make final decisions without conversing with their officers.}
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Post by Thrush on Nov 15, 2015 16:16:47 GMT -5
Frederick's mind raced as he headed through the halls of Salamandastron, following a fair few other hares. The second patrol was back... What had happened? Was the first patrol all right? Perhaps they'd just veered a bit off-course or tracked something. Frederick had tried not to worry--after all, those sorts of things did happen--but he had to admit, he'd grown a bit anxious as time went by and there had been no sign of them. Then General Lavenderfur himself had picked the second patrol to go after them... Including Lucerne. He'd been so happy for her, not to mention rather proud. It was a huge honor, after all. And Lucerne certainly deserved it.
There was quite a crowd there by the time Frederick reached the scene. ...His heart sank as he caught sight of the second patrol. And... And there was no sign of the first. Many of them were in rough shape, to say the least. He tightened his grip on the strap of his medicinal bag and instinctively moved forward, beginning to tend to the wounded. General Lavenderfur's injuries were severe--one of his ears had been all but shredded, and the General was covering an eye--but he insisted that the other members of the patrol be tended to first. Frederick took a steadying breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth, trying to push away the questions, the fear, that clouded his mind. He had to stay calm. He moved among the wounded, applying poultices, bandaging wounds, and trying to help however he could. The lanky young hare scanned the patrol, searching for one face in particular. But... There was no sign of Lucerne. His heart sank still further.
"I'm afraid to report, sah... That the first patrol... Save for the private, there... Has been entirely destroyed. I'm also afraid to report, sah, we lost three of my chosen patrol."
No. This... The first patrol... His friends... Lucerne... They were... This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. How could this have happened? They didn't deserve--hadn't deserved--this. And those left behind... The Major. Oh, great seasons, the Major... And Dianthus... How he wanted to believe this was all a dream. How he wished that he could wake up. But this was not a dream, he realized, as the General's words slowly sank in. The Badger Lord's voice--ordering the General's patrol up to the infirmary--jolted Frederick back to reality. Moving automatically, he followed the healers back to the infirmary, helping along a wounded older hare.
Frederick helped the older gent to sit on one of the infirmary's beds and got to work, cleaning his wounds--one of the most notable was a long gash along his face. He tried to focus on his work, running the herbs through his mind as he mixed and applied a poultice, mentally repeating them until they became a litany. He couldn't give into his grief... Not here. Not now. Not in front of the members of the patrol. Once the older fellow had been taken care of, Frederick moved to the next hare.
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Nov 15, 2015 23:37:43 GMT -5
Dianthus had seen Frederick go to the infirmary, to help tend to the wounded, and decided to give him a little time to do his job before bothering him. Dianthus didn't have a lot of friends in Salamandastron, being one of the few hares to come from a home outside the mountain, and so when Frederick and Lucerne had extended their kindness to him, he had felt... apprehensive, but grateful. He yearned, more than anything, to have friends - people that truly cared about him, that liked him for who he was. But the thought of losing one, especially after what had happened to him on his journey to Salamandastron, all those seasons ago...
Biting his lip, he couldn't wait any longer, and he worked his way through the crowd, trotting to the infirmary with purpose. It was quieter, there, and he took a moment to stare at the General's sorry state before silently approaching his only remaining friend.
"Frederick," he said softly, standing back, not wanting to interrupt his work, "Frederick, I think... Did you... You didn't s-see Lucerne back there, did you, chap? B-Because, I didn't, and she's not in here, and... What the General said..."
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Post by Thrush on Nov 16, 2015 0:19:54 GMT -5
Frederick cleaned wounds, mixed and applied poultices and salves, and carefully patched up his wounded comrades. He bent his mind to the task, focused intently upon his duty. If he didn't, if he allowed himself to think of... No. Not now. Not here. It wasn't the time or place. He couldn't allow his thoughts to dwell on it--no, on <i>them/i>, on <i>her</i>--when there was work to be done. He had to look to the living. Had to try and help those left behind. There would be time enough to grieve. But later. Now, he needed to stay calm, stay steady... Hard as it was.
He took a steadying breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth, again and again. The lanky hare spoke softly to the wounded, trying to reassure them that their injuries would soon heal. But despite his sincere efforts, the words sounded like cold comfort, even to him. Some wounds couldn't be healed with poultices or salves... So he worked as best he could, fighting to stay steady.
Just after he finished treating another patient, he heard a soft, all-too-familiar voice. Dianthus... Frederick hadn't even heard his friend coming. His ears pricked up as the other hare spoke, and Frederick's heart sank like a stone. There was suddenly a lump in his throat.
"Frederick, I think... Did you... You didn't s-see Lucerne back there, did you, chap? B-Because, I didn't, and she's not in here, and... What the General said..."
What could he say? What could possibly be said?
Frederick put a paw on Dianthus' shoulder, trying to comfort his friend as much as himself.
"Dianthus, old chap..." he said, as gently as he could. Try as he might, his voice faltered. He averted his eyes for a moment, fought to regain his composure. Not here, not now... He had to be steady. "I... I'm sorry. I..." He couldn't quite bring himself to say it. He didn't want to say it, didn't want to believe it.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 16, 2015 1:09:30 GMT -5
Boggs saluted Lord Lasair after receiving the order to mobilize a third of their troops. He tensed up when Lasair asked him not to take out his anger on the General. He knew they were right though, it would do him no good, and wouldn't fix anything. As soon as Lasair had ascended back up to their forge, Major Rifflerun set about barking orders. He went about, hand picking which hares he wanted to take to Redwall. He knew to leave some of the more experienced hares with Lord Lasair, knowing full and well those following the vermin directly would have a more dangerous mission.
He gave his selected hares an hour to prepare to move out. They'd have to be quick if they were going to make it to Redwall before any vermin did. Luckily, the Major knew the quickest route to the Abbey, having been there a few times in his youth and on Patrol. With any luck, the vermin would have gone the long way. He had one hour to take care of anything he needed to before leaving. The first thing he had to do was go talk to his wife.
Gently slipping into his dorm, Boggs found his wife, Holly, still asleep. She'd had a late night last night, helping out in the kitchens. He sat next to her on the bed, and gently shook her awake.
"G'morning, my love." She said, sitting up and giving Boggs a kiss on the cheek. She put her arms around him and nuzzled his neck. Boggs put his arms around her as well, and kissed the top of her head, wondering how he was going to tell her about Lucerne. Noting how tense he was, Holly sat back and looked him in the eyes.
"What's the matter? You're tenser than usual."
Boggs sighed. There was no more putting it off. He wanted to get this over with quickly, he hated seeing Holly sad.
"M'dear, the General's returned from his Patrol. Th' first patrols is dead, save for one. General Lavenderfur's patrol didn't show up in great shape either." He paused, and after taking a deep breath continued, but could already see from the tears forming in his wife's eyes, she knew where this was going. "I'm afraid Lucerne didn't make it back with them. They were ambushed y'see. I'm sure they did the best they could, but-"
He stopped talking when Holly burst into tears, She held him tightly, sobbing into his chest. He held her to him, and lightly rubbed her back, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. "I know, m'dear. I know."
He sat with her a few minutes more, before breaking the news about the Vermin, and how he had to go to Redwall Abbey. This caused her to start crying some more, but he assured her he'd be back as soon as the vermin were no longer a threat, and that she should keep herself busy while he was away.
--------------------------------
Straightening his uniform, Boggs left his dorm and went about the last thing he had to do, which was get medical staff to accompany him to Redwall. Upon reaching the Infirmary, he stopped to survey the scene. Medical staff was busy treating the Generals patrol, and he could see the General himself off to the side. Ignoring him for now, Boggs looked for the medical staff he wanted.
He spotted Frederick Willoughby talking with another young hare, Dianthus, he believed. The Willoughby's were a respected Long Patrol family, and he knew Frederick was good at his job. He also knew that these two hares had been friends of Lucerne's, she spoke highly of the both of them. Squaring up, he made his way over to them.
"Willoughby and Dancepaw! You two are to accompany me t' Redwall Abbey. Get your affairs in order, and meet the Company outside the mountain in thirty minutes. Willoughby, pick another healer to bring with you."
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Nov 16, 2015 1:31:02 GMT -5
The paw on his shoulder helped, and Dianthus shuddered in disbelief, that this was real, that this had really happened...
He hated to be so unprofessional, considering how well some of the other hares were handling the news, baring their teeth and setting their jaws, but it had been so long, just so long, since he had suffered a loss like this... To lose your best and only friend as nothing more than a child was scarring, and it shaped Dianthus' entire life for the worse. Now, older, more hardened to the world, something like this shouldn't be eating away at his heart so intensely, should it? Had he not grown stronger at all, since his training began? Had becoming a member of the Long Patrol done nothing for him?
While he knew his loss may not be considered as bad as other's, it hurt to hell and back, and before he knew it, tears were swelling in his eyes. Dianthus didn't dare think the words, the she was really... gone... But the horrible thoughts, the imaginary imagery of what horrors she'd seen, before - before the vermin...
He didn't want to cry in front of the wounded hares in the infirmary, in front of Frederick, in front of anybody - he didn't want everyone to know just how spineless he really was, but he couldn't hold it back, and in a fit of sorrow he moved to wrap his arms around Frederick, hiding his face in the taller hare's shoulder. The embrace didn't last long, however, when he heard the sound of the Major's voice calling out his name.
Turning clumsily, he saluted and barked out a hoarse, "Yes, sah!" before he really realized what was happening.
They were marching to Redwall Abbey. To defend them, from the vermin. Heart pounding in his chest, Dianthus blinked the remaining tears away, casting Frederick one last look before muttering, "I'll see you out there, chap," and rushing off to ready his things.
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Post by Thrush on Nov 16, 2015 2:31:59 GMT -5
The next thing Frederick knew, Dianthus caught him in a hug. He didn't pull away. In fact, he returned the hug. The other hare buried his head in Frederick's shoulder, as if trying to hide his sorrow from the wounded and the other medical personnel. It might have been seen as unprofessional by some, but... If Dianthus needed to cry, then Frederick wouldn't stop him. He wasn't sure what to say--was there anything he could say that would help?--or even if he could get any words out past the lump in his throat.
But the hug didn't last long, for Major Rifflerun soon entered the infirmary. Frederick's heart sank still further. Certain things were expected of a Long Patrol hare. But that didn't mean that dealing with the...loss of comrades, of friends, was easy. He couldn't bring himself to think of the word. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Major Rifflerun and-- And his wife felt. Frederick snapped to attention automatically, saluting the Major.
Thirty minutes to set their affairs in order. Thirty minutes for him to pick another healer, to talk to Mater and Pater, to ready himself for the journey. They... They were going to Redwall. Then... Those monsters were surely headed there. Frederick's eyes widened; he swallowed hard. They couldn't let this happen. Not again. Not to anybeast--no one deserved that--much less the good beasts of Redwall.
"Yes, sah!" he managed to say.
Then Dianthus was darting away.
Frederick fought to think. He had to pick another healer... Right. This couldn't be made lightly. Somebeast skilled. Somebeast good at their job. He scanned the other healers, many of them still busy tending to the wounded. That would be when his gaze landed on Chervil. She wasn't a senior healer--perhaps a little older than? Even so, he knew full well that she was a good healer. And a decent sort, to boot. He approached her and talked it over; to his relief, she agreed.
With that settled, Frederick made sure his medicinal bag was stocked, slung it over, and left the infirmary. Mater and Pater would need to know... He wound his way through the mountain's halls and corridors, moving as one in a dream, until he reached their dorm. It seemed they'd only woken a little while ago. As soon as Pater caught sight of Frederick, the older hare's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Frederick knew that look. Mater rose from her chair. For a moment, he was silent, trying to think of how to explain the unexplainable, fighting to keep his composure even now.
"What happened?" Mater asked softly.
And everything came out in a jumble--what happened to the first patrol, the second's state, Lucerne. Despite his best efforts, Frederick's voice faltered, then broke. He bit his lip. But despite his best efforts, his composure crumbled. And he wept like he hadn't wept in seasons, until the sobs that wracked his lanky frame gradually subsided. Then he wiped his eyes and breathed, until he felt he could continue. Then he told them of the journey to Redwall. His pater, solemn-faced, wrapped him in a hug, as did his mater.
"I'll be careful," he promised. "...And I'll do you proud. I'll do honor to the Willoughby name."
"You already have, laddie buck," his pater replied, smiling slightly.
The remainder of his time was spent preparing for the journey. Making sure that his rapier was sharp and well-polished, gathering necessary supplies and the like... The time just seemed to fly by. Before he knew it, Frederick was at the prescribed spot outside the mountain, fiddling anxiously with his medicinal bag's strap. His heart felt like a stone. He'd always wanted to go to Redwall Abbey, but...not like this. Even so, they had a duty, and he would do as he was bidden.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 16, 2015 13:37:58 GMT -5
After both the hares had wandered off to do as he requested, Major Rifflerun set about finalizing his affairs. He returned to his room to grab his lucky dirk, and kiss his wife goodbye once more. With just fifteen minutes to spare before he had to be present in front of the Company, Boggs made his way up to Lord Lasair's forge. Knocking on the door, he made his way in, standing just inside the entrance.
"M'lord, I've got my company all picked out an' ready to march! Everybeast should be present outside by now. I was wonderin' if you'd like to see them off?"
Boggs knew that Lasair had other things to attend to, but he knew also this was an important mission, and several of these hares had never been part of a company this size, or of this importance, and it might be good for them if the Badger Lord was there to send them off, and wish them well.
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Post by Taurian on Nov 16, 2015 16:05:34 GMT -5
"Thank you, Boggsorly," Molan replied. Sending off the company would boost morale, and hopefully inspire some confidence in the younger hares. "I'll just be a moment," they added, reaching up to fetch their leg braces from a hook. They were a new invention of theirs, but they were rather uncomfortable to wear for long periods of time. Molan wore them on special occasions, like these. As they struggled with the braces, they thought about how they would address the company of hares. They hoped that they would all be alright. I've got tae kill yon silver cat. An' the red-caped one. Kill them all fer slaughterin' my hares.
After finally pulling on the braces, Molan and the major made their way to the sands outside the fortress. The badger cast an eye over the selected crew, noting the healers and runners within the group. It was a good company; Boggs had taken care to leave Molan with a good portion of the more senior warriors. Molan cleared their throat, and addressed the gathered hares. "Today ye embark on a mission tae protect Redwall Abbey from a potential vermin threat. I'm sure ye all 'ave heard the tales o' the place, even if ye've never been, so ye know what yer fighting tae protect. Chances are," Molan paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in their throat, "not all o' ye will make it back. But I'll try my very best nae tae lose anymore o' my 'ares tae those monsters. Myself an' most of the remaining Patrol will be followin' the scum, an' maybe divert them towards the Maelstrom, or thin out their ranks enough that collision willnae result in many casualties. I place my faith in all o' ye, and trust that ye will do a fine job of protecting Redwall Abbey!"
Fear and guilt boiled in Molan's gut. They were sending out hares that would never come back. Never come back. They felt like they had given the order for a patrol to attack a force ten times their size. The burning Phoenixclaw sailed through their mind, and they shook their head rapidly to clear it of the phantom flames. They turned to the major. "Yer top priority is keepin' the abbey safe. If'n the vermin do make it there, try to draw them away from the abbey, buy time until I get a runner tae ye with a plan."
{the whole Maelstrom thing isn't really going to work (mainly because adding another location would be too confusing) but Molan knows that they'd be more prepared so that's why they suggested it}
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bye!
