Arrives shrieked with both terror and laughter as her perch started to shake. After a few seconds of this, she let out a big cry, and fell right into a snowpile that had accumulated under part of the tree. She layer there, dazed a bit, then sprang right up.
"Again! Again!" She chittered, flinging snow every which way.
Cockleburr was elated to be away from the Inn. It was a nice place to visit, but he was getting bored and stir-crazy there. It was time to go and seek adventure. He didn't need Grundlink's encouragement.
He whistled a tune as he shouldered his mace Spiketail and hefted his pack. Soon, they were at the house. "Starly it is," he said, bowing. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
He followed Starlight down the hall.
Fenrath looked from the mug pinned to the wall to the pine marten who had done so. “Aye, bally, I’ve got the castle nitch,” he replied as he took the knife from the wall, “but just cause ya can toss a knife about doesn’t mean yer any good in the shadows.” Fen leaned across the table to Serghei, grinning quite broadly. “So, ‘ow long have ya been in this ‘business’ and what have ya been doin’?”
'This is quite the festival,' Liam thought as he idly munched on a hot scone he'd picked up at one of the stalls. A lot of creatures had shown up, mostly otters it seemed. As he walked past a vendor hawking 'the best tea bread you'll ever taste north of Redwall!', he noticed a long line of creatures, stretching all the way to the main pavilion. The excitement in the air was palpable.
"What's all this about?" he asked a nearby otter, a burly fellow who was carrying a harpoon.
"The whole reason reason we have this celebration in the first place!" he exclaimed, looking Liam over. "'Tis the annual Fishing Competition!"
"So I was right. Kind of," Liam muttered to himself, then turned his attention back towards the otter. "Can anybeast join?"
"Of course, matey!" the otter grinned widely. "You've got three days to find yourself the biggest fish you can find! Course," he winked, "you have to compete with everybeast else. But that's the fun of it!"
Liam looked at his spear, wondering if it would be enough. "Well, it couldn't hurt. Where do I sign up?"
"Over there," the otter pointed towards the end of the long line.
"Thanks," Liam replied, feeling the beginnings of a headache, and made his way towards it.
"Can't blame her for attacking you," said dark-pelted, bulky pine marten next to Dylan. He was just as bound as rest of the gang; sitting on the floor, short chain connecting his shackles on the big iron ring bolted on the stone, not allowing him much room to move.
"You were 'de one who sent her to be a messenger – and 'den ditched her"
Crookeye was the name this pine marten used nowadays. His real name was Knar, but that was a secret kept hidden from others. Mostly because Crookeye didn't wish the beasts he encountered make the connection between him and his past-self. 'Knar the Kinslayer' was what they called him back then. Or 'Knar the Badgerbane'. One of the many infamous bynames he had earned as Third-in-Command in vast horde army. It really was a story how a beast from such a rank had ended up in here. In this dark dungeon which walls echoed the shrieking screams, condemned like a petty bandit. Oh yes, it was quite the story, and while there were many reasons how his road had led him in here, the biggest turn of events must be the moment he took up Dylan for his offer to join his little band of thieves and cutthroats.
Had it been a mistake? Knar really didn't know. If Knar believed something called "luck", he would think Dylan had got both the worst and the best of it. First the gang leader had this grand plan rob the "riches of Kingdom of Gilmar" and actually pulled it off only to find out that this so called "riches" were just one loud, through and through spoiled princess, whose rotten personality was just unbearable. Then they were attacked, not just by beast-eating tribe but also an eagle that lived near the watchtower they had barricaded themselves in. And against every odds they had survived that. Killed the eagle, escaped the tribe-beasts, and the plan of use princess to get some royal ransom was set in motion. For a while it seemed like all this would turn out be very profitable; they had traveled to towards the meeting point where the exchange of payment and kidnapped would take the place. Only to end up meeting the King's bounty hunters on the road, resulting their capture.
Bottom line, Dylan seemed to get into the worst kind of trouble, dragging the whole crew down with him. But then again, Dylan somehow managed to pull through. Somehow managed to be the leader he was supposed to be and turn things to his favor. Knar didn't know if he should be impressed from such tenacity, or just astonished that other was still alive.
But this – Knar let his eyes dark eyes wander around, on the cold, unforgiving stonewalls that surrounded them – this might be pickle even Dylan's "worst-and-best-luck" could not save him. Or them.
Knar grunted, leaning against the wall. Errot, the young weasel kid, was beside him, curled against his side for warmth. Kid was shivering. He had just started to recover from his fever and Knar was worried this cold and damp cell would set back that progress and make the kid sick again.
Besides the scrawny rat's snifflings, all beasts were silent as a dew drop. The ferret had ground it's hind paws into the sand and eagerly awaited some kind of action. He carried an evil, sophic smile. It made Hesari shiver slightly with uncertainty. But how could he back down? This was a rite of Adulthood. There was a very real chance of banishment if he declined the fight. But was banishment better than death if he lost? He didn't want to kill a creature. That wasn't his way…
It was rash of me to make that challenge… This beast knows it.
"A fight to 'a death."
His turmoil all but resolved…
Hesari moved into stance one.