View source for A song to soothe the savage beast...

Anba_Hor, Hactor and Cercei, in the Vermin Encampment.

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'''[[Anba_Hor]]''' leans against a headstone, carelessly sitting over some woodlander's rotting gravelot, one leg straight out in front of him and the other slightly bent, arm resting there. The other paw picks at a weed on the ground, slowly and surely uprooting it so there is nothing left of it in the ground... the roots come up like soft, translucent tentacles. He spins the thing around and tosses it aside, pulling out a dagger and roughing up the soil a bit... then, a paw goes into a pouch and seems to plant something in the upturned soil, patting it back down. He rests against the stone again, grinning and looking up at the full moon.

'''[[Hactor]]''' walks from his tent. He looks rather gaunt and tired. In truth he hadn't been getting any sleep. As of late he had plagued by horrific nightmares. Some involving fire, others involving his deity. He aproached Anba, hoping the mystic could perhaps tell him why he was having such dreams.

>>> Even in the depths of the night, silence isn't a pure thing - there is always the stirring of the trees or the whisper and sizzle of insects.  Especially so is silence valued amidst an encampment of vermin.  Complaints and cries and muttered grumblings abound, dashing out what was once a peaceful place.  At the nearest fire though, some beasts have gone quiet, and the rare plink and ring of a string can be heard as someone tunes a lute.  "Give us the Song o' the Mug, lassie!" says one gutteral voice, "Aye!  A jabber gud reel that'is," says another in a horrendous accent from some odd northern land.  A chorus of cheers goes up from the ground, the stamping of paws and thump of fists on breasts.  "Aye aye!  Right you are!" cries a voice over the din, musical and strangely pleasant amongst the rough and ready vermin. ('''[[Cercei]]''')

The larger fox sees Hactor's approach and knows that tired expression... the fox guesses what the visit might be, and adds to his mystique by asking the vermin leader before he speaks, "Our leader is weary... something has kept him up at night. Are the nightmares of death? Destruction?" The fox picks up the distant sounds of celebration and hears the music for the first time. He is momentarily distracted from Hactor, as his ears perk in that direction.

Hactor ignoring the music begins to stroke his beard. Earlier on this would have startled him, but he had become (more or less) use to Anba's almost other worldly knowledge. He wraped his cloak tight about him and replied, "Yes indeed. Dreams of burning alive at the hellgates, and some of being swallowed by a great fox. You know of whom I speak?"

>>> The clamour lessens, folding into itself to become a steady, rowdy rhythm of stomping paws and clapping hands.  Above then, a ferret in a dark red coat stands, leering at the vermin gathered about the fire.  As she stamps a paw and turns, she sings in a roughened voice.  "If sorrow, the tyrant, invade the breast - Haul the fiend out by the lug, the lug!  Let no thought of the morrow disturb your rest, But banish despair in a mug, a mug!  If our business, unlucky, goes not well, Let fond fools their affections hug!  But to show our allegiance we'll steal the Bell and banish despair in a mug, a mug!"

"Zorr consumes the living, most of the time the soul is consumed, but this can sometimes take the form of bodily ingestion. The Great Fox senses your eagerness to glorify our race - do not be disturbed by his presence. You can embrace these images, the symbols.. and the burning can be the desire you have to wreak your revenge upon those you hate. The fire of dreams burns not those who learn to appreciate it. Just as the faces of the tortured now provide me a comforting image to rest upon." The fox shifts, "Did Zorr /speak/ to you?"

Hactor nods, now a bit relaxed. He looks to Anba and replies, "Yes..yes. He said before devouring me, 'From the darkness I brought you to sit on a throne. Fail me, and you shall fly screaming into ablivion. And do not fear the coming of your death. You grow old and this is inevitble, but it shall not be by age you die!'

>>> The singing, dancing ferret's rowdy song ends to cheers, then with the turn of her paws she quietens down the crowd.  She pulls the lute from where it lay nestled amidst a bunch of canvas and ties the sling over her shoulder, passing her claws over the old strings, causing the scarred wood to sing a haunting melody.  When she sings again, her voice chimes like a bell - not the bright and crystalline ones, but the deep, brassy tones of an ancient bell, rolling with the music from the strings.  "The moonlight it was dancing, On the waves out on the sea.  The stars of heaven hovered, in a shimmering galaxy.  A voice from down the ages, So haunting in its song.  These ancient stones will tell us, our hearts must make us strong..."

"You remember in great detail - this is good. Your heroic death, too, will be good for you in the afterlife. No beast that dies of old age is glorified for their death - but an unnatural and disturbing death, a /painful/ death, is something to embrace. Embrace it, and give that gift back to others, and you will be celebrated in the world to come." The fox closes his eyes and takes a deep breath... "I sense... you may lose Redwall soon after you come to power... but you will fight to keep it, and death will come to you in an attempt to overthrow your overthrower." The fox opens his eyes.

>>> "The breeze it wrapped around me, as I stood there on shore.  And listened to this voice, like I never heard before.  Our battles they will find us!  No choice may ours to be!  But hold the banner proudly - By blood shall you be free!"

Hactor nods. This news is good. The old ofx knows that strength, as it should is rewarded where as weakness and old age brings nothing. Resighned to his fate he replies, "You are wise Anba. I shall heed your words, and be glad when the time comes for me to part." He then heard snippets of the song, and had to smile at how appropriate it was.

Anba_Hor smiles too, but hears only the voice itself and the lovely rhythms sung and strummed. "I don't see why that rabble should have the best entertainment... you /could/ use your influence as leader to have her come and play for us? It might relax our leader, illuminate his thoughts about death and downfall, put them in a more Romantic context?" The fox secretly longs for that voice not for Hactor, but for his own sanity. Inside, it causes him deep confusion...

>>> The songs fades after another verse, then the lute itself goes quiet a moment later, the strings humming into silence, followed a small chorus of pleased but lazy cheers.  The music was complex and the melody stunning, but it may have been wasted on ditch-digging mongrels like the crowd at the fire.  The ferret though, she took what she could get and slung the instrument over her back, taking her leave of the fire and slipping out into the dark, aiming for the next fire, opposite the recumbent Anba and the standing Hactor.  The golden net atop her head gleams in the starlight as she nears, followed by her teeth as she sneers at the fox, "Off with you, bushtail.  You're in my way," she says, in a tone that is decidedly unfamiliar with just who leads the army...

Hactor looks down at the ferret and to tired to bag hand her insolence replies, "You don't know who I am do you?" Before she answers though he continues with a grin, "Why don't you sing a song for you General eh?"  Hactor is an old fox from the North (about 30 seasons). The first thing you'll notice are his bright orange eyes which can appear very amused, or very souless. He weares a brown tunic, and fur cloak (no one except himself knows what kind of fur). He grey fur, with streaks of orang and red running through it. He carries a longsword, and a dagger. As for his voice, he has a very dusty, slurish kind of tone when he speaks. Though if you tell him a joke, you'll hear the most unerving bark of a laugh.

Anba_Hor gives her a look as if to say, 'If not for this fool, then for me, your great Admirer!' The fox promptly looks away, carving strange symbols in the dirt next to him. "Yes, it would put him in a more restful state, and you would be greatly rewarded for your efforts."

>>> The small ferret looks from Hactor, then to the recumbent Anba, then back again.  She rolls her expressive eyes and lets out a little chuckle.  "Hah, right - I don't believe a word of it, mangy-ear.  I've seen Hactor; he's a big fox alright, but he's no gaunt, mangy beast like you." she says, her voice bright as a star.  With a neat little turn of a hand, the small dagger that hung at her breast is in her hand, a slim little stiletto with fancy brass quillions.  She wags it in a vaguely threatening way, her leer still on her lips, "Move with you, pup, or I'll report you two to the -real- general."

Anba_Hor hates to do it, but he can't allow himself to seem like a tolerant beast. The fox stands up and asks, although in a softer, muted tone he uses none too often, "And what of me? Do I look like an imposter?" The fox towers above the ferret, the black and blue-painted body taut and ready to spring... Anba's white eyes are energetic, and absolutely genuine in their evil, if not a bit entrancing...

Hactor wips out his sword in a flash, sending Cercei's dagger flying. He points the tip of the sword at her neck and replies in a rather bored tone, "I /am/ the real General. And my temper is /really/ begining to slip. Utter one more cross word to me.. and you'll lose that pretty tongue."

>>> There's a little tinkling sound of metal striking a stone as the swatted dagger finds an old marker on it's path into the gloom of the graveyard.  The ferret's mouth had dropped open as Anba stood, and then her eyes opened wide as the tip of Hactor's sword comes to rest a hair's breath away from her sinuous throat.  She stands still as though carved from wood, aching hand held still just there, a few strands of fur falling from her paw, where the sword had cut so very close.  Dark eyes dart from Hactor's gleaming orange orbs to Anba's dead white pupils.  She begins to tremble.  "I-I-I-I'm so sorry, my lords!  It is dark and I-I-I find myself n-not able to t-trust anybeast!" she stutters, her voice a tiny, trembling echo of it's former glorious self.

Hactor smirks and begins to chuckle, sheathing his sword. "You're forgiven. It is dark just don't make the same mistke twice!" The old beast then sat on an old grave marker wraping his fur cloak agains a summer breese. He then said rather tired, "Play us a song. One of death, and the grave."

Anba_Hor looks to Hactor, "Well, now she is well-aware. Nature should have given ferrets better eyes, though." He turns to Cercei Luckily for you, maid, she has also given you quite a voice, and the delicate fingers to play. See? There is a balance in everything in the world." He chuckles and sits.

Cercei stays still for a moment even after the sword is withdrawn, her whole form trembling.  When she finally manages to get ahold of her heatbeat, she sags a little letting out one long, wavering breath.  "I..." she starts, then stop and looks about.  Yes, it would be such a good idea to refuse these two...  In a graveyard.  It would save them time.  "Yes, my lords." she says, pulling her lute free and settling it on her front.  She blinks a few times, looking to the ground, trying to think of one suitable - damned be her learning!   There is few enough songs on death... unless...  She gritted her teeth and began to play, her nimble claws plucking the strings, drawing forth a slow, mournful song, then adding to it her voice...

>>> "A clouded dream on an earthly night, hangs upon the crescent moon.  A voiceless song in an ageless light, sings at the coming dawn.  Birds in flight are calling there, where the paws move the stones...  It's there that my blood is falling, all for the love of you..."

Hactor sits and breaths deeply, listening to the music and words. He wraps his cloak tighter around him closing his eyes, as he remembers distant shores, and mountains from a time when he was just an inocent pup.

Anba_Hor's blood is warmed by the eerie melody, and the fox leans his head back upon the top edge of the tombstone, breathing in time with the music... one of the fox's feet is twitching to the song as well - the wild animal that would just as soon torture and kill anybeast as make a deal with them seems to be very fond of this music. His head rocks, left and right, the back of his skull rolling along the edge of the stone, imagining his fondest times... but these are far less innocent than one might imagine.

Cercei's fingers are a blur upon the strings, the ferret's forehead creased with concentration as she works to keep the complicated song flowing - a melody that sounds so simple and elegant to the ears, yet such harmony needed takes almost all of her concentration.  Even so, she sings to match, words flowing with the song, and improvising changes as she goes, singing very likely for her life.  "A carving upon a mountain wall, nestled in the emerald moss.  The eyes declare a truce of trust, then draws me far away, where in the desert twilight, sand melts in pools of the sky... Darkness lays her crimson cloak and Death calls me home..."

Hactor begins to humm along with the melody, his eyes still closed. This indeed was relaxing on his nerves. He tappedon the tombstone along with the beat.

Anba_Hor is by no means ignorant of the talent... of the harmonic complexity and the ad-libbing done on the part of the ferret. He lightly, almost inaudibly, sings a counter melody below hers - in fact, several octaves below hers - grinning at how well he is able to predict the changes almost before they happen. "Ah, wonderfully painful - it really gouges a hole in your spirit, eh general?"

Hactor nods eyes still closed, "Aye, puts things in perspective. That's what these redwallers shall learn. Perspective."

>>> The ferret's ears quirk a little at Anba's deeper basso, and for half a breath she almost falters, her mind wandering, but she catches a chord before it falls and keeps it moving, with only the slightest burr in the music.  "And so it's there my homage's due, clutched by the still of the night... now I feel Darkness move, and every breath is full... So it's here that my homage is due, clutched by the still of the night... Even the distance feels so near, all for the love of you." her voices rises into a bright note now, the sound of a ringing brass bell tolling a mourning note, "A clouded dream on an earthly night, hangs upon the crescent moon!  A voiceless song in an ageless light sings at the coming dawn... Birds in flight are calling there, where the paws move the stones... It's there that my blood is falling, All for the love of you..." the final note rings, fading slowly into silence like the last breath of the dying...

The fox jumps up and claps loudly and slowly, the sound reverberated on sleepy tents and old, stone edifices, "Lovely! Wonderful and /dark/. You really feel it in the gut, this song... as if your heart is being torn to pieces! Yes! Fantastic, the effort was dead on." The fox bows low to Cercei, "You will be with us every night, then? We insist... I mean, if I may speak for our leader..." Anba Hor turns to Hactor, grinning.

The old fox nods and grunts his approval, his old mind still wandering in stoney highlands and blue seas.

Cercei starts and looked like she was about to bolt as the huge Anba rose.  The ferret clutches at her lute like a shield, her earlier posture of blithe dismissal now forgotten and replaced with a shivering, half-crouched meekness, made all the worse by the looming greatfox.  Cercei wasn't all that much of a coward by nature... but there is a certain line in the sand when 'bravery' and 'idiocy' are set, and Cercei had never dabbled too close to it.  "Er... aye?" she says, then straightens up a little, "Er, Aye, my lord.  I would be so honoured!" she says, now with much more vigour.  Ho, what luck!  No more singing for scraps with the diseased vermin!  She'd be at the high table feasting on the best!

Anba_Hor takes the minstrel aside and guides her by the shoulder, a decidedly unnerving, hefty paw resting there, and speaks to her, "Your music really does speak to the intellect as well as the passions... he is easily led by emotion, Hactor... and I worry he may be getting on in seasons, so if you feel you need somebeast to truly appreciate all the time and effort put into your craft, do come to my tent to serenade me - you may not find the place comely at first, but I assure you it can be gotten used to. You would have attentive ears always..." He leads her back towards Hactor.

Hactor opens his eyes as they aproach, and licks his dry lips. He coughs a few times and sayes to Cercei, "Aye. Whenever I feast or my fancy strikes it, you may sing whatever pleases you." He thought for a moment, and decided he didn't want anything hapening to this 'song bird'. He truns to Anba and sayes, "Keep a close watch on her. If anyone gives her trouble, you may deal with them as you see fit."

"We were... discussing a wage, of course... if you allow me, it should be out of my own pocket, my leader..." Anba bows to the older fox. "I shall bring her to you and see her back to her tent, every eve, of course." Perfect. Extra time could be arranged, a private exhibition, all for himself!

Cercei had been moving to a new fire five minutes ago, in the hope of singing a half-gnawed pigeon bone from some rats... then she threatened the General himself with a knife, then was made to play a song for her very life and now... and now.  Cercei's head buzzed with the suddenness of it all, but her stage-training had her moving confidently, and grinning.  She had even released the death-grip on her lute.  She takes a steep bow to the older Hactor, "It would be an absolute pleasure to serve, great one.  Whenever you ask, I shall be ready at your hand..."  Oh what perfection!  She had truly earned her place here, now all would know her greatness!

Hactor nods and looks out at the horizen. Still expecting more nightmares he stood and said, "I shall enjoy you'r songs for a while I think. But now I must sleep. If you need anything ask Anba, and he dhall provide it." Hactor was no fool. True he to enjoyed the songs, but he knew a proper minstrel can keep an army's moral high. As for himself, well he was almost looking forward to the nightmares as he swaggered to his tent.

>>> In the deepening gloom of the night, the wind stirred the trees, and the muted echo of the gathered vermin still reined... though now it seemed to have a far quieter tone to it, hushed and nervous, especially near the center of the camp, where the strange song had been played.


[[Category:Monzcarro]]
[[Category:July_2010]]
[[Category:Events_-_Tiny_Plots]]
[[Category:Sometimes_Club]]