Going North: Let the Journey Begin!



  • Morning arose quickly, Oliver rolled and fell off the bed. "Ough!" He got up and rubbed his head. "Ow.." He let out a big yawn; he stood up and put the top of his tunic on. He walked out of the room and down the hall right into Grums room. He saw his friend still sleeping and smiled. "Yarrg!" He jumped into the air and landed on top of him. "Wake up, sleepy head."



  • Grum and Oliver came from: http://www.redwallslegacy.com/SMF/index.php?topic=165.60

    Grum lay with a gaping mouth, snoring loudly, completely unaware. He was instantly awakened as the air whooshed from his lungs, seeing the form of a squirrel upon him. He swiftly rolled over and fell out of bed, knocking his head on the stone floor none too gently. With a yelp he jumped up and stepped on his own tail, managing to send himself to the floor once more with a loud bump.

    For a moment he just sat there, rubbing his head as a paw reached out to make sure his tail was okay.
    “Geez.” he groaned, smoothing the crick in his tail gently. “I said wake me up, not assault me!” he complained, still rubbing his head lightly.



  • "Same thing happened to me, fell outta bed, but I knew it would be a good day!" He was very excited, a good mood. "Well get your weapon ready, we have hours of traveling to do. I'll teach you some things about the country side on the way." Oliver had his wooden staff tied up to his back, fresh fighting wraps, and a new black belt. His crescent moon necklace had a brilliant glow as the sun hit it.



  • -ooc-Yah…  that last topic of yours was quite interesting. You made it quite big, really quickly. 🙂



  • OOC: Sorry about the wait, Shadow. I had to get all settled in here at New Mexico n' everything. 😉 I wound up having more stuff to deal with than expected. lol, I'm back though. ^^

    IC:

    Grum swiftly jumped up and offered a crisp salute with a wide smile,
    “Yessir!” he barked in military fashion, scrabbling for the space beneath his bed so he could collect his weapon. The sheathed sword was swiftly belted to his waist and he offered another quirky salute, “Private Grumehlki Tihm at y’service, sir!” His brows furrowed and became quite flat and serious as he attempted his best impression of a no-nonsense soldier. Hands at his sides, back stiffly straight, and limbs stiff at attention.



  • Oliver chuckled. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to. Besides, since you are helping me with the army, you'll end up being second in command, if anything happened to me during battle like death or being captured, you would be in charge of the others." Oliver fixed his fighting wraps and his weapon.

    "Well, we should get going then. We have a far journey up North, it'll be about a month before we reach Salamandastron. From there we are going either east or west, I have a friend who has a couple of mates that want to help us. After that we are going to explore uncharted lands. Then come back here to get rid of the evil of Mossflower. All in all, it should take about 3 to 4 years. We should have a strong enough army by then."



  • Grum seemed almost overwhelmed at the concept.
    “Me?” he muttered softly, the horrid realization of being a leader sinking in like sand-weighted lead. “But, nothin’ will happen t’you…right?” he inquired, just the thought itself a cold nightmare. What would he do? What if that time came sooner than expected? What would Grum do? Would he be able to handle such pressure? How much of battle would he know by then? Tactics? Diplomacy?

    ...

    Courage?

    Did he truly possess enough to accept such a position. A paw slowly crept up to scratch nervously his other arm, the look of thought a clear pattern upon his face. With a slow breath he turned back to Oliver and merely nodded, almost having forgotten he’d asked a question in the first place. The thought was daunting and made him realize how big this situation actually was.

    And here he hadn’t even left yet, and was having doubts.



  • "Don't worry about it, I was just as nervous as you when I was appointed Lieutenant at your age. You are a much better warrior than I was when I was younger." He smiled and continued "I'll make sure nothing happens to me or you though."

    He thought about how he was going to approach this journey and his ideas. Oliver was already planning ahead of what he was going to do; he hoped it would come together. "Don't think too hard about it, you'll have nothing to worry about." The least of Oliver's worries were merely towards the journey; the thing that worried him most was making sure others would join and being ambushed. He knew to be cautious and on his guard the whole trip. "Well lets get moving, we have a long day ahead of us."



  • Grum nodded absently, making sure his belt was fastened properly as he followed Oliver out of the dormitories. He wondered what exactly would happen in those first few days. Where would they travel? Who would they meet? Would there be battle? Or perhaps nothing more than dull days and quiet nights? The thought was intriguing, and made Grum feel all the more comfortable with his own abilities. He had much to learn, but much time to learn it in. In all reality, he had nothing to worry over.

    Yet.



  • Time passed, the two warriors were far away from the abbey; about to face a big danger. Let the  journey begin..

    "Alright, this is when you have to be mentally strong. Don't even go on the negative side. I have a bad feeling here." He looked about, a twitch in his ears. He looked at the bushes and waited. There first battle was going to commence. They were ready.

    "Hmm.. Gah! Grum behind you!" Two large stoats with devilish grins on their ugly mugs jumped from the bushes behind the goodbeasts. They both had large, spiked clubs. Both laughed in their devious way. "Ey mate, seems that we 'ave some goodbeasts on the patrol." The other butted in. "Yeah, they 'dun look so tough. We should kill 'em 'an take their stuff."

    Oliver looked at Grum and gave him a look. "I guess I'll take the one on the left.." The one the first talked looked at Oliver and smiled. "Ey, you are big for a Squirrel, seems like I'll 'ave more meat to last me. Hehehe.."



  • The fur on Grum's neck began to prickle even before Oliver mentioned anything to him. The shrew was about to comment on the matter but then Oliver spoke, and the stoats seemed to just materialize out of the forest shrubbery. Grum was swiftly on his guard, taking a quick step back and drawing his new sword which offered forth a hearty ring.

    The sword was placed in a fencer's stance once more, and a sneer crept into Grum's face.
    "Mayhap ye should try it a bit afore ye say who's tough an' who ain't!" the shrew growled, headspikes bristling as his fighting muscles tensed for the battle that was sure to commence.



  • (( If you would be so kind to rp the right stoat. :3 ))

    "Alright mate, we kill these GoodBeasts now!" The left stoat charged like a madbeast, swinging his large club wildly. Oliver braced himself, footpaws sticking to the ground like glue. "Give me all you got!" Oliver twirled his metal staff out, just in time to defend a strong slash. The stoat used force to push, sliding Oliver backwards. His footpaws digging into the soft ground.

    The powerful Squirrel pushed upwards, knocking the blade and the upper body of the stoat upwards. An opening. Oliver twirled his leg, sending a powerful kick into the creatures stomach.



  • OOC: No problem. 😉

    IC:

    Grum growled menacingly as the stoat roared and they both charged. The shrew offered a charge of his own and swung out towards the right stoat’s club. The stoat grinned and pushed the blade harmlessly away with the weight of his own weapon, bulling forward to issue a hearty blow with his shoulder right into Grum’s chest. Grum was sent sprawling backwards and landed heavily into the trunk of a tree. With a dazed expression he swiftly lifted himself, only to find himself pinned by an iron grip which was the stoat’s paw.

    The creature grinned devilishly and tickled the shrew’s chin with the spikes in his club,
    “Well, well, well. Don’t we talk big an’ ‘ave nuttin’ t’show?” he cackled nastily and squeezed, Grum gasping for breath.

    Out of anger the smaller shrew bit ravenously into the stoat’s paw, causing the beast to reel backwards with a yelp as blood began to drench his fur. Grum was quick to take the advantage he was offered, and swung swiftly towards the beast’s mid section. Battle intelligence told the stoat to jump away, and he did, offering a swift wrathful swing which caught the oblivious shrew right on the left of his face. Grum was once again sent sprawling, and this time, he lost the grip on his sword. The metal clanged harmlessly away, sparkling in the above sunlight. Grum rubbed his face and felt blood, three puncture wounds having pierced his cheek from the spikes. Luckily only the blunt of the weapon hit his skull. But still, the shrew was dazed and in pain, blindly seeking his weapon with a paw.

    The stoat smiled with dirty and jagged fangs, walking towards the shrew’s fallen weapon and placing a paw upon it hard.
    “Well, lil’ beast. How wud ye like t’die? Nice n’ slow, or quick and painless?” once again the stoat cackled maniacally, sending Grum rolling with a swift kick to his injured face. “I think ye wanna’ die slow, eh? Th’least I can do fer this nick ye offer’d me.” he strode forward with menace, sadism in his eyes as Grum attempted furiously to rise.

    His face continued to bleed and his head throbbed with pain, but he managed to rise. With a growl he prepared himself as the stoat drew closer, blood staining the left side of his sharp shrew teeth. With a roar the shrew charged, and with such intensity the stoat was caught off guard and faltered. Grum used that moment of uncertainty as best he could, tackling the vermin to the earth and pounding his face with balled fists. The stoat gurgled and attempted to cry out but couldn’t as blow after blow fell upon his bloody face. His jaw cracked, his cheek bones snapped and his eyes and mouth poured a thick, dark blood. Even after the creature was dead and gone to Dark Forest, Grum did not stop, anger in his eyes and his mind momentarily not his own. It wasn’t until the throbbing in his knuckles and paws finally sunk in that he managed to stop, staring into the bloody mess which was once the stoat’s wicked face. He just sat there, kneeling upon the beast, blood creeping down his cheek as his eyes and breathing slowly calmed.



  • "So, squirrel. You have power, I can see." The Stoat ducked downards and used his legs to push upwards; a headbutt under Oliver's jaw. He was sent flying.

    Oliver caught himself, rubbing his jaw. "Gah.. Yah!" Oliver swung a fake right hook, dodging a club swing from the stoat. He ducked down and swung his leg around, a sweep kick. The large animal fell to the ground with a thud. Oliver flipped into the air. As he plummeted to the ground he stabbed downwards with his staff; the  Stoat moving his head just in time to dodge the attack. "Gah stuck in the ground!" Oliver tried to pull out his staff, only to be hit with the butt end of the club in the stomach. He skid backwards a good ten feet at a quick rate right into a boulder.

    Oliver ducked his head, the the spiked part of the club smashing into the boulder. The squirrel used it as his advantage. He wrapped his arms around the belly of the Stoat, pushing forwards. He kicked the stoats leg up and bridged backwards, slamming the creature on his head. It was one of Olivers body throws.

    The creature cried out and stood up slowly as Oliver unbridged himself back to a standing position. "You want to play tough, Squirrel?!" The Stoat charged while throwing a powerful punch. Oliver blocked just in time, but it knocked him off his footpaws. The Stoat jumped in the air; Oliver picked up his staff quickly. The stoat landed on the staff and fell downwards through it, right through his chest. Blood spurted from the large creature. Oliver stood up and kicked the dead beast off of his weapon. "Take that you big oaf!"



  • Grum stood slowly, staring with unseeing eyes down at the creature which used to resemble a stoat. Blood continued to ooze slowly from the horribly disfigured face as Grum clenched his paws into fists, blood trickling from the broken skin about his knuckles. It took many moments for him to come back to himself, but only slightly. Enough so that he could collect his sword, clean it and sheathe it; turning to Oliver then as though seeking direction. He had nothing to say, no retorts, no brags, but merely thought within his own mind. He realized he killed a beast, and it was perhaps more questionable than it was shocking. How many times had he come close to killing another? Never? Once? Perhaps more? He couldn’t recal ever having so much adrenaline pumping or feeling so much anger…it was strange and paralyzing.

    So he just stood there, seeking a sort of solace from the squirrel nearby.



  • "You will have to kill more than you think. Its all apart of self defense and keeping natural order in others lives. It sounds unjust, it sounds bad in general. Hopefully you'll understand when you get older. I still don't comprehend 'Killing' because I'm still very young." He cleaned off the shrews face, wiping the blood off and bandaging him up. Oliver did the same for himself. "If you have enough energy, we have to continue our journey. If not, we can rest here."



  • Grum remained silent and didn't fight any attention he was given. It was reassuring to have his wounds cleaned and dressed, but his stony silence remained in place. He sat as Oliver dressed his own wounds and for the moment just listened to the wind through the forest canopy. It was calming, at least for that moment. But as Oliver spoke again the shrew merely took a deep breath and replied simply,
    "We can keep moving, I'm not tired." he wasn't, at least, not on a physcial level. Perhaps he was a bit drained emotionally but regardless of what was said and done, it was something he would have to overcome of his own power. After all…it was only one beast, right?

    Just one, and that didn't matter...right?



  • -ooc-I hope that this isn't a problem. I just want to involve him a bit. If you don't like it than I can delete it.

    -bic- A voice suddenly spoke from somewhere in the woods. "'Fraid of death, huh? It'd be foolish not to be.
        'Sometimes our greatest fear becomes our greatest adventure, but usually; our greatest adventure involves our greatest fear of all…' "
        It's a quote from my brother. A wise freind."

    A pine martin in a green forest cloak stepped out from behind a tree and smiled resuringly. "You wouldn't happen to have seen him would you?"



  • ooc: not a problem. It would be fun to have more guests. Maybe he would join them in their quest to protect mossflower? =3

    IC:

    Oliver was worried for the Shrew. He nodded his head and gave him a sign to keep his head up, not to let it get to him. "Alright, were all ready." He looked over at the voice before setting off. "Wow, thats a good quote, a good way to put death.." Oliver looked at the pine martin and replied. "Nope, we haven't seen him anywhere. Maybe we can search for him. Would you like to join us on our journey for good? To protect and build an army of goodbeasts to keep Mossflower from harm? If so follow us, we can look for your brother on the way." They continued on.

    It was mid afternoon, the night creatures waking up; getting ready to start their nights. The sun was slightly up but, appeared an orangish red. Oliver stopped and looked at his friend. "We'll make camp here, meet back here after finding food. I'll go to the river and dive for fishes." With that said the squirrel left the camp sight to a nearby river. He dove in and began his underwater hunt.



  • OOC: It's okay with me. ^^ People are always welcome. 😛

    IC:

    Grum remained silent a long moment as he watched the red-stained rays of sun creeping towards the western horizon. It would be dark before long, and he wasn’t sure what exactly that would herald. If danger was so close to Redwall’s gates then…what would reside farther on? Were there worse things than stoats in the forest darkness? Suddenly Grum felt very small and weak compared to the world, he hadn’t realized just what everything amounted to in reality. Perhaps he was a dreaming Dibbun...

    Oliver was reassuring though, and as the pine marten entered the clearing he couldn’t help but look his way. He stood slowly, nervous at first, but the tone in his voice betrayed no illwill, and so Grum relaxed a small fraction. He still remained silent as Oliver replied, a paw gripping the scabbard of his sword until his knuckles turned white. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it until he attempted to move, realizing his entire arm was tensed.

    Shaking his head fur swiftly he detached his stone-frozen arm and regarded the marten with a nod of his head,
    “I haven’t seen a marten here or at Redwall. I could’ve missed ‘im though. Redwall is a large place.” Grum shrugged, and then tilted his head with a curious look, “I’m not afraid...I just...” A paw crept up to rub Grum’s neck as he searched for words, those fiery copper eyes looking to the earth a moment. “I’m not afraid.” he said softly, his paw returning to his side as he kept his stare earthward, not knowing any other way to defend his standing or feelings.

    He figured maybe he should just remain silent...

    But then Oliver spoke to him, and issued orders. Grum merely nodded and watched as the squirrel dove into the waters with the skill of an otter. It amazed Grum, but he was in no mood for such simple oddities. The shrew turned back to the pine marten and shook his head,
    "You'll have to excuse me." he offered rather silently, somewhat beaten, "I have to go forage for food." Grum made his way towards the woods, as though he'd leave the beast on the spot. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to really focus on much else. He was rather distanced with this new dilemma.


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