Planning a Trip

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Salamandastron: Level Two

  • -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Salamandastron *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You are in a medium-sized circular 'room' from which several passages

branch off. Each passage fades off around a twisting corner, winding

around in the bowels of the mountain. One passage, however, hardly more

than a short, straight hall, ends abruptly with a large wooden door - the

forge room.

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Mid afternoon, Quinten has just finished work in the Library and is walking along the main corridor of the mountain humming to himself as he heads for the stairs.

Tyree is not so far off either, though he seems to have his mind on something other than books. Namely papers that he's been hustling and bustling about with back and forth, not even really knowing where some of them go. He just knows that they're very important, since /somebody/ keeps recruiting him to take them somewhere. He hurries into the corridor barely even watching where he's going, springing out of nowhere before Quinten, skidding to a halt and very nearly avoiding some kind of disastrous collision! "Gwah!" He throws a paw in front of his face as if to ward off something terrible, then drops it when he sees another hare. "Oh... oh, hello. Terribly sorry, there, bucko."

Quinten stops andlooks at Tyree, he inclines his head, "That's sir mister not bucko," he is grinning however, "Where are you off to in such a rush friend?"

Tyree doesn't seem to find it nearly so humorous. "Bwoof," he says as he exhales heavily, saluting properly. "Sorry, sah. Terribly sorry sah. Won't happen again," he assures him, casting his eyes to the ground. He needs to learn how to recognize uniforms in a hurry. "Just makin' deliveries. Sir. Very important, gotta get 'em where they need to go, sah."

Quinten nods his head, "Ah... well don't let me interupt your chores. I'd hate to see you punished for being late. Anything for Recorder Quinten?"

"Oh. Uh, I think so, sah," Tyree says, digging into his pile of papers and pulling out a specific batch. "This here, sah. Some new papers that need organizin' into the books. Fresh delivery from Redwall, you see, but it's more to do with us hares than the Abbey."

Quinten takes the papers with a smile and looks over them idly flicking through them. "Excelelnt what was your name again son? I don't think i've seen y ou about too often and I thought I knew all the recruits and privates."

"Tyree, sah," is the demure answer, with another snappy salute. "I, uh... don't get around, much, sah, in the social sense. Busy, y'know. Quite. All the time."

Quinten nods his head, "Well nice to meet you," he looks over his papers and tucks them into his tunic. "How are you enjoying life in the mountain? Hare's are a sociable bunch you should get out more."

"I get out plenty," Tyree says, then mutters and drops the hostile edge in his voice. "I mean. I get out just fine, sah. Lots of training an' patrols to do. An' I enjoy the life fine, sah. I've lived here most of my life. Born an' bred a Patroller." He stands up a little taller and straighter.

Quinten chuckles, "Well that's what we like to see son, a proper trooper you are, maybe I'll have to take you out with me sometimes on one of my supply runs."

Tyree's ears twitch at that. The barest, tiniest hint of a smile creeps onto his lips. Go out on a mission with a senior officer? That would be really something! "I'd be honored, sah. Course, I am a Fighter."

Quinten grins, "So am I... or I was, i spend six seasons in the field travelling and learning. Now most of my missions tend to be tests for my fur dyes or to gather supplies for the library."

"Sounds like quite a job," Tyree replies, and then nods down the corridor. "Sah, if I can beg your pardon, I must talk while I walk, or here we part ways."

Quinten smiles and turns and walks alongside the other hare, "I can walk with you a ways, I like to get to know my troopers."

Salamandastron: Level One

  • -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Salamandastron *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You have come to a large intersection of paths. Passages lead off in

every direction, turning and spiraling off into the distance. There is a

clearing of sorts where they all meet, a circular 'room' which gives space

for traffic to pass smoothly in all directions.

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Tyree comes hurrying back down from one of the passages he's just rushed down, coming back to Quinten. The papers are significantly less of a load after that mad scramble of the last few minutes. He's huffing and puffing by now, having done this for the better part of... all day. "Sah!" he says, saluting to Quinten once again. The older hare wouldn't even have to deviate from their original path, Tyree's just been criss-crossing around the halls around him. "Sorry for rushin', sah. Papers always seem ta' be in a hurry without even moving."

Quinten chuckles, "I prefer my library, the papers in there are quiet, restful things who have done all their travelling. Now tell me private how much do you know about the fur dye the patrol uses when we need to go camoflage someplace?"

"Not much, sir," Tyree admits. "All the patrols I've been on, we don't need camouflage. Or when we do need it, I'm just given the containers an' told to put it on."

Quinten nods, "I thought as much, a good officer knows how to make it work. As you have norticed it is powder that when rubbed into the fur and gotten wet dyes the fur. It can then be washed out by the right soap. Would it surprise you if I told you it is plant based and starts off life as a liquid?"

"It what?" Tyree asks, sounding surprised. He was a military hare, never one to go for the sciences and arts. "No, sah. I didn't know that at all. What kind of plant?"

Quinten grins, "Four types orf plants actually." he offers a piece of paper to Tyree, "I want you to memorise them all."

"Ah. Sah," Tyree says, giving a nod. "I will, sah. Thank you. So I can make them myself, sah?"

You say, "Yes and you can help me gather the supplies when I take you out on patrol.""

"I look forward to it, sah. Don't worry, I'll have them by tomorrow morning," he promises with a trim salute.

Quinten nods his head, "Good if you have them down by tomorrow I will take you out then."

"Out where, sah?" Tyree asks. "It may, um... interfere with trainin' or the like."

Quinten laughs, "Oh no don't worry I won't interupt your training but its good to get a little bit of practical field experience"

"Of course, sah. I've been out before. Been in scuffles," he explains. "Skirmishes. But an actual patrol, well..." He scoffs. "I've, ah. Never quite been noticed, sah."

Quinten grins, "My patrols might not be the most glamourous but if you can toe the line you stand a good chance of being picked." He nods to Tyrell one last time and steps through the door into the dinning room in search of food.

~fin

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