Enter Luco
More fun adventures in the militia. Rorgan Fargo and Raziel finely come face to face with the leader of the militia. Lee provided all the mole speak, then Rorgan got involved in a mole npc. I...butchered my mole accent...
The sun begins to set as the hours go by, the silence of the forest is only broken by the sound of the cart hitting bumps in the uneven forest path and the occasional whimper from Fargo as he contemplates his fate at the paws of the militia around him. With only torch light to guide their way the Militia members eventually lead their captives to the base of a hillside. At the bottom of the hill their is a small camp of burlap tents and a wooden fort structure that blends in remarkably well with the surrounding forest. The fort is simple in design, more like a fortified watch tower built into the side of the hill. Next to the fort is a large almost square hole leading into the earth wide enough to allow a cart through it.
Raziel begins to wake as they approach the structure - not that he can tell where he is, because his head is still covered. It also doesn't take him long to remember what's going on, or why he's so @$%^&% angry! But instead of immediately resuming his not-so-idle threats, the cat acts as though he's still unconscious... Nothing works quite like the element of surprise.
Rorgan walks along in silence, fervently hoping that no-beast would talk to him. The silence along the journey only served to lengthen the time he had to think about the quest, and what was at stake for him and Derrin both...
Fargo begins to chitters nervously as the cart draws closer to the cave entrance. The beasts in the camp give them the briefest of looks before going about their business. They look like guards. ALL of them. There do not seem to be any civilians in the camp. The tunnel leads down at an angle into the earth. Upon closer inspection it has a trapezoid shape with stone support columns holding up the the stone ceiling and lit by torch light. Nothing too fancy but a step above a simple mine shaft into the ground.
Raziel continues to act as though he's out cold, going so far as to keep his tail absolutely still - it's harder than you'd think! But he doesn't have anything to distract him from the task, other than trying to gauge what's happening by listening though the bag over his head. At some point, the noises change; it sounds like they're in an enclosed space. A building, perhaps, or underground...why would that be?
Rorgan looks around curiously as they enter the tunnel, happy that he doesn't have to worry about any of the other guards questioning him since he had mentioned that he was a new recruit, and so wouldn't be expected to have ever been in this place before.
The guards remain mostly quite as they descend into the hillside. The walk isn't very long. The bottom of the tunnel opens up into a large and spacious grand hall. About two stories tall and about a hundred feet wide the room is made of stone with several other hallways leading out into unseen rooms. The Hall resembles the great hall back in redwall to some degree with a large oak table in the center with four smaller tables set up near the corners of the room. The traffic here is considerable. Beasts of every woodland species are here working on projects if not sharing a meal. The cart comes to an abrupt halt. The otter in charge of the party orders, "Ok, on your feet and off the cart you vermin." He gestures to Rorgan to give a hand in forcing the captives off the cart.
Raziel does not move, or make any kind of indication that he heard anything; he's still out cold, as far as everyone is concerned! And that's likely to remain the case, as long as no one removes his hood to find out. Which, judging by the utter terror that most beasts here regard him with, there's very little chance of that. Even at that...he could still probably fake it. But no, he's just going to sit there - eventually the guards will get over their fear and get tired of waiting, and simply drag him out.
Fargo is quick to follow the orders given, until the shackles attached his leg stops short when when the cat on the other end doesn't move. "Hey! Cat. Rise and shine!" One of the militia members orders. When the cat doesn't move the otter rubs the back of his head, "Dash it all...how hard did you hit him recruit?" With a sigh he orders, "Rota, Philip, Marco, don't just stand there, drag him out of there."
Rorgan shrugs. "I didn't hit him /that/ hard," He says, walking around to the back of the cart, though he gives the cat's leg a small poke. "Looks like he's out cold still, though..." He doesn't seem to have much of a problem with grabbing Raziel, but he does have a problem with it if none of the others help.
Raziel allows himself to be dragged out - it would be a rather poor decision to end the deception /now/. He's a bit uncomfortable with not being able to see his surroundings, still, but a slim chance of escaping is better than no chance at all...
The otter guards help 'Rota' lift the cat out of the cart. Fargo hops out of the cart with out assistance. Several militia members stand guard around the captives. A mole approaches them from a hallway to the left. "Whats all dis goings on derr? Why'r all des vermins here?" The otter apologizes, "Sorry captain. One beast has important information for Luco the other..." the otter gestures for his men to remove the bag over Raz's head. "Is the Mossflower butcher."
Rorgan tries hard to not react as the cat standing in front of him is revealed, confirming his suspicion as being Raziel. Instead, he averts his gaze so he doesn't have to make eye contact. He was sure the cat would be recognizing him now, even through the bandana and other gear he had on.
The mole frowns. "Burr aye? You'm arskin furr moi help with thurr rarscal vurmint villyun?"
The mole draws his rapier. "Hurr, et be a gurt deloight ta give moi help, zurr."
Raziel is, in fact, doing very little recognizing. With the hood pulled off, and himself under almost certain scrutiny, the cat keeps his eyes shut, still trying to look as unconscious as beast-ly possible. Hopefully, they take him somewhere less exposed soon, so he can actually start formulating a /real/ plan! But, for the time being, the wildcat continues playing utterly limp, letting the assorted woodlanders drag him around.
The mole frowns. "Burr aye? You'm arskin furr moi help with thurr rarscal vurmint villyun?"
The mole draws his rapier. "Hurr, et be a gurt deloight ta give moi help, zurr."
The mole laughs scoffingly. "Can oi foight? Can oi foight? Oi tell ee, moi gudd zurr, Oi can foight vurmint villyuns in moi sleep!"
The mole captain sighs. He gestures to the guard who just drew his blade, "Easy laddie. Yoi ber getten de chance soon enough." He gestures to militia members, "Oie, Luco just be down that in de corner." The mole points to the far corner on the opposite end of the room, then, because he is blind as a mole corrects himself and points to the opposite corner.
Rorgan raises an eyebrow before tightly gripping one of the wildcat's arms, thankful that Raziel hadn't woken up and blown his cover through sheer ignorance. "Right, well let's be goin' I s'pose," He says mostly to himself, walking towards the specified direction.
The mole sighs. "Roight, zurr. Oi deloight in givin vurmint villyuns gudd porshings o' death wi' moi sword."
Raziel doesn't need to be able to see to identify some of the accents here. One is probably an otter...and the other most certainly a mole. Ugh...moles. The wildcat would have better luck conversing with a brick wall...
The mole frown. "Burr aye! Oi wanna show a gurt rarscal vurmint villyun moi sword."
Dragging the cat along by his shoulders and forcing the fattened weasel forward via spear point to the back they eventually make their way past the tables where militia members are dining and having dinner. There are more civilians, families and workers, here in the underground base than up top. Near the last table a young looking brown furred mouse is sitting in a chair bouncing a season old dibbun mouse on his knee. Another dibbun is resting on the floor drawing on a piece of paper. The brown furred mouse with the dibbun on his lap is dressed in a simple yellow tunic with dark red fringes. His face has been bandaged from the base of his snout to the tip of his ear. Compliments of a certain battle not too long ago. Luco looks up at the approaching procession. "Wow...looks like this day just got more interesting."
A mole guard armed with a short sword trundles up to the procession. "Oi! Whurr you'm headed thurr?" He asks the other mole guard.
Raziel has to try /very/ hard to restrain himself from twitching at the sound of that psycho mouse zealot Luco's voice. The wildcat has a considerable amount of hate bottled up for that beast..
The mole replies, "Oi whurr helpin with this hurr vurmint villyun."
Rorgan closes his eyes for a few moments, taking several deep breaths before opening them again. This is not the moment for him to be blowing his cover. Meanwhile, the mole looks quizzically at Fargo, pointing to him. "Thiss vurmint? Wot threat is thiss un? All he c'n do is crush you'm. Ee's bigger'n all you'm put t'gether!" The mole lets out a laugh.
Luco chuckles at the mole speak. "Indeed." The mouse turns to his dibbuns. "Marko go take your sister and play in the west wing, ok?" He hands off the dibbun on his lap to the child on the floor. "Sure thing dad," The tiny mouse eyes the vermin curiously before leaving. Once out of sight Luco's smile fades. The tailless mouse stands up and gives his captives a look. "Ah, yes, the Mossflower butcher. It's been a..." he frowns when he sees that the wildcat is unconscious. "Some one wake him up. It's no fun to gloat when no one can see it." Then the mouse pauses next to Fargo as the beasts around him laugh at the gest. "I don't recognize you though..." The weasel gulps, "F-Fargo sir. I have info on Dylan I would like to e-exchange for my life." Luco raises an eyebrow. He turns to one of the guards, picking on at random, and his eyes fall on rorgan, "is this true?"
Raziel doesn't plan to remain 'unconscious' forever. He's just waiting for the right moment. After all, that's what an ambush predator does, isn't it? Just get a little closer, mouse. We'll see who's gloating...
The mole stares at the Mouse, going dead silent.
Rorgan takes a deep breath and an uncomfortable shuffle before speaking. "Yes sir. I caught this'un in the woods with an empty burlap sack. I believe he recently gave supplies t' somebeast." He sincerely hoped that the weasel wouldn't mess this up for the both of them. The other mole guard does the same as his companion, remaining silent and returning to his post to stand at attention.
Arms folded behind his back Luco takes a step forward towards Rorgan. To his right is the limp form of Raziel and further down the line a very nervous looking Fargo. "Very good soldier. You did good but...I can't quite shake the feeling we have met before. It's driving me up a wall to be honest. Which unit are you assigned to?"
The mole Digdug is actually quaking a little.
Raziel slowly cracks his pale eyes open - just enough so that he can see, but not enough to be seen at a distance - and glances over to Luco. The wildcat's paws may be bound, but he still has teeth...and if the mouse is close enough, he intends to use them.
Luco tilts his head to the side. Finely he shrugs. "Must be my imagination then." The mouse walks away from the group of beasts, "Take them away to the dungeon. I'll deal with them when I have the time. Make sure they are...comfortable." The guards around them salute before leading the prisoners away from the Hall into the path way to the right.
Rorgan frowns for a moment before shaking his head. "I haven't been assigned a group sir. I'm a new recruit, and I'm sure I'd remember you if we'd met before."
Rorgan walks off with the rest of the guards, unable to begin to think of how relieved he was at getting away from that situation. The only part that bugged him was...he had never met Luco before, so how did the mouse recognize him?
Digdug finally relaxes. "Burr aye, that mousem give moi the shivers."
Raziel is a bit irritated that the opportunity has passed...but there will be others. He hopes. And, it's likely for the best that he didn't spaz out and attack the mouse in the middle of a crowded hall. In a more secluded place, like the dungeons, he may actually be able to deal with the guards hauling him around, and find another way to slip out...
The corridors branch off into smaller room, storage areas, living quarters. Before turning one hallway to the left a door opens for a squirrel at the end of the pathway ahead. Behind him there appears to be an armory of weapons. Then the prisoners are forced downwards through a long and narrow hallway until they come finely to the dungeon. The first block of cells are simple metal bar rooms one would come to expect from a jail house. The hallway ahead has heavy wooden doors. Someone is playing a violin from the door at the end of the hallway. With out bothering to unshackle the weasel and cat they open on of metal grate doors and toss them both in. Fargo says in a panicked voice, "W-wait? you can't just leave me in here with...with the moss flower butcher? What if he wakes up and tries to kill me, or or, or eat me!?" The otter guard pauses and shrugs, "I guess you go on an instant diet." And shuts the door to the cell.
Digdug shudders. "Burr aye, that mossy-flower Butcher be gurtly ascarin moi ta think about. Ee ate poor guddbeasts, so oi hurd.."
Raziel grumbles as the cell door shuts. He thought he would have more opportunities to make use of people underestimating his consciousness. "Perhaps you should be afraid, little mole. Maybe I did. And maybe, if you let me out, I won't do the same to you." The wildcat slowly gets to his feet, making sure to use his height to his advantage as he glares through the bars. Intimidation is worth a shot, right?
As Rorgan stands there watching the weasel, something catches his eye. Just as he is about to leave, a bit of movement makes him turn his head, and he can barely stifle a gasp as he sights Derrin tied to the cell's back wall. Cuts and bruises cover his body, but his ice blue eyes are staring straight at Rorgan silently, but not unkindly. As Rorgan turns away, he freezes once again as he sights Raziel, but he quickly hurries out, hoping the cat hadn't seen him.
Digdug yelps. "Burr aye, you'm wont be a hurtin' moi!"
The otter incharge shouts, "Enough!" he taps his spear against the bars, "Luco will deal with the vermin...both of them...when he is read. Until then, enjoy your stay." The guard shoos the militia members out of the dungeon. Fargo steps as far away from the wild cat as he can. The wild cat was NOT part of the plan. He gulps. His chances of survival are dwindling by the moment. As the guards leave the strange and rather beautiful music from the cell in the back continues to echo down the hallway.
